yoyoyo im back with another installment of my most embarrassing moments! to the three people who fave'd and or followed this fic it means a lot to me cause tbh i thought no one cared about kith and kin besides me :0) ily all! anyway i hope u like hawaii lol cause this is like ten thousands words of her backstory. i wanted to write about tex and america but apparently that wasn't on the agenda so next time i pinky promise!

Please Read and Review. Enjoy!


One, or Kalei

Hawai'i was born of volcanic shards and sea breeze, formed from the tides that brought her people to the whites sands of her beaches and appeared soon after those first settlers laid down their oars and moved inland. They found her amidst the brush, sleeping on palm leaves with a single pearl clutched in her hand. The leader of the expedition, a man who might've been chief had their laws been set up as such then, stared unblinking down at the dozing infant, and gently bent down to grab her, ignoring the umbilical cord seemingly embedded in the rich soil. He made his way back to their temporary encampment and announced her miraculous appearance.

Hawai'i was swiftly snatched up by a new mother, aghast at the sight of what appeared to be, a newborn left to the elements. She was clothed and nursed, the woman adoring her as if Hawai'i was her own, and taken in when no one stepped forwards to claim her. From then on Hawai'i knew the love of a mother, was cradled softly to her breast and welcomed into the community, the young woman silently thanking the Goddess Laka for her generosity, allowing her to have a daughter as well as son, both hearty and filled with laughter, sure to bring joy and pride to her family as the grew up.

The woman's daughter did not grow though, she remained unchanging as her brother moved from walking to running to flirting to marriage. Her mother named her Kalei, the child, for that was what she was, and it was a precious gift to have a name. It was more than kindness or duty that moved Hawai'i's mother to care for her even as she aged, as her grandchildren outpaced her everlasting daughter, as she grew old and her husband left her for the Hidden Islands. Still she doted and cared for Kalei, her only daughter, her precious pearl baby, never once wavering in her devotion for the child she chose to raise.

Merely hours before she passed on, surrounded by family, Kalei resting on her stomach, the woman began to say her goodbyes, aware of her fading spirit. The woman thanked her son for taking care of her, and his baby sister, in their time of need and begged him to keep Kalei safe, to remember that she was still family, 'ohana, and to look out for her. The woman had a feeling Kalei would be a handful as soon as she moved from babbling to words. She showered her grandchildren with love and praise, and told her daughter in law that she was glad to have known her and to keep her own children close to her heart.

At last, it was time for the woman to say goodbye to Kalei. She hoped that Kalei knew how much she meant to the whole family, knew that, even though she was not of this world, she was a gift and cherished by all who met her. Hoped she would remember her as her mother, selfishly wishing, just once, to hear Kalei speak and to never have her title held by another. Tears began to pool in her eyes, her baby might not remember her after a few years, might be taken by the other Ancients and brought up by some woman who was not her, might call that woman mother and forget who had nursed and held her close for nearly sixty years.

She reached out to cup her child's face, her heart warming as Kalei tilted into the withered hand, "Kalei, I am leaving soon, going somewhere you may never go. I hope you know that you will always be my precious pearl baby, and I will always be your mother." The woman leaned up to kiss her child's head, and Kalei began babbling, her small hands moving to pat at her mother's face, "Aloha, au iā 'oe, ko'u makamae momi kama." She whispered, ready to depart.

Kalei startled her then, jolting her from her dreamlike state. The baby whined, her face scrunching up in concentration, before she opened her mouth and yelled, "Māmā!" The child giggled, her black eyes sparkling in the low light before shouting out her first word again and again.

Kalei's mother felt her heart stutter, and wasn't that a dangerous thought, before she began to laugh with a type of joy she hadn't felt in a long time. She reached up her hands to grasp her child's hands, and pulled her in for fantic kisses. The woman knew then that she would never be forgotten, had no reason to worry all those years, Kalei had simply taken her time. The woman let a few tears slip by before she began singing her daughter a lullaby, thanking the gods for giving her this divine duty and delivering her such a precious gift.

Eventually Kalei and her mother drifted off, and when her son came in to check on them knew his mother's spirit was no longer of this world. Looking down at his ageless sister though, he couldn't help but smile, his mother would never die, not as long as Kalei breathed.

A millennium later, the woman had still not died, not truly. Hawai'i never forgot her mother, never replaced her, even as the sands of time moved Hawai'i from village to archipelago to kingdom to state, even as she grew from child to adult and Kalei could not accurately encompass her. Hawai'i, though, would always treasure Kalei, her first name, one given to her by a woman who knew her only as a helpless child and not the immortal being she was. Knew her before she was bold and fearless, before she was kind and weathered to the ways of the world. Knew her before Hawai'i, herself, knew what she was.

The only thing she had left of her true mother.

Hawai'i mourned as children do, when she realized her mother would not awaken, and became unruly as the weeks and months went by without her beloved caretaker. She cried for her māmā and refused to be comforted by her brother's wife or any of the village women. Hawai'i had become an orphan overnight, and let everyone around her know how upset it made her, how unfair the passage of time was on beings like her.

Eventually, the chief had had enough of her constant wailing and distress, and called for an expedition to their ancestral home. He proposed handing her over to the Ancient One who presided there, stating that if anyone was going to be able to care for her properly it would be him, and that he would have handed her over earlier if her mother wasn't so vehemently against the idea. Kalei's brother protested, horrified at the thought of losing Kalei simply because she had lost her mother and did not understand death. Sadly though, the village agreed to hand her over and soon enough Kalei was on one of three hōkūle'a and sent on her first voyage across the sea.

It was not a long journey, by her people's standards at least, and Kalei barely noticed the months go by, too enamoured by the stars above her head and the constant doting her family was giving her to care. She was held and fed and cuddled and played with endlessly, enjoying a bliss she hadn't since before her mother had become sick and frail. Those few months were the beginning of the end for life as she knew it, and soon enough, Hawai'i's voyage was over.

Her brother held her close as they docked and walked into the village center, his grasp tightening on her even as she squirmed to be let down and allowed to explore this new place. He sniffled and cupped Kalei's head as their chief went inside a lavish looking hut before gesturing for them to follow him to where a large festival seemed to be taking place

They were greeted with the sounds of cheers and smell of wonderful food, a celebration of life that would last into the night. Three men sat at the head of the congregation, drinking and laughing, before quieting as Kalei was toted in. The man in the middle stood abruptly, his eyes locked on the child, before rushing to take her into his arms. Kalei squealed at the new heights she had been lifted to. The man laughed and launched her into the air, higher than her brother could ever dream. Kalei giggled and looked around for her brother, wanting him to play with her as well, but instead saw him with tears falling down his face before he turned to leave. Kalei yelled out, her arm outstretched, asking the only way she knew how to be returned to her brother's warm embrace.

