Not Valiant Enough
---------by Perdendosi
World War II, and the world is on fire.
Alfred groans into his fist as Kiku orders another group of kamikazes into his navy.
"You son of a bitch," he barely growls out. "Didn't I fucking tell you that America isn't going to enter this hellhole of a war?!"
Kiku merely smiles, a chilling, cruel smile that is bone-deep. "Your refusal was what caused it, you know. I never had any intention of destroying 'Great America'."
"Bullshit." Alfred replies. He bares his teeth as he struggles to keep his thoughts coherent. He's furious, disgusted, betrayed, oh fuck oh fuck I'm screwed fuck it Japan, oh fuck oh fuck, why the fuck are you doing this--
In a fit of rage, Alfred stand up from his black-leather chair. He runs to Japan who sits in the opposite side of the conference table and grabs his arm.
Kiku merely looks contemplative as he stares at his arm. Shrugging, he rises from his seat.
The mahogany floor creaks slightly under the two men.
Alfred grabs Kiku's small stature and throws Japan into a brutally-strong, almost-cruel embrace.
"Remember this, Japan," Alfred says as his mouth closes into the nape of his ear. "You'll regret everything you did today. Everything you ever did, everything you even thought of doing to us--we'll give it back tenfold."
With this, Alfred moves away from Kiku's ear and slithers downward to his pale-pale neck, throwing butterfly kisses carelessly as his fury turns to lust, and he wants him he wants to kill him but he wants to keep going down, down, down--
Alfred throws all his care unto the wind and ghosts over to Kiku's chin and moves to his lips, in which he captures into a kiss. His hands shift and now one hand is on the back of Kiku's head, and the other arm is slung around Kiku's small waist.
As things get more heated, Alfred's mind clicks back in place.
What the fuck am I doing? Why the hell isn't Japan fucking stopping me?
Something clicks, and he understands.
"Sorry about that," he says after a moment's trepidation. "I just...lost it."
Kiku bows slightly. "It's fine." As Japan twirls away from broken-lost-America, he looks over from his shoulder. "See you at the battlefield."
With that statement, Japan walks out of the room, his polished-leather shoes resonating across the floor.
He loathes Japan, he says to himself after Kiku leaves his conference room. He hates every inch of Kiku's tantalizingly-pale skin, his soft tresses of silky-black hair, and his body.
He loathes everything about Kiku, about Imperialist Japan to no end. He swears to his God that he'll win this war.
----------
Not too far away from where he stands, Alfred makes out a small white figure that stands alone.
His breath hitches in his throat.
Kiku.
There's still a ghost of a smile splayed upon his face, Alfred realizes. It's subtle and almost-transparent, but there are remnants of one splayed on Kiku's tantalizingly-pale skin.
He gulps.
Closing his eyes as if shielding his conscience, Alfred throws Big Boy and Fat Man at Kiku.
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They told him that Kiku suffered from third-degree burns, along with gashes and injuries that shouldn't be spoken of.
It's a dirty tactic he resorted to, Alfred thinks. But it was a valiant cause, a valiant reason, a valid cause and effect that had to take place in order for them to win the war.
But why does he regret it so much?
--------------------
The next time Alfred meets Kiku, he smiles weakly.
He wants to embrace him, to apologize his heart out, cry, sob, do unspeakable things to him-
Kiku bows slightly, and Alfred smiles a bit. That's what Kiku had done when he had kissed him, embraced him, held onto him--
-but he knows that it's what he did wrong.
It was a valiant reason, but the effect isn't valiant enough.
Alfred chokes back a sob as he smiles at the Allied powers.
Author's Note: It was a weird idea that popped up inside my head xD;;
Read and review, please!
edited: 10-14-2009