Leaving the Union (Hetalia fanfiction)

Introduction (Part Two of Five)

Cillian O'Neill Kirkland; The Troubles

Date: Around 2:40 pm on July 21, 1972

     Cillian O'Neill Kirkland, the personification of Northern Ireland also known as Ulster, was sitting and talking with his three younger brothers, in Alistair's decent sized home near his capital Edinburgh. They were drinking tea talking about all that had happened in the past few years. Saoirse had isolated herself, and didn't even try to contact them, which Cillian found pleasant, but the fact that she didn't show up to any family holidays anymore, was extremely concerning to Alistair and Dylan. Cillian only said he was slightly worried about her, but he was lying whenever he said it. In all honesty, he hated her, like all the people in his nation.

     He loathed her, because her people was causing his people more pain and suffering everyday, and this year had been the worst yet. Today, though, seemed no different from the last few days, but when the full extent of the pain hit, it made it nearly impossible to breath. He instantly curled up into a ball, his hands over his heart, his capitol, the pain was nearly unbearable.

     His brothers had swarmed around him, trying to figure out what he needed them to do to help. He wanted to tell them, but tears had started to form in his eyes. He was stuck in mass pain for around two minutes, and then he finally was able to relax his muscles.

     "How many bombs?" Dylan asked, looking at Cillian's blood covered hands with concern coating his green eyes.

     "One, but I wouldn't doubt that there's more-" Cillian replied, barely getting the last word out before pain hit him again, but this time much stronger than before.

    'Two? At the same time? Why do you do this to me, Saoirse?' Cillian thought, trying to hold back the tears that were forming again.

     Once he calmed down again, he found Arthur had brought a handkerchief.

     "Thanks," Cillian muttered taking it, and putting it over his heart, which was still bleeding profusely.

     It was like that for another hour and fifteen minutes, and after the last bomb exploded at 4:00pm, they heard the flap of the mailslot on the door open and before squeakily swinging back and forth to where it originally was resting.

     Dylan stood up. Cillian saw him walk towards the door, and pick up the letter nonchalantly. Dylan then gasped, seeing who the letter was from, and it scared Cillian to the point where he could feel his heart sink.

     Arthur and Alistair stood up looking at their brother, who opened the letter, and read it to himself. Dylan had a look of pure happiness on his face as he looked at his three brothers.

     "It's from Saoirse!" Dylan said, happy that she had stopped isolating herself.

     'Saoirse... Dang it.' Cillian thought, tuning his younger brother out so he could be with his thoughts for a moment. 'What's she playing at?'

     'I don't know, but I just know she will pay. If not physically, then she'll pay mentally and emotionally. She'll pay knowing that I don't trust her anymore. It hurts her more than it hurts me, and she knows that I know her weakness.'

     Cillian felt a small smirk creep into his otherwise distressed looking face, making him look vaguely similar to a villian in one of Alfred's movies.

     'You're gonna need all of the luck you can get, Sis. Mark my words.'

I hope you enjoyed reading, and don't forget to comment on what I can fix and improve on!

*~*Agent A.J. Signing out!*~*

(I meant to publish this yesterday, but I had a softball scrimmage, and was tired afterwards, so I ended forgetting to publish this. I'll put up part 3 later today. Sorry!)