Title: Possibility
Author: Megumi Kinomiya (ie, me)
Characters: USA & Japan (Alfred and Kiku)
Rating: K +?
Warnings: Emos (?), Some OOC?
Summary: Alfred had no choice but to attack Kiku in order to stop the useless slaughter of people. Kiku saw before him a small chance of return to be friends after that ... however ...
Notes: Hetalia
nor its characters belong to me, but Hidekaz Himaruya. I only use
to write this sad attempt at fanfic.
Well, I asked politely that this fic was the first to climb to livejournal, but I still think an Epic fail ... anyway, here I am fulfilling the promise. Arigatou to those who take the trouble to read it ... I very much regret not make this fic so much better * bow *
He was lying on the ground, coughing blood, clutching his katana
strongly with tears of pain coming from his eyes, falling into the arid land
, giving some of his own pain.
surroundings were completely destroyed. He crawled on the floor with the little strength he still
. He used his precious katana as a slight push.
ached inside. Blood mixed with tears still staining the ground.
looked up, to focus only dimly the face of the person who had caused all this
.
could not see well. He reached as if to touch it with your fingers
although they were still a considerable
distance from each other. Unconsciously knew the other was watching
no trace of pity in his face. But still ... still had some hopes
. Perhaps there was still a possibility, small, but it was a possibility
anyway, that all that nothing more than a terrible nightmare
that might awaken. There was a small possibility that
that were not true.
But still could not change the fact that there
was himself, lying on the floor with the wounded body with destroying his skin sores
with little energy, spitting blood, breathing shallowly
, trying in vain to shout from the rooftops that
wanted to stop that, to surrender, could no longer continue ... Despite
been him who caused all this ... despite being himself who first wounds caused
the other probably still possessed.
Thanks to him, had achieved many things.
had opened a little rest, had learned many things, and even some things
had taken him to their own culture. They were great friends in the past
, almost inseparable, but nevertheless ... all that was in the past.
All the dreams and hopes of the past had ended
crumbling and burning in that huge ordeal called war.
now definitely things between the two would no longer be the same from that moment
. If he wanted, his opponent could kill him at that moment,
after all, and he had no strength to continue this futile battle
. All I wanted now was nothing more than a pile of ashes
the wind blew, things he would never from that
conseguiríaa then ...
... because all he wanted, all his hopes and dreams
all, the friendship that had seemed unbreakable, all now
lost. And he was solely responsible for all that.
had departed from him, and now the damage he had caused himself back.
Since then, and it was nothing.
could hear the sound of a gun. His opponent was about to give
the final blow. He simply closed his eyes waiting for the
impact came, and will help to calm all that suffering. How well
feel the power being taken prisoner in the clutches of death. Since I could not feel more pain
anymore ... and it would not anymore.
was no longer masters of their own destiny,
now someone else was in charge of it. But the shot never came. The final point I would
silence his wounded soul crying out for something that will calm down
all the pain he suffered when he felt tears slowly, was never
final chapter of the personal diary of his life. On the contrary, could feel the thud
gun from hitting the ground after falling from the hands of his adversary
.
... There was still a possibility yet, but better
for him not knowing which.
did not know that his opponent was watching horrified.
watched with horror the product of his own cruelty.
watched his hands stained with blood ... blood had been shed only at the whim of
both. But what I saw was even more horrible. I could see people ...
entire families, people who had no connection with that dispute, people
not his fault that his government was so reckless and do carry the weight
the war on his shoulders for all eternity ... all
weeping, writhing on the floor for the pain I had caused ... children,
women, the elderly ... all scattered in a field of death,
wondering what fate had made them such a move.
He was a thief of blood, he was a thief of lives.
Now llevaríaa slopes all the blame on his back, like
being harshly criticized by the other countries, just because your boss fucking
was pressured to make such an atrocity. He had no choice but to accept
voice quavering, but firm, such an order, even though he knew perfectly
the consequences of such an act ... I knew that after that
would not see Japan in the same way as before ...
So many beautiful memories that had arisen between them just now
wind from oblivion and regret could lead to who knew where ...
... Now he had to leave for good on the side ... to spite
I really do not want to do ...
___________________________________________________________________________
noted with deep sadness that
who was lying on the ground, waiting to give him the final blow that would end for
always with that, but could not kill him. Nevertheless, the relationship that both
had built in the past prevented it from continuing with that.
Her eyes watered with tears, and dropped on the floor, knees, drowning in their own sobs
... because all that will hurt more than wounds during the war
& hellip ;
reached out, touching the bloodied face of Japan,
who kept his eyes tightly shut. I wanted to apologize, beg
wanted all that remain in the past. That once the
war ended, he would go next to it and try to help you get ahead ... But it could
. The rest of the allies, and his own boss will not allow it.
His own grief was slowly killing him in silence ...
could not do anything but silent, and let her cry was drowned in his own throat ...
could no longer continue in that mode
. With great effort he stood up and left without looking back, his eyes downcast
, fists clenched, and feeling a great weight on the chest. No longer could
call himself a hero anymore. He was a murderer.
He was a criminal who deserved the death ... The image of all those people suffering
was still imprinted in her mind ... And from that moment on, would bear the
image for the rest of
life ...
Japan, feeling that his opponent was leaving, leaving
so helpless ... He stood aided by his own katana,
feeling his own blood still stained the floor, making an oath ...
One day, after recovering from those wounds , would do everything possible
to be someone strong, someone whose power can only be compared with that of
United States ... and was not going to allow himself to lose to anyone ma
s.
He would rise again, and wait patiently for the day when his opponent
again smiled as he did in the past
... With the last strength he had left, he directed ; one last look at
Alfred F. Jones, who ended up lost in the crowd celebrating the end of the war
, and felt a part of himself went with him ...
Finalmente, cayó, pero no tocó el suelo. Una gran cantidad
de manos se extendieron para evitar que lo hiciera. Manos de mucha gente que lo
había visto derrumbarse ante el enemigo… Manos de personas que querían
ayudarlo, y sacarlo de la situación en la que se encontraba… Millones de
personas que le brindaron su apoyo y su solidaridad… y lo ayudaron a levantarse
de nuevo, y a salir adelante, hasta el día que, finalmente, con la voz
temblorosa, pero la mirada firme y decidida, pudo ver nuevamente al rostro de
la persona that had caused so much pain in life, and say ...
- Okaerinasai, America-san ...
... Because if well, there was no possibility to return
be the same friends as before ... there was still a very small ... but he should not know what ...
... And that was it. I'm planning to write a sequel, but more from the perspective of Alfred. Again, arigatou for reading this fic * bow *
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