Cadenza
By Ryukansen
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Author's Notes: Because I am also a hard fan of Japan and America I have taken some time to do this one-shot. I have been studying some author's descriptive works and I hope I'm able to convey lots of emotion through this piece. Thanks for reading! Read & Review please!
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Lately, he had begun to fancy the violin despite what others may think. It had an unusual, lethargic but vibrant sound that always seemed to please him whenever he decided to pick it up and play a song from Mozart or Tchaikovsky. But most importantly to him, all the tunes he got to make with the bow and the instrument, itself, nearly always made him calm down after a day of work turned stressful or just if he felt overwrought and helpless with the rest of the world.
It was one of those times he felt the latter that he played the instrument meaningfully to calm himself down.
Hands resting in position and chin snuggled in the holder, the young American would always close his eyes and find himself lost in a musical reverie. Alfred wasn't sure what song he was playing this time though, but he always seemed to end up making his own variation from passed musical successes. His mind was slowly registering that he was indeed performing the Nocturne Op 9 No. 2 by Chopin.
That was all it took to ease him from his own agonizing reality as he slowly seduced himself to a more beautiful world through the works of the magical melody. Fingers gently pressing against the appropriate chords, and his dominant hand softly commanding his bow was all he needed to do to listen to the wonderful sound he was producing.
The echoing tune softly hummed low as he strode his bow gracefully against the strings of the violin. His long, fragile fingers pressed hard on the chords and expertly explored the appropriate letters as he closed his eyes inhaling the soft incense of lavender from his burning candles.
The day would have ended up perfectly if he could just finish the song, but lately it had become a rare occasion.
A few seconds pass by with the blissful, solitary moment until the twelve o' clock tune had started to ring the Big Ben's famous chime and he ,upon hearing it, had decided to stop with a sigh from the interruption.
Alfred looked up, hesitantly, in the corner of his office and found a medium sized clock against his wood paneling, continuing to ring out London's most famous tune with a gleeful note. His shoulders slump as he placed the instrument back down into it's velvety, raven case and takes a quick note to ask someone to change the song out of frustration.
That tune wasn't healthy for him. He had no time to listen to the more happier, foreign and loose sound. It just didn't feel right, for him, not now, at least.
His heart was pounding with a heavy bitterness as his eyes traveled around the familiar room and landed on a half-written note on his desk. His blue pools continued to stare at it with an anxious feeling swelling in his chest as he strode over across the office to complete his daily business.
It was a well-written letter (1_ to say the least. It was a soft, creamy parchment that was as thin between his fingers and very fragile to begin with. Perfect calligraphy was etched with enough ink, and the royal seal was embedded in gold and silver near the rough edges of the paper; marking it's official purpose.
He never understood why he had always had to make such heartfelt documents in order to appease with that man, and yet, he found the task his only savior to continue their relationship from time to time.
In fact it had become a common savior these days.
It was never his fault to begin with, he mused, and yet he always found himself in the brink of apologizing despite the situation.
Alfred nearly found himself addicted to apologizing to Arthur, as if it was some sort of natural habit, and yet, he knew he had to stop soon.
He knew he shouldn't ever apologize to a man who had kept him imprisoned with every morsel of his being, and then after gaining his freedom, still had a leash around his heart.
Hell, the man still even partly surveyed him through the ocean's vastness. His Royal Navy was always there, he had to remind himself. The 85 battle ships cautiously staring at his land with what seemed like a predator's leer about to hop on the rabbit that had managed to escape his claws more than once. He was always there, Alfred knew it.
His heart ached, and he continued to finish the letter of confirmation with those trembling hands which, seconds later, used to produce that beautiful melody.
He would not be in the same situation again, he chanted.
Alfred knew how it was still plausible for the man to even take him back in his arms with the Royal Navy he possessed.
Because he knew how fierce the man's claws where. How much, he knew, the other ached to dent his flesh with all his fervor and lick his wounds up as if he had done nothing.
