Title: Time Limits (1/?)
Series: Axis Powers Hetalia
Pairing: America/England, with various parings in the future
Warnings: This is my first try at an AU Hetalia fic. This is an own little world I've created in the middle of a civil war-- think of it as an alternate reality with a world similar to what WW2 was like technology and culture wise.
Rating: PG (for now) for war-time, battles and language. Use of minimal magic powers. Human names only.
Summary: A country split between North and South caught in the middle of a civil war, two very different childhood friends meet on the battlefield and the emotions and events that lead after that will change both of their futures dramatically.

Arthur Kirkland took a moment to pull at his dark jacket pulled over his deep red uniform, white gloves smudged with dirt from drawing summoning circles along the ground. They'd been at this for hours and it had seemed as though the battle was only just beginning, the sun already at its highest point in the sky.

He walked slowly along the dirt covered ground, his fellow comrades keeping their distance from him. Well he was an 'alchemist,' which meant they usually wanted next to nothing to do with him outside of the battle. The name was ironic really, because what he did was nothing more a weak form of black magic than anything dealing with the equivalent exchange of matter; but who wanted to go in to war bringing along witches and warlocks or what have you. No one, this was supposed to be 'reality,' so the government gave them an improper label, supplied them with the few things they needed on the battlefield and placed them into a regiment with no room for an argument.

He never thought he'd hate this power he'd come into since he was a boy. He remembered playing with drawing different circles, creating little things to amuse that particular boy with bright blue eyes who'd constantly beg him to do more tricks. Arthur considered for a moment whatever happened to that childhood friend of his, it was possible he had moved to the South before the country had split apart in this civil war. That boy would probably hate his little tricks now.

"Alchemist, get your ass over here! The Southern troops are on the move!" The gruff voice of his commanding officer shook him from such melancholic thoughts.

"Yes sir!" He ran forward quickly and knelt on the ground, sketching out a large circle with chalk before placing his hands inside. He mumbled a quick incantation as the circle glowed and a large Gatling gun appeared before him.

He stepped back as men crowed the weapon, loading the gun and screaming out orders. This is how it always went and soon those men would be cursing at him for being so useless as the gun fell apart after about 10 minutes. That was the glitch in these powers him and the other alchemists held; there was always a time limit. The larger and more energy the item took, the quicker it deteriorated.

He had wondered if it was God's way in telling him magic wasn't to be used like this or possibly at all, but he was never a very religious man and decided to blame it on his powers just not being strong enough.

"Kirkland hurry up! We need that trench now!" The loud silvered haired commander barked out him as he turned to run.

"Right away Commander Weillschmidt!" He ran up to the other officer, surveying the area he began drawing out the appropriate circle and gun shots rang in his ears.

"Ha ha ha! I can see them now Kirkland. Their damn blue jackets stick out against burning buildings!"

Arthur just paid him no attention as he finished his job, jumping into the deep trench himself. It was only a little ground manipulation, this would last them a few hours at best. He pulled his pistol out from under his jacket as he ran along behind his fellow soldiers, a hand suddenly falling onto his shoulder.

"You look tired Arthur. Is the Commander pushing you too hard?"

"Oh shut up Francis." He scoffed, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "It just takes a lot of energy to create something like this."

The other man sighed, pushing his gun up on his shoulder. He was about the only one in the whole regiment that seemed half-friendly with the shorter man, but Francis had to wonder if trying to be friends was worth all the rudeness he got in return.

Arthur finally stopped to pull himself out the trench, giving Francis a small wave as he began running to his appointed position on the outskirts of the city. All he had to to was create some distractions, blowing a few building up so the rest of the troops could make a surprise attack; it was nothing he hadn't done before.

There was the sound of a bomb in the distance as he ran close to the building trying to keep himself hidden as much as possible; one never knew when there could be snipers on the look out.

He made a fast turn around a corner, just a little further and he'd be deep enough into the old city to make his first attack.

"Stop!" There was a voice calling out to him then as he ducked into an alleyway and the sounds of footsteps running after him.

"Bloody hell, of all the times!" He cursed to himself as he continued running between the buildings; he wasn't in the mood to die here in this shitty town, that was for sure.

Just as he came to the opening of the street, he watched a blue clad body stop in front of him, gun in position to shoot him dead right there. He stopped, running a gloved hand down the rough side of the building; so this was it. He was going to die like a bitch without doing a damn thing...

"Just put your hands up on your head and walk forward!" The voice sounded young, though the wear of a long battle was obvious as Arthur did as he was ordered, moving towards the street with slow steps.

He stopped as the man motioned him out onto the sidewalk, the hat he was wearing obscuring this face as the gun remained pointed.

"I'm just an alchemist, I don't have any weapons." He spoke slowly and calming; considering his situation. Though there wasn't much he could to with a gun in his face.

After a few moments the taller man lowered his gun and quickly pulled off his cap, revealing bright blond hard and blue eyes hidden behind dirty and slight cracked frames. Why did this feel familiar?

"Ah! You're..." He other man smiled brightly then, cheeks smudged with dirt and gun powder. "Arthur! Is it really you?"

"Uh?" He dropped his hands slowly to his sides, this was weird. He didn't know anyone from the South, so how could this guy know him?

"Don't you remember me? I'm Alfred!"