Title: Between You and Me
Authoress: Ankaris123
Summary: More-than-one-shot. They used to be one; just North America. Now they were two, and two they will stay. No matter how much they wanted it all back.
A/Ns: First, I apologize for the extreme...shortness of this section. The last part (yes, there's only one more after this one) needs a lot of revising after the first run-through and school hasn't been kind with my free time. Anyways, I'll try to have that one ready for upload as soon as possible. Without further ado, carry on.
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We must face the fact that the United States is neither omnipotent nor omniscient; that we are only 6 percent of the world's population; that we cannot impose our will upon the other 94 percent of mankind; that we cannot right every wrong or reverse every adversity; and that therefore there cannot be an American solution to all world problems. – John F. Kennedy
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"Here you are, America," the Japanese man said, placing cardboard package in front of the superpower. With the eagerness of a child during Christmas, America tore off the top and delved his fingers into the Styrofoam insulators.
Within a few seconds, a slim sleek black laptop sat on his cluttered office desk, a masterpiece of cutting edge technology. It even glinted intelligently.
Flipping the screen up, America turned the machine on and delighted in the almost inaudible whir of the start-up and the exhaust fan. A loading bar appeared on the black screen along with a familiar four coloured logo.
"Looks great, Japan. I'm sure it will sale well." Politely rejecting the praise, Japan inclined his head in acknowledgment of his kind words and stood at the side quietly as the desktop loaded and America began to fiddle with the preset programs with a sweep of his finger.
"This is awesome, man, totally smooth, just the right sensitivity, and quiet as a kitten," he said as he opened the most recent word processor and played with the drawing tool function. A strange blob creature began to take shape.
"That is good news, I was hoping to get a second opinion. Our firm was aiming for a more business-oriented market and with the increasing need to travel long distances, we took into consideration the durability of casing and overall weight."
"Yeah?" he said absentmindedly, adding a second blob next to the first which had an odd resemblance to its creator.
"It would be an honour if you decide to keep this prototype. Might I trouble you with passing this one onto Canada? I received an urgent call and no longer have the time to arrange a visit to Ottawa before my flight back home."
At the sound of his neighbour's title, he accidentally drew a straight line between the two blobs. He blinked at the symbolism and smiled grimly. A dark chuckle attempted to spill over his lips. Sensing a change in the atmosphere, Japan clasped his hands together apologetically.
"I am sorry, please don't take my request to heart, I'll see if I can-"
America laughed, a bit more bitterly than he intended. He added a second line.
"No, it's alright. I'll do it. It's no trouble at all, really." The Asian nation shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot to the clicks of laptop.
"Excuse me for being intrusive. If I may ask...did you have another fall out with Canada?" he asked this with sympathy. America added another line. And another.
"Yeah, you could say that." Another line joined the rest. They continued to pile up like stacked tally marks, each one standing for a past argument, a previous mistake, a former dispute, a prior disagreement. Eventually it went beyond the capacity of his mental thesaurus but the lines continued to add up long afterwards.
"That is...rather unfortunate," Japan said at last. The air in the dimly lit room thickened. "I hope you resolve your differences soon."
"Me too..." Without thinking, his left hand moved over to the keyboard and pressed two keys in unison.
A line vanished.
He sat there almost astonished at what he had done. And then he did it again.
Another gone.
And again.
And again.
And again.
Until there were no more lines between the two drawings.
"Amazing, isn't it?" he whispered, astonished face illuminated by the bright screen. "Control-Z. The simple press of two keys and sooner or later it all returns to normal. Erases the bad, the unwanted, bang, just like that."
Japan was at a loss for words. It disheartened him that his friend seemed even more depressed than before. Although he wished dearly to cheer him up, he also knew this was dangerous territory he was treading and may not be at all welcome to further prying. He chose his next words tentatively, wrestling with conflicting feelings.
"Yes...it certainly is."
