Memories
Fresh snow lay on the ground in the middle of July. A young woman looked up at the sky, she had short black hair and green eyes; she wore a long sleeved redshirt underneath her black overcoat, jeans and a white scarf covered her neck.
'It has been a long time since it has snowed here in Santiago' she thought as she observed the twinkling lights from where she sat.
Beatriz Sierra Casanova breathed out; watching her breath materialize and disappear in a heartbeat. Beatriz was no ordinary woman; she was the personification of the country of passion, maté and tango, Argentina. She got up from the chair and started walking.
She was, as mentioned before, in Santiago, Chile, Andres and Dulce, the personifications of Chile, had invited her to a dinner at their house. At first she wanted to turn down the invitation but her boss insisted that she went.
"It's been a long time since you visited them. It'll be good for if you visited them again," had said Argentina's boss.
Argentina actually wondered why the two invited her; for all she knew they should probably be busy with their economy, because of the world financial crisis and the earthquake that hit them about a year ago. How did they pull through all that, Argentina wondered but she would often also end up thinking about how she pulled through all the tragic events in her own history.
Argentina finally stopped in front of a tall apartment building. She gave a heavy sigh as she entered the lobby of the building and she stopped in front of the desk of the concierge.
"Buenas tardes, ¿puede, por favor, llame a Dulce y Andrés? Ellos viven en el apartamento 1203. Dígales que Beatriz Sierra Casanova ha llegado," said Argentina to the man.
The man nodded and phoned. While the man phoned, Argentina walked over to the elevator and pressed the button. She waited until the elevator arrived before entering it, pressing the button of the 12th floor and waiting the doors to close.
As the elevator started its slow ascent, Argentina started mulling over the past. There had been so many moments that she lived with the two Chiles, they were so close back then, but somehow they became so far apart in the present.
A young girl with long black hair stared out into the vast horizon. South American countries would have recognized her as Argentina before Spain found her. Her white dress laced at the neck with a blue bow fluttered in the wind as she stared at the boy in front of her. He had short messy brown hair and had tanned skin, sharply contrasting her white skin.
"What's your name?" A little girl asked.
"Andres." He replied.
"What are you doing here?"
"...You'll know later..."
Argentina sighed at the memory. Recently, after being invited for dinner to be exact, she couldn't stop thinking about the two. Actually, she just didn't seem to get her mind off him. She looked at the number being showed, 1st floor. Somehow it had started to remember that day, when England tried to take Buenos Aires, her capital, by force when Spain was away.
Argentina, 15 years of age physically, looked out the window with a not amused expression gracing her face. She had begged Spain, few months before, to stay but it was to no avail. He had left and she was too far away from Dulce, Agustina (Uruguay) or the rest of the South American nations. Nor did she want to talk to them.
"Beatriz! Hurry ships are coming!" shouted a man as he burst into the room.
Her expression brightened as her lips curved into a smile. Maybe Spain had already returned! That was until she saw the expression of the Argentine man; he seemed to be grim and serious.
"Those… are not Spanish ships… are they?" asked Argentina as she studied the man's expression.
The man nodded. "They are English ships," said the man "We only have muskets and the troops will only arrive in a few days. And they-"
"Where is the Viceroy?" asked Argentina, interrupting the messenger.
"He fled to Córdoba," said the man "But the English troops already took over the city!"
She frowned as she got up her chair. The man moved out of her way as she approached the door. She exited the large house that she stayed in and watched in shock. British troops were at the sight. Like the messenger said, they had already taken control of the city.
"Prepare me a horse. I'm going to Mendoza to plan a counter-attack," said Argentina turning to the messenger.
"Don't you bloody think that you will escape me," said a voice, catching her attention.
She looked at the direction of the voice. A tall man with blond hair, green eyes and recognizable thick eyebrows looked at her.
Argentina frowned as she remembered those days. She disliked England ruling over her for that brief time, but the thing she hated about that time was Spain 'abandoning' her. The latter part made her more determined about getting independence from Spain. Argentina looked at the number of the elevator; 5th floor.
Argentina stood in the front of five people. It was May the 25th of 1810 and it was a few minutes after the Primeira Junta assumed government. She had called Paraguay, Uruguay, Brazil and the two Chiles.