She was not returned.


Two, or Hi'ilani

His name was Aukai, sea-farer, and he took one look at her and smiled. He was a big man, large and imposing, with thick hair that hung in curls down his back and large black patterns inked into his chest and back and arms. Aukai took her from the arms of her human brother and lifted her high into the air, laughing loud and carefree before stating one word, "Mine."

And Hawai'i was, his that is, the final child to enter what would be known as the Polynesian family. A blessed daughter and joy to her newfound family, one that could see her through the ages, and raise her properly. He paid no attention to her squirming or the way she reached for her brother, and ignored the beginnings of a tantrum as he sauntered over to his brothers.

Fiji and Tonga were visiting, their men conducting business and trade agreements, while he and his brothers took the time to catch up. They were meant to leave a week ago, but Aukai had insisted they stay, citing a gut feeling that they all would need to be here for something spectacular. His brothers were unconvinced but after some teasing and taunting about them being afraid to lose yet another sailing competition both men agreed to stay. If only to prove Aukai wrong and wipe that smug expression off his face.

Aukai stopped in front of his brothers, taking in their slack-jawed expressions, "Well, well, aren't you going to greet your niece?" He asked, showing off his adorable daughter. He honestly couldn't believe he'd had another kid. Te Fenua 'Enata was a surprise, popping up a couple hundred years ago and growing steadily, already six years old and filled with energy. He was off with his aunt, but now that Hi'ilani was here it seemed a family reunion was in order. "Her name is Hi'ilani." He whispered, staring down at her small face.

Tonga finally shook off his shock, a wide grin spreading across his face, "I can't believe you had another one! And a girl too! Tahiti will be happy about that, though she won't have you wrapped around her finger anymore." He held out his hands and once Hi'ilani was cradled against his chest he spoke again, "Hello, I'm your Uncle Maau." He cooed, "I keep your father and Tonga in check, something you'll realize is needed around here."

Aukai rolled his eyes, Maau was a bit of a killjoy, but he was sensible. Sometimes at least, most of the time he was too busy worrying to enjoy the adventure they were having, but he was good with kids, something Tonga had trouble with. Speaking of Tonga, Samoa winced at the cry Hi'ilani let out once she was settled in his arms. This happened every time he was around a child, "Oh, no, no, no, don't cry Hi'ilani! It's just me! Just your Uncle Khadyot!" He bounced her nervously before silently begging Aukai to take her from him.

Samoa sighed and went to grab her, his daughter's cries silenced almost immediately, and Khadyot started whining about being hated by all the kids in the family, "You know, if you weren't so loud all the time, maybe the children would like you." Aukai teased, wincing as Hi'ilani tugged at a strand of hair. He moved to sit down between his brothers, "We're going to have to call Tahiti and the rest of the kids back here to meet her." He said, rocking his daughter to sleep. Both men groaned, Tahiti, their younger sister, was wonderful company, but she had so many kids it was almost exhausting being around her, "I know, but this is a celebration of life! Besides, Filemu needs to meet his new sister, and Tahiti's watching him right now."

The men nodded and began planning the sudden family reunion, the sounds of her father and uncles quietly arguing about where everyone will sleep and who's going to watch the kids and when gently lulled Hi'ilani to sleep. When she would wake it would be in her new home, next to her snoring father, safe and secure, but an ache in her chest, one that would never truly fade, took root there. Hi'ilani, Kalei, would spend the next few months being cooed over and introduced to the people of Samoa. Her uncles would teach her their languages and fight over who got to hold and before they knew it the rainy season was upon them, halting any voyages until it was safe to travel.

The months would pass slowly and happily, Hi'ilani adjusting to her new surroundings and family, even aging a bit moving from simple words to sentences and from toddling to running. This did wonders for Aukai's heart, seeing as Hi'ilani was prone to disappearing only to be found in the canoes or stuck in a tree somehow. Eventually, Samoa would assign her a minder and tutor to begin her schooling, enduring the almost endless teasing from his brothers about not being able to handle the kid who had obviously taken after him.

One day, while Hi'ilani was playing with the other children, a large commotion rose up from the beach. She and the other children ran to the cliff overlooking the docks to see large canoes coming onto shore. A shout was heard behind her before Hawai'i was picked by her father, "Hi'ilani! Your aunt and siblings are here!" He laughed, hefting her onto his shoulders before racing down to the beach where her uncles already were.

Fiji was waving over a woman with long black hair surrounded by a gaggle of children, all older than Hi'ilani. The woman grabbed one of the bigger boys by the arm, scolding him for something and Hi'ilani felt a laugh fall out of her mouth at his misfortune. Her father looked up at her, before letting out a disbelieving huff, "Oh so you think it's funny when someone else is in trouble, huh?" She nodded her head, it was funny to see a big kid get yelled at just like she did when she wandered off. Her father adjusted his grip on her before continuing, "Well you won't like it when Auntie Vaheana takes over minding you. She may be small but there's a reason your dad and uncles steer clear of her when it's hurricane season." He shuddered briefly before making his way over to the woman.

Vaheana looked up as a big shadow blocked out the sun, "Well if it isn't Mr. One And Done. Who's this little bug stuck to you?" She smirked, and Hawai'i felt her father laugh under her, before she was swung off his shoulders and held out to her new aunt, "This is Hi'ilani, your niece." He said, before grabbing her arm and waving it, "Say talofa, 'Lani" Hawai'i scowled, and pulled her hand away. She knew when to say hello!

"Talofa!" She yelled, squirming out of her dad's grip, and dropping to the ground. She ignored the panicked squawks the adults let out behind her before running over to the kids her auntie had brought.

There were four, all bigger and older than her, but Hawai'i was smart for her age and had been able to keep up with the big kids for a long time now. The two biggest one, a boy and a girl, were playing tag and running from another boy closer to Hi'ilani's age. The last one was sitting on the soft sands, making patterns, and generally ignoring the screeching happening around him. She went up to the quiet boy first, he seemed like the easiest to make friends with, plus he felt familiar to her in a way the other three didn't, "Aloha! I'm Hawai'i! You can call be Hi'ilani though."

The boy looked up at her, startled, before squinting at her for a moment, "I'm Te Fenau 'Enata, but my dad calls me Filemu." He studied her for a second longer before nodding to himself and standing, "I think you're my sister Auntie Tahiti keeps talking about." He then pulled her in for a quick hug, which Hawai'i gladly accepted. Filemu seemed like a nice brother, plus now she wouldn't be so bored after lessons. Filemu let go of her, turning towards the kids behind him, "Manea! Moetu! Tiaitua! I found her!" He yelled, louder than Hawai'i thought possible.

