Where Winter Meets Summer (Rusame Countryhumans)

The Time is Now

(Nobody POV)

The morning of July the Fourth started more chaotically than usual. First off, there was the hustle and bustle of the servants in the house, all preparing for the party that would happen later that night. Then there was the paparazzi. Every journalist, news show and fanclub in a twenty kilometer radius had shoved themselves into the front lawn of the White Manor. It was America's birthday and the world was not shy about reminding him.

The first thing that greeted America was his phone. Thousands of pings, messages and calls had come in to wish him a happy birthday and thousands of others requesting him to talk shows and such.

"Not gonna happen," thought the Superstar. He shut down the device and sent his butler and guards to deal with the insufferable crowd, leaving him free to have his morning meal in relative peace.

He entered the dining hall where a new intricately carved table stood with a lavish birthday breakfast set upon it. A basket of fresh flowers were placed next to a card that read;

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! Bro, we love you and we hope that you never forget that fact. Enjoy your breakfast! We all helped make it.

ps: mom made most of it.

pps: Australia handled the maple syrup. We don't want you getting diabetes on your birthday right? Canada wasn't happy.

A touching gesture made his day that much more enjoyable yet he still felt strangely wearisome for the night to come. He needed to take his mind elsewhere and he did have a place in mind. America was aware that leaving the residence through the front door would be the equivalent to a death wish because of the feisty people so he put his secret childhood tunnel to use. It was the tunnel that aided in his escape to the flourishing woods just beyond the hill on rough days. It would be where he wandered when he needed appeasement.

It had been quite a while since he'd been there. Yes, the grass was taller and more unkempt. Yes, the old treehouse looked a bit more haggard. But most of everything was the same as he had remembered. Chirps and skitters could be heard through the lively yet peaceful thicket and a slight gust helped the blooms that dotted the ragged dirt path dance. The trees were old and statuesque but perhaps the heart of the beauty lay in the center of a small clearing. A small lake where a petite 3 foot tall waterfall set water from the creek above to rest. The giant trees created a canopy out of leaves, only allowing fragments of light in. This absence of sunshine only made the flickering fireflies that hovered in the air seem more beautiful.

America sat on a fallen log by the water's edge and sighed. It was funny how easily people could forget the brilliance mother nature provided in the first place. Sure, city lights and grand castles were fine but a natural masterpiece was even more priceless nowadays.

A leaf drifted down and landed in the palm of the country who then picked it up, examining every little detail as it fluttered helplessly in the wind.

It was a thoughtful and quiet side to the normally reckless and spirited individual. One that rarely ever showed itself to anyone else.

America's mood suddenly changed to something a bit more worrisome. A small mocking smile twisted his lips into a devilish sneer, "You and I are not so different, except that you are weak. And frail. And... pathetic."

A small flame lit upon his fingertip; far enough that it would not destroy the leaf but close enough so that it could just barely graze it. "There. I'll allow you to stare death in the face. How does it feel? Do you believe you're so special now?" he jeered.

Yes, it was peculiar for him to be talking to a leaf, but in his mind, his unsteady and fragmented mind that seemed to be held together by bare threads, he saw his former self. So he was lamenting about his past or something of that sort. The more he stared, the more disdain he felt and the more disdain he felt, the more the fire grew until it sputtered onto the leaf; tearing blackening holes through the delicate green tapestry. The fire was not done yet, for it was hungry for more. A glowing drop landed on the grass and began to eat at it. America didn't care. He sat there staring into space.