【Mi Ying】that side

The morning light fell through the gaps in the curtains and fell on his eyelids, and Arthur opened his eyes in a daze.Although it was still cloudy outside the window, there was no trace of the rainy night before.

He moved his body, and Alfred's arms around his waist tightened reflexively from behind.

Arthur rolled over in the protected space, facing the American's face.Alfred's shoulders also moved, but he didn't wake up, and his breathing was still even.The American's bare neck is firm and firm, and his shoulders are full of muscles. Even in sleep, he still looks full of vitality.

It looks just like America.But it's not America.

Arthur reached out and stroked Alfred's cheek, then raised his head to kiss the American's thick blond hair, then the cheek, then the lips.Then he gently moved Alfred's arm away, got up and dressed, and got out of bed to wash.

He stared blankly at his face in the mirror, paler in the dim light of the morning.If I were England, I would be just this thin, haggard young man now.

It's very different from Alfred, and it can't be compared with the United States.Where is where I am, and where is where I should go.

He remembered the day when Honda left, and he said leisurely under the street lamp that he missed the bright moon and the bamboo forest.When Ivan Braginsky said goodbye to him, he said that he missed the sunflower fields in his hometown.

They all mentioned the sea.They said they had to cross that sea before going back.

The only sea near this town is located in the western suburbs of the town. It is the sea where Alfred told him his love——

The ocean, what a significant existence to him.

Since he became a country, he has been tightly surrounded by him, and he has braved the wind and waves to cross countless times, the vast and endless ocean that separates the distant European continent and the American continent.

Crossing the sea sounds like an absurd and appalling act.

Arthur imagined the possibility of himself drowning in the sea, who could not swim in any world.If this is the case, it would be a relief for ordinary Arthur Kirkland and ordinary Alfred F. Jones.

He couldn't pretend to be without worries, couldn't bear Alfred's love with the illusion of being a country.The love they forged step by step was so delicate and warm that it could make him cry at any time.But this happiness is not real.

Arthur didn't want to use excuses like fantasies or hallucinations to tie Alfred anymore.

What is the difference between being in this state and cheating Alfred.This is too unfair to Alfred whom he loves deeply, and too unfair to Alfred who is seriously thinking about their future.

Just like when he was in England, he always seemed to use those memories and scars to restrain the United States.Those emotions are so painful.

Even if this is a false experience, or a wishful thinking dream, I am not qualified to restrain you.

I want to give you back your freedom.The freedom you've spent your whole life chasing.

Arthur clenched his fists with determination.He went back to the bedroom and rummaged through the American's jacket on the floor for the motorcycle keys.

"Arthur...?"

Alfred's muffled voice came from behind him.Arthur's face sank, he put the motorcycle keys in his pocket, turned and approached the bed.Alfred rested his head on his arms, his palms resting on the back of the Englishman's pale hand.

"You woke up really early, how are you doing today?" He leaned forward and kissed the Englishman with a smile on his face.

"Alfred."

"Um?"

"...Go to sleep."

Arthur bit his lip, and he slowly pulled his hand away from the American's hand, moving it to Alfred's face.

"What do you mean..." Alfred opened his eyes in doubt, Arthur's fingers shook slightly in the air, and his fingertips began to emit a little light, which slowly fell before the eyes of the American.

Alfred's eyes were lost at that moment, he couldn't even finish his sentence, and his eyelids were slowly closed.His exhausted upper body fell back to the pillow, and there was a muffled sound, followed by the sound of even and subtle breathing.

Arthur put his hand down, his fingertips trembling uncontrollably, he clenched his fist, trying to maintain calm.

See, here's the proof.

Those small magics that only work in "Britain" that occasionally work, and those magics that don't work in the United States, work on Alfred.

He picked up his coat from the floor, put it on, and walked into the living room.Looking around at the light blue walls of the apartment, and the living room with all kinds of maps and cosmic-themed posters, he didn't say a word.

Light passed through the windows of the living room, and the sight became brighter and brighter.Arthur went to the window and raised his hand, and slammed his fist on the glass. The sound of shards and cracks echoed in the living room. The sharp edge scratched his skin, and the bright red blood flowed out from the wound, almost soaking his palm. The pain quickly spread throughout his body.

"I am England! My name is - United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland!"

Arthur raised his head and shouted to the sky outside the window.He could feel the pain of the injury calming down, contracting a little bit, and then disappearing completely.He raised his hand again to look at the back of his hand, the blood on it had coagulated and oxidized into a darker color.The Englishman bit his lip hard to suppress the quivering at the corners of his mouth.