The three stopped suddenly, the smallest one falling over, before they all sprinted over to her and her brother. The oldest two, twins if their matching noses and eyes were anything to go by, crouched near her, their heads knocking together in their haste to get a good look at her. Hi'ilani flinched away slightly, suddenly shy under their wide-eyed stares, "Uh...hello. I'm Hawai'i, but my daddy calls me Hi'ilani."

The twins blinked at each other, before the girl pushed him out of the way and into the sand, "I'm Tuamotus or Moetu! Me and Gambier are the oldest and—"

"I'm older!"

Moetu sent a look to her brother on the ground before taking a calming breath, "Gambier and I are the same age and that means you have to listen to us." She finished with a crooked smile before a tugging at her arm caused her to roll her eyes and pull the other boy into her lap, "And this is Tiaitua. He's a baby like you so you should get along."

Tiaitua pushed away from his sister, "I'm Tuh'a Pae! But Tiaitua is okay too! I'm three!" He held out three fingers to her, "How old are you, Hi'ilani?" He asked.

Hawai'i looked at her fingers briefly before holding up two fingers, and the rest cheered. Manea finally pushed himself off the ground, standing to his full height, and towering over Hawai'i, "Me and Moetu are six, and Filemu is four." He looked around for a second before pointing to her Auntie and daddy, "That's our mommy, over there. She's Tahiti and super cool and strong and fun so you should be jealous." He finished with a familiar smirk. Hawai'i though he looked like Uncle Fiji when he stood like that, his chest puffed out and hands on his hips, before she could say anything though, the adults interrupted them.

Auntie Tahiti crouched down next to them, her hair falling in her face, "Did you all meet Hi'ilani?" They all nodded, "That's great! Filemu, your dad wants to give you a hug so go do that before you start playing again." She smiled, and Filemu ran to her—their—daddy, leaving Hawai'i with her cousins. Tahiti scooped her up, nuzzling her to her chest, before she told her children to grab the rest of their stuff off the canoe. And to not spoil themselves on too much breadfruit before dinner, there was going to be a feast later.

Her cousins ignored their mother, and Tahiti just sighed, hoping there wouldn't be any belly aches in the near future, "Okay Hi'ilani." She said, a conspiratorial smile on her face, "Why don't we go climb those trees your daddy says you've been eyeing." Hawai'i's eyes widened before she nodded her head frantically. Tahiti laughed, slipping her into an old and well loved baby sling over her chest. Checking to see if any of her brothers were watching, she snuck off into the woods, and was surprised that Hawai'i was so quiet, before noticing the little girl was keeping a lookout for her dad or uncles, "You know," Vaheana whispered, "I think you and I are going to get along very well."


Three, or Kahikilani

Hi'ilani was thirteen years old and chafing against her father's control.

He refused to let her grow up, refused to see her as the young adult she was becoming. It was completely unfair! Filemu was allowed to go on voyages by himself, visit his own land unsupervised and live on his own, and he was only a few years older than her! She could just scream in frustration, and she had. Many times, actually.

It was one of those times, when she had been caught throwing rocks and breaking twigs, that her siblings found her. Gambier told her she just had to get a little bigger and her dad would allow her to travel and Toamota just sneered at her and told her to get over herself. Hawai'i scoffed, get a little older they say. She could tell it didn't matter how big she got her dad was always going to baby her. She'd never catch up with her siblings and the finish line would always move just out of reach.

She huffed and sat, ignoring the sounds of Moetu and Manea walking away. She just needed to think, to be away from her family and away from the creeping embarrassment of being found mid tantrum. Hi'ilani huffed and leaned against a tree trunk, her grass skirt fanning out around her. If she could just prove to her family that she wasn't the helpless little girl they all saw her as, if they would just give her the a chance

Hi'ilani's eyes shot open, if she wanted to be independent, wanted to be seen as an adult, she'd just have to act like one. And adults, Hi'ilani knew, did what they wanted and never cared what others thought. She didn't need to prove herself to anyone! She just had to do it, go on a voyage herself, back to Hawai'i, and then no one could tell her she was too young and inexperienced because she'd already done the most adult thing possible. And by herself!

A laugh bubbled up in her chest, and Hi'ilani jumped up, feeling more like herself than she had in a long time. This was perfect! She'd pack up tonight, take one of her siblings' canoes, (they always left them out an extra day or two longer than they were supposed to), and set sail. Hawai'i nodded to herself, mapping out the path she would use to get down to the beach and how many breadfruits she would need to bring on her voyage.

The day passed quickly after that. She apologized to her father, who hugged her tight and kissed her forehead, whispering that he knew how much she wanted this independence and how he promised after the rainy season he would spend more time instructing her. Hi'ilani nodded and whispered back that she understood but still wanted to be left alone for now. They all had dinner, which Hawai'i barely ate due to the anticipation coiling in her stomach. No one commented thankfully and soon enough it was time to go to sleep.

Hours passed, the night grew on, and once Hi'ilani was certain none of her relatives were awake, she made her move. Slowly creeping out of the hut and into the village center, she quietly grabbed the food she needed, water provisions, and the oars her Aunt Voheana had made especially for her. She felt a twinge of guilt at that, remembering all the times her family had made sure to include her even when she really was too small to be any help. Hi'ilani shook her head, there was no going back, or she would always be baby Lani.

Hawai'i snuck down to the canoes, pushing the smallest canoe, one made for Tiratua a couple years before his growth spurt, and set off. As the island grew smaller and smaller, a pit of fear formed in her stomach, and it was almost enough to make her turn back. The punishment she would get from attempting to steal from her family though, kept her on the canoe and facing toward the open sea. With one last glance at her father's home, Hi'ilani began to row.

Days later, Hawai'i was feeling good about herself. She knew how long it took to get to her islands, and how many stops she would have to make before she ran out of food. Fishing was going well and a gentle rainstorm had passed her by late last night giving her the water she would need to continue. The guilt and fear she felt had long since faded away under the growing sense of confidence and newfound pride.

It felt good to be an adult.

Later, when Hawai'i was much older. She would berate herself for thinking she could manage on her own. It was a foolish notion, to think that she could fly before she was truly taught, and her family would pay the price.

Two weeks into her journey, a storm would hit. One that would put the fear of the ocean into Hawai'i heart. Waves larger than the tallest mountain would crash against her tiny canoe, harsh droplets of rain would beat down against her, turning her skin red from the force of it, and it would rage for days. It seemed to follow her, like it was a punishment for abandoning her family and would not stop until she repented. Until she understood the strength of the ocean, even in the face one eternal as her, and knew how fragile life truly is.

