Ch 11

A/N: *School + Academic Team = Slow Updates. I'm writing this when I'm supposed to be sleeping, because frankly, like the rest of you… I wanted to know what was going to be in Chapter 11 as well! *

"Go away, England! I hate you!"

It seemed as if every step Arthur took echoed that to him. What had he done? Alfred had always been such an… upbeat person, to say the least. For him to declare an emotion like hatred… It could not have come from a light reason. And it pierced Arthur. The chill of causing pain to a loved one prickled up and down his spine, and he could do nothing about it. What had he done? What had he done?

He reached his room, and even the rustling of the screen door sounded dejected as he slid it open. His bed was a desolate nest in the corner, and even the glaring British flag on the covers could do little to cheer him up. What use was a bed if you didn't have anyone to share it with when you're lonely, to cuddle with when you're cold, or to have a pillow fight with when you're sad? What use was anything when you had no one to love?

Sinking down into a chair, Arthur extended his hand, glaring at it. This was the hand of the man who had dared to hurt America. But this was also the hand of a man who would make it right again. The question was…

…How?

-xxx-

"Idiot."

Alfred sank even further down, now lying down upon the cold wooden floor. Why had Arthur left so easily? Why didn't he stay, protest, or sputter in indignation like he always did? Why didn't he shout out in agony that he loved Alfred and wanted to stay by his side?

"Idiot."

Of course he wouldn't. Despite his smatterings with unicorns, Alfred knew Arthur was a straight-forward person, a man frugal with emotions. He definitely wouldn't fall in love. Especially not with America. And Alfred wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing what sway he held over the younger nation. But, for how long could Alfred keep his feelings bottled up? He had never felt a love so passionate as he did now, the taste of his affection rushing through his bloodstream, intoxicating him with its sweet aroma. It felt if it would flow out of him, erupt into a crazed romance and endless hunger for Arthur. If only…

If only Arthur could tell Alfred he loved him, then everything would be better. Then perhaps this agony that America felt in his chest would finally leave him. He wanted Arthur. He wanted him so bad. But Arthur was probably in his own room right now, and in his heart, he probably felt unicorns were more valuable then Alfred.

"Hey."

Alfred glanced up, but to his disappointment, Gilbert was standing in the doorway, glancing down at him uncomfortably. There was an awkward pause as the two nations regarded each other. Finally, Gilbert cleared his throat.

"I… uh… saw you running down the hall there. I couldn't care less, but… OI!"

Alfred's sapphire eyes had begun swimming with tears again. Gilbert shifted, discomfited, "Don't cry, please. Want to tell me what's wrong? Not that I care or…"

There was a pause as Alfred dried his tears, willing his normal ludicrous character back. Love could wreck havoc upon how a person acted, and as "awesome" as the nations were, in that aspect, even they could not escape flaws that we all experience. Half-succeeded, Alfred managed a watery grin.

"England's just being a jerk, but nothing I can't stand!" Alfred waved his hand, attempting to put on a careless air, "After all, I'm a hero!"

"England's being a jerk?" Gilbert repeated, astonishment widening his shimmering crimson eyes** slightly, "What'd you do? Break his heart or something?"

"More like the other way around…" Alfred muttered without thinking, before covering his mouth.

"What? England broke your heart?" Gilbert drew back. He had been so certain that Arthur had been the one in love here, but, if what he just heard was correct, it was really just Alfred. But to think that Alfred could have been rejected by Arthur. It just didn't add up… The whole thing was quite intriguing, really… Not that Gilbert really took an interest, but maybe he should ask Arthur what was going on in his mind about Alfred.

"Yeahh~~" Alfred had given up on silencing himself. The straight-forwardness of the albino was impossible not to confide in. There was just something about Gilbert that told you that he would never judge you, or hide any snide remarks behind you. If he had a complaint, he would just tell you. "He's in love with Japan."

"Japan?! Are you sure?"

"Of cou—" Alfred started, before pausing. What real proof did he have that Arthur was indeed in love with Kiku? The Brit had mentioned his name just once. Had the truth been that Alfred was just so blinded by his own jealousy that every attention paid by Arthur to anyone but himself seem like a misplaced affection? Under the scrutiny of Gilbert, he deliberately shook his head.

"No, I'm not sure… Thanks, Prussia!" He leapt to his feet, preparing to confront Arthur. If everything had been born from Alfred's jealousy, then perhaps he still had a chance. Perhaps… Perhaps… No. He couldn't allow himself to hope that far.

Suddenly, he could hear the sound of slight static. He glanced at Gilbert's collar, where he had attached the radios Kiku had given them. Alfred's and Arthur's were lying about somewhere, probably banished to some distant corner while the nations recuperated.

"Prussia-san, are you there?" It was the voice of Kiku himself.

Gilbert was about to answer, but suddenly, Alfred grabbed the radio off of his collar and shouted, "Japan~~~~! You're okay!!"

"Ah. America-san." Kiku sounded surprised, but pleased, "We have no time to waste, to excuse me if I skip the formalities***. I was actually contacting Prussia-san because I have to request some back-up to defeat the Pacific Ocean… He is currently residing in North America, but I haven't the strength to attempt such a…"

"Say no more!" Alfred responded, "Let me go!"

"Alone, America-san??" Kiku sounded worried, "You and England-san are both so rash. Will you please reconsider?"

"Why should I?" Alfred retorted, "England came alone to save me, didn't he? It is that this hero can do to get rid of the boss for you."

Kiku lapsed into silence and, thrusting Gilbert's radio back to him, Alfred began scrambling for the jets. He would show Arthur. He would defeat the Pacific Ocean, return victorious, and then confess. After all…

…Who can resist a true hero?

**A/N: Is it just me, or are Gilbert's eyes really glorious?

***A/N: I confess that this chapter isn't my best work, but like Kiku, I have no time to waste. I should be sleeping, lol. FORGIVE ME. ­T___T;; I can't write under pressure.

A/N: That concludes this chapter. I'll try to keep the fighting to a minimum, because I noticed most people just want lovey-dovey scenes, but it adds some dramatic intension to the story with the furthering of Alfred and Arthur, so please forgive me. Look forward to the next chapter!