Moi moi! Jo-chan here! I'm trying out my... second Hetalia fanfic! The first ended in failure due to lack of brain-power and got deleted after a few-month hiatus, but I'm determined to try again!

Etto, this started when my friend requested for USUK. But I just can't write shounen-sai or yaoi, so decided to genderbend one of them. (Like I did to Katekyo Hitman Reborn) In the end, I ended up with USfem!UK.

Enough with the talk; let's get the story started!

I don't own Axis Powers: Hetalia. All characters belong to Himaruya Hidekaz-sensei.


Guide:

sample text- normal narration

sample text- dreams/thoughts/flashbacks

sample text- used for emphasis

"sample text" -speech


It had been raining hard that day when Alfred had led his troops out to fight. It was their final battle; a battle for their freedom. No one can stop them from achieving their goal; not even the Gods above could put a halt to their advance.

The rain was a good sign for a day such as this; it helped to cool the hot blood running in their veins as they charged through the terrain, muddy water splashing from their puddles. With a musket in each of the soldiers' hands, they only have one goal in mind.

They were going to achieve their independence.

All these years of fighting were worth it. They, mere people of the land led by the man who was the living representation of their nation, fought against their rulers, people from another land who ruled over them. The years of colonization had taken its toll on these men who were willing to risk their lives.

They sought to be free.

The enemy was soon in sight. Yet the men froze in their tracks, murmuring amongst themselves.

"What was going on here?" The commander, the man who was their nation, spoke as he approached from behind.

The men turned, a look of uncertainty flashing across their eyes.

"S-Sir… This…" One soldier stuttered, trying to find the words to describe the situation.

"They're making a fool out of us, Commander!" Another interrupted; his brow knitting together to form a look of irritation.

"What do you mean?" Alfred F. Jones narrowed his eyes as he spoke.

"Look for yourself, Sir," The irritated soldier stood aside, the rest following suit as they made a clear path.

In front of them, in a distance, stood a lone girl. She was dressed for battle, wearing a red military coat with white trousers; and knee-high black boots that were specially made to keep the water from entering them. Her long, blonde hair, usually tied in two pigtails, was now kept in a tight bun at the back of her head. Her eyes were closed, her head hung low as she held her musket in both ends as if it were a walking stick, the weapon touching the ground upon which she stood.

"Follow me." The commander spoke, walking slowly towards the girl.

"But Sir…"

"Just do as I say. Don't let your guard down."

The men followed in silence, eyeing the girl warily as they approached closer and closer. Soon, they were about a mere five meters away from the woman. She opened her eyes slowly as she lifted her head, her green eyes burning with an unspeakable emotion that was so strong, it could instill fear in a man twice her size.

"England. If it isn't a surprise to see you out here," Alfred scoffed as he felt her glare on him. "Has the Great Queen of Britain finally gone senile enough to decide to send a mere female to the battlefield?"

He had expected her to charge at him, spouting all her insults and lectures at him for his lack of respect for his ruler, but all she did was to narrow her eyes, her increasingly-fierce glare showing her irritation and anger. Undaunted, Alfred continued to speak.

"If those superiors of yours think that sending you to stop me would make a difference; they're wrong. Just because you took care of me doesn't change anything. I'm not a kid anymore; nor am I your little brother. I can take care of myself now."

"What do you think you're doing, America?" Alice Kirkland finally spoke, her arms now by her side with her musket in her right hand. A scowl was plastered on her face, her piercing glare focused straight at him; only him and not the other soldiers backing him up. "Do you even know the consequences of this foolish act?"

"I do, England," He replied, tightening his grip on his weapon as he stood, facing the woman who once had been a motherly figure to him. "I will get my freedom. I'll be independent. I'll finally be free of you and…"

"What nonsense are you spouting, America?" She interrupted, raising her voice into from a firm tone to a furious shout. "Stop this imprudent act and come home with me right this instant!"