And yet it was torture to the both of them.
Upon completing the letter with a dissatisfied look, America softly folded it up and placed it into an envelope; scribbling down the receiver's name and address. He then placed it back neatly onto his desk, gazing at it as he walked backwards, and absentmindedly chose to pick the violin up once more.
His eyes close, and his hands begin to move freely as he then began to sadly play a music score he had recently received with new lyrics from a Sir Francis Scott Keys. (2)
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"America, your assignment is to help open up the Japanese ports into trading with us." Was the first words he received from his boss as soon as he stepped into the oval office.
He had walked into the middle of Mozart's Violin Concerto No 1, and stopped in the middle of the room as he traveled halfway.
Fatigue washed over him as he gazed half-lidded at the president with a mere frown plastered onto his pale, cheeky face. His hair was tousled, his suit was by far one of the most crumpled it had ever been, and his newly acquired frames presently slid half-down the bridge of his nose as he gazed in protest at the news.
"This is important, America." Sighed the man as he gazed at the breaking youth in front of him. Alfred knew quite well, that the president knew the turmoil he was undergoing. His heart beat in different levels of emotion as he ran a hand through his head out of sheer habit. The brown eyes locked onto his with a contemplative stare. "I know what you're going through…but we need to show how strong we are - instead of how weak we are - to the world." The man replied standing up, and patting him on the shoulder in understanding.
"You'll be alright. The United States of America will prevail." He ended the conversation, while joining in with another group of politicians in a heated argument.
The Big Ben's chime sounded off once again, and America's eyes travel back to a Grand Clock playing the good, old English tune, rudely interrupting Mozart's violin piece.
His heart nearly withers hearing that small, innocent tune.
And all of a sudden, his blue eyes widened as he felt a surge of panic break through him, again. His teeth clashed amongst one another, as he took the side of a wall and leaned himself against it in a panicked motion. His mouth frowned as he could taste his own blood spill from his mouth.
Hands trembled beneath the hard surface of the paneling, and his knees felt like they were giving in.
He thought maybe it was a good time to relax somewhere else for a while. He closes his eyes as he listens to Mozart's composition a little longer.
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Bland gray. That was the color of the sky at that time. That inconsolable gray that had penetrated through the expansive sapphire sky and that had consumed all precious feelings without a second thought. It was a menacing color that would only remind him of the worst days; especially when droplets started spewing.
And yet, it was also the color that was present when a new world was unlocked right in front of his eyes.
In the end that gray turned into the various colors of the rainbow.
Three iron ships.(3) That was what it took for him to realize how far behind he was with the rest of the world. And one man. That was what all it took to make him realize his potential.
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It had all started in the frosty morning, in the port of Uraga. He had continuously been receiving alarming reports that three black ships were on their way, causing turmoil to his people the closer they got.
His hands trembled as he followed his translator and clutched desperately on his jacket while trying to warm himself up with his free hand.
The black ships had just docked from what he could see; and his eyes quickly landed on a nation he had never seen before.
Blue daring eyes, confident and happy searched tiredly around the area with nothing but a sour smile. Blonde hair draped carelessly around his forehead; and a nicely pressed western suit clad his musculature as he stepped onto the harbor while peering around the native land.
Their eyes met suddenly; and as if it was by instinct, the man began to walk towards him in a dignified aura.
As they neared proximity; the blonde gazed at him with a heartbroken smile as he delved a hand through his messy mane and gazed at the nation in front of him with a pleading stare.
"Hello, nice to meet you. I am the United States of America." He replied formally with the grin almost falling off his face as he winced a little in pain.
He took his hand and tried smiling his best.
"But you can just call me Alfred."
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"You alright?" Asked the tired voice that softly whispered into his ears, as he fluttered his eyes open to catch a glimpse of sapphire pools. "Don't worry, if your tired, you can just rest." America responded as he padded the soft strands of Japan's hair with a gloved hand. His glasses shined as the sunlight took a glimpse at it; causing it a glare and smudging the man's blue pools from existence.