He groped into the kitchen and cleaned the dirt off his arms with a towel dipped in water, leaving no scars on his pale skin.He sneered self-deprecatingly.

Looking out the window again, only the gray-white sky divided into pieces by broken glass remained in the field of vision.

Let's go back.

It took him a lot of effort to push the heavy locomotive out of the garage.As a rider for the first time, he realized that the body was heavier than expected.

He put Alfred's helmet on the side of the road, imitated the American movement, tilted the front wheel of the motorcycle to one side, then straddled his legs, and then put on his exclusive helmet.

After igniting the engine, he reluctantly looked at the helmet on the ground, the big bad wolf sticker on it had been scratched and blurred by wind and rain.The lop-eared rabbit on his head must have been unclear.

Just like him now.

Arthur turned the car around and picked up speed to hit the road.His chest and mind were empty, and he just followed his intuition and drove west.

The locomotive was speeding on the road, the wind was whistling in my ears, and there were hardly any other cars along the way.Since Honda and Ivan left, and since he started having questions about his past, the neighborhood has seen fewer and fewer residents.

He really should have noticed.

The bony figure of the British was not commensurate with the huge size of the locomotive, but he drove steadily all the way.

After leaving the town, there is first the wide boulevard, then the branch road, then the station, then the coastline, and finally the ocean that looks deeper in the absence of clear sunlight.

That was the same route as he entered the town half a year ago.However, this time it was completely in the opposite direction, and there was no American Alfred F. Jones by his side.

The Englishman threw his motorcycle off the beach, dropped his helmet, took off his coat and shoes, and rolled up his trousers.

The strong seaside wind messed up his blond hair and thin shirt. He stepped on the monochrome fine sand with bare feet and walked step by step towards the sea.

Walking into the sea alone, the cold liquid gradually covered his ankles, calves, and knees, soaking his trouser legs and clothing.His steps became slow and heavy until his waist and ribs were submerged in the water.The waves pushed against his body, and the droplets hit his face. The liquid had a salty smell and the coldness penetrating into his skin. He narrowed his eyes with difficulty.

The water rose up to his neck and cheeks and began to encroach on his skin and organs, robbing him of his breath.

In the dark, he struggled to open his eyes.

He saw the landscape of the town disintegrating in the water, the bricks and tiles of the apartment and the police station he was most familiar with crumbled in front of him, and the sunlight was cut into pieces under the shade of trees.A sword studded with a cross quickly slashed across his chest without leaving a trace of blood, and the ray of light was like a bright light leading him through the endless night without any pain.

All the pictures slowed down, floating around him like shards of a mirror.With a slight tilt of the head, you can see every figure reflected on it, including England when he was young, his proud brothers, Canada, Portugal, hateful France, dignified Prussia, Australia and New Zealand , Familiar or not-so-familiar faces floating around.

He reached for the shard closest to his chest, and on it was Alfred—no, that was America—and the man's sky-blue eyes gazed at him with rare sadness.

His voice was soft and deep: "Good night, Arthur."

Yes, this is really just a dream.

Because the America that would not fall in love with him used that human name that had never been called before.

- "Arthur".

A large piece of darkness poured in again, covering everything around him.

Fragile movements reappeared around him, and there was the rustling sound of heavy fabrics rubbing against each other, as if the humid summer air was lifting the curtains and flapping the window sills.

He flung his eyes open.

A small piece of faint light surrounds the eyes, and there is a light touch on the face.His eyelashes fluttered, and his emerald green pupils met the twinkling pixies.

Xiao Huaxian opened her mouth crying: "Britain, you finally woke up!"

Peppermint Feifei pressed his fluffy body against his face: "I'm sorry! Britain, I'm sorry! It's our fault, we just hope this magic can make you feel better during this period."

The little unicorn rubbed against his hand by the bed, and Picosi, who was wearing a hat, clasped his hands as if confessing: "I didn't expect this magic to make you unconscious. Those humans have visited you several times, and they even Saying 'the motherland may be in suspended animation' really freaked us all out!"

The elves comforted and cried one after another.The lips of the young man with green eyes trembled, but he couldn't make any sound.

"Really sorry."

"We are just praying from the bottom of our hearts that this magic will keep you from crying as July approaches."

"Hopefully, this magic can make your wish come true."

"desire."

His eyes were so dazed that he was in an illusion, and he repeated the words of the elf like a dream.The voice was hoarse as if it had been sanded.

