Not All Scars Heal With Time

The Return

Haha, I'm just a barrel of sunshine aren't I? Masiyahan!

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"I'm sorry, Japan." America whispered as he gave the order. A bomb dropped on Hiroshima. America crossed his fingers that his friend would surrender then and there. When Japan didn't, America was forced to drop yet another on Nagasaki. He bit his lip.

The news came. Japan had surrendered. America sighed with relief and guilt. I really didn't want this be happen but he only had two choices, this one would cause less casualties in the end, everyone knew that.

Two images popped in his mind when America heard the news; His hurt friend, and the happy girl that his friend had took. Along with the surrender, the Japanese had left the Philippines, consequently giving back the personification. America came back from the battlefield to the the smell of rice being boiled and sweet and sour soup.

America rushed into the kitchen to see the girl. She looked a lot older, but a lot more wounded. Around her right elbow was a loosely wrapped bandage and her entire right leg was wrapped up. She didn't wear the camouflage uniform but the rice paper shirt and floral skirt, as she had changed as soon as she got back.

When she heard the other nation enter, she laughed a bit. "About time you got home." She giggled horsley. America walked up to her in silence. He saw she was making one of her favorite dishes, Sinigang. She was just getting the rice out of the cooker when a pair of arms wrapped around her.

She squealed in pain and elbowed America on impulse. He flew onto his back with the impact. The girl turned with a guilty look on her face. "I'm so sorry." She said, helping him up off the ground with her good arm. America looked at her skeptically.

"Is there something wrong? Are you okay?" He asked the girl. She gave him a sad smiled and nodded. She turned back around and piled the rice onto a serving plate. America took the plate from her and grabbed her arm. She squeaked in pain again. He sighed and walked her over to the front room. he sat her down on the couch and walked off.

He came back with medical supplies. He hastily unwrapped her arm of the badly done bandages. What he saw made him the most sad he's been. Long scars riddled her arm, the scabs just falling off. He gulped down bile and put antibacterial ointment on it, then wrapped it up properly. He did the same with her leg.

"Is there anywhere else?" He asked the girl. She had been quiet the entire time, looking down at the other nation with grief. She nodded and took off her rice paper shirt. Under it was bandages wrapped on her shoulder and chest. A faint blush appeared on America's face but he paid no mind.

Once he finished dealing with her shoulders he gave her the medical supplies. "Okay, so what you need to do it-" He started to explain, but the girl was already putting her shirt back on and disregarding the bandages around her chest. He gave her a confused look which she returned. "Aren't you going to deal with the ones on your chest?" He asked skeptically.

"Oh, those. Hindi, they're fine. Old scars." She explained, getting up. "I'm going to head to the bathroom, don't eat without me, okay?" America nodded as she walked off, leaving him to try and find out where she got the scars on her chest from on her own.

When she got back, she was angered to see that America was already eating. She stormed up to him and slapped the fork out of his hands. "Itigil na iyon." She ordered. "When I make the pood we pray pirst, remember?" She said. The ghost of a smile formed on his face. This was all it took for the atmosphere to disappear into a joyful one.

The girl lead a prayer and then allowed America to eat. He finished quickly and went back for seconds. The girl laughed as she finished her first. "Don't eat too much. I made arrangements for dinner." America looked up from his plate, remember that it was only noon. He was used to only eating two meals with how busy it had been. He gulped down the food in his mouth.

"With who?" He asked, bits of string bean stuck to his teeth. The girl laughed again, her hair bouncing when she did.

"The main Allies. England, Canada, Prance, China, Russia, you know." She told him. America tried not to laugh at how she pronounced France and nodded. "I'm tinking of making Balut. What do you tink?" America shook his head violently, making his glasses askew. The girl laughed. "I'm just joking. I know duck embryo isn't por everyone. I might make some por me and China though."

The girl agreed on making a few dishes. The main one being Lechon and the minor one being Balut for her and China to eat. America missed her meals just as much as she missed her own, as she normally got few rations when with the Axis.

Later that evening, everyone was full and talking and joking at the table. The girl didn't make everyone pray, as she knew not everyone was really Catholic, she wasn't even going to ask England about that. America and her happened to both be Catholic so she made him silently though.

She was talking ecstatically to England and France about visiting when China went up to America, who was watching the two closely. "You seem happier, aru." China said, breaking America out of his thoughts.

"Oh, yeah I guess." He turned to the other nation with a wide smile. China laughed and sat down.

"You're less loud around her." China observed. "I might have to start calling you brother-in-law." He joked. America turned bright red, remembering how China tended to try and keep the Asian countries in a family unit. China laughed. "Anyways, when are you going to give her independence, aru? She was looking forwards to it before, you know." America watched the girl again.

"As soon as I can. She has to heal though." He informed the other nation. France was trying to flirt with the girl but she was rolling her eyes and crossing her arms with a smile. England was glancing between the two and America warily, wondering exactly how his brother would react.

"Of course, aru." China mumbled. "Just remember, not all scars heal with time." He said solemnly. America nodded, looking towards England. He gulped, remembering how the nation had raised him up. He remembered fighting for his own independence and winning. He looked at the girl. He remembered how she had fought for independence as well, from two nations nonetheless, and still failed. She may not have been made to fight but she sure tried. He was sure that she would give one hell of a fight to anyone who said otherwise, and he was also sure she wouldn't lose many more.