"I-I didn't think it would be this difficult." Stammered the nation as he clutched onto his futon while feeling a headache beginning. He breathed in discomfiture as he attempted to get up; but his body ached so much, he felt as if he couldn't walk anymore.
"That's what always happens when your people are fighting with each other, you know?" Responded the American, lazily. (4)
Japan took notice that America was also having a hard time, as he stared absentmindedly at the sunrise forming between two prominent hills. His blonde hair was messy; and dark round bags formed underneath his precious baby blue.
He knew all about internal strife, didn't he? Was what Japan thought as he gazed at the heartbroken figure.
Silence passed through and the two nations did absolutely nothing as the sun started to pick up its speed and land into the clouds; high above. Japan sat up while eating a small portion of his breakfast; a small bowl of freshly made rice with egg and soy sauce was enough for him. On the other hand, America had completely ignored his own meal and was sitting out in front of the porch while whistling a tune.
It was a rather sad song; from what he understood; as he managed to capture silvery tears flowing down the cheek of the American.
"What song is that, America-san?" Japan asked as he set his bowl down in a mat while gazing politely at Alfred who had stopped the tune with a quick intake of breath.
A sad smile graced his pink lips as he let out bashful stare.
"To Anacreon in Heaven." (5) He replied with a laugh of sarcasm as he walked back inside to gather up the plates and give them to the maids.
Japan stared confused as the American left without further words.
As hours passed by, the nation decided to go looking for the other (who had apparently left him all alone in his room) and Kiku stops as he finds Alfred in the middle of the dining room; playing the same song in an instrument he had brought over.
It screeched all the pain.
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"Wow you're progressing real quickly." (6) The American observed as he surveyed the land that was already in industrialization. After quick months of opening the Japanese Ports to the world, Japan had become one of the most ideal trading centers for western countries to land on. "It's amazing." Breathed Alfred as he watched a Japanese crew hoard down a huge case of goods. On the crate was labeled ,in silver etching, "British Imports."
His eyes gloss a bit, and he bites his lips as he fidgets in his place. Kiku stares at him in wonder.
"Come let's take a look at what they're doing over there, instead." The American smiled warmly while pulling his hands with a tight tug.
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There were numerous times when America could be romantic, Japan mused, as he sat on a bench beside the American in front of the moonlit Lily Pond. Alfred was stroking his arm as they peered at the dark reflection emitted by the moonlight; and a small smile graced his lips; however, tired he had seemed.
America was fully recovering; blabbering about a reconstruction of some sort in his country after waves of fighting have been crashing amongst his people. He had told him there had been a lot of civil unrest; and yet, he decided to see the other nation for comfort and for political purposes, of course.
Kiku couldn't help but stroke his soft, peachy cheek, and bite his lower lip as he closed his eyes to see nothing but pitch black.
He could hear the rustle of movement America was struggling with; and as he kept his eyes closed, the moment he opened them the American leant down to give a chaste kiss.
It was quick, and seemed barely like a shadow in the night; but in the end it was there.
Soft, gleaming blue eyes happily smiled towards him; for him, just for that one time. "It's late, let's go back."
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Sometimes America would be too busy to come over and visit him; and he knew full well how busy the fledgling nation was with the other countries ready to burst out with protest or help.
Japan found himself a little vulnerable after being found open to the world; and despite all of the contacts he was able to make he couldn't help but feel some impending doom about his situation.
Lately Russia was eyeing his territories with interest; and he could feel a surge of panic writhing inside him whenever the big man came to look at the land with ideas in the back of his head.
He was still new to the sudden threat that he had immediately sent out his own men to protect the peninsula nearby him. Russia wanted the warm water ports; he speculated, but he would not have it.
He was tired of being exhausted.
