Eight Mortal Secrets [Hetalia Drabbles] (Completed, to be Edited)

LXXXI. State-Province Tensions

Ontario belongs to hope_forever_18 . Enjoy~
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Michigan leaned against the side of a building, watching the lights of the GM towers shift from blue to red. Quickly, his eyes adverted from the color change, shaking his head slightly as he turned away, beginning down the street. There was so many other things that could catch his eyes, including his citizens of Detroit, which walked around on their phone, streaming by on bikes, and the heavy trickle of cars with the inner city. His headache was barely noticeable here. When he was downtown, back in the original capital, he felt better. He felt calm. He felt at home.

'Til he felt someone shove him in the back.

He turned quickly, his dark hazel eyes flashing dangerously, his hands clenching into fists as he turned on his attacker.

Who he saw made him freeze completely.

A boy a bit younger than he was, with shaggy blonde hair and dark green eyes glaring up at him through thick square specs. He was wearing a red shirt with a white jacket, with blue jeans and brown shoes. Over his chest, he was a simple brown strap.

It was the Canadian province of Ontario.

Michigan blinked, making sure he wasn't hallucinating. "Oliver?"

"Lance." The blonde seemed to hiss the name.

Lance's eyebrows furrowed. "Dude, what's your issue?" His voice was deep, as if warning the Canadian to watch his tone. Michigan wasn't really in the mood for it.

"My issue?" Ontario almost laughed. "What's your issue? What the hell, Michigan? Why in Hell would you vote Republican for Trump."

Michigan flinched at the mention of the election. The throbbing in his head had just started to ebb away, and his state had been so split between the votes that Michigan's official results still hadn't come in yet. It made him nauseous just thinking about it.

"Technically, we aren't Republican yet. Our votes aren't in." Michigan kept his voice as even as possible, although it wavered slightly as a sharp pain pulsed in the back of his head, making him grimace slightly.

"Well, last time I checked, your state was shaded red!" Oliver snapped. A few people walking by glanced up in irritated surprise at the outburst, before going about their business. "Did you even consider what effect it would have on me? If Trump cuts off US trade and goes all isolationist, do you have any idea what affect that'll have on Canada- no, no, do you have any idea what affect that'll have on ME? Our economies are completely dependent on each other, Michigan! If Trump cuts you off, then, then I could go into a recession- no, depression! My people will run out of food, supplies-"

"Stop." Michigan muttered as tears of pure anger began collecting in Ontario's brilliant eyes.

"No, you stop! An entire third of my economy depends on exports to you, Lance, and almost half of my imports from the US are from you alone! I would lose everything!" He cried, and Michigan's eye twitched, his fists clenching and unclenching. "I would have to marry that frog spawn again, Michigan! You know how bad that relationship was, Lance, I CANNOT GO BACK TO IT!"

"Ontario-"

"How would we pay for the canals, or bridge maintenance? Tunnel maintenance? What about the joint degrees, or the Great Lakes-"

"ONTARIO!" Michigan shouted, causing several bystanders to jump. A few seemed to nervously grab their phones, watching the pair skeptically, as if ready to call the cops if a shoot out started in the street. The sheer volume of Michigan's voice in that moment caused Ontario to sputter to a halt. He sniffed, angrily wiping tears off his cheeks.

"This is not about you." Michigan seethed. "This was not the Canadian election or whatever the hell happens with your government. What happens in America doesn't concern you."

"Ha! Just like the pig-headed, daft American you are, to only see two feet in front of you." Ontario growled.

"Right, cause I'm the pig-headed one." Michigan muttered to himself.

"America made himself a world star, Lance. He has his fat head in everyone's business! You can't make treaties and deals with every country around the globe, and shove your influence down everyone's throats, and then elect an incompetent, racist, ignorant fool to be the figurehead of your nation! Your actions and decisions effect everyone around you-"

"I DID NOT VOTE FOR HIM!" Michigan cried, marching towards him and grabbing the collar of Ontario's shirt. Fear momentarily flashed in the province's eyes as he realized he'd gone over Lance's threshold. "My people voted for him, and there's nothing I could do about it, asshole! That's like saying America personally sent the atomic bomb to Hiroshima, or that Germany himself brought Hitler to power. We're the embodiment of the people, moron. I don't decide what my citizens think, it's the other way around. And if you would take your head out of your ass for more than two seconds, you would see that, but no, you only ever care about yourself!" He spat, now nose to nose with the Canadian.

Ontario's lip curled, and he pushed the state away from him. "I only care about myself, eh?" He breathed. "What about when I convinced Arthur to not try and bargain for any of your territory after the War of 1812? Or when you came to me with droves of escaped slaves and asked if I could house them across the border, and I took every one of them? Or when you begged me to help keep the Great Lakes clean and try to remove invasive species? And let's not forget who came to Lansing before even your little brother could get down to the Mitten and took care of you when you were practically dying from the Flint Water Crisis?" Ontario had fresh tears running down his pale cheeks as he let out a short, harsh laugh. "Yeah, I don't care about you at all, Lance. All I do is clean up your damn problems!"

Michigan's chest was still rising and falling in large movements, his thick brows furrowed above his dark eyes as tears stained his tawny brown cheeks. But as those words left Oliver's mouth, he seemed to freeze, his face loosening into a different emotion; dejection. Ontario turned his back to him, not able to look at him without shaking in both anger and hurt. "Well," Lance whispered, "I'm sorry that this partnership has been so one-sided." Ontario clenched his fists, fighting to keep his face clear of emotion, despite the fact that he was facing away from the state. "If that's how you really feel... Then I guess I'll just get out of you hair."

Ontario covered his face, sighing miserably. "Lance, cut it out, I didn't mean to say all that." He began to apologize, but as he turned around, he realized he was standing all alone on 3rd street. Michigan was gone.