Chapter 4: Odd
The soft leaves, all shades of reds, oranges, and brown, blew briskly in the breeze, a mid-November, autumn scent hanging in the air. The air, cool and crisp, surrounded everything with an aura of happiness as children jumped merrily into the many colored leaves littering the ground.
This was not so for Arthur Kirkland and Matthew Williams.
Why? Why? Even when Al loses his memory, completely different from me, I'm still mistaken for him!
Quickly glancing at Matthew, Arthur sat down on a bench. "I'm too old for this…" He sighed. "I'm terribly sorry, Matthew." He really was; he never meant to forget the difference between the two twins. Now, not only was Alfred alone in a room full of countries trying to use him, but Matthew was also in a state of slight depression over everything.
"We need to go back, right away!"
Matthew stood up, nodding with determination. "All right."
They started heading back to the meeting building, running as fast as their legs could take them.
"B-But, England… How are we supposed to get Alfred's memory back?"
The other shrugged. "I really have no idea. We can probably just feed the git a burger, and he'll be back to normal."
Finally reaching the site, they entered and burst through the doors of the meeting.
Everyone was quieted, as it seemed they had still been arguing. Every face turned to Arthur.
And what greeted his eyes almost made him gasp in horror. Most of the countries were bruised and bleeding, most likely the result of fighting. Almost every chair was toppled over, and even a window was broken. But something that scared him the most were the pieces of clothing that looked exactly like the ones America had been wearing strewn around the floor.
My God… They haven't… They didn't try…
He was infuriated, to say the least.
"Where is America?"
No one answered. It almost seemed like… they didn't know. And-
Someone was missing.
"Where's Russia?" he whispered.
"Huh? England? What did you say?"
"Where's Russia? Where. The. Hell. Is. Russia."
Matthew's face turned white.
They were insane. They were all insane. That's what they were.
Alfred (at least, that's what the one guy with white hair had called him) sat, curled up and shivering, in a small closet. The second people had started trying to remove his clothes, he knew he had to get out. He went to his pocket to take out the remains of his dead companion, Matthew, but then remembered his pants were gone. As were his shirt and strange brown jacket.
He wanted to cry again. Why? Why was everyone being so mean to him today? And why didn't he remember anything?
The white haired guy had also called him "America." But that was a country, wasn't it?
He heard footsteps.
Oh no… Oh no, oh no, oh no…
This was bad. No, this was really bad. He was cornered in a small space and easily noticeable. There weren't even any coats he could hide behind. And he felt… uncomfortable without his clothes on.
Need a plan. Need a plan. Come on, I need a plan…
Well, get on with it, genius. The door knob's turning.
In a last minute decision, before the door opened and he died, he lay his head against his knees and pretended to be asleep. He'd look too innocent to kill, then, right?
He heard the door open, his heartbeat speeding up.
Suddenly, he felt a large hand on his head. Oh God. Oh God. He was going to die. But he didn't even remember anyone to thank and say he loved them.
And then, without warning, he felt a heavy material being placed on top of him.
Here it was. They were going to strangle him, or suffocate him to death. Right now-
Was death supposed to feel like warmth?
A few seconds ago he'd been shivering, cold from having nothing to wear, but now, his entire body was warm. What was it?
Then, he felt himself being lifted by two strong arms. Was someone… saving him?
He cracked his eye open, immediately noticing the large man holding him. Violet eyes gazed back at him, tenderly.
Feeling a little scared, again, he issued a soft "hello."
The light-haired man smiled. "You are much more adorable when you are quiet like this."
Alfred blinked. "A-Adorable?"
He looked away, embarrassed. Yet, he didn't know why. Wasn't it a compliment? Right?
"T-Thanks… Um, could you put me down?"
"If you wish."
Gently placing Alfred on the floor, Ivan waited for the expected as the younger bolted out through the door as fast as he could.
He would give him a few minutes. Make him feel like he had the upper hand in the situation.
"Russia! There you are!"
Turning around to face the shorter Briton, he smiled. "Ah, England, what is it I can do for you today?"
