Hello 3
Meow-chan has finally returned! after so long waiting i finally got the gumption to actually write a new chapter!
SO this is a dark themed story so it is rated R.
For several reasons :)
but alas here it is chapter 2!
Love you all enjoy please! OH and please R&R that is how a author continues to write :3
Three blonde's stood side-by-side, watching with heavy hearts at the beautifully decorated parade-floats as they swept down the street. Children's laughter echoed, and cries of joy were plentiful, creating a pleasant cacophony.
The air was scented sweet, by the many vendors, offering delicious treats to the celebrators. The air was humid and sticky, causing the everyday person to sweat mercifully, yet the three blonde's stood placidly.
"He's here." a sweet sing-song voice chirped, it sounded like a 5-year old girls voice, innocent, and sweet. Unblinking black eyes turned up as the small polar bear cub, wiggled free from it's captors hold. "Hamburger Boy… I smell him. I sense him."
"W-what! Really!?" Alfred let the bear leap to the ground, as he bent down, squatting beside the bear. "Where is he."
The other two blonde's huddled in. Francis's eyes narrowed, as a deep frown caressed his face, his lower lip slowly disappearing as he chewed it in worry. Arthur, stifled the gasp he so desperately wanted to let out, but forced it down.
"This bloody well better not be another false alarm… I'm tired of running into these constant dead ends. I'm old… my heart can't keep getting beaten down like this."
"It's not. I know it's him. I can feel his pain… I feel everything he feels, but to a lesser degree… if I was actually with him, I would share his pain, taking half of it. But since we are apart I can only feel…sense what he is feeling." Kumajirou growled, turning narrowed eyes at the Brit.
"Mon Petite, Arthur is right, le coeur, it hurts to much. I have lost him twice. Non, let us just watch the celebration in peace…" Francis straightened, casting shadowed eyes to stare shallowly into the sea of people.
"…Alfred. It has been five years… five long miserable, stressful years. We've been searching, the world has been searching, everyone has been searching… there has been no trace of his whereabouts… I think it is time we finally let him be… he doesn't want to be found." The representative of England straightened himself, brushing out the crease that had formed in his jacket, glaring down a the street, not letting the American see the tears that threatened to fall. "No matter how hard it hurts, we have to give up."
"I will never give up! I will continue searching until the day I die! He deserves this! We are the reason he is gone! Everything is because of us… if only… We ignored him, worst we acted like he didn't even exist…." Alfred glared into the street, eyes darkening "He had been missing for almost a year before we noticed… and the only reason we noticed was because he died… and our connection, what lets us know if one of us is harmed or in danger... that was how we learned that… not by visiting… not by calling… nothing but the heart wrenching feeling of his death." Alfred growled, his knuckles white as his nails dug crescent moons into his palms. He grit his teeth so hard it was painful, a dull ache that accompanied his heart. "I will find him!"
Alfred stepped away from the curb, walking a foot into the street, turning he smiled, determination and pride shining through his eyes. "I am American, we're the worlds most stubborn jack-asses around."
With that he through himself into the fray of parading people, Kumajirou fast on his heels, Arthur hollering in protest as another one of his colonies disappeared before his eyes. The Brit took a step as if to chase after him, but was stopped by a firm hand against his arm.
"L'Amour, let him go... he needs this." Arthur turned to scold the french man, but stopped. Francis's eyes were clouded with misery, like a storm on the Mediterranean sea, tears fell freely down his face, and his chin shook with suppressed sobs.
Arthur's eyes widened, France had never shown vulnerability in the British man's presence, sighing he took a step towards the crying man and reached out, pulling the Frenchman into his arms. A light gasp of surprise left Francis's throat before his shoulders started to shake violently, and Francis was wailing into Arthur's chest. He blubbered useless french into England's shoulder, the name Mathieu was audibly a few times.
"Alfred, please find that bloody wanker soon..." Arthur whispered out into the streaming crowd of celebrators.
