【Mi Ying】that side

They whispered: England is sick.

The itinerary in June was so dense that the UK did not expect it.Meetings with European countries, visits by members of the royal family, import and export trade agreements with African countries... He had to stay at Buckingham Palace with his suitcase so that he could go to Downing Street at any time, and he had to arrange a review during the itinerary Health status.

After the meeting with the Prime Minister, the British body sank heavily into the sofa in the lounge.He has not been back to the manor house in the suburbs for several days, and the small rose garden that has lost care must have become even more dilapidated.

"We are in a difficult situation, please bear with me, Mr. England." Mario, his always conscientious secretary, bent over the sofa, apologetic.

"It's okay." Britain coughed a few times, and swallowed back the rusty smell that filled her throat. "This is my duty."

July is approaching, and the face of Britain is getting paler.Due to irresistible fatigue and anemia, his already thin body looked like a swaying leaf when he walked.

This is worse than every year in the past.

Britain knew it was really sick, and very sick.

It can be seen from the expressions of other people in the regular meeting of the Commonwealth.Even Australia, which has always been rough, felt that something was wrong with him.The Australian youth with a rough style stopped the UK after the meeting and said with a serious face: "Britain, I think you look like you are going to die." Then he was kicked hard in the back by New Zealand.

"Mr. England, this year's situation seems to be much worse than in previous years." Canada stepped forward and patted his back when England coughed, "Don't come to North America this year."

Britain was taken aback.

In July of previous years, he would take the time to fly to North America no matter what, to celebrate Canada's birthday sickly, and then go all the way south before the Fourth of July, coughing up blood to attend the National Day ceremony in the United States.

What Canada said is not surprising at all. Europe and North America are separated by [-] kilometers from the Atlantic Ocean. It takes at least half a day for the flight alone, not to mention the travel preparations and itinerary arrangements in advance.

He's busy, America is busy, even Canada, which seems more laid-back than the average country, is busy.Yet he hadn't seen America for some time.

"No... I'll go."

He looked up and forced a smile towards Canada.

Even if it's just his wishful thinking, almost paranoid habit.

The United States and its people have a soft spot for lively ceremonies. Every July, there is an indispensable grand fireworks show, a star-studded show in a crowded square, and White House staff toasting on the lawn and singing "The Star-Spangled Banner" loudly.

The invited countries felt out of place when they were in such a celebration - after all, this is an exclusive festival for Americans, and they are just guests.

Britain stood in the crowd, looking unremarkable.Not far away, the young American in an air force jacket walked among his fellow citizens, greeting everyone warmly.During the whole celebration, the United Kingdom only greeted the United States quickly when sending gifts, and then it could only look like this from afar.

Spain and France approached Britain with wine glasses. The former squinted at the young country in the distance with dissatisfaction: "The United States has become more and more defiant lately."

France took a sip of champagne and frowned because of the poor quality of the alcohol: "That guy is standing there after all, just like us before?"

Britain's eyes still stayed on the tall young man in the distance.

That's America.America, which beat him, broke Spain, and liberated France, trampled upon their failed precedent.

The confident smiles on the faces of the Americans made the British feel lost.He murmured, "No... what he saw in his eyes was a scenery we had never seen before."

"You are still the same, you only talk good things about that guy. You really don't change your mind." The Spanish was full of sarcasm, and France sang with him: "You guys are really working together. Brother, I feel very insecure while guarding the EU."

"Shut up, you two bastards." England cursed in a low voice, but there was a hint of teasing in the corner of her mouth.Only talking about history with other people like this, thinking only about their interests internationally—avoiding individual, face-to-face conversations with the United States—was most reassuring for him, because at least he could remain calm and not be swayed by inexplicable emotions.

After exchanging greetings with the protagonists of the ceremony, Japan walked towards the UK, polite as always: "Good evening, Mr. UK. I heard that you are not in good health recently, please take care of yourself."