England glared. "You know, full well, that America is in trouble, you bleeding wanker. Have you seen him?"
"Not at all. I have not seen him since the meeting."
"I see…" Arthur looked down, dejectedly. "If you do find him, please inform me."
Another smile. "I will do just that."
With one last look of disapproval, England twirled around to begin searching the rest of the building, again. Russia, himself, turned to beginning his own search for America.
"Oh, one more thing, Russia, what happened to your jacket?"
That damn England. He just did not know when to give up, did he?
Putting on an air of false benevolence, he turned to face the returned Englishman, currently glaring with more intensity and suspicion than before.
"Welcome back, England," he said cheerfully. "Unfortunately, it seems that you have forgotten your manners. A gentleman? Dare I say, you do not need to question me at every action? My concerns are none of yours."
That ought to quiet him.
England's eyes dropped, trying to not look into the Russian's eyes. "Ah, y-yes, I suppose so. It seems you were just going out for a walk. Carry on, and don't catch a cold."
He giggled. "Why thank you, England." Turning back to the door, he was glad he was Russia, one of the scariest countries on Earth. It came in handy, sometimes.
Who was that guy? He was… really nice? Why did he suddenly start running?
He didn't want to run…. He had wanted to stay there, all warm and snuggly, with the only person who had treated him nicely, so far.
As he looked around, he realised: He had no idea where he was. At all. All he knew was that there were a bunch of brightly colored trees everywhere.
Why? Why on earth did he start running? Was it just because he had started having a weird feeling on his face and chest? Now, he was somewhere he didn't know, wearing that man's jacket over no clothes, with no money, and asking himself a bazillion questions he didn't have answers to.
Such a great day.
His ears perked up at the call of his supposed name. Oh man… Someone was after him…
He squeezed his eyes shut. He may as well just get it over with.
"I-I'm right here."
He heard the soft crunching of leaves. Oh man… It was probably that mean, caterpillar-eyebrows guy, coming to yell and scream at him again.
"Oh Alfred! I was so worried about you!"
Wait… That wasn't Caterpillar-Brows's voice.
Slowly opening his eyes, he came face to face with the tall, light-haired man from before.
His previous tears of fear disappearing, he smiled and bounded over to the man, being careful not to trip on the too-large-for-him coat.
As Ivan neared the trembling American, he felt his ever-present question, beginning to form on the tip of his tongue. That idiot Prussian had reminded him that this was the perfect chance to take over America. One of the things he had always dreamed of- Was Alfred smiling?
"Hello, Mister!" he said, grinning brightly.
Ivan blinked and hesitated for a few moments. This was… unexpected. Usually, anyone would be squirming in fear by now, begging him not to hurt them. But here Alfred was, not the least bit afraid. He had actually approached him.
"Y-Yes. Hello, Amerika."
The younger one paused, as if thinking about something.
"Mm… I'm not sure about too much right now… But ain't America a country?"
" 'But isn't America a country?' "
A look of puzzlement entered the other's face. "Erm, yeah, didn't I just say that?"
Russia waved his hand. "Nyet."
He couldn't help but start laughing. A warm, quiet laugh that made his cheeks flush with joy.
"Nyet. It means 'no' in Russian."
"And that's a country, too, right?" Alfred asked, gazing with curious eyes.
"Then, going back… You said 'nyet' to my question…" He crossed his arms, in thought. "So does that mean America isn't a country?"
"No, no, no, it is. I was correcting your grammar when I repeated your question."
Alfred blinked and cocked his head. "Grammar? What's that?"
Sighing, Ivan gave up. Why was he having such a light-hearted conversation with a child he normally hated?
Go on, Ivan. Just force the child to become one with Mother Russia. He will be grateful, later.
"Hey, Mister?" Alfred said.
Become one with Mother Russia, yes. The rebuilding of one of the greatest unions on Earth.
"Um, I wanted to thank you for the jacket. It was really nice of you…" he looked down, timidly.
Starting with the annexation of Ameri- Nice?
America said he was… nice?
What kind of ridiculous person would state such a ludicrous thing?
The boy standing in front of him. That's who.
