And It All Falls Down // Hetalia // Working Title

Chapter 3

I could remember my full name now.

I'm Arthur Kirkland. I can't remember my middle name.

Maybe I do not have one.

In my house, I always have lived with Alfred. He hasn't asked for independence, which suprises me. Someone like Alfred seems like the type to want to leave as soon as he possibly can.

I remember what I looked like before. My hair was a little longer, but not much.

But still, enough that I notice when I look in the mirror that my hair is shorter. Did they cut it when I was asleep?

And it's darker at the ends than it was before. Surely they didn't dye it in my sleep...?

I come from a wealthy family, us Kirklands. We are European, after all. Especially me. I am the wealthiest in my family.

I was an avid croquet player long ago, but I faded from it after a while.

Everything from before whatever happened - we will call it "the mystery" - comes back to me in fragments like this. Little parts that reveal a bigger story that is my life. A story with little unusual things. So what caused the mystery? Is it something good? Bad?

Things like how I found Alfred while he was playing in a field. How people were reporting seeing a little blond boy with one hair sticking out running around without a parent. And how he chose me to look after him over Francis.
And ever since, Alfred has lived with me.

He's the nicest person to me besides my beautiful magical friends. Speaking of which, where are they?

France is my brother, by the way. And he's always been mean to me. So why is he so nice all of a sudden?

---

I turned to the doctor. "I remember everything before the accident, or whatever you call it."

"Good, good. Do you remember any part of what happened after?"

I searched my brain.

"No."

"It will come to you, Arthur. Trust me."

I nodded. I wanted to scream at this doctor. Just tell me. Just tell me what happened.
But he will refuse, just like he always does. Remembering by myself will 'help me'.

I sigh.

"Any particular special memories from before?"

---

When Alfie was a child and I first found him.

France, Finland and I were at a river. Finland was complaining about his problems. France and I weren't really listening. Something about the Netherlands not letting him settle in the New World.

"Then there was this boy! He kept running around without a parent or anything! None of the village people know him and the next village is really far away! What if Netherlands finds him?"

"Huh? A boy?" I asked.

"Yeah! He had dirty blond hair and blue eyes!"

Blond hair and blue eyes. What if he's German?

"I wonder where his parent is." France said.

I turned and looked into the field behind us. "That kid?" I pointed to a kid who matched the same description.

"Yeah! That's him!"

"What if he's one of our... brothers? He totally looks like me." France said.

"No, his hair looks exactly like mine."

Me and France fought for about an hour after that, until Finland stepped in. "So what part of him looks like me?"

"Uh, nothing. Let's not talk about looks."

I then remember waking up early the next day to go find the child, which I did. I slowly approached him, then talked. "Hello, child. What are you doing?"

The child turned. "Oh, I was just walking around, mister."

"You're not scared of me?"

"No."

"Then who are you?"

"I'm America!"

I nodded.

"Do you want to be my little brother?"

"Yeah, sure!"

"Okay then."

"So, I guess I'll call you big brother!"

I thought of all my brothers, how I called all them big brother and how cruel they were to me. How much I hated those two words.

"No... No, just call me Britain."

"...Okay."

I nodded. Then France came from behind me.

"Hey, want to be my brother, little boy?"

"No, no... Please be my brother... Please!"

The kid looked at me, scared, and then started crying. "See? You scared him!"

I sighed. Yeah. I screw everything up. How great, I've lost another one.

"Now come to me, child, I have great French food!"

I sighed and  looked down, feeling tears stinging my eyes.

I just sat there for a while. I thought he'd have chosen France by now, until...

I felt a little hand on my shoulder.

"Britain, are you ok?"

I smiled at him. "Yes, I'm fine."

He hugged me.

And then he was my brother.

---

A/N: This story takes place before America asks for independence/an au where America never asks for independence.