Britain nodded gratefully, and the dark eyes of the oriental youth stared at him, as if full of pity-the eyes were exactly the same as when the Honda chrysanthemum bid him farewell.

"Japan," England said hesitantly, "have you ever thought about... going to see the bamboo forest and the bright moon?"

The expression of the Oriental froze instantly, and Britain clearly caught the panic flashing in his eyes.After a moment of silence, he asked back, "Why did you suddenly ask such a question?"

Britain was at a loss for words.

Yes, why.Does he hope to hear some answers from Japan?What answer can Japan give him?Britain, ashamed of his cowardice in the previous moment, bowed his head: "No, nothing...sorry."

"You're welcome. Please take care." The steady voice of the Oriental brought alienation again.

"Thank you." Britain watched the other party bow to them, turned and walked towards the crowd, and the figure was quickly buried in the night.

He clenched his fist silently.

As July gradually passes, the body will gradually get better.This is the experience accumulated by the UK over the years, and it is a constant law.

Unfortunately, this rule did not work this year.

This July, he met with the United States several times at international conferences.Every time they met, Britain felt that his condition was still getting worse.

Looking at America's blue eyes, that chiseled face and broad shoulders, and those arms that look so warm, England always feels heartache and cannot suppress the heat in her eyes.

The United States is still the same, a heroic and powerful young country, and everything is normal.

All countries are normal.Everyone calculated with a smile, secretly competed when cooperating, formed alliances for common interests, and made enemies for their own interests.

Only oneself is not normal.Britain is very clear.

He is closer and cooperates more closely with the United States than the average country.As it should be, it is only so.

He is sick.I can't help but overlap the United States with the Alfred in my dream, knowing that it can't be, it won't be, but I can't stop it.

Obviously there will be no hugs between them, no follow-up eyes, no clasping hands and saying I will always stay by your side, no holding hands and walking under the avenue, no kissing under the mistletoe, No one will watch fireworks on a cold night, no one will hand him a green apple and say that the color is as good as your eyes, no one will say with burning eyes that I want to protect you, let me be your hero alone.

There is no hero anywhere.

That's obviously not America.

Britain felt stupid and cowardly.

He hid in the dream brought by the elf without authorization and fell in love with Alfred who did not exist in this world, and thought he was brave enough to break free from the dream.However, after waking up from the dream, he couldn't help but associate reality with those hallucinations.

"You really like to confuse illusion and reality."

Almost as stupid as his older brother had laughed at.

What love.What friendship.What a harmonious relationship.

When he was still thinking about these things in his heart, he knew that he was seriously ill.

"Mr. England, long time no see."

Britain can meet Russia at every international meeting, but this is probably the first time they have had a direct dialogue in a while.Britain has nothing to do with Russia, a man who can break the curse of Busby's chair, and he will stay as far away from him as possible.

When Russia was walking towards him, the United States was standing at the gate of the conference room. He seemed to be chewing the burger with ease, but there was almost no warmth in his eyes. No matter how he looked, he was observing them.Britain suddenly remembered the so-called "innate mutual restraint" theory-it was just like what happened in a dream.There was a hint of sarcasm in his eyes.

"Hello, Russia."

Russia seems to have a friendly face, but the terrified atmosphere remains unchanged.After all, this person is not Ivan... No, to be precise, he does have a human name like "Ivan Braginsky", but it has nothing to do with the weird Russian neighbor in the dream who occasionally shows vulnerability and fear .

The frigid countries took another step closer to him, directly separating the United States from Britain's sight-this time their distance was even further.

"You look so sad," Russia said, tilting his head and looking at Britain. "Look, like I said, you're hurt."

The Russian's tone was indifferent, but it made Britain's mind blank.He looked up into the other's face in disbelief.

Russia also looked down at him, his tall body cast a shadow on the skinny Englishman: "When you plant roses in the garden, you obviously have such a happy expression on your face." His voice was so small that the voice behind him Several Eastern European countries could not hear.They looked at England in bewilderment, wondering what the two of them who had always been at odds were worth greeting.