Although… It struck some sort of a pang in Ivan's supposedly cold, unfeeling heart.
"Never mind that, Alfred. Come, let us get you back to England. He is most likely throwing down walls, looking for you."
This was the strangest thing of all. His own presence did not scare the American, but the slight mention of the Briton frightened him immensely.
"D-Do you mean, th-th-the guy with the g-giant eyebrows?"
"Da. However, if it makes you feel better, I shall accompany you."
The fear melted from his expression, replaced with relief. "Really? Thank you." He latched his arms around the man in a tight hug of gratitude.
One Ivan quickly pushed off. "Yes, yes. Now, come along, before things get too out of hand." Some passers-by were already staring at the two of them with weird looks.
He had to say: Walking with a personification of America with amnesia was similar to walking with a five-year-old who does not cease asking questions.
At every sign, Alfred had stopped to ask what language it was in and what it said.
At every sign, Ivan had stopped to say "Italian" and he did not know.
At every building, Alfred had stopped to ask what the place was and what it was selling.
At every building, Ivan had stopped to say "A restaurant" and he did not know.
At every corner, Alfred had stopped to ask what country they were in and where they were exactly.
At every corner, Ivan had stopped to say "Italy" and he did not know.
"Mister? Are you mad at me?"
"Why would you ask that?"
"I… I just thought you were mad're something…"
"I see… Well, I am not. Though, my name is Ivan."
"Oh… All right, then, Mister Ivan."
"You do not need… Never mind." That was enough, for now. Alfred didn't need to re-learn twenty things at once.
Riiing. Riiing. Riiing.
Ringing… Wait… It couldn't be… Alfred's eyes darted over to Ivan's hand, taking out a miniature version of the item from that one morning.
"Privyet? Ah, England. How nice to hear from you. Oh? Forgetting manners, again, are we? Very well, I see-"
Ivan froze, turning back to Alfred and covering the phone. "What? Your brother is here?"
"Matthew! You fixed him!"
Ivan watched as Alfred literally began jumping with jubilee.
"Fixed him? Alfred, where is your brother?"
"Right there! Gosh! Mister Ivan! I can't believe it! Thank you! Thank you so much!"
Very strange… He looked around, but it seemed as if the boy was pointing to his cell phone. Which he could now hear incessant yelling, loud enough to break the sound barrier of his fingers. Keeping an eye of Alfred, he resumed the conversation.
"Yes. Yes, I found him. I am bringing him back, right now. Oh England, please do not use obscenities. It is unsightly. Thank you, and good bye~"
He shut the phone and returned to Alfred. "Now, what is it you are pointing to?"
Barely able to contain his joy, Alfred put his finger directly onto the object.
"Nonono! This is Matthew, right? You fixed him for me? I guess you couldn't put him back in his original body, though, 'cause he was all broken and stuff…"
Ivan raised an eyebrow. "And why, may I ask, is its name Matthew?"
Alfred grinned. "Well, it all started a this one morning. I woke up, after a few days, I think, of not remembering anything, and then this weird thing in my house started ringing, and then it was talking to me! It said its name was Matthew."
Now, it somewhat makes sense. Matvey must have called him. I suppose he does not remember what a phone is, either.
"Mister Ivan? Can I have him? Please? Please?"
"Er… I do not believe this is Matthew. I fixed Matthew, but he is not here, at the moment. This is his brother… Peter." Noticing Alfred was attempting to take the phone, anyway, he retracted his hand. "Ah, sorry, Alfred. Peter is asleep, right now."
"Ohhh." Alfred nodded. "I understand," he whispered, putting a finger in front of his lips to symbolise he was going to be quiet.
He smiled. "We are almost there, so hurry up."
"All right, all right."
The rest of the way there was peaceful. The autumn breeze carrying on, propelling the leaves into a rainbow of warm colors and the steady sound of Alfred trotting beside him made for a serene moment comparable to a scene in a movie.
Twelve minutes later, the roaring of England disrupted everything.
"Where were you? Where was he? Why the bloody hell is he wearing your coat? Do you know how much time has gone by since I called you? Did you do anything to him?"