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When America came to visit; the exhaustion was still written in his blue eyes and for a while Kiku had to ask what had happened.
He inquired about it to the American, but Alfred was so evasive on the question. The young man only wanted to be with Japan for a week to calm his nerves down. Kiku realized he was heartbroken again.
"But, let's not dwell on the past, right, America-san?" Kiku asked after, hoping to break the silence. Alfred nodded, wanting to be optimistic as well as he held tightly onto Japan's soft arm.
"I heard about you and Russia," (7). He softly murmured with proud eyes. "You were amazing." He concluded, and shut the sapphire pools away from him while listening to Satie's Gymnopedie No. 1.
Kiku stared at the American lying down on his lap; breathing softly as the blue pools gazed up at the ceiling of bamboo thatches. "Maybe it was the right thing to do…" He whispered to himself with an aching heart. "To let go of the boy…" (8).
Kiku couldn't help but bite his lower lip as he faced the heartbroken American. It was too painful for him to see the young man always exhausted. He softly cried as he kissed Alfred's forehead out of impulse. But nevertheless, despite the silver drop falling on the American's eyelids, did the American continue to gaze at the closed sky.
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Alfred had left too soon, and Kiku found himself lonely as ever. He gazed out at the ships ready to leave; and only waved at the blonde with less enthusiasm as the American.
"I'll visit soon." The man replied lovingly as he stood near the rail of the iron ship while giving his last farewell.
The ship docked out, and in a matter of minutes was slowly disappearing in the horizon.
With Alfred slowly leaving; Kiku understood the heavy aching pounding near his chest.
Upon leaving the port he could feel a strange wind blow pass him. His heart fluttered at the strange sensation, but he did not know what to expect from it.
Sliding the shoji door open, the young man gazed inside the empty house with equally void eyes. A spark of light flashed however, as he gazed at the violin Alfred had been playing with the moment he arrived.
Walking towards the violin; the nation smiled with brimming tears.
"I'll be back to come after this!" Read the simple note.
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He waited. And waited, and waited. Hoping to see the American again even if it was only a few days that passed. To him, it was like years, and he still kept himself busy, but it felt so long without the American's presence.
He kept clutching onto the violin on his lap, his heart losing hope whenever weeks started to pass by lazily. Biting his lower lip he wondered what the American was up to? What was Alfred doing right now?
He gently lay near the entrance of the porch while gazing at the spring morning. It was a profound sadness that leaked into the atmosphere that kept him from positive thinking despite the blissful area surrounding him.
Drips of mildew flopped energetically yet sluggishly from the evergreens in the planted pine and oaks. It had finished down pouring rain and he could smell the nature, itself, springing inside his own home.
His fingers still lay near the chords of the violin as he strummed it gently. The bow was somewhere off in the distant near the kotetsu, and his eyes never seemed to batter or blink as he awaited for that one person.
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He didn't know what happened between them. But Alfred had been ignoring him for the last few years - and he felt his heart sink whenever he got a chance to see those blue eyes smiling at him with nothing but pure joy.
It was a cheerful feeling for Alfred, but it was completely depressing for Kiku. He had never seen the man so happy; so unafraid and so…energetic, whatever must have befallen the American was the source of all his woes.
As he sat down behind the desks of an international conference he found a couple of nations in complete distress as they discussed about their politics, economies, and whatnot that were becoming signs of a recession.
One country, was in particular turmoil as he burst into the room exclaiming and pointing angrily at one nation with all his fervor (9). He had a red face; and his hair was not in it's usual tidy place. A mole lay on the lower left of his lips and rimmed glasses framed his hazel nut eyes. He was angry; and baffled, and demanded retribution. The other countries gazed at him with bewilderment before starting to fight; and ignoring the other countries who wanted to stop it all.
Japan sat there motionless and soon found himself joining in as a strict blonde came towards him with a tight frown.