Britain has no time to worry about those sights.His heart seemed to be clenched tightly.

Planting roses in the flowerbed... When would he ever have such an intersection with Russia.

What is this person talking about... Could it be him, how could it be...

Britain pretended to be calm, but still couldn't suppress the trembling of his voice: "Russia, you...do you, remember that dream..."

Russia narrowed his eyes: "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Ivan Braginsky!"

Britain reached out and grabbed Russia's scarf. Because of the lessons learned from the past, he almost used all his strength to suppress the volume.

Russia was stunned for a moment, and he slowly retracted his smile, his purple eyes seemed to be covered with fog: "You shouldn't call me by that name, Mr. British." He took Britain's wrist, gently pushed it away, and put the scarf back on Tidy up.

"You know, we shouldn't have those names." The voice was unbelievably gentle, and it seemed to be cool.

"us……"

"Dreams are superfluous products, Mr. Britain." Before turning to leave, Russia said to Britain with pity.

His blood vessels and heart were beating violently and disorderly, his back was chilled, and cold sweat kept breaking out on his forehead.

What the hell is Russia saying and what does it mean.If, if... is it possible, that dream... is not a hallucination.

He squatted down, trembling all over, and his mind was in chaos.He had no time to dodge other countries walking past him, and was pushed and almost fell to the ground.

A figure squatted down beside Yingying, supporting him with one hand, and blocking the approaching footsteps of others with the other arm.

Alfred...

Britain struggled to raise its head to look at others, the young man with pale blond hair and a cold and handsome face - it was Norway.The usually indifferent Nordic youth is showing rare worry: "British, your face looks bad. Let me take you to the lounge."

"...Okay." Britain stood up unsteadily, his eyes swept over the United States, and the United States stood a few steps behind Norway, with his head half down, his expression thoughtful——Britain Immediately lost.

It would be great if the person who stepped forward was the United States.

——However, even if you come to the United States, what is the difference?

Silly.

England raised his arms to shield his eyes, and laughed self-deprecatingly.

That ocean, that morning glow surrounding Alfred and him, an ocean in which he thought he might drown, didn't exist anywhere in the world.

It was all made up by him.He thought he could convince himself like this.

Norway moved a chair to sit beside the sofa, looked at Britain lying on his back, and said softly, "You don't seem to be in a good state recently." That voice was always calm and reserved, as if the outside world couldn't affect him in the slightest. .

This feeling made England suddenly envious, he turned his head to the side of the sofa: "I... recently had a dream."

"Is it a good dream?"

"Yes... a very long, beautiful dream." Britain's voice was choked with sobs.

"Then why are you crying?"

Norway sighed, and put his hand over England's shoulder, stroking the elf lying on it. "Look how worried your elf is."

England wiped his eyes quickly, and he turned his face, his eyes were red, and those emerald green eyes were fixed on the little hairball lying on his body.The elf moved to England's cheek and rubbed it lightly a few times.

Norway looks out the window: "It's hard to understand beings like us."

We exist like this.

"Britain, do you know 'Rupert's Tears'?"

"The one about...physics?"

Norway nodded and said nothing more.England suddenly understood what he meant.

"Rupert's Tears", a drop-shaped glass that has been melted at high temperature and scoured by ice water, even bullets fired at high speeds cannot break such glass, but only need to apply some external pressure on the slender end of the glass, Can make it completely shattered.

Our existence is born to be a country.It looks tough, but...

"Don't be like that."

The Norwegian's voice fell softly, and he turned his head out of the window, tapping his fingers on the handle of the seat.

The heart of Britain calmed down instantly as if a gust of cool wind had blown it.He looked up at Norway's profile.

The young man who has never expressed much smiles lightly: "Even my lively relatives and friends may not understand me. For example-they can't see elves, and sometimes they are afraid." He pointed to the huge body behind him. The forest elf let out an aggrieved "owwow".