Even though, they had asked him to wait outside, so as not to hear their conversation, Alfred could hear it perfectly clear. And he was severely angry. Puffing out his cheeks, he crossed his arms and kicked his legs. Ohhh, that Caterpillar-Brows was gonna get it.
He jumped off the bench and slammed open the doors in front of him.
The few people left in the room looked at him, and it wasn't many, considering that most of the others had probably already gone home.
"America-san, please return outside. You should not be hearing this."
"Look, I already know that America is a country. I'm not that stupid," Alfred said, rolling his eyes.
"B-But America-san, please listen-"
"Ame- Alfred, listen to me."
He turned to Caterpillar-Brows who had, apparently, decided to lower his voice, now.
"I know that you do not remember anything, and I apologise for before, but what did Ru- Ivan do to you?"
What did he do to him?
As Arthur watched Alfred think about the previous events, he knew he had Russia cornered. The taller man denied doing anything to the helpless American, save for offering his coat. Of course, he didn't believe him.
"It's quite all right, Alfred. You can tell us how he hurt you."
That was most likely the point where he snapped.
"Hurt me? You're the only one who ever hurt me in any way, Caterpillar-Brows! You and Invisible Man, over there."
Alfred pushed the other man out of the way to stand in front of Ivan. "You're not going to hurt him like you did to me. Mister Ivan is my friend and I'm going to protect him." He stuck out his arms, as if shielding him.
He felt his eyes widen. Friend? Ivan looked down at Alfred. He had called him his… friend. No one ever did that before.
Feeling Ivan's gaze on him, Alfred turned his head and grinned. "Don't you worry, Mister Ivan. I've got this covered."
Almost feeling his voice disappear, Ivan managed to say, "I have this covered."
Alfred snapped his fingers. "Oh yeah, more of that 'grammar' stuff, right?"
Ivan nodded, stiffly.
Glaring, Arthur took a step towards Alfred. "Now, Alfred, come off it. Stop being a bother, and allow us to finish our discussion."
Alfred glared back. "No."
"Alfred, you're being rude."
"Alfred, go to your room!" Arthur stopped, abruptly. What… did he just say? Seeing the other's look of disgust, he quickly shook his head. "N-No, I didn't mean that-"
"Shut up. You're not my father."
The boy turned his head to the black haired man, standing next to him, hands placed politely at his sides.
"Who are you?" he snapped.
"Ah, um, m-my name is Kiku, and I am one of your friends."
"Really? Is this true?" He turned his head to Ivan to gain his approval, who, in turn, nodded again.
"Da. It is true. Kiku, is it possible for him to stay at your house for a few days?"
"Wait, what? I want to stay here! You can't make me go! Nuh-uh! No way!"
"Alfred, please just go."
After a few minutes, Alfred finally huffed out in frustration. "Fine."
"Come on, Alfred-san. We have to get to the airport."
Japan looked back at the room, worriedly. Ivan looked bewildered. Arthur looked like he was holding back tears. And everyone else looked utterly baffled. No one could speak, for they did not know, at all, what to say.
He bit his lip in nervousness. "Alfred-san? Would you like to get a, um, hamburger before we leave?"
Alfred turned his head and blinked at Kiku. "A hamburger? What's that?"
"Little girl, too short and skinny. Never ever eats her dinny."
"Ugly girl, her hair's a mess. Never ever cleans her dress."
"I do too clean my dress!" She stomped her foot on the ground.
Rigel pushed her to the ground, causing dirt to stick to the bottom of her clothes. "Now you don't."
She felt tears well in her eyes, but she wouldn't let them go. She would never let them go, again. She hated Rigel. And she wasn't going to let him feel any satisfaction from her crying.
Turning around, she walked away, her shoulders stiff, to show her pride.
Walked all the way to Uncle Sirius.
"Hello, child. What seems to be the matter?" The young man crossed over to her, his various dogs watching, as if something was going to attack him.
"Now, now. Would you care for some tea?"
"Na, thank you very much, Uncle Sirius."
"Not a problem," he said, fetching the kettle from the stove.
