America tapped his foot impatiently. Japan and South Korea were supposed to meet him at his house over thirty minutes ago. They had planned a day of fun and video games weeks in advance. It all kind of worked out because they were over here early for that UN meeting in a month. Anyway, this meetup was the only thing America had going for him on that specific day and man, was he bored. After what felt like an hour of waiting, Japan rang the doorbell, carrying South Korea over her shoulder. America smiled and let the two in, looking at South Korea with amusement. The poor Korean country looked tired and flustered at the same time.
"Hey Japan," America said, deciding to ignore the fact they were late, it was probably just a flight problem. He looked at South Korea, snorted because of how ridiculously flustered he looked and added, "Hi, South Korea."
"こんにちは (Hi), America!" Japan hugged America. "Sorry we were late, our flight got delayed because North Korea decided he'd stay behind that minute." With that, she casually dropped the Korean country on the floor. He let out a loud yelp and jumped to his feet, yelling, "What did you do that for?!" He couldn't stay mad for long, however, because Japan was already heading towards the living room so that they all could commence the gaming session. America couldn't help but laugh at South Korea's anger and followed Japan. After cooling down a bit, South Korea joined them.
After playing a variety of games on a variety of consoles, Japan got bored and left the room. After a few minutes, she came back inside with a movie she had brought. The movie Japan had brought was some sort of romance movie about some random kid on Mars whose name America didn't know. The reason America didn't know was because he dozed off within the first few minutes of the movie. When America finally woke up, it was near the end of the movie. America, who was startled when he woke up, looked around to find Japan on the edge of her seat, watching the movie intently. America could tell that she would probably use this movie as inspiration for more of her cringy fanfics. South Korea, meanwhile, wasn't even looking at the screen. He was, instead, looking at Japan's face with a small smile. America smirked and noted to himself that he should ask Southie about this crush of his later.
When the movie was finally over, Japan was internally squealing. America was used to this by now, though. Japan fangirled at every romance she even slightly shipped, even movie characters who had no relation to her whatsoever. America had heard that she shipped countries too and couldn't help wondering who Japan shipped him with. Either way, Japan, with a bright smile, dragged South Korea to the door. America followed them. They said their goodbyes and parted ways, with Japan talking nonstop to South Korea about all of the shipping inspiration the movie gave her. America waved them goodbye and closed his front door while the other countries walked to their rental car and drove away.
Now, America was alone with his thoughts. He looked at the clock. It was 11:36. America walking into the kitchen, chugged a cup of water and filled up the cup with water again. The tired country went upstairs to his room with the cup and found what he was looking for, it was a flower. A special flower, one that his mom gave him a long time ago.
~~-~~
It was 1783.
America had just defeated his father in the Revolutionary war. America knew his father just wanted the best for him, but he wanted to be in charge of himself and his people, he wanted to be free- something his father never let him be out of fear he would get hurt. France, America's adoptive mother, looked at him with pride and love. America smiled at France and turned to the horizon, where Britain's ship was bobbing away in defeat. America's pride and sense of accomplishment faded away as he started to think about what might happen to him now that he's independent. With uncertainty pricking at his mind, he looked at his mom and asked, "Mom? What if I'm not able to govern myself? What if I'm not strong enough?"
France turned to the small country and smiled, "Mon fils (My son), you just defeated your père (father), you are strong enough." America still looked uncertain so his mother sighed and grabbed something from one of her senior officers- it was a small, purple flower in a pot, "Here, mon fils. This is an iris, a flower I hold dear. Think of your nation as this flower. You must water it, give it sunlight, and if you do, it will grow and prosper. If you can correctly take care of this flower, you can govern and lead a nation. Trust me."
France smiled at her son and kissed him on the forehead. He smiled back and said, "Thanks, mom. I promise that I'll take care of this flower forever."
~~-~~
America smiled at the memory. Of course, this iris wasn't the same iris that France gave him all those years ago, but America made sure that he always got a new iris when the old one died, as some sort of homage to the memory. When America was done watering the iris, he turned off the lights, put his sunglasses on the nightstand, and went to bed.
--~--
America heard a loud "Boom" and opened his eyes. He smelled a faint, metallic smell and... another scent that kind of smelled like rotten eggs. He was no longer in his room but in some sort of underground strategy room. His father was before him, wearing a military uniform reminiscent of World War I. Britain was talking determinedly about trenches, casualties, and land gains. America was confused, why was he here? Another loud boom sounded and the ceiling above shook. It looked like the ceiling was gonna fall on top of them. America's mind raced, 'Why am I here? It's 2019, not 1917, dammit!' His thoughts were disrupted by Britain yelling at him, "Son, pay attention! You need to focus on the plan, not your thoughts! It's our lives on the line here!" America looked at Britain, a confused look on his face. "Bloody 'ell," Britain mumbled to himself. Britain was going to explain the plan again to America when a French officer ran in. "Sirs, the higher-ups have ordered a retreat, German forces are breaking into our trenches. As a precaution, we need to take you two out of here!" Britain frowned, grabbed his son's arm, and started running after the french soldier, dragging his son along with him. They raced towards a military-owned transportation car, but before they got inside America turned to the battlefield, only to see a sight he wished he would never see again.
What looked like hundreds, maybe thousands, of bodies were scattered across the stretch of land known as No Man's Land. America could see some German soldiers running across the stretch of land, still alive and breathing; but, most of the people out on that terrifying stretch of land were dead, long forgotten fragments of times probably long gone. America's eyes widened when he realized he could recognize some of them as American troops. He could even name some of them. America felt tears on his cheeks as he named everyone he could recognize inside his head- Kevin, Lance, so many people... He saw people he could remember laughing with, people he remembered eating with, and people he considered friends crumpled on the mud, dead. As America was being shoved into the car, he put his hands on his head, wishing he could drown away the emotions, drown away these stupid memories like he had been doing for so long-
--~--
America woke up in a cold sweat. He was gasping for air, struggling to breathe. The American had long forgotten those days, and for good reason. He closed his eyes and curled into a ball and repeatedly whispered to himself, "I'm sorry I couldn't save you all, I'm sorry I couldn't save you all," America felt tears flowing down his cheeks and started to say sorry to every person he recognized from the dream. No, from the memory. After a while, America somehow cried himself back to sleep.
When America woke up, he felt an overwhelming sadness; but this time, he didn't cry. This time, America stood up and grabbed his glasses; however, he didn't put them on. Instead, he went into his bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes, that were scarred from pearl (something America is very self-conscious of), were red and puffy. It was obvious that he had been crying. America sighed, put his sunglasses on, and was about to go downstairs for breakfast until he noticed something on his hand.
On his hand, there was a small, black crack.
------
Hello again.
I edited this way too much hhhhhh
So ye.
I shouldn't be putting this much effort into editing but I'm a paranoid bean and I need help.
Anywho, Meri is in some deep trouble now.
And no, Rus will not show up in the next chapter, sorry my dudes. We'll get 'em next time.
Tschüss!
-Selva