[A/N]: Hello, I'm KairiMcEwin! I'm a bit new to the Hetalia fandom, my personality and appearance makes me sort of a love child of America, France, Greece and Japan... Weird, but hey. I usually RP as America or France, though I don't have an account for it.

Please note, this fanfic was inspired by another Blind!America fic, but I wanted to add my own twist. I do like the other fic and I respect it; I tried my best not to copy it. In my family, we actually have a blind cat that can only see lights and shadow. Reading that fic, I thought this up, and I do hope no-one thinks I'm copying. I tried to make my idea different. If I made any mistakes or you have some advice in-character-wise, please review and I'll get to ya!

Another note that this probably won't be updated very fast. I'm working on my SlenderMan fanfic, that's my first priority especially seeing I'm close to the end. Also, I'm a junior in High School, a prep school at that, so I do have other priorities as well. I'd like to ask for critique, because I want to improve as a writer(I'm going to pursue writing as my work); please, any advice or corrections would be most welcome! Don't be scared to review, I'm really a lax and chill kinda person. The fanfic writers are people, we love reviews! Well, enough of my rambling. Go ahead and read!


I wake up to only lights and shadows.

No colours, no discernable features, just the sight of the lights and shadows playing before me.

I've learned to find everything when it's dark, but I still have a nightlight in every room to help me. I have everything organized, and each president helps me keep up with what it looks like outside, they describe the autumn and spring, summer and winter to me. Describe every building I must visit in detail so I don't fall. My glasses are still real, but they serve no purpose; it gives me the excuse I need by 'forgetting them' if I'm in a new place. All of my notes, my books are in Braille. I've learned to write, to pretend to read.

None of the other nations noticed. I've learned to sense distance from sounds, and I recognize voices, scents, heights of their shadows. I won't allow this to keep me from being a great country, to live up to expectations. I'm supposed to be strong, to be everything they see me as.

My name is Alfred Jones. Since World War 2, I've been partially blind. All I can see is light and shadow. No colours, no details, only me and the shadows.


"As such, we cannot allow this global warming to continue," Ludwig was saying, as I pretended to draw. Drawing was the one thing I couldn't do without sight, but no-one found it odd that I couldn't. The voice recorder in my pocket recorded the meeting for me, so that I could study the topics. "On another note, America has been borrowing too much and it is becoming a nuisance."

I looked to the tall, broad shadow of Germany. I always acted a little stupid and bubbly, to avoid awkward questions. Losing my sight had made me more serious, though I knew a sudden personality change would be suspicious. "Hey, it's not that much, dude!"

"You bloody fool, you're billions of dollars in debt!" I turned to 'look' at Arthur, the vague image of him from memories flickering in my mind. My heart beat a little faster; over the years, even though I couldn't see him, I had fallen for him. I supposed I'd always loved him, but every piece my senses picked up of him made my heart pound. I heard him sip his tea. "What on earth do you spend it on?"

I had the urge to snap at him, about the war, Hurricane Sandy, the economy; I didn't. I adopted a sheepish grin. "Well, there's always hero movies made and stuff, like Captain America!" My main reason to borrow was towards medical advancements; cancer, brain surgery... to gain my sight again. But no-one must know.

"We should just stop lending him money," Russia said, the scent of his vodka wafting in the air. Only he could be drinking so early.

Then I felt my head spin; the economy must have shifted again. I couldn't afford another fainting spell, not here. I gripped the table, which must have been noticed. "Ve, America, you don't look well."

"I-I'm fine, just tired." Which was true, I was up last night trying to find solutions for all of these troubles I had been having.

"Serves you right for playing video games all night, twit. Or maybe it's your horrible diet." England's words hurt; I hadn't had the heart to tell him that I'd been... growing feelings for him. He'd have to know about my eyes.

"It's hard work being a hero!" My head was beginning to ache; I'd forgotten to take an asprin. "Beside, I... I..." I grabbed my head to dull the migraine.

"L'Amérique, are you sure you feel well?"

I nodded. "Fine, I'm-just-fine," I managed, praying that I wouldn't faint.

"Leave him be. If he wants to act like a nancy, let him. He's probably looking for attention." Nancy; someone being pathetic. But even as Iggy said this, I caught the faint tone of worry. I guessed it was a habit from raising me.

I stood. "I, uh, need to use the bathroom." I turned and followed the familiar pattern of shadows, ones I could sense at any time of day. My back itched along an old scar, which had been scaring me for some time now. The recently counted election had sprouted rumors of secession among the states. The last time this had happened, the whole south had seceded and began to tear down the skin over my spine and across my back.

I gripped a sink, taking deep breaths. President Obama hadn't been well received by the opposing party, and Texas was passing around a post on facebook about seceding. The itch had become a sting, and I was frightened.

"Alfred." The British voice made me flinch, and I turned to Arthur's shadow. "Was it the talk of money? I understand your economy has been going through some hard times, and-"

"Iggy, I'm fine. I'm just tired, like I said."

There was a soft sigh as the Englishman walking towards me. "You know I still care for you."

I nodded, hoping I was looking in his eyes. "Yeah, I know, dude."

"Alfred, is something wrong with my forehead?"

I looked back to the mirror, where my shadow was reflected. "N-no, I just, uh... sorry..."

"Very well..." Arthur didn't sound too convinced.

"I-I'm gonna head home. I don't think I feel too well, yanno?" I moved to leave, but was pulled into an English hug. I froze, then wrapped my arms around England in return. He felt warm, and the scent of his burnt scones and mint made my heart squeeze. "Thanks, dude..." I flinched suddenly, rubbing my back. This secession talk back home frightened me.

"What is it, your back?"

"There's talk of secession... that's all. Last time, the whole South nearly seceded and I was almost torn apart."

The way Arthur's shadow shifted and the nearly silent gasp told me he was shocked. "Alfred, I'm sorry... Go rest, I'll tell them you were too sick to return to the meeting."

"Thanks, dude. I owe ya one." I gave him a smile, looking a little lower than where my gaze was settled. I turned to leave for sure, following the pattern of shadows to the outside. I breathed in the fresh air, feeling the cold late-November air nip on my face. Every sensation was appreciated.

"Alfred." Barack Obama's voice came from my immediate left. "Leaving early?"

"I'm not feeling too well, I think the economy shifted..." The President guided me to the car; it was just a bit too bright to tell where it was. "Iggy's covering for me."

"You see? He does care for you still." I had told Barack about my feelings and my thoughts; he and his wife were wonderfully kind. Michelle would always try to convince me to confess or to set up a scenario where I could, while her husband gave me full support. Mr. Barack was a good friend. "I must say, my wife plans to set up a-if you'll excuse the expression-a blind date."

I grinned. "Nah, it's cool, dude. It's just that I kinda get nervous about telling him..."

"Of course."

I buckled myself in, listening as Obama got in and started the car. The floor vibrated under my soft-soled shoes, thrummed in my ears and the shadows shifted across my vision. I closed my eyes, relaxing them from straining through the light. "Has it snowed yet?"

"No, the weather has been strangely shifting a lot."

"I've felt it, but I wasn't really sure."

"We're hoping for some snow soon. Maybe the surgery will be perfected so you can see it."

"I'd like that." I smiled at Obama, or at least I thought I did; it was a bit bright.