He slowly propped up his upper body, and the elves quickly spread out to make room for him.The feeling of physical exhaustion, the smell of rust rising from the throat, and the faint burning sensation from the 200-year-old scar on the arm.Such a familiar illness starts in June every year and lasts until the first ten days of July——the "July disease" exclusively for him.

He woke up.He was no longer the ordinary Englishman Arthur Kirkland.

He is the country named "Arthur Kirkland" and "England" with the name of a person that no one calls.He wasn't even British, he was England itself.

He had never been a cop, hadn't even been to police school.Those proficient fighting skills and shooting skills are all the experience he has accumulated as a country through all kinds of difficulties. Even without training, time and experience have made his body proficient.

He has set foot in many places in the world, from the northern hemisphere to the southern hemisphere, across the Atlantic Ocean and the Indian Ocean. The vastness of his colonies once gave him the proud title of "the sun never sets"-the only land that does not include the Small town with many familiar faces.

The small town that can never be searched on the map and whose mobile phone signal is always unsatisfactory.That town doesn't belong to any country, doesn't exist anywhere in the world, and he can't even pronounce the town's name.

The station leading to the town has no name, and the sea that fell in love with Alfred has no name.

This is the reality, this is the world called "United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland".When I remembered that I was England in that freezing rain, it was all over.

This is a dream called escape, this is a love called hallucination.

Magic will eventually fail, and dreams will eventually wake up.

His judgment in the dream was correct.He broke the magic of the elves with intuition and reason, and indeed returned to this world.

Britain opened his mouth again, but suddenly coughed up a mouthful of blood.He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his cuff, resisted the feeling of vomiting and struggled to get up and almost fell off the bed. He staggered towards the study in the deep corridor.

While coughing, he rummaged through the always tidy antique wooden bookcase, pulled out and dropped thick books one after another, completely ignoring that this was his favorite paper that always smelled good breath of space.The elves shrank at the door, watching him anxiously.

Among the jumbled piles of books, he recognized exactly the one wrapped in hard brown leather—a masterpiece of clichés and beautiful protagonists, the Romeo and Juliet.

Let me find that rose photo bookmark.Let me find some marks that belong to him.

Even if it's a long dream, give me proof of what I've been through.

With trembling hands, Britain turned every page of the pale yellow book. There were no pictures of roses, no imprint of that world.Only the page marked with a silver book hook in the past was underlined with a light pencil.

"Yes / I'm talking about a dream

Dreams are products of the empty mind

It's just an empty fantasy"

The book fell to the ground and made a dull sound as it collided with the carpet.Britain was exhausted and could only sit weakly on the ground.

The sound of the main door of the manor house being pushed open came from a distance, and a group of people quickly approached the study.

"He's in the study, go in." The voice without much emotion...was Scotland.

A young man with brown-black hair——his secretary Mario Howard quickly walked through the door of the study and squatted beside England: "Mr. England! That's great! You've finally woken up!" The expression can be described as a combination of sadness and joy.Northern Ireland and Wales stood next to Mario, who leaned over and pulled his coat over the flimsy British pajamas: "This time it's really messed up, England."

"I……"

Britain looked at the people in front of him blankly.These faces are both familiar and unfamiliar, as if they have not seen them for a long time.

"I'll contact His Majesty and the Prime Minister right now!" Mario wiped the corners of his eyes vigorously. He pulled out his mobile phone and made a call, while telling the crowd behind him, "I'm sorry for your inconvenience."

Britain looked back in a daze, and several paramedics filed in.They lifted Britain off the floor slowly and comforted him softly: "Motherland, please don't be afraid, we need to do a comprehensive inspection for you." Among them, the tallest male nurse directly lifted Britain off the ground.

The British young man's thin body quickly hung in the air, and the people around consciously dispersed to make way for the passage, and the elves had already hid in the corners of the room and corridor.The nurses were talking in low voices around him, seeming to be discussing the next steps of the examination.

Their voices hummed beyond recognition.He only felt that his chest was empty, and the urge to vomit in his throat seemed to have disappeared, and he couldn't exert any strength in his whole body.

His arms hung limply to the ground like withered plants.He turned his head blankly and looked out of the window through the crowd.

The sound of the wind intensified, and the sky was already full of overcast clouds. He stared intently at the patches of gray, and the green pupils reflected the color, like a layer of dust.Not long after, the raindrops fell sporadically, and then tapped on the window edge.

In late June, it rained again in London.