Later that day, with the ctrl and z keys well broken in, a tired America stretched, scratched his head, and rang his secretary to tell her that he will be having lunch out. Before locking up, he glanced longingly at the two drawings and closed the word document without saving.
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Canada and the United States have reached the point where we can no longer think of each other as foreign countries. – Harry S. Truman
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It was nights like these that they treasured the most; when both of them shed their respect titles and became just another citizen.
No Canada, no United States. Just Matthew and Alfred.
They were a familiar sight to the patrons of the suburban supermarket. The elder pushed the banged-up cart with one rebellious wheel while the younger double-checked a long grocery list they never end up using. As they passed down each aisle, they methodically picked out their purchases and deposited them into the cart.
Alfred would pick out the bags of chips and boxes of microwaveable popcorn. Matthew would be in charge of the 2-litre cola and preferred liquor. As they rattled through the meat section, the Canadian sorted through the packaged hamburger meat for the best deal and the American loaded the half-full cart with napkins and paper towels as they rolled past the shelves of plastic disposable dining utensils.
It was times like these that Matthew treasured the most; when they moved in unison, teasing each other but never too much. It was like a dance that neither of them prepared for or even knew the steps to but managed still to execute it with precision, catching the other's mistakes and lending a hand when needed. One of them might forget something and the other would remember instantly; an inexplicable phenomenon, this almost telepathic connection. They also never shopped for themselves but instead for each other. That was just how it worked and nothing could ever really explain it.
At the checkout, both siblings pulled out their credit cards at the same time, resulting in a brief argument about who would pay the bill. Their good-natured bickering continued well after the automatic doors slid shut behind them. Old ladies who lingered about the establishment cooed about how nice it was to see young people getting along with each other at their age.
It didn't matter who owned the car. One of them loaded the trunk with the bags while the other started up the engine. Whoever won the ritual coin toss got the wheel. Following that they drove home amicably while the loser turned the radio to a station they knew the other despised, grinning as the volume was set to maximum.
Pulling up the driveway, whoever loaded the trunk opened the door while the other threw them the house key and grabbed more grocery bags than he was capable of carrying. A whole lot of stumbling, cursing, and laughing later, somehow the groceries made it to kitchen counter relatively intact and edible. Alternately, they prepared the snacks, pushed the sofa closer to the television set, and changed it to the appropriate channel.
It was moments like these that Alfred treasured the most; when they sat quietly together on the couch watching the pre-game commercials and commentary. He'd feel his brother lean his head of his shoulder, their sides flush against each other, blurring their borders. Even the loud volume issuing from the surround sound system fell away from their reality for a moment; the only things that could be heard were the soft inhales and exhales of their breathing, the gentle thud-thud of their hearts. He would push away the ache of what could have been and focused on sinking into the contentment of the present and the warm body next to him. He'd always get the urge, but never had the courage, to reach over a scant half-inch and twine their fingers together.
It was an illusion of their days together as one, when there was no need for words, just feelings sufficed.
It was an illusion of an unattainable peace in the modern world they lived in, a small piece of fixed paradise in the turbulent chaos of the real world.
It was an illusion, shattered, when the uniformed players stepped on the ice, when the puck was dropped, when as one with the spectators, the two of them rose from their seats joining in the cheers and the jeers, on opposing sides, for the rest of the night.
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A/Ns: Sometimes, sports just make me so sad. The animosity gets to me even if I do enjoy the game once in a while and will support my team. If you wanted to know, it's perfectly possible to draw on Microsoft Word. I actually drew the same picture that Alfred drew in this story just to see if it would work. I wouldn't recommend it for the serious artist though (unless you thrive on stuff like that, different strokes for different folks). I hope Japan wasn't too...out of character here. I think I wrote him a little too...antsy. I don't know the word for it but hopefully it wasn't jarring.
There weren't really any historical references in these last sections so any that do occur are purely coincidental.
Thank you for reading!