Just so you know, this whole chapter is in her dreams, and in the past, it's all memories
1858, early July, Nagasaki bay.
A woman with long, blonde hair done up in a low bun was helped off the ship by a man with the same color of hair, although he didn't have it in a bun. She wore a black dress, with the sleeves reaching her mid forearm and the skirt covering her mahogany boots.
She smiled at the blonde man, and the smile he sent back was nearly identical, fitting for siblings. He offered her his arm, and she took it. He led her to another pair of siblings waiting at the docks. The second pair of siblings had obsidian hair that was a stark contrast to that of the blonde ones.
When the two pairs came to be in front of the others, they both did their version of greetings. The black haired ones bowed, and the blondes bowed and curtsied in their own ways. They introduced themselves accordingly, and made their ways into the building. The two boys told the girls they would handle the treaty, and that the raven haired sibling should show the golden blonde one the ways of their country.
They did as they were told.
With the blackette and blonde in the garden.
"So, what will you be showing me first, miss Honda?"
The Japanese woman motioned to a beautiful tree, and the blonde woman's jaw dropped in awe. The raven haired woman explained.
"It is a Sakura tree, but you would call it a cherry blossom tree."
The other woman, with a hand on her heart, turned to 'miss Honda.'
"You said you first name was Sakura, yes?"
'Sakura' nodded, with a small smile.
"Yes, I did. I chose the name when the need for a human name became apparent, and Sakura's are a large cultural symbol of my nation. I t seemed fitting."
Sakura's smile widen a little more at the thought. The blonde woman barked out a laugh.
"Lucky you, I had a name before my city did. And it's not even culturally important. I'm named after a man who sailed across a sea and supposedly discovered my land."
Sakura went to intervene, she did not want her guest to down talk herself while in her care, but the blonde woman waved her off.
"It's fine, it's not like anyone uses it anyway. Only my siblings, I don't think even London would call me Columbia anymore."
Sakura bit her tongue, deep in thought. She felt she needed to make a friend, it was the right thing to do when coming out of isolation, and Columbia might just be the right person. It was that or Moscow, and while she enjoyed the quiet, she had a feeling it would be very awkward to be friends with him.
So Sakura spoke up.
"Would it help if someone else called you that?"
Columbia broke her gaze away from the spiraling tree, to turn and look at her kind host. She thought, for a hot second, and decided with a finality she did not have minute ago that it would, it really would.
So she smiled.
"I believe it would."
1889, March 15th, Apia Harbor,
In times of crisis, Columbia often found herself rereading letters that Sakura had sent her. 31 years of friendship and she would consider them to be quit close. She had been there for her friend by pen and paper during the Sakuradamon Incident, the Tsushima Incident, the Namamugi Incident, the Tenchūgumi Incident, and you get the idea. And Sakura had been there for her as much as she could, although news was a little slow.
She knew that as soon as the news reached her, Sakura would be franticly writing her a letter to know if she was okay. Sakura was like that, always there when she could be.
So, as Columbia look out at the german ships across from hers, she looked back to the Japanese characters neatly sprawled on the page with a fond smile, as she everything would be all right with Sakura as her friend.
1725, Some time in late winter, somewhere in a house in the english countryside.
A woman, her blonde hair down and bangs hanging just above her eyes walked the silent halls. Her faded blue nightgown swayed around her shins as she came to a stop in front of a large window in the hall she had wandered through. She took in the sight of it. The white curtains that sat on either side of the plain glass. She looked apprehensive for a second, and looked either way down the hallway before staring at the latch holding the window close.
She took a deep breath, and then unlocked it, letting the window fly open. The wind flew in, and she smiled a little as her hair was swept away from her face. She gazed out the window, out into the cold night.
She drunk in the silence of it all, the crisp cold air and the white moonlight that made her skin shine. She smiled in appreciation, closing her eyes and just taking in the feeling of it all.
That was until she heard an 'oh goodness' and the frantic patter of feet heading towards. She whipped her head to the side and stared at the approaching woman incredulously. Her red hair was up in a very messy bun and she franticly but carefully put the brass candle holder down to the close the window. The blonde woman stepped back as the red head picked back the small flame and turned to her with an angry face.
The blonde held a sheepish look on her face as she awaited the scolding. But all the red headed woman did was sigh, with a look that just said 'I-know' and led the blonde back down the halls. She paused outside of a white, wooden door with pink and blue flowers painted around the base. She exhaled, and turned to the blonde, who was looking at her feet.
"I know you miss him, dear."
The blonde girl slowly looked back up at the red head.
"Soon, dear, soon."
1989, some time in early winter, somewhere high above the german countryside.
"Alright, did you two get your parachutes on?"
A woman with golden blonde hair up in a messy ponytail yelled over the wind to two muscled wind beside her. They bother responded with a 'ja' and she nodded approvingly.
"Awesome, good luck."
"Wait, why-"
She didn't give the albino anytime to respond before she pushed him out of the plane. The albino's blonde brother gaped at the scene before he too was pushed out of the aircraft. The American woman shrugged and walked back inside, closing the bay doors as she went.
She notified the pilot that it was time to turn back before sitting across from a tall brunette man. He raised his eyebrow at her and she shrugged again she buckled in.
"You pushed them?"
"They were a bit slow."
"Slow enough to push?"
"Oh shush you, they're there, aren't they?"
The man chuckled a little, and the woman smiled.
Time unknown, whereabouts unknown.
Columbia stood back in the filed for before, the same wheat, wind, and sky surrounded her. She looked around, and found herself to be surrounded by five familiar women.
The one from before, herself in her revolutionary uniform. To this one's right was a women wearing the black dress she met Sakura in, and this woman was her as well. To the left of her revolutionary self was herself again, this time wearing the faded blue nightgown she hadn't worn since she lived with London. To the left of this one was herself once more, this time dressed in the sailors uniforms he wore during the Samoan crisis. To the right of herself who met Sakura was a woman wearing an 80's aviators outfit, the one she wore she dropped Prussia and Germany off before the unification.
She was nearly brought to tears as she took her past selves in, and when she wakes up, she will find out she did.
![](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/221069346-288-k56760.jpg)
YOU ARE READING
The Open Seas: The story of Columbia Jones (Hetalia)
FanfictionThe Open Seas is a story about Columbia Jones, otherwise known as the personification of Washington Dc. Read to learn as she goes through the troubles of old regrets, crushing guilt, and drama's with friends and lovers. There will be Q&A eventually...