It was a sea of red and white, people laughing, screaming and the likes, it hurt... seeing his colours everywhere you turn... but that was what was expected. For instant celebrating 148 years of being your own country was a long time, even though compared to so many others he was one of the youngest countries around, other then Sealand... even though he was NOT a country in England's eyes or anyone else's eyes.
France had stopped shaking and now was leaning against the Brit, sniffing and whipping his eyes. He looked so downcast and it wretched something in the blonde's heart. The last time he had seen Francis this broken was when he had stolen the little Canada colony from him, it hurt his chest back then too. It seemed France only ever got this distraught over Canada... but what did he expect... The frog never shut up about his adorable little l'enfant. Canada and/or Matthew had always been France's son, he called him Papa for bloody sake and all Arthur got was Arthur or Sir... or England.
The bloody prat.
But what did he expect he never did remember the lad, France had to continuously remind him that the boy was in fact Canada and not America. Let alone remind him that the lad was standing in front of him. Canada was just so... plain... a carbon copy of America's glory, yet dulled to a lesser degree.
He didn't understand why Matthew always got so angry when he was mistaken as Alfred.
Weren't twins suppose to look identical?
Shaking his head England growled. He shouldn't be blaming Matthew, this was his fault. Yet here he was still comparing the poor lad to his brother, the entire reason Matthew vanished in the first place.
Glancing down at France's trembling form in his arms, Arthur's heart thumped.
Matthew was always the one who knew what to do in these situations. He was the peace keeper, the one with the level head, he could always diffuse any tension that formed between their messed up family.
And through it all; the forgotten name, the mistaken identity...
Being invisible.
He would smile. That cute flushed faced smile; a smile on the verge shyness; where the corner of his eyes would crinkle...and those beautiful eyes. The eyes that reminded him of twilight, the shade between blue and purple, where you couldn't truly tell if his eyes were blue or purple. Those eyes always seemed to hold a smile.
And bloody hell. He did miss that smile, the way he lit up when England actually remember he was Canada, acting like it was the greatest thing in the world.
England would give up all the spells in the world... every last one of his magical friends... just to be able to see that smile again.
To be able to hold his Canada again.
That little boy who had looked up to him, stuck by his side until the very end.
He hadn't fought for his own 'freedom' like America had, he had asked for it, simply as that. Sure Arthur refused plenty of times, since the wound America had stabbed into him was still relatively fresh.
But Matthew had eventually gotten it... and with that he was given his glasses.
The glasses that proved he was a real nation now, not just one of Britain's colonies, Arthur had given Alfred a similar pair... right before he drove a wooden stake through Arthur's heart.
"I don't care what that bloody prat has to say... when we find him he will never leave my sight again." Arthur growled, ignoring the gruffness that had developed in his throat.
"Qui... I'll handcuff him to me self if I a'ave too."
Grunting Alfred shoved past yet another festively dressed celebrator, trying to keep up with the little ball of white fur, that continuously zigzagged in and out of people's legs was proving intensely difficult.
"Fluffy! Wait up!" the blonde shouted, twirling around yet another couple who were dancing to the music that vibrated from through the air.
Alfred had discovered that Canada's capital went full out on his birthday. A parade, live bands, food everywhere... which smelled remarkably appealing to Alfred's growling stomach.
Shaking his head, America cursed himself. This was not the time to be thinking of food. He needed all his focus on finding Matthew... and catching up to that annoying ball of fluff, that seemed to hate him.
Kumajirou suddenly shoot around a corner, disappearing.
Rushing past a women who was struggling with way to many children she obviously couldn't handle, Alfred followed suit. He almost stepped on the bear in his haste.
Kumajirou had just stopped. Staring into a dingy looking ally. They stood beside a dumpster, the smell mildly disgusting, puddles formed down the narrow strip due to the rain from the previous evening. The ally was dark, causing an ominous feeling to creep up Alfred's spine.
He hated dark allies.
They reminded him of a horror movie.
Alfred hated horror movies.
Gulping he looked down to the white fluff ball.
"Is he here...?"
"He was." the bear growled deep in it's little throat. "But I smell the remnants of another here as well."