"You're the one spouting nonsense, England. I'm going to get my independence. I'm going to be a great country. Greater than you, even."

"So, you want to be a great country, do you now?" Alice tightened her grip on her musket, her head hung low so that on one could see the expression she now had on her face.

"Yes. I do."

"So you want to become a great country… even if it means betraying the people who care about you the most?"

Alfred bit his lip. He could tell she was at the verge of tears. He could tell how badly he was hurting her. But he was so close to getting what he wanted. The independence that he had sought for was only but just a few steps away… He could practically taste its sweetness on his lips, flowing down to moisten his parched throat.

Alfred hardened his heart.

"If I have to, then so be it." The words came out cold, as if he was hearing them from a stranger's lips rather than his own. "It's nothing but a small, insignificant sacrifice used to achieve a bigger goal."

"Then I won't allow it!"

Alice ran straight at him, charging through the rain. She raised her musket, ready to strike him. Fortunately, his reflexes were fast enough for him to block the hit with his own musket. However, the sheer force of the attack was too hard for him to block it for long.

The next thing he knew, his musket was sent flying into the air, Alice's pointing straight at him. The woman was panting, hard, as the soldiers behind him raised their weapons, aiming at her if she was to open fire at him.

"You fool… You don't have the strength to stand on your own!"

The next thing he knew, she had lowered her musket, her eyes gazing straight into his.

"You… bloody fool. I can't do it." Alice collapsed onto the ground, burying her face in her hands.

"Why…? Why, damn it…" She sobbed, her small frame trembling as she tried her best to contain her tears.

Alfred stood in front of her, speechless. He remembered how she had used to hold his hand, smiling brightly as him as they returned to place that they used to call home. She used to be so big… so tall. Yet now…

Alice let out a choked sob, whispering between breaths so that only he could hear what she was to say to him.

"Do you really hate me that much… Al?"

Alfred's eyes shot open, only to find himself sitting on his own bed, panting hard as sweat ran down the sides of his face. Looking around him, it looks like he was in his room.

It had all been a dream... no, a terrible nightmare.

But... Why was he thinking of that only now? It hadn't bothered him much over the past hundreds of years. Why was it bothering him now?

Alfred lay back on the bed, covering his eyes with the back of one hand.

Alice... Alfred wondered how she was doing right now. Since that time, things between them have been nothing but bitter. If they weren't arguing, they would technically be ignoring each other.

Years of fighting wars together never helped to improve the situation, either. They were merely following the orders of their superiors, only cooperating to take down a common enemy. Even outside of war meetings, she only spoke to him regarding matters that were war-related and nothing else.

Even at modern-day meetings, Alice still refused to speak to him. Sure, she was keeping matters at a professional level, but such things were simply excuses, knowing how long they've been around.

Alice has never once attended his birthday party. There were times when he personally sent her an invitation, or had asked fellow nations like Kiku or Francis (who was probably the wrong person to ask, but he had to try) to convince her to come. He even made sure that every single thing for the party was perfect and in tip-top shape, hoping to impress her.

Yet never once did she turn up.

Does she really hate him that much for what he had done?

A sudden thought struck his head as he sat up abruptly, swiping his phone from the top of his bedside table and dialing a number from memory with record speed. However, before he could press the call button, he froze for a moment. What was he thinking? This might be too rash. Maybe he should reconsider this...

No, he had decided. I have made up my mind.

Pressing the call button, he pressed the device next to his ear, waiting for the person at the other end to receive the call.

"Mr. Jones?" The tired voice of his secretary came over from the other end of the line. "It's only two in the morning..."

"Get me on the next flight to London."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I'll leave the preparations to you." Alfred hung up as he stood up, running a hand through his hair.

He was determined to make things right again.

He had to.


So... how was it?

I hoped you enjoyed this; there's definitely more coming up, so please review! (and put this on your story alert)

See ya all next time! Jo-chan signing out!