Hi'ilani was stubborn though, taking after her father in most aspects, but especially this one. She was prideful and filled with the invincibility that children have. For days she braved the storm, refusing to turn back, refusing to pray for safety, trusting in herself above all else. This was her downfall, and after four harrowing days of the ocean's wrath, Hawai'i fell victim to her.

Again and again and again.

Eventually, she would wash up on one of her island's shores. Battered and unconscious she would lay there until a hunting party found her and took her back to their tribe. When she awoke, she knew she was different, knew that the earth had taken pity on her and sent her towards her homeland, but not without taking a piece of her away. The rapid fire repeated deaths, that trauma from scorning the ocean, left her memory foggy and unwhole.

When asked where she came from and who she was, she simply told them Hawai'i. The men made to question her once more, thinking her a spy sent from a rival clan, before she spoke again, "I was taken to Kahiki to be with my kind, but no longer. I am meant to be here, with my people." This she knew to be true, but just who her kind were only brought blurry memories of a large man smiling down at her.

The men asked her where Kahiki was, if she was bringing along invaders, or would invite outsiders to look for her, Hawai'i shook her head, "No...we won't have to worry. No one will look for me, and I will not leave." They asked her why she would stay away from her family, away from her kind, for they knew in their bones she was not mortal. Hawai'i winced as her head began to pound, the way home was gone, taken from her by the ocean, "The Gods have taken my memory," She stated, before looking the chief in the eyes, "This is home."

"What is your name then, Eternal One?" The chief asked, his eyes boring into hers. Taking in the wet and shriveled up girl in front of him. This child who reeked of the earth, and set the hairs on the back of his neck standing, but whose eyes were warm and comforting all the same. She was an omen, though good or bad, he did not know.

The girl, Hawai'i, looked down at her hands, obviously trying to recall anything from her past, before she shook her head, "I—I don't know…" she admitted, tears gathering in her eyes.

The chief looked towards his right hand man, who was just as bewildered as he was, but eventually spoke, "We believe that your name should change as you do." He said softly, "Perhaps you've simply outgrown who you were before coming here, and your name no longer represents you"

The girl looked up at that, her eyes widening before a small smile graced her face, "Yes, I think you're right…" She turned to the chief, looking older than she was a moment before, more confident and sure of herself, looking like she belonged here, "Kahikilani. I want to be known as Kahikilani."


Four, or I'ia'i

The process of leaving a name behind varied everytime. Hawai'i was not a particularly picky woman or overly sentimental when it came to her names. She was Ancient and didn't need a singular name to go by, not when Hawai'i had always described her best. So when, one morning she woke and knew the name she went to sleep with no longer fit, she let it go. Refusing to respond to it, and telling the villagers to refer to her as Hawai'i until the Gods put her newest name in her mind's eye.

This time, though, was different. It was a time of turbulence, the clans fighting for power, killing each other as foreign enemies even when Hawai'i knew them all to be brothers. The Civil War, as they would come to be known, made her weak and indecisive. No name she wore felt right, the weight of it leaning heavily on her chest, and her newfound namelessness ached terribly. She felt like a baby again, adrift in the world with no one to love her, felt like her teenage self, angry at the world and her family and wretchedly alone.

The days would turn to weeks, the weeks to months and soon Hawai'i had come up on a year with no new name in sight. It was humbling, and Hawai'i wondered if she had done something wrong. If she had angered the Gods someway, done something to keep her identity from her as they had with the way home. She prayed and begged that night, for a sign, for a star, for somebody to reach out to her. Sobbed like she hadn't since she realized there really would be no reunion for her, no fierce embrace from her father, no luau celebrating her return. Realized her family forgot her as she forgot them.

It was a painful night, but the next day she felt the Earth tug her to the northmost point of the island. Towards one of her great human loves, and towards the beginning of a new life. Her trek was long, but easy in a way she'd never experienced, as if the trees and foliage moved out of her path and the wind urged her onward. She made it to Kohala in record time, and that was when she met him.

Her Great King.

And he was great, strong and wise, intelligent and charismatic, everything she needed. He was her true north, unifying the islands and, with her at his side, renamed himself Kamehameha. King Kamehameha the Great, it sang in her ears and once he had finished the decree, he turned to her, warmth and pride in his eyes, and pulled her away into a secluded nook. Under the soft breeze he renamed Hawai'i, saying she shined like the moon, always there, waiting for him to find her, and that was why he was able to unite the clans and build their newfound kingdom.

He called her I'ai'i. It nearly brought tears to her eyes, the name settled around her neck like a beautiful lei, breezy and light. The name lifted her head and filled her with a purpose. She squeezed him tight, this man who loved her and her people so dearly. This man who she knew would never be lost to time. They stayed there for a while, just holding each other, revelling in victory and relief, before pulling back.

Hawai'i spoke softly then, "It's nice to meet you, King Kamehameha."

Kamehameha smiled, snorting at her antics, "And it's a pleasure to meet you, I'ai'i."

I'ai'i let out a laugh, loud and boisterous. This was better than a luau, better than surfing, better than anything she had ever experienced. I'ai'i felt whole, and powerful, stronger than she had ever felt and hoped this prosperity would last centuries, that the next time some foreign power stepped foot on her land they would not look with greed but caution. Would treat her as an equal and not look down on her for being ignorant to their ways.

Behind her the celebration continued on into the night. Later, at the beginning of the end, a European ship would dock on her shores. It was large and imposing, but what set Hawai'i's teeth on edge was the bone deep knowledge that someone like her was on board. He was of the sea, bloated with land and resources, and filled with a nauseating sense of greed. The stench of it pooled in her stomach and I'ai'i knew instinctively that the waters he was created from were harsh and cold and filled with bodies. She did not want to meet him, and yet her curiosity held her in place. I'ai'i stifled a gasp as he stepped out, the sun haloing his golden hair and shining off the silver and gold decorating his strange clothes. He zeroed in on her instantly, and in descending down the gangplank, parted his men like the wind to young trees during a hurricane.

Finally reaching her, he stood tall with his head high and deep green eyes boring into her, the way a puhi does while deciding if an attack was worth the effort. The little girl in I'ai'i, the one who still cried when she found dead jellyfish washed up on the beach, wanted to slink away, but the kingdom in her, the one still drunk off of victory and her own newfound strength, kept her head high and forced her to maintain eye contact. The man stayed silent for a moment longer before smiling and holding out a hand, "Hello Hawaii, I've heard so much about you." He glanced down at her hand, still at her side before sighing, "Dear, hold out your hand to me. It's called a handshake." Hawai'i narrowed her eyes at the tone of his voice, but stiffly held out her hand towards his waiting one. He grasped hers tightly before moving them up and down once or twice, "My name is England, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Hawai'i returned the peasantries, feeling like she'd entered a new world, "Welcome to the Kingdom of Hawai'i, England. I can show you around, if you like?" The man smiled at her, motioning her to lead him away from the mortals behind them. Ah, a private conversation between Eternal Ones, Hawai'i obliged and led him to her house, secluded and away from the rest of the growing town.