"Uncle Sirius?" she asked, watching him pour the tea into two pristine cups of fine china.
"When is Mommy coming back?"
"Not for a while."
"Can I move in with you?"
He chuckled. "I'm afraid not." Handing her a saucer, he placed the teacup on top of it. "What brings this up?"
"T-There's people being mean to me…"
"And they keep calling me names. And telling me I'm useless."
He smiled. "Is it Rigel?"
"N-No…" After being subjected to his stare for a minute she looked down. "Yes."
Sighing, he looked to a corner of the room. "Not much I can help you with there. I could threaten him, but as soon as I walk away, he'll be at it, again. I never did much like that boy. Always going on about himself." He looked back to return himself to the topic on hand. "Anyway, you're not useless. Far from it, actually."
She stayed quiet, instead choosing to stare at his shirt.
Uncle Sirius was a young man, looking about 29 years old. His hair was smooth, long, dark, and pulled together into a ponytail that often resided on his shoulders. He usually wore a grey vest with a diamond pattern throughout. His pants matched, and then he wore a white dress shirt under the vest. Again, he was young, but one of the wisest out of all of them.
"I heard you recently granted your first wish."
She sat up straight and nodded rapidly. "Yes, yes, yes. His name is Alfred F. Jones. He's a very nice boy. And I think he's been around almost as long as I have."
"His wish seemed really small, I think. Oh, and he's a personification! Like us!"
"Mhmm." He nodded. Yes, yes. A personification. Good for her! He was happy- A personification?
"You granted a personification's wish?"
She smiled. "Uh-huh!"
Don't panic… Don't panic… It won't cause a global dilemma or anything…
He forced a smile. "My, that's wonderful! Yet, you know, many good wishing stars, after they grant their first wish, check up on their 'customers' to make sure everything is okay, seeing as how they have so much stored energy from not using it until then that they use most of it on the person to grant the wish."
She stood up. "Na, I'm one of those good wishing stars! So I'm gonna do that!"
"Wonderful, wonderful." After giving her a tight hug, he watched her run out of the house. He went to sit back down and lifted the cup to his mouth.
"Oh dear. The tea's gone cold."
The girl, on the other hand, looked out into deep space, finally locating Earth. All right. She was… going to meet Alfred F. Jones. She couldn't help but tremble with excitement.
All right where to start…?
Ricardo: Someone got their first boyfriend~ ;D
Arielle: Someone is about to get stabbed 37 times in the chest~ :D
Ricardo: Someone is giving the disclaimer~ :D Arielle doesn't own Hetalia.
Arielle: Oh yeah! Guess who's gonna be driving soon~!
Ricardo: God help us all.
Arielle: *glares* Anyway, so here's information on "Sirius, the Dog Star."
http : / earthsky . org / brightest-stars / sirius-the-brightest-star
Just take out the spaces. Sorry, I've been feeling really sick, lately… My doctor said I have at least two different infections, and my therapist said I might be moving into depression. *rolls eyes* Always something wrong, ain't there? I've missed at least five giant tests OTL
So here's a chapter that's at least twice as long as the last…
Oh, and also, if I haven't replied to anything lately, it's because I've been really busy… I usually do comment on peoples' reviews and messages people send me…
Erm, anything else? Yes, I know it's out of character. But would you be the same exact person if you lost your memory? HM?
Er… Well, most everything seems to be in order. If I think of anything else, I'll put it later.
Thank you for reading, and if you notice any mistakes, whatsoever, please tell me ;u; Also, if you have any ideas, that's also useful.
GOSH DARN IT. P.S. I feel so horrible for doing this to poor Iggy OTL BUT HE IS REDEEMED. … SOMETIME WITHIN THE NEXT FEW CHAPTERS.
P.S.S. I made a Facebook account for this fanfiction account (I FEEL LIKE A NERD.) But mi hermano suggested that I should get one, so that I don't always end up leaving giant notes like these explaining everything. I dunno… It'll just have updates on what's goin' on. I'll put a link on my profile or something…
Happy Chanukah to those who celebrate it! ;u;