"You might all be asking why I have called you all here," said Argentina "As you know, I just have created the Primeira Junta and it has assumed my government. This is not a formal independence, but what I am going to do now… can be considered a symbol of my independence from Spain."
The Argentine woman picked up the knife on the table and, with the other hand, held her long hair in place. With a quick movement, the blade cut through her long hair and the long strands fell to the floor.
The five nations seemed to stare at her with a shocked look.
"What do you mean you're planning to become independent?" asked Dulce somewhat incredulously.
"….We'll all become independent someday. You, yourself, want to become independent too, right?" asked Argentina, shifting her gaze to the black hair on the floor.
The Argentine nation subconsciously fiddled with the tips of her short hair when the memory filled her mind. The two years that followed that date had been filled with conflicts; she battled Spain for her independence, eventually gaining it. There was one memory that pained her each time she was reminded of it.
The newly independent nation was sitting in a chair in the living of her house, reading a book, when she noticed a figure leaning on the doorframe. The figure was a bloodied mess, with quick bandages unwrapping themselves by the force of gravity, revealing deep wounds.
"D-Dulce?" shouted Argentina putting her book aside and hurrying over to the Chilean nation's side.
Quickly she grabbed one of Dulce's arms and swung it over her shoulder, supporting the wounded nation. What could have happened in the battle for Dulce to be hurt that much? And more importantly, where was Andres? Those thoughts didn't leave Argentina's mind as she helped Dulce unto her bed.
"Dulce, where is Andres?" asked Argentina.
"O-Outside," said Dulce "Beatriz… I'm thirsty."
Argentina nodded and called a servant. She gave the quickly order to get Dulce some water and to bandage her wounds. With that being done, the South American nation hurried outside only to find leaning by the wall a heavily wounded figure which she recognized as Andres.
"Andres," said Argentina as she kneeled down beside him.
At first Argentina thought he was unconscious or sleeping from his closed eyes, but he slowly opened them and blinked slowly as if trying his vision was blurry when he first opened his eyes.
"Beatriz," he whispered as she took his blood-soaked hand in hers.
"Don't talk much, it'll only make you feel worse," said Argentina.
Slowly she shifted his figure to half-cradle him in her arms. The process took a few minutes as she tried to cause the minimum of pain to his body as she could. She didn't care that her expensive blue dress was being blood-stained as she cradled the neighboring nation's dying body in her arms.
"We… need your… help," Andres managed to say before falling unconscious.
Argentina stared at the unconscious nation in her arms. She was sure that he was going to return to the battlefield soon after, rejecting her help… but those words. Those words were the confirmation that he and Dulce needed her help; that they would put their pride aside and let her assist them in their battle for independence.
7th floor was the indication of the number in the digital panel of the elevator. Argentina looked up at the ceiling, those old memories just kept flooding back and no matter what she tried thinking to get her mind off them, they would just come back. There was one memory though….
It was nighttime, the stars were high in the sky and the constellation of Scorpion was visible in the sky. This time the two Chiles and Argentina weren't in any city, instead they were spending the night in the Andes. San Martin had decided that they would cross the Andes to reach the city of Santiago and attack the royalists. After almost a whole month the crossing was almost at an end.
The campfire gave a soft glow. Dulce slept soundly on the floor near the fire while Andres and Argentina stayed awake. Argentina kept staring at the fire while Andres was brushing the mane of his horse.
"You should go to sleep," he said.
"I'm not tired, you're the one that supposed to be asleep," replied Argentina.
Andres gave something of a sigh and finished brushing the mane of his horse before joining the Argentine nation.
"Feeling nervous?" asked Andres.
Argentina gave a slight nod before hugging her knees. Tomorrow was another battle, one that could decide everything whether or not the two Chiles had a chance in becoming independent or not.
"Why did you two choose me?" asked Argentina.
Andres looked at her curious to why she asked the question.
"You could have chosen Ecuador, Paraguay, Bolivia or even Colombia. But why me?" asked Argentina looking at him.
The only reply that she got was his lips against hers. Argentina was too surprised when Andres kissed her. To her, he was the least likely person that she knew that would kiss her. After what seemed to be an eternity for her he pulled back. Argentina could feel her cheeks ablaze with red coloring.