As England sat down, taking in her possessions, "So, I hear you're quite isolated out here." He said quietly, "Have you come in contact with anyone else like me before?"

I'ai'i glanced at him, wondering if he meant his rivals or if he genuinely thought she was so completely isolated as to never have met another immortal, "You mean a European nation?" She asked quietly, using their strange term instead of her own. The man nodded his head, a sharp look in his eyes, one filled with the will to conquer and refusal to lose whatever game he was playing. Hawai'i stored that away; it was always good to know your enemies weaknesses but better to know an allies' flaws, "Then yes, I have." England's eye twitched, "I believe his name was…" She glanced away for a second, acutely aware of the man leaning closer to her, "Kepania."

England cursed under his breath, his hands clenched into fists, before he regained himself, "Ah, so you've had the misfortune of meeting Spain. I apologize, he's a bit of an annoying bloke, isn't he?"

At that Hawai'i thought back to the man she'd met all those years ago. He was a flirt for sure, always asking her for a dance, for a moment away, for a private tour, but Hawai'i knew better. He smelled the same as England did, like blood and smoke, with matching poison filled eyes. Antonio, though, was a bit more charismatic than England, giving his name to her in between a spew of compliments and flattery. She smiled softly, "He gave off a very different impression of European nations than you do."

"Well, I promise you we're not all like him, though if you ever come across a man called Francis you'll want to run in the other direction."

Hawai'i laughed at that, these new nations were so strange. England's eyes widened, "I'm serious! That frog is one of the most disrespectful men I have ever met! If he comes near you, feel free to send word to me! I'll keep him away from you." He yelled out. His face red with anger, and very large eyebrows furrowed, marring his face with age old stress lines.

Hawai'i's eyes widened at the bold declaration. Huh, perhaps under all that arrogance and stiff posture there was a bit of charm in England, "Thank you, England." She cut off his rant, "I would love to accept your offer of friendship." England blinked up at her, surprise on his face, before Hawai'i stood and grabbed his hand. Pulling the man to stand she gently pulled his face closer to her, letting their noses touch, and breathed. England was stiff under her hands, holding so still she thought he had hurt himself, but eventually he shared breath with her and their new friendship was sealed, "There." She said as she pulled away, taking in his flushed expression, "Now you know how to greet a Hawaiian properly."

England spluttered at that, stuttering about improperness and how Antonio must have gotten to her. Hawai'i giggled quietly at the empire; she hoped this man would stay a friend.


Five, or Nāwei

The first time I'ai'i met America, he was a friend.

The boy was young, terribly young, and alone in a way that made Hawai'i's heart ache. A loud and boisterous boy, still tipsy from his newfound independence from England, his father. The boy met her on her island, asking to be allies in an echo of his former caretaker, and I'ai'i agreed. Hoping to appease him in the same way she appeased his father, and he was his father's son, she could tell. His eyes were heavy with that same hunger England had, this time, though, it wasn't a sated hunger, but one just beginning to ache in his stomach. It set her on edge, but she had come out unscathed from an encounter with the British Empire, what was his rebellious child capable of that he wasn't?

I'ai'i would soon find out.

His people sensed instability in her kingdom. Like sharks to bleeding fish they descended upon her, tearing her sovereignty from her and forcing her on her knees. Overthrowing her monarchs, and stripping I'ai'i of her sense of self. Hawai'i was left with nothing. She was disgusted, with who she didn't know, and filled with seething rage. It slithered through her veins and tainted the very air she breathed.

The annexation was painful, like an amputation. Blood would fill her mouth randomly, her eyesight would go blurry, and there were days she would simply lay in bed, refusing to eat or drink. She felt her body ache with the need to for action, for retribution, but it would not come. Her people were overwhelmed by American settlers, overwhelmed by the sickening taste of sugar cane, and weak to the power of their new oppressive government. She was weak to America, and so he took her independence, her monarchy, and her name. Her precious name was stolen from her by a child who didn't even have the decency to show his face when she entered his country as a territory.

An American territory. She was a territory! Hawai'i could scream into the night, could swim the ocean and demand this decree reversed. She wanted to go up to America, the Golden Boy King, who was just as filled with hate and disdain for life as his father, and rip his heart out. For a brief second, Hawai'i felt afraid of the woman she was becoming, of the new name that would come from this betrayal, but her people's anger and scorn towards their new rulers blocked it out.

And Nāwei was born.

Nāwei would spend the next decade a terrible person to be around. She pushed her friends away, refused to even look at American tourists or interact with people who she knew were not of Hawaiian blood. The sugar in her tea tasted like ash, the money she was making felt slick with blood, and the multiple letters sent by that Boy King were burned without a second glance.

England had reached out to her, once. The coup happened while her monarchs were celebrating Queen Victoria's jubilee at his castle in London. He wrote to her how sorry he was that she had been taken advantage of by that wretched child. How if she needed anything to not hesitate to ask, even if their allegiance was now null and void. Pretty words, but they meant nothing when no action was taken. He stood by, watched as she was overrun and overthrown, and had the gall to try and comfort her! Nāwei should have never trusted him, never fallen for that buried heart of gold act, never befriended a man bathed in blood. Should have fought off the Europeans, been so vicious and brutal in her methods they would warn their spawn to stay away from her and her people.

Nāwei hadn't though; she hoped for peace, cowed by their guns and ships, and let the devil in through the front door. Arthur's boy was just like him, a conqueror, a colonizer, and she was a fool to believe she could go unnoticed a second time.


Six, or Ha'aheo

Ha'aheo was a woman scorned.

Isolated and forced into becoming a territory of the rising Boy King, she was beyond humiliated and filled with a shaking rage that was sinking steadily into her bones the more she thought about it. The Boy King, America, was coming to visit, his government sending him to check up on her and make sure her people were complying to their new way of life; Ha'aheo's heart began to pound as anger and despair flooded her. She could see the ship in the distance, large and imposing, a show of power and weapon of fear. Silently she wondered how cathartic it would be to challenge the Boy King to fight, or to simply ambush him and make him feel as helpless as she felt. Even if it would only be for a moment.

Forcing a steading breath, Hawai'i forced a neutral expression. It would do no good to give into impulse; she had heard what happened to the natives of his land, how they had been systemically hunted down and forced to surrender their homes and ways of life. Ha'aheo would be damned before she let that happen, even if it meant playing nice with that evil child.