Seeing the pitiful expression on the elf's seemingly mighty face, Britain softened her heart and smiled softly: "Thank you for your soothing words. Norway, has anyone ever said that you look like a psychiatrist?"

"For people like us, it's impossible not to learn some ways to comfort ourselves." Norway looked at him, his lavender eyes were filled with tenderness, "Even if we can't be understood, at least we still have the right to rest."

"..."

"You're smart enough to know what to do, England."

"Thank you, Norway."

"It's my pleasure."

After an intense July and August itinerary, the UK is finally back at a manor house on the outskirts of London.

He left the suitcase at the door, and the elf approached nervously, telling him in a low voice that his brothers weren't home.This relieved the tension in the UK a lot.He walked into the living room wearily.

Norway's suggestion made sense, maybe he should ask Mario to help him arrange some time off.He thought casually, looking around the living room.

There is a white ceramic fruit plate on the dining table in the center. On the fruit plate are green apples piled up into hills. The bright green color is shining under the sunlight, as if you can see the aroma overflowing from the fruit.

Britain's eyes widened.

——"The color of the green apple is very similar to your eyes, very beautiful!"

He could still recall the eager compliment he had given Alfred when he first met him.When the American said that, there was a smile in his voice, and the light in his eyes... was love.

Alfred gave his love.

Yingying's shoulders and arms trembled at the same time, he clenched his teeth, strode forward and overturned the plate of fruit to the ground.The fruit plate fell to the ground and burst instantly, and the fruit rolled around. The white ceramic fragments left split afterimages in his emerald green pupils.

ah ah ah ah

Britain stood there gasping for breath, his hands clenched tightly on his collar, the corners of his raised mouth were full of self-deprecation, but his eyes, like green forests, were full of tears.He looked so hopeless that the elves could only hide timidly by the furniture.

These ancient souls have accompanied Britain through the long years. They have seen a lonely England, a depressed England, a depressed England, and a self-pitying England... They can always think of some little magic and witty words to comfort him.But the UK at this time completely overwhelmed them.

Albion, England, British Empire, United Kingdom, Great Britain.

Stupid brother, eyebrow bastard, Mr. England, motherland.

what else.

"Devil! You devil! I don't recognize the incarnation of any country. How can a devil like you be a human being! You don't have human emotions at all!" There is also the title given to him by the hysterical queen of humanity .

Well-intentioned, malicious.

Only there is no "Arthur Kirkland".

That was just his humble code name. No one in this world had ever called him Arthur Kirkland.He never really had this human name.

Everything in that town was a dream, an illusion.It's just the words displayed by the doctor in the report, the imagination and details woven through the deep angular gyrus and precuneus of the brain.

As long as you want to forget, one day you will be able to forget.

Alfred F. Jones, the young man who fell in love with Arthur Kirkland... Let him stay in that dream, stay there forever.

I will be fine.I am from the UK.I am the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.

Britain reached out to wipe the sweat from his forehead and neck, and slowly fell to the ground with a crooked body.He curled up his knees, clasped his arms tightly, and tried his best to restrain his trembling body.

I am the nation, and I do not desire what should not be.

Norway is right that beings like us have no right to be understood.No one should be "Rupert's tears". We are clearly a strong country that cannot be killed by guns and swords, and that cannot be easily destroyed by bacteria or time.

It will not change for decades, hundreds or thousands of years.Always.

Yes, I'll be fine soon.

The sun was blotted out by dark clouds slowly moving into the atmosphere on the outskirts of London, where rain soon returned.

The little unicorn hiding outside the window gently walked around the dilapidated small rose garden. It stood outside the window and stared at the motionless England on the floor.The raindrops slid down against the window, looking through the glass, like tears falling down the pale cheeks of the English youth.The little unicorn pressed its horns against the window and neighed softly.

Not far away, the bells of the church rang, and the sound of metal impacts startled flocks of white pigeons. They fluttered through the rain curtain, eagerly looking for another peaceful shelter, and soon disappeared in the gray rain. trace.