He didn't know why, but Germany had some sort of air around him that made him settle down with ease. The young German was strict, wealthy, and very healthy that it made him feel secure. Ludwig had promised unending incentives that made his heart tweak a bit, until he finally accepted their union (10).
The German also introduced a bubbly Italian who was supposed to be their ally as well, and the young brunette was very flowery which made Kiku seem a bit more calm with all the tension ensuing around them.
Deep down though, he wanted America to see him in their close group of friends. He wanted America to envy him.
But all he got was nothing of that sort.
As he peered through the corner of his eyes; he found the slender Blonde talking with a bashful smile towards the one known as England.
The smaller male was thin, and had peachy skin. He had sandy locks, and emerald eyes. But the most prominent feature were his eyebrows.
The American was talking to the Briton with a mixture of emotions Kiku had never seen before. He was happy and lively, and sometimes disappointed or upset, but most of all the nation could read that America was madly in love with England.
That was what he thought that crushed him.
It was like a flow of depression that made his knees struggle to stay put; as he gazed at the American staring lovingly at the Briton nearly screaming his head off at him.
So that was what Alfred had been doing? He had been frolicking with another man? So that was it? He was nothing to America. Absolutely nothing? His hands squeezed tightly; nails digging crescent shapes into the edge of his white palm.
Alfred's blue eyes were calm; and the Briton seemed to have settled down. Without another second the American took the Briton's chin and gave a passionate kiss before the other reciprocated back.
It was like an arrow through his heart.
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The moment he came back home he wished he never settled his eyes on the violin lying down on the coffee table. His chestnut eyes fell on them as he stared in betrayal at it with a frustrated sigh.
He wanted to break it, but alas it wasn't his to destroy. His hands twitched as he passed by the god awful item, and he took long strides to enter the kitchen and make himself a cup of tea.
But as soon as he entered the room he could find none. What was wrong with him? He usually had green tea in a helpful amount? Why did he not replenish it? He was getting angry in every second. His brown eyes seemed to be tearing up as he wiped them to no avail while biting his lower lip until they bled.
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What made Alfred a bit depressed was how the Japanese nation never spoke to him ever since his last departure.
He knew how bad he was to not have written of anything to the poor boy; but his sudden relationship with England grew on him as he and his lover's people began to see eye to eye for once, in a lifetime. He was completely pleased; and so was Arthur, but deep down somewhere in his heart ached a painful remorse ringing, echoing with a bad sound.
His own hands twitched and he wanted to play something; anything, but those days were long gone by now and he could see the music sheets already fading in the back of his mind. Tchaikovsky, Mozart, Satie, and the other musicians were no longer an interest to him in his days of happiness - and yet why did he still urge to play today?
Today was a happy occasion; not a depressing one. He and England were getting back together in what seemed like forever of resentment. He had nearly suffered all his life to wait for this day. And yet, Arthur was disappointed that America had strongly declined any alliances with the Allied Powers (11).
And yet something vile was stuck in the pit of his stomach.
The old radio was on and he twisted the analog stick, putting it on a musical station that favored heavily on the classical strings. Sibelius' Romance piece was playing, and his heart nearly fluttered as he begun to imagine on various dreams of him and England.
All of a sudden all his worries were vanishing as he sat on the leather couch; gazing absentmindedly at the fireplace warming him up.
It was indeed a cold December.
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He didn't know how it happened, but it was a flurry of emotion that made him act on his own accord despite Germany's orders.
He was tired of seeing Alfred happy - despite his long wishes for him to be. He wanted him heartbroken; crawling to him in agony with open arms. He wanted the Alfred he had first laid eyes upon that gray day.
So he did it! He finally did it.
Out of crazed, and uncontrolled emotions he had finally did the closest harm he could do to America. And yet despite the satisfaction flowing through his veins a pang of guilt exploded once he finally met the raging blue eyes that once held sympathy for him.