Slowly the ship docked, and white men began filtering off, carrying goods and supplies for the plantations being created on her lands. Ha'aheo forced a plastic smile, knowing how dearly Americans loved smiles, and practiced the light and pleasant tone she was to greet him in. He was a fragile thing, that she could tell from the first glance. Oh, physically he was impenetrable, strong and filled with youthful energy and that same unending hunger all European nations seemed to emit. Emotionally though, Hawai'i doubted he had ever been taught how to handle any situation without a superhuman punch.

It would be sad if it didn't make him such an unstable enemy.

And an enemy he was. An invading force, a colonizer, and something to be wary of. Hawai'i would not let her guard down around this child, would not be fooled by his dazzling smile or charming voice, he was a snake and a tool to control her. Ha'aheo's hands clenched, and she could feel her nails digging crescents into her palms. Taking one last steading breath, Hawai'i looked up to the dock where the golden head of the Boy King stood.

Or leaned?

America was making a racket, wailing and carrying on like a seasick child, before he was hefted up by a young man in a nearly identical uniform. The young man then proceeded to piggyback ride America down the gangplank, following the procession of men and walking in the complete opposite direction. As they grew closer, and then farther away, completely ignoring both and her officials, Ha'aheo could make out the faint sound of pain filled groans from America and unsympathetic snickering coming from what must be America's assigned agent. Her eye twitched, America she could understand, but that young man carrying him should know better if he was to guide and protect the personification.

The Americans were eventually directed towards her, after being accosted by an older man who grabbed them both by the arms like children, while the higher-ups went off to talk. The two men, boys, really, now that she looked at them, sauntered over to her, their heavy shoes sinking into the sand and hair beginning to stick to their foreheads. Ha'aheo watched as their straight backs gradually loosened the farther away from their superiors they got and saw how they began to whisper and giggle, shoving and grabbing at each other' looking to all the world like two children sneaking away from the supervision of their parents.

Hawai'i could have waved them over to her, made herself known and gotten the interaction over with, but as she went to clear her throat something tugged at the back of her mind. America's guard, or handler or whatever he was to the personification, reminded her of someone. It nagged at her, something in the way his hair fell, or the tilt of his smile was so familiar. Ha'aheo shook her head, probably some invader's child grown up and given the task of following America around as a first bit of adult responsibility. Though, by the looks of it, neither boys were very interested in playing the part of adults, if the crude jokes and near constant punching and grappling was anything to go by.

Huh, that same plastic expression she saw in the mirror was staring back at her in stereo. How strange, but she supposed after annexing and removing so many nations from their homes, he must be a master at navigating meetings with people who hate him. She held out her hand, the way she'd seen Americans do, and spoke, "Aloha, it is nice to see you again, after all this time, Mr. America."

The boy's eyes widened before he grasped her hand, calloused but surprisingly gentle, and shook it, "Hi! I'm sorry it took me so long to come out and welcome you, but me an' Tex were just swamped with, uh, other business." He laughed nervously, before straightening, "Oh! And I told you before you don't have to call me 'Mr. America', that's way too formal for me." He let go of her and scratched the back of his neck, "Just call me America, or Alfred."

Hawai'i's eyes narrowed, what a strange boy, "Alright. America, I hope you enjoy your time in the archipelago." She turned towards America's handler, or who she assumed was his handler, now that she was up close, she could smell that unique earthy scent all personifications gave off, "And, who is this with you?" 'Which nation are you?' she silently asked.

The boy stepped up to her, tall and gangly as all teenagers are, and tipped his wide brimmed hat to her, "Howdy, ma'am, Tex G. Jones at your service." He held out a hand for her to take before bending down and kissing it softly. Hawai'i blinked, a gentleman then, "I'm much obliged to meet your acquaintance." He let go of her hand and stood back up, tall and proud, sure of himself and his own invincibility in the way only children are.

And that's when Ha'aheo saw it. Saw his smile, sharp and cruel like that man's was all those years ago. Saw the soft curl of his hair and the whisper of his father's broad shoulders in Tex's stance. Hawai'i felt her heart stutter, this was Texas, the Republic turned state, still alive after vanishing off the world stage decades ago. 'How clever, to keep a secondary personification secret, allowing a sort of trump card should one step out of line or die prematurely', she thought privately. Ha'aheo blinked, suddenly aware of the stiff expressions the boys were wearing, and nodded solemnly. Texas' secret was an olive branch of sorts, a way to instill some type of solidarity in her, or a threat, meant to remind her that even if she did ambush America, killing him and earning vengeance, a second one would simply be waiting for her around the corner. Ha'aheo schooled her expression, taking note of the glances the two nations were aiming at each other, "I see. It's a pleasure to meet you, Texas." The boys grinned at her, letting out a breath of relief, before excusing themselves to attend to the business aspect of their visit. Hawai'i watched them go, and reluctantly saw her own sullen teenage self reflected in their retreating forms, 'How cruel, to play such a trick on the world.'

Her own isolation had been an accident and, once her body had worn off the shock of Gods' knows how many deaths, stubborn refusal to play the part of Hi'iliani any longer. That and the fact that she genuinely couldn't remember how to get back to her family, plus they hadn't ever come looking for her and Hawai'i's heart broke every time she thought of her family forgetting her. Ha'aheo was stubborn though, she had gotten that from her father, and, after the abandonment had sunk in and her tears had dried, she resolved to stay on her home islands and be the grown up she desperately wanted to be.

Even if it meant being all alone at the edge of the universe.

Ha'aheo shook the memories away. No use dwelling on past hurts, it just clouded her judgement in the present. Better not to sympathize with those boys, it would just end up hurting her when they turned out to be just like their fathers. Hawai'i made her way back to her home, intending to run a few errands before settling in for the night. She cringed at that thought, it was barely three o'clock and she was planning an early night in. Ugh she hated being old! The annexation had aged her about five years, pushing her firmly into her thirties, which would be fine if she didn't ache so much all of a sudden. Hawai'i had never had back pain until that damned Committee of Safety showed up and ruined everything. Hopefully these aches would wear off once her people healed from the coup and annexation.

Ha'aheo leaned against the wooden walls of her western house, and felt a sharp pang of longing for the thatched roof of her old home. She shuffled inside, setting down the groceries she had bought in a haze, before making her way to the sitting room. A cool breeze blew in from the window, and Hawai'i let the ocean salt surround her, taking her back to swimming with her siblings and sailing with her father. And the surfing competitions. Hawai'i's people had taught her that one, bringing their Paipo boards out to her on a visit and teaching her and her father how to surf. Well, more like teaching Samoa to surf and allowing Hawai'i to sit on the board in the shallows. They'd brought it back to the family and had been having competitions ever since, or at least until Hawai'i left. She wouldn't be surprised if they stopped surfing the minute she left, easier to forget her if her one contribution to their family was gone.