"…"
"…"
The two nations seemed to be quiet for a long time. The Argentine woman looked down at her military uniform after the kiss, having strangely found it very interesting. After a few more minutes, Andres got up and sat down in the opposite side of the fire, close to Dulce.
"I… I will be going to sleep," said Argentina.
Touching her lips, she recalled the kiss, her first one ever. She shook her head furiously as if to make the faint blush that crept up her cheeks to disappear. Looking up she saw the floor she was in. 10th floor, only a few more to go.
Argentina frowned at Dulce and Andres. They were sitting in her office, across the table from her.
"We want out land back!" demanded Dulce, getting up from her chair.
"The land isn't yours!" Argentina retorted.
"It is!" shouted Dulce.
The two young women seemed to be getting at each others throat before their bosses interfered.
"Stop that you two," said Chile's boss.
The two nations sat down while they glared daggers at each other. One side Chile argued that the southern Patagonia lands were rightfully theirs for Argentina had stolen from them. Argentina, in her defense, said that the land was always hers.
"We will never settle this matter this way," said Argentina's boss "We are going to have foreign arbitrary on this matter."
Argentina sighed. Back then she had been greedy, even willing to let America make a base in Salta, in case America and the Chiles went to war, during the Baltimore Crisis; only to get more land.
She had betrayed the Chiles trust in that, but during that time she didn't care. These days, though, she actually stopped to wonder why she did that.
Her train of thought stopped as a small 'ding' was heard and the elevator doors opened. Walking over to the door, the tango nation felt nervous although not knowing the reason for the sudden apprehensive feeling. Argentina pondered the idea of leaving and giving an excuse for not coming to the dinner but eventually decided that it was better that she actually get this all over with.
Ding dong.
"Andres, she's already here!" shouted a female voice from inside.
"Answer the door then," came the reply.
Footsteps were heard and the door opened. There was Dulce, the young personification of Northern Chile. She had her hair tied in the usual pigtails and wore a blue tank top and brown shorts. How she managed to wear those shorts without freezing her legs off was a mystery to Argentina.
"Hi Beatriz!" exclaimed Dulce, gesturing for the black-haired woman to enter the apartment.
The woman entered the house and observed the surroundings. It was a neat, tidy place a surprise to Argentina. She had always thought that Dulce was a messy person but as usual it was proven that people change.
"So how have thing been going?" asked Dulce in her usual cheery voice "Economy going well?"
Argentina sighed and looked at Dulce with a sullen expression. The Chilean woman seemed to understand. The economy was in a precarious state, she was lucky enough already not to be drawn into a new economic crisis.
Argentina was staring at the ceiling. Her breathing wasn't steady and her cheeks were red. She had gotten a cold. Not any cold, but the worst one she had experienced in her history.
She had missed the reunion Christmas at Colombia's house due to the cold. To her, it wasn't very upsetting, because she was very sure that the other nations wouldn't miss her in anyway.
To her surprise the door leading to her room opened to reveal a young man and woman whom she easily recognized as the Chile twins. She wondered why they were here, mostly because of their animosity towards her; mostly stemming from the Patagonia disputes.
Argentina opened her mouth so say something but was interrupted when Dulce spoke up with her usual cheerful voice.
"Hey Beatriz! How're doing? Guess you're not doing well," said Dulce giving the same cheesy smile "We brought a few flowers over."
Argentina weakly looked over at Dulce a bit confused before she noticed the pot filled with flowers she was holding. The Argentine woman's eyes seemed to brighten when she saw what kind of flowers they were, Ceibo, her national flower.
"D-Dulce?" asked Argentina.
"Andres was the one who insisted on buying one and bringing it over," said Dulce, nudging her brother.
"Heeeeelloooooo, earth to Beatriz," said Dulce, snapping Argentina out of the memory.
The black-haired woman looked startled for a second before scowling at Dulce. Dulce, in reply, gave an innocent smile to her angered neighboring nation. The Chilean woman then gestured to Argentina for her to turn around. Argentina was at first puzzled but complied and turned around only to face Andres.
"Hola Beatriz," said Andres.
Argentina could feel a faint blush creep up her cheeks but that soon stopped when she heard Dulce giggle. The Argentine woman looked at the Chilean woman with a scowl but Dulce just ignored it.