"What does it smell like? Is Mattie in trouble? Where is he now! Is he still close by!?"
It hurt. Alfred couldn't describe how much it hurt... he was suppose to be the hero.. not the villain. He is suppose to be Mattie's savior, not the reason he disappeared.
And Alfred did know, he knew all along it's his fault.
But he liked the attention to much, liked how he was portrayed... who cared if that meant tossing aside his brother, pushing hm under the bus... so to speak.
America always saw Canada... even when everyone else didn't he always did.
Since it was kinda hard not too. The dude looked almost identical to himself... well he had a more feminine, french look about him... and those eyes... don't even get him started about Mattie's eyes. They were gorgeous. He couldn't possibly articulate words that could compare to their beauty.
Canada was his little brother.
No one else was allowed to have him.
They shared the world's largest unprotected boarder for Christ's sake! He played baseball and hockey with him religiously whenever he had free time.
Matthew had been his. And his alone.
Sure it wasn't right feeding the flame to the fire... but hell, what if others realized his potential, they'd try to take his Mattie away from him. So Alfred had made it his mission to make Canada as invisible as possible, shoving himself so ridiculously into the light, allowing Canada to only stand in his shadow.
So Matthew was forgotten. The cute little boy, who looked like France, yet was incredibly shy, who had England's formality and was all around the nicest guy one could meet. Sure France still saw him, because Mathieu had always been France's favorite, but being the idiot Francis was he hadn't did anything and with America's boisterous attitude he eventually only remember Canada if he was within eyes sight of the Canadian.
So Alfred had shoved him into the shadows and hadn't allowed him out.
But the one thing America hadn't predicted happened...
Alfred himself had forgot.
This entire act was created so he could keep Canada... his adorably baby brother all to himself, no one else could have him.
He finally had something that belonged to him and him alone.
And yet he blow it, like everything else he's done.
He forgot.
The act that was meant to keep them together became reality.
And Canada really didn't exist in his eyes anymore.
Alfred became the villain.
He was... is the reason for Canada's invisibility.
But by god... he will fix this.
He will find Canada, and he will kill whoever is doing this to his brother... whoever is torturing him.. who's killing his dear baby brother will pay.
A searing pain brought Alfred back to reality, looking down at his now throbbing leg he glared at the bear that had it's teeth lodged into his legs.
"What the fuck fluffy!"
"you weren't listening to me..."
Growling Alfred shook the white ball off. "So you bit me! What the hell man?"
Kuma turned and walked into the ally, walking to stand halfway down the narrow road. Gulping Alfred followed. The bear bent down and picked something up, it lightly dangling from between his teeth.
A clutch of fabric swayed in the breeze from Kumajirou's mouth.
A blue clutch of fabric.
One so familiar it sent goosebumps racing down Alfred's arms. That was Mattie's sweater... the one he always wore whenever they played baseball... the one Ukraine had knitted for him, as a present after one of the wars.
Bending down Alfred gentle took it out of the bears mouth. It still felt warm, hope erupted throughout his chest... until he felt a wetness to the fabric. Glancing at it, he slowly rotated the fabric in his grasp, blood smeared across the fabric, soaking the one side indefinitely, Alfred sat in shock, blood... blood was not good. Blood meant pain, and pain can lead to death.
Matthew was in pain. Turning to Kuma Alfred barked "Can you feel him? Is he in pain? Tell me!"
The bear jumped a foot away as Alfred leaped at the ball of fur. Kuma growled as he backed away.
"He is always in pain. He never isn't in pain."
Alfred fell to his knees, suppressing the urge to cry.
"Why... why can't I save him..."
I know i'm sorry! its so short!
it's just i have been sooooooo busy lately!
working two jobs! and trying to juggle a real life is hard now a days :'(
But i hope you all liked it and i hope you continue reading!
I don't know if i will be adding any romance to this story... unlikely at the moment but please tell me what you think...
Also in the next chapter Prussia and a few of the European countries will be making their appearances :3
well see y'all later
love ya