Hawai'i leaned her head back, there she goes getting all worked up over something that happened hundreds of years ago! She told herself to focus on the good memories, and, unbidden, the thought of finally defeating her father in a surf contest popped into her brain. He was the best of the best when she was a kid, but Hawai'i knew now that no one was better than her. Hawai'i was the original after all!

Outside the sounds of the crashing waves seemed to call to her, getting louder and louder the longer she ignored them. Ha'aheo let out a sigh, "Alright." She said, getting up and heading outside, "Just for a little while, though!" She called out to the ocean, grabbing her beloved surfboard and running out to the little stretch of beach she'd washed up on all those years ago.

The beach was tranquil, devoid of mortals and docking ships, just far enough away from the towns and cities for their grating sounds to be drowned out by the waves and the suffocating smog to be cleared by the smell of sea salt. If Ha'aheo closed her eyes, she could pretend she was here with her māmā, could almost hear the laughter of her uncles and the screeches of her siblings, felt the touch of her dad and smell the lighting in her aunt's veins. This was her last peaceful place, and she was glad no one ever came out this far. People avoided this beach for some reason. Said it was haunted by a drowned girl's spirit who would roam the beach searching for her family, and dragging anyone who wasn't to inky black depths. Hawai'i always had to excuse herself when that particular story came up, but never discouraged it for fear of losing her safe space.

Hawai'i pulled her clothes off, the stuffy western dress left crumpled in the sand alongside her useless shoes and heavy petticoat. Nude and feeling more like herself than she had in weeks, Ha'aheo grabbed her board and began paddling. She lost herself in the feel of the waves under her, forgetting all the frustration and anger that had been plaguing her in the months leading up to America's arrival, and just enjoyed this sacred activity.

Minutes or hours later, Hawai'i heard the sounds of voices coming towards her beach. She cursed to herself, of course the one day she needed to be alone a couple of teenagers would decide to test their bravery by going down to the haunted beach. Ha'aheo slid off her board and paddled to a more secluded part of the beach, hoping the kids wouldn't be there too long. It was such a hassle to get western dresses back on, especially wet, and she couldn't walk back to her house naked like she used to. The teenagers began to laugh and yell out in fear the closer they got, and Hawai'i let out a harsh sight before hefting herself up onto one of the black rocks jutting out into the waters and waited.

"Aw, come one, Tex. Why does it have to be this beach!?"

Ha'aheo sat up. There was no way…

"Al, are you really scared of a little girl's ghost? I thought you were a hero! Don't you wanna set her spirit free?" The Texan snickered out, and Hawai'i almost screamed in frustration. Of course! Why wouldn't the ghost story attract two unsupervised teenagers? She was going to wring the neck of whoever told them about this beach at all. Just send them to the tourists beaches!

"I mean—I guess I do…" America muttered, "But, what if she's a demon? And attaches herself to us!? Tex, I really can't deal with a little demon girl in our room at night!" He whined out, and Hawai'i almost felt bad for him.

She moved her head slightly, trying to see the boys over the craggy cliff overhangs and volcanic rock hiding her from them. Texas was pushing America forward, towards the water and laughing at his attempts to dig his heels in, "If she's a demon, I know how to exorcise her. Don't worry about it!" At America's disbelieving look, Tex huffed out, "I was raised Catholic, dumbass. I know enough Latin and prayers to scare her away. 'Sides," He put his arm around America, leaning in close, "if she was a demon, I'd be able to tell! Those things are na-asty and leave a really bad taste in my mouth." He muttered out the last part, and stuck his tongue out like he was trying to rid himself of whatever a demon tastes like.

America turned to him, and for a brief moment Hawai'i could see his face, and was reminded how young he was. With that scared expression on his face, he seemed like a little child, and Ha'aheo felt her heart go out to him, if only for a moment. Alfred put on a brave face, one that trembled even after his brother assured him there was no demon to be found, "Okay. Let's do this! Al and Tex ghost hunting adventures are a go!" He shouted, pumping his fist in the air, all the while Tex hollered in agreement.

Hawai'i stifled a laugh, they were such boys.

Tex looked around, squinting off into the distance and even wading into the water, which made Alfred squeak in fear for his brother's safety, before turning back and shrugging, "I don't really see anything? Usually by now ghosts come out to bother me or scream at me to leave, but there's no one here." He said, a disappointed look on his face. Alfred though, seemed extremely relieved at the idea of their 'ghost hunting adventure' being a bust.

"You wanna go swimming, then?" He asked, already pulling off the specs he was wearing and undoing his bowtie.

"Took the words right outta my mouth, little brother!" Tex yelled, tossing off his shirt and gently laying his hat a few feet away from the tide. Both boys began to splash in the water, shouting and screaming like the kids they were. She watched on as they dunked each other in the water, had a contest to see who could hold their breath the longest and even played pretend for a bit before they got in a fight over the power system.

After almost an hour of listening to them have their fun, grinning like a madwoman and feeling her heart do flips whenever she heard them laugh themselves into a fit, they began to dry off. They were having a pointless conversation, something about a horse and dancing in a row, Ha'aheo wasn't listening too closely, before it abruptly cut off. Her eyes opened, wondering what had caused the unnatural silence, before Tex's shaky voice called out, "Al...is that a lady's dress?"

Hawai'i's stomach dropped out from beneath her, and she cursed herself for not hiding it better.

"Y-yeah...you, uh, you don't think it's the ghost right?" Alfred whispered, his voice reaching an octave she didn't think was possible before. She chanced a look at the boys to find them huddled close together, staring at her clothes as if it'd come alive and eat them any second.

"No, I told you there's no ghosts here!" Tex whispered back, fear turning into irritation.

"Well did you look for a lady ghost, or a girl ghost? What if she's upset we called her a little demon girl, or that we swam at her beach!?" America was getting frantic now, and Hawai'i decided to just bite the bullet and save them both from some type of hysteria induced heart attack.

She slid into the water, grabbed her board and paddled over the beach, all the while listening to America's paranoid scenarios which were getting more and more ridiculous by the second. The boys were both facing away from her still, too preoccupied with thoughts of their imminent deaths to hear her pad up to them. She cleared her throat, "Boys, that's not a ghost's dress its mine." She said, shouting a little to be heard.

Both Texas and America shrieked, jumping high in the air before spinning to stare at her. All three nations stood for a beat, taking in each other, before the boys screamed again, their faces turning redder than an 'i'iwi and slapping their hands over their eyes. Texas going the extra mile and slapping third hand over Alfred's.