"I'll be getting the wine," said Dulce putting extra emphasis on the wine part.
With that Dulce left the living room leaving Argentina and Andres alone, although Argentina wished that she hadn't left. The Argentine nation could have sworn that she saw a slight smile had formed on the Chilean man's lips.
"So, why did you call me here?" asked Argentina.
"For a simple dinner," came the reply, before a sigh was heard "Dulce stop spying on us."
Argentina looked back to see Dulce grinning at them before slipping into the kitchen. It was a little strange but the black-haired woman didn't dwell on it. Argentina looked back at Andres and raised an eyebrow. She wasn't exactly satisfied with the answer he had given her. A long awkward silence followed.
"How have things been going?" asked Argentina.
"They have been going fine," he replied, taking a seat on the couch.
"I see. Things back home aren't the brightest thing around," said Argentina walking over to the balcony.
Why she had decided to go outside she didn't know, but she immediately regretted it. The cold wind blew and made Argentina feel cold even underneath her overcoat and long sleeved shirt. Trying her best to ignore the cold, Argentina placed her arms on top of the snow covered railing; stared at the city lights.
Andres had followed her and was standing besides her also observing the city lights, but, unlike her, he wasn't feeling cold. It was probably because he was wearing long brown pants, black long sleeved shirt, coat, a white scarf and his signature straw hat. It might also have helped that he was used to this kind of weather compared to Argentina.
"Long time since it snowed here," he said nonchalantly.
"Mhmm."
"Just like that day remember?"
"…."
Argentina snapped her head in Andres' direction. So that was why he invited her here? He knew that she disliked those kinds of things. She turned around.
"So that's why you invited me here?" asked Argentina, somewhat irritated.
"No."
"…You think I'm going to buy that?"
"No."
"Then why did you call me here?"
"I just want to talk? We haven't talked to each other face-to-face since the earthquake," said Andres.
Argentina looked at him. She no longer wore an irritated expression but she wore a wary one. She did remember that day clearly.
Argentina ignored the shouting of the Chilean nurse as she dashed down the hallway. Quickly, she found the room and entered it. Inside the white room were two people laying in the cots. A young woman and a young man both quite wounded.
"Dulce, Andres…"
The Argentine woman quickly walked over to the cots and observed the bodies. Dulce had few wounds on her arms, legs and a deep wound in her side while Andres seemed to have received the most damage; wounds on the arms, legs, side and his left eye was bandaged.
Argentina watched the two for a few minutes before the nurse, that was chasing her a few minutes before, entered the room and started whispering loudly that she should leave. Andres shifted and woke up. He turned his to the side to see the nurse ready to leave with Argentina following her.
"Espere. Que se quede aquí."
The two women stopped, both surprised that Andres had woken up. The nurse hesitantly nodded and let Argentina stay. When the nurse had left, the Argentine woman walked over to the cot where Andres was lying and sat beside him.
"Why did you come here?" asked Andres, as soon as the nurse left.
"To visit you, of course, bobo."
"You shouldn't have come."
Argentina stared at him with shock and puzzlement. Why did he say that?
"Dulce and I don't need help. Not from America, not from Brazil, not from Russia and not from you. We don't need any international help at all."
"…."
Argentina didn't want to admit it but what he said hurt her inside. They were practically brother and sister to her, just like other South American nations with the exception of Brazil. They had all been raised by Spain and it was natural that they would help one another if they could. But now, Andres was rejecting help that was being offered.
Argentina silently got up and started to make her leave.
"Whether you like it or not, I'm going to help you, even if it is to only send money," she said before leaving the room.
Argentina sighed. Ever since then she had been stubborn and stopped visiting the two. Even when the 33 Chilean miners were trapped in a mine, she didn't come, only a human representative went over to Chile.
"Well I didn't want to talk to you," Argentina simply said "I'm leaving."
She again turned around to make her leave but she was stopped when she felt Andres grabbing her arm.
"Stubborn as ever," said Andres frowning "Just because of that you didn't talk to us in sometime."
"I have my reasons."
"You felt unnecessary. You felt like we didn't want you anymore, am I right?"
"…."
"Beatriz, stop that façade. You're acting tough when you're not."
Argentina looked at Andres. She gritted her teeth, it was nothing like that. He was wrong. Or was he right? It didn't matter, it only mattered what other people thought of her.
