Forever

Tomorrow

(Underlined dialogue means they are speaking Spanish)

It was no secret to Mexico that he wasn't welcome in his home. As the son of Aztec, his grandfather viewed him as a savage. So when Mexico heard Spanish Empire tell Spain that he was better off sold out to some rich woman for the profit of marriage, Mexico barely bat an eye.

"I wish you wouldn't speak of my son that way-,"

"Her son," Spanish Empire interrupted Spain. "It pains me to have to keep him in this palace, if I didn't know better I would've killed the savage along with his mother,"

"But father, I-,"

"Silence. I know this child's death would be a grand relief to me, his creation brought great dishonor to our families name. but since we have him we must use him to our advantage. So for the love of god, stop spoiling the brat and put him to work," Spanish Empire said calmly.

"But father, you told me not to train him to be an heir-,"

"Then train him to be a slave," Spanish Empire interrupted once again.

"Father please, he's just a child. Surely you have enough-,"

"I've heard enough from you. Go. And if I see that brat treated like he's one of us, I may consider that execution," Spanish Empire said, the calmness he paired with such cruel words reflecting his cold heart. Mexico felt his heart sink at his grandfathers words. He knew he wasn't welcome, but he never thought it would get this bad. Mexico was so preoccupied with his thoughts, he barely noticed his father leave the room and look down at him. He looked up at his father, his heart beating faster.

"I-it's not.... you promise you won't....," Mexico stuttered, unsure of what he wanted to say. Spain looked pained. He just wanted to give his son a hug, to tell him everything would be ok... but he knew he couldn't if he wanted to keep Mexico alive. Instead, he simply walked past him as if he didn't exist.

Mexico felt his heart drop once more. His father was the last person he could turn to.... but now he had nothing. Mexico didn't know what to do. He just wanted to run away.

Then go. They don't want you anyway. So just go.

Mexico began to run through the palace, trying to find an exit. While running, he bumped into someone.

"Hey! Mexico, watch where you're going! What's wrong?" Chile asked. Mexico looked up at his brother in fear, Spanish Empires words ringing in his head.

If I see that brat being treated like he's one of us, I might consider that execution.

Mexico pushed Chile out of his path and continued sprinting away. He ran through the kitchen and out the door. He looked upon the green field in front of him, and the vast forest at the green plains end. Without a second thought, Mexico ran towards it. He didn't care if anyone was chasing him. He didn't care if he'd never find his way back. He didn't care if he was just running to his death. At least it's a death he'd choose. He ran and ran until he could barely breathe, and when his body could no longer stand running, he collapsed to the ground and cried. He was frantically gasping for breath and coughing. he felt as though he was dying. He didn't care. He just curled up into a ball and cried.

"Hey! Are you ok?" Mexico heard a voice say. Mexico looked up to see a boy about his age. The boy kneeled down next to him and held out his hand. "Don't be scared, I won't hurt you. My name is thirteen, what's yours?" Thirteen asked. Mexico couldn't understand what this boy was saying to him, but he didn't seem to be dangerous.

"Q-Quién eres tú?" Mexico said, wiping the tears from his eyes. Thirteen look troubled, as if contemplating if Mexico could even understand him.

"Do you speak English?" Thirteen asked. Mexico recognized the words 'speak' and 'English'. He tried his best to remember the few English words he knew.

"Who? name Mexico," Mexico struggled to say. Thirteen nodded, understanding that Mexico didn't speak English. Thirteen took a nearby stick and wrote the number 13 in the dirt. He then pointed at himself.

"That's me, thirteen. Thur-teen," Thirteen said. Mexico thought it was strange that this boys name was apparently a number, but he tried to be polite.

"Los trece?" Mexico asked, pointing at the number. Thirteen wasn't sure what that meant, but nodded anyway.

"Are you ok?" Thirteen asked, dragging his finger across his cheek as if to replicate crying. Mexico looked down, wiping away any excess tears.

"Wasn't wanted....," Mexico said. Thirteen understood what Mexico was trying to say. Thirteen stood up and held out his hand for Mexico to take it.

"Let's be friends, my grandfather doesn't want me either," Thirteen exclaimed, a playful smile on his face. Thirteen was exited by the thought of having a friend his age, and even though this boy didn't completely understand him, he was confident that wouldn't matter.

"Friends?" Mexico asked. He wasn't sure what that word meant, but the boy's smile comforted him. Thirteen helped Mexico up, and together they walked through the forest.

Even though the boys couldn't communicate verbally, they didn't let that stop them from trying to get to know each other.

"Color favorito?" Mexico asked. Thirteen assumed he meant 'favorite color?'.

"Blue! Like... um..." Thirteen looked to the side to see small blue flowers nearby a creek. "Like those!" Thirteen exclaimed, rushing over to the flower bush. He picked two flowers and held them up to his eyes. "Look! Aren't my eyes pretty?" Thirteen exclaimed. Mexico laughed at thirteens childishness. Thirteen put one flower in his shirt pocket and handed the other one to Mexico, who gladly took it.

The boys continued walking, until suddenly they heard a rustling in the bushes. They went to investigate the sound, and on the other side of the bush, they found a small rabbit. Curious, the boys moved closer to it. The rabbit began running away. And Thirteen chased after it, grabbing onto Mexico's hand and dragging him along.

The two began running through the forest to keep up with the rabbit, giggling the whole way. Eventually, it ran into a nearby bush and Thirteen stopped running. Mexico wasn't ready for the sudden stop, and ran into Thirteen, causing both of them to topple over. The boys began laughing and playfully fighting each other. Thirteen grabbed a stick off the ground and brandished it like a sword. Mexico smiled and picked up another stick. They started to sword fight, trying their best to replicate the movements they observed their fathers making during their training.

The boys were having a great time pretending to beat each other up. Mexico was about to swing at Thirteen, when suddenly a younger boy jumped in the way.

"Stop!" The boy cried, latching onto Thirteen in a hug.

"Canada? What are you doing here?" Thirteen asked worriedly, hugging his frightened younger brother. Canada ignored Thirteens question and looked at Mexico fearfully.

"Don't hurt him!" Canada exclaimed.

"It's ok Maple! We're just playing, I'm fine!" Thirteen exclaimed. "This is my friend Mexico! Say hi!" Thirteen said, holding Canada's hand and ushering him closer to Mexico. Mexico could tell the younger boy was scared of him, so he put on his gentlest tone of voice possible and his most comforting smile.

"Hola! Cuál es tu nombre?" Mexico asked. Canada didn't quite understand him, but he figured Mexico was probably asking him what his name was.

"C-Canada. It's nice to meet you," Canada said politely despite his nervousness. Thirteen smiled and picked up Canada in a piggyback ride style.

"We should probably head home now... will I see you here again tomorrow?" America asked. Mexico recognized the words 'home', 'here' and 'tomorrow'. Mexico smiled.

"Tomorrow," Mexico said, slightly nodding. With that, they went their separate ways. Mexico heading towards the south, and the brothers heading north.