"YOU-YOU-YOU'RE NAKED!" America yelled, his body shuddering and Hawai'i wondered if she should be offended by their reaction.

"Yeah, I was surfing." She answered, stooping to gather her clothes.

"WHY!?"

"More comfortable." Ha'aheo pulled the dress over her head, forgoing the complicated underwear, "You can look now." Both boys shook their heads frantically, still blushing bright red. Hawai'i shrugged, whatever made them comfortable. She turned to leave, figuring the sound of her retreating footsteps would give the boys enough time to recover, "Oh, and by the way." She looked back at them, still standing stock still and stiff as a board, "You don't have to worry about a ghost here." Hawai'i let out a little laugh, committing their terrified faces to memory, "The girl who drowned here was me!" With that, she ran up the hill towards her house, their fading screeches echoing in her ears.

Those boys weren't too bad.


Seven, or Pauahi

By the time the second World War knocked at her door, Hawai'i had given up on keeping her away from America and Texas. She'd fallen in love with them, hopeless and completely. It was almost embarrassing how quickly it happened too. One day she couldn't stand the sight of them, then they would say something so incredibly naive and sweet she could hardly keep herself from showering them in hugs and kisses. They were just so terribly alone in this world, and Hawai'i had always been a bleeding heart.

The more she saw of them, the more dear they became to her. Hawai'i just wanted to wrap them up and keep them close, and knock some sense into them! Early on she'd learned how they took care of themselves; that was the day Hawai'i swore to be the mother neither of them had, and promised herself she would save those boys from themselves.

After that, it was hard for her to keep away, but those boys were anything but dependent. Sneering at the thought of an adult figure orbiting them, of someone other than each other taking care of them, and Hawai'i knew she'd have to play the long game if she ever wanted them to trust her. Slowly but surely, like two wild animals, they warmed up to her. The day America performed the honi ihu with her, without stiffening up or scrambling away the second it was over, Hawai'i could've burst with joy.

Of course, that joy didn't last long.

Pearl Harbor was painful for all of them. The burn scars bubbled on her back, large and a deep angry red. A physical mark for the horrors her people witnessed, and the scorching pain of it all brought her to her knees. Screeching in anguish, a headache exploded behind her eyes, whiting out her vision and leaving her heaving and breathless. This type of warfare was still new to her, and these new wounds caused a fresh kind of pain she'd never experienced, and hoped to never experience again.

Once she had gotten her bearings, once she was able to think around the pulsing headache and constant sting of cotton brushing against her blistering back, a new name burned itself into her like the ships burned in her harbor, and Pauahi rushed to the telephone. Grateful her boys had insisted on having one installed in her house, against her protests of letters and telegrams being enough for her, she dialed America's emergency line. Her hands trembled, shaking with rising panic for Alfred's safety that grew with every too long ring.

"Hawaii?" Alfred's muffled voice asked.

Hawai'i sank into the nearest chair, the relief knocking her breath from her for the second time that day, "Yes, baby, it's me. Are you and Texas safe?" She whispered in fear, her people's newborn paranoia influencing her own.

There was a bit of shuffling in the background, but eventually Alfred spoke up again, " , me an' Tex are okay, just a couple head wounds. And I think Tex has a concussion, he was hanging up some Christmas lights when it happened." Hawai'i stifled a gasp, her sons were so far away from her and now they were hurt. The other line crackled to life again and she could make out Texas yelling, or trying to yell, that he was fine and 'Al was the one that needed to get his head looked at. He was bleeding like a stuck pig.'

"Baby, if you're hurt, you need to call someone to help you." She scolded, " Tex doesn't sound too good and it looks like both of you need to take a trip to the hospital!" Honestly, these boys were going to be the death of her! Pauahi needed to get on the first trip to the mainland, needed to see her sons safe and whole before she showed Japan just what happens when he messes with Hawai'i.

"I don't know, money's kinda tight right now…"

Hawai'i cursed inwardly, this damn government was running her boys ragged and didn't even have the decency to cover medical bills, "No buts! If I have to, I'll drag you there myself, don't think I won't!" She harped, keeping her volume low, in case Alfred had a concussion as well and was just hiding it from her.

Alfred sighed, and Hawai'i felt his weariness over the phone, "We'll go to the hospital if it doesn't heal up by the time we're done with the meeting."

Pauahi's eye twitched, "Meeting?" Surely their government wasn't going to force them to enter a war meeting with head wounds.

'Yeah, Frank called one after the news hit. Said there was a car coming by to get us soon." Alfred muttered something too low for her to hear, and she heard the sound of his heavy footfalls, "Hold on, I gotta help Tex with his boots. He keeps fallin' when he bends over so I told him to lay down and I'd get them on for him." She heard the phone hit the table, and then some more muffled conversation between the boys. Pauahi took a calming breath, trying to ignore the fresh wave of pain it brought. It was official, she knew deep down, they were entering the European War, the newest edition in Wars To End All Wars.

Her boys were going to run headfirst into the thick of it, their fear and pain over being attacked would turn to rage, and they would come back to her in caskets. Again and again. Pauahi tipped her head back, trying to quell the sudden urge to cry, to call up the highest official she could and beg them not to send her boys back into the spray of bullets and gas. Not again.

"—waii? Are you still there?"

Hawai'i flinched, she'd almost passed out. Maybe she should take her own advice and see a doctor about her still bleeding burns, "Yes, baby, I'm here. Sorry, I was caught up in my thoughts." Alfred laughed at that, joking about her getting old, to which Hawai'i said she was only old when they were around to make her feel it.

They continued talking for a while, Hawai'i enjoying the sound of his voice and random interjections from Texas, before she heard loud honking from their end, "Ah, looks like they're here. We gotta go Lani! Call you later?"

Hawai'i breathed out heavily, still fighting the urge to ask him to stay on the line with her, to ignore his duty and just come live with her, where she could keep them safe from harm and away from death's creeping touch, "Yes, call me when you're back. I'll be here, and don't call me Lani, anymore. My name's Pauahi." She heard Alfred repeat the new name to himself, before whispering it to Texas who slurred it out as well. Another loud honk broke the quiet, causing her boys to make a commotion over the line before it went dead.

Hawai'i set the phone down gently. This was going to be a very long day, and many long days were ahead of her. Slowly she pushed herself up, and shuffled towards the door. A quick trip to the hospital and then to her capitol building. As she pushed open her door, Pauahi could hear the screaming and crying of wounded soldiers and terrified citizens; their fear sat heavy in her chest.

The sun was bright, it was barely noon, and Hawai'i had a lot of paperwork to do, namely pushing for the Women's Auxiliary Army Corps to be fully instated.