"What did you do?" (12). Was the hollow words that echoed through the fiery surrounding. Empty eyes stared at him in shock; and a heartbroken figure appeared from the ashes of the base. Kiku wanted to see that sadness; the sadness that had lulled him into those blue eyes. And yet all he could see was plain fury wiping away the fire that had ignited it. "Kiku." Was his small, distraught words before all of a sudden he found himself blind to the light.
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When the Japanese nation woke up; the first thing he saw was the bamboo thatches of his ceiling wall. He could not get up due to the severe pain he was in, and just gazed at the closed sky with regret.
Wrapped in bandages the young nation continued to stare until a noise appeared from the back of his home. He wanted to get up. He wanted to apologize! He wanted to clutch onto the last thread of hope he had.
A small song was playing in the corner of the house where he had last left the violin. His heart is tearing while his mind is screaming for him to get up. He wants to, but he can't! Tears start to well up in his eyes as he called for the person in the other room. The strange song stops, and all of a sudden, footsteps start shuffling farther away from him. He keeps crying and crying with apologies here and there, but the door opens, and closes with a firm shut.
The music was gone and he finds himself crying even louder with pity.
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Several months of recovery; he found America back on his footsteps gazing at the other nation with a new light shining behind his foggy glasses. Alfred was expecting to see the nation up already; but he was still surprised to see Japan gazing at him with an apologetic stare. A small smile graces Alfred's lips as he pats Kiku on the shoulders with approval.
It was only a sign of unrequited love from what Kiku could tell as the American left him to ponder by himself as he helped on with the reconstruction movement.
The nation, all alone, then decided to stare at the violin in the corner of the dining room.
Picking up, he decided to play the last piece to their ending.
Because all along, it was England and America's stage; and he found himself as the soloist completing the end of a tiring romance.
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Reference Notes*
1.) The Treaty of Ghent - the letter America is holding that signaled the end of the War of 1812.
2.)Sir Francis Scott Keyes - Author of the lyrics of the Star Spangled Banner made during the War of 1812 (a war between America in the United Kingdom; after UK began to issue impressment and trading rules during the Napoleonic Wars that was strictly against American International Policy.)
Notice that 1812 is not so long ago from the Independence movement of 1776 in the United States. Because of this, America is always seen as exhausted from a failing relationship with England.
3.) Most famously noted as Commodore Perry's "Black Ships" in Japan. They were big iron clad ships that frightened most Japanese natives during that time since they have never seen anything like it before.
4.) Just around the time of the civil unrest in Japan (The Shinsengumi vs. the Choshu) and battles amongst famous clans, America was also under his own Civil War after arriving in Japan.
5.) To Anacreon in Heaven was the inspiration of the "Star Spangled Banner." America was using it sarcastically because the song was mainly a popular beer song. In this moment America is just missing England's presence.
6.) Japan, after Commodore Perry's arrival had undergone the most alerting and quick industrialization and advancement in history.
7.) Japan-Russo War - The war where Russia was beaten by Japanese forces surprising the world. Japan however used most of it's military force while Russia only used it's boundary forces losing quite nothing compared to the Japanese. This war was for Russia to acquire the Korean peninsula in search of a warm-water port for military strategy.
8.) The Filipino-American War, in which America tried to keep the Philippines under it's own rule until the natives wanted their own independence after being conquered by Spain for quite some time already. In this fan fiction America is feeling the guilt he had made Arthur felt while acquiring his own right as a nation.
9.) Austria is seen bursting through the doors in anger. This signifies the beginning of World War II, when the Austrian-Hungarian Archduke Francis Ferdinand was murdered by a Serbian protestor.
10.) Japan forms a union with Germany after Germany promises to give him back all the land he was promised by the Central Allies. He; however, was dismissed during WWI and left bitter without any promises fulfilled - thus initializing his relationship with Germany.
11.) America's neutrality act in WW2.
12.) The Bombing of Pearl Harbor, then quickly adjusting to the Bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.