All right, everyone. Finally, after more than a year: Chapter 4. I'm going to take this whole story and revamp it, because the whole thing is terrible. I didn't even do any bloody research, and I'm sure Arthur seemed too OOC. But there will be a reason behind that, so... enjoy?


There was the sweet breath of sunshine upon his cheek. He breathed in slightly, inhaling the fresh scent of dew and grass, and smiled slightly, waiting to be shaken awake by the boy that he knew and loved, the one who always ran to him with a large grin on his face, shouting: "England, England! Look at the battlefield I set up with your soldiers! They're going to have an epic, heroic battle again the French soldiers!"

And the little boy, not taller than Arthur's knee, would tug at his hand and show him the mini battlefield he had set up on the kitchen table. "And England will always win! Because Arthur's my hero!"

Ah, that seemed so long ago… But he will wake me up today, and everything will be fine. He will smile at me, laugh, and promise me that he is my little boy, and that I am his brother. He loves me. He'll be with me… always…

Emerald green eyes opened to stare up at the white, pure ceiling.

And then Arthur realized that America was no longer with him.

Yes. America had left long ago, hadn't he? He had left to go to his own land… a "new world" far across the sea, where he would eventually grow to be the young man that he was now… and then he would rebel.

The sea of blood that mingled with the fresh earth of the new country called "America" had been mixed with his own tears.

"Goodbye, England. I'm sorry." He could hear the boy's voice as if the Revolution had been yesterday—no, not even yesterday. As if it was now, here, in his room. "I'm sorry… But I won't stay with you forever. I won't let you control me anymore… I want my own way. I want my independence."

No. You bloody bastard. Why would you leave me? Why? Are you like… like...

"I'm sorry, England."

No. Damned boy. You're not sorry at all. Not even grateful. I… I… I loved you. And this is… This is how you repay me?

"Goodbye."

You're like everyone else… you'll always leave me. No matter how strong I am, how broken… I will always be alone.

The blossoms of sunlight lit upon his crimson-flushed cheeks as he sighed melancholically.

Ah, yes. What a beautiful day it will be. Wake up, have a mug of tea, and enjoy the warmth of the morning. Nobody there beside me… it'll be peaceful. Peaceful… yes, and lonely as well. B-But that's alright.

I don't need anyone. Not even America. Especially not America.

Arthur twisted and turned in his bed, moving onto his side to grip his pillow—Wait.

"… The bloody hell, this isn't my pillow!" Hell, it wasn't. His pillow was nice and fluffy, just the way Tinker Bell had done for him. It had the flag of the damned United Kingdom on it, not black and red and yellow stripes—!

Arthur felt a hand on his shoulder, and a deep, husky voice from behind him. He stiffened as Germany asked: "Arthur, are you o—?"

The Englishman's response was instantaneous. With a sweep of his hand, he had left a bright, red mark across Germany's face as he screamed: "What the bloody hell am I doing on your bed, potato bastard?!"

Ludwig wasn't quite sure what was going on, but Arthur's resemblance to Romano was unbearably strong.


Yeah... so this is where it's going. I'm going to take all these chapters and redo them, since they're absolutely awful. So wish me luck!

Oh, yeah, visit my new account at PrussiaXAustria1000 on Fanfiction and deviantART and my parter GermanyXItaly1000. You won't regret it!