50 States of Mind ~ Hetalia Fanfic

Chapter 22 Pt. 2 The End is Here

"Fight me."

The icy sting of rain rattled throughout her open wounds. New York watched the enemy with wide, unassuming eyes. Never before had she considered what it meant to be a state before now. In the years before she had become a part of the United States, before the Europeans crossed the treacherous ocean and planted their feet upon the land of a New World... She had never questioned what it meant to be a part of something. She had always been something, a single piece in a greater whole. It was in this moment, staring down a battered set of brothers and a band of rejected second players, she realized she had fought herself once before.

And she could do it again.

She would never let herself be torn apart again.

The gun that had been in her hand and had defended her was carelessly thrown to the side. It was out of bullets. It was as useless as self-doubt. The second players of a united Italy stated back at her. Their expressions were a mirror of her own. Faces aged by stress, wolffish grins ready to tear a chunk out of the opposition until there was only one left standing. New York chuckled to herself.

The second player of Veneziano scoffed. "What's so funny? Have you gone insane?" His grin grew. "It feels much better to let go, I know the sensation. Are you ready to give up and be absorbed into a new nation? You won't die. You've been reborn before." His eyes gleamed.

New York didn't answer, her lips bending into a straight line. Without hesitation, she ran at the second player, driving her weight against him and burying him against the ground. She hopped up, wincing as the edge of his blade slashed at her upper arm and dragged its way across her cheek and through her hair. New York stumbled backwards. It was a shallow cut, not meant to be lethal. She tended as a pair of hands clamped onto her shoulders. Romano's second player smiled. His suit jacket was torn, the frustration from the battle burning in his already scarlet irises.

"Don't fight too much." He warned, venom dripping from words covered in a honey sweet tone. "We don't want you broken-"

New York hooked her right leg back around the second player's and pulled him to the ground, applying fierce pressure to the back of his knee. The second player growled under his breath and snatched a handful of her hair. The strands burned her scalp as they were strained upwards. A crippled breath escaped New York's throat. She squeezed her eyes shut as Veneziano's second player wrapped his hands around her throat. She couldn't give in, wouldn't give in. But she couldn't do it alone.

The weight lifted off her and with a gasp she sucked air into her lungs. She opened her eyes to see the second players thrown backwards into the grass, toppled over each other. New York's bottom lip trembled and her eyes opened wide. The original brothers were here. And for once, they seemed to be in a state of complete harmony, both seething mad. New York watched at the second and first players assaulted each other. The second players were already tired from their previous fight with her and were slowly but surely succumbing to the added pressure. New York flinched when something tugged at her pants leg.

Her own second player, pale to the point of being almost blue, her face marred by tears, offered her first player a small, simple smile. She held up a tiny mirror and pushed it into New York's hands. "This is for you." She managed to whisper. New York watched her second player collapse. Her chest constricted, their shared pain catching her off guard. Everything rushed into her, her knowledge, the way to end this bloody mess of the collision of two worlds. New York jumped to her feet and sprinted toward the Italian second players. In a single sharp movement, she shoved the mirror between them and the original halves of Italy.

The second player's howled in pain. A hazey blue light enveloped the small mirror and cast itself onto the brothers. They screamed, clawing at their own skin and shaking their heads. "You witch!" Veneziano's second player growled, digging his nails into his own head. "Who gave you that damned mirror!?" He looked to New York's second player who lay unconscious on the ground. Romano's second player scowled. "I knew she was nothing. Do us a favor and die, signorina." Veneziano's second player hurled the knife at New York's second player. The blade sunk into her. New York grabbed her head and howled.