"How many times did when I visited you did you cry, especially when that song played on the radio?"
"Andres. Stop that," hissed Argentina.
"You kno—"
"Stop!" yelled Argentina "Look, my life or when I cry doesn't matter, alright. Now jus—"
She didn't even finish the sentence. Warm lips stopped her from doing so. Argentina struggled and pulled away from the kiss. Being very furious, the woman sent a fast, crisp slap across Andres's face. The man didn't even flinch or anything of the type. He just stood there with a mixture of worried and upset expression on his face.
"Andres I didn't come here to be sexually harassed!" screamed Argentina at him.
"I had to do that. You wouldn't let me finish."
"I don't need to hear more of that mierda!"
"…."
"I'm leaving."
Argentina turned ready to leave the balcony and make her way to the door.
"Just hear me out."
Against her better judgment, Argentina stopped in her steps and looked back at Andres.
"You have one minute. Give me one reason that you're telling me all of that."
"Just stop the façade a—"
"That again? Andres I don't have a façade! This is how I am and I am perfectly happy wi—"
"Idiota!" said Andres raising his voice.
Argentina quieted down. Andres rarely raised his voice, but that didn't quiet Argentina down for long.
"You say you're happy? You're not! Everyone can see that!"
"Yes, I am ha—"
"You're not. Don't even tell me that! Everyone can see that you're not happy. Brazil, Uruguay, Paraguay, Bolivia, Colombia and the rest know that."
"…"
"Tell me. Why do you keep that façade up if you're not like that or if you're not happy?"
"…I…I…"
Argentina didn't know what to say. Andres seemed to hit the place where she couldn't find the right words to defend herself from. Why did she keep up the façade? She started to wonder herself. Deep inside, she knew the answer.
"…I… am…s-scared of…being hurt," said Argentina looking at the floor.
No words were spoken for a time. The black-haired woman felt tears start to well up; the reason why she kept up that mask was that she didn't want to get hurt. Get hurt in anyway; especially be fall in love and to be left alone. Still she was still being hurt although it was not physically. It was emotionally, as if she needed someone.
Suddenly, arms wrapped around Argentina's slender figure and pulled her into an embrace. She was surprised at first but, after a few seconds, she started to hug back.
"I'll never let that happen," whispered Andres.
"Andres…" Argentina whispered, looking up at the dark brown eyes of the Chilean.
"Te amo Beatriz," whispered Andres, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.
At first she was speechless. Her numbed mind couldn't think of anything to try to put her façade up but her sensitive heart felt warmed as if she needed to hear those precious words from him. For a long time she had refused to love someone, even though she was the very personification of the country of pasión. But those words seemed to change everything, making her acknowledge the feelings that she had for him, the same feelings that she tried to suppress for a long time.
"Andres… Yo también te quiero…" Argentina confided.
Dulce smiled at the newly formed couple. They had finally got together. She always knew that Andres had a special soft spot for Argentina. She even saw the first time that he kissed her (granted, she pretended to be sleeping at the time but it was worth it) and she had also kept track in her diary how their 'romantic development' was going.
She did feel some apprehension when Argentina started yelling at Andres and Andres in return raised his voice. All those feelings melted away when both hugged.
"Finally!" breathed Dulce to herself.
The Chilean woman quickly made her way to her room, tip-toeing. The door creaked as she entered the room. She quickly searched her room for her diary, knowing that time was short and that the two would soon notice her absence. Having found it, she quickly grabbed a pen, opened the diary, and started to write in it.
Dear Diary,
You won't guess! They finally got together 3. I knew that they were going to get together, too bad Brazil doubted me. Now she owes me 50 reais for betting that they weren't getting together in this century yet. Well, anyway, finally more than 200 years of UST and it only resolves today.
I better get going. Hopefully they didn't notice that I was watching the whole thing.
Kiiiiiisses and hugs.
Author's Note: This my first Hetalia fanfiction. I took well in liking of the Chile/Argentina pairing and although my potrayal of Argentina might be somewhat off what is mostly said. The character of Chile (Dulce and Andres) are of property of AquaJet and she has given me permission to use them.
I am no expert on Argentine history nor on Chilean history so please correct me if I got a few facts wrong.