Japan remembered the moment he released the first set of bombs. He remembered how they blasted across the small island, causing a thick, black cloud to rise over the otherwise clear sky. A wicked pleasure rushed through his entire body, causing a sneer to spread across his lips as he watched chaos engulf the islands several hundred miles below his aircraft.

Yes, he remembered how close he was to slaughtering everything in his path to imperial power. But in an instant, excitement turned to terror. The chance to remove the last threat to his conquest had quickly approached him, but he felt it slip away as an unfamiliar human emotion stabbed at his heart and tightened his gut.

Japan recalled those actions, which occurred only hours before his current situation. It was a moment in which he began his vicious attack that would seal his dominance in the Pacific. But that moment had too soon fled from his grasp.

Now, he sat motionless in his seat at the head of his plane, staring down at the controls while focusing on nothing. His mind filled with questions and thoughts that continued to belittle him: Why didn't you finish the job? Why did you hesitate? Didn't you want to bring destruction to him? You had the opportunity to defeat him even before he ever had the chance to fight back. Why didn't you ruin him?

He sucked his teeth and got out of his plane, standing before it in absolute frustration. He felt sick thinking back at his lost opportunity to rain terror on America. A thick, heavy weight grew deep inside his gut, boiling and threatening to burst his veins and spill out of his body. He slammed his hands against the steel bird, cold and dark like the monster lurking in the depths of his soul.

Damn him. America always brought him complications that never should have existed in the first place. But those blue eyes, bright like the clear morning sky, haunted his mind endlessly. They were like the Pacific sky moments before the onslaught of Japan's aerial attack. He shuddered. No one else taunted him in this way. But when America was by his side, there was a surge of overwhelming happiness that claimed every cell in Japan's body. It was a feeling that scared him in the beginning, but now it disgusted him. He wanted to tear out his insides until that parasitic emotion was completely out of his system. He clenched his teeth at the reminder of his silent affection for the other nation—at how utterly pathetic he became in America's presence.

And that smile—it wasn't the kind that condescended him. It wasn't like the fake smiles worn by those pompous Europeans, who bore their smiles to trick others and take from them what was never rightly theirs. America's smile brought a foreign feeling to Japan; it soothed his internal war and calmed his torn mind. He hated that feeling. It was a genuine and kind smile—one that filled him with the urge to reciprocate that smile with his own. It threatened to strip away his mask, his only barrier from the cruel world. He absolutely loathed it, yet it once again plagued his thoughts as he aimed to erode the very center of America's growing military prowess.

Heh, how despicable. How could he so easily turn his back on the only person who had shown him respect? How could he aim to kill the one person that had brightened his life on so many occasions? How could he bring himself so close to hurting the one and only person who truly made an effort to know him, to be his friend, to make him happy? But then, Japan had always known he wasn't capable of returning any sort of human affection toward another person. He destroyed everything sacred to him. It was inevitable; he knew from the start that he would eventually sever the precious bond he shared with America.

He looked with disgust at his reflection in the metal wall of his plane. A twisted smile formed on his lips, but his eyes showed... was that sadness? He slowly slid his hands off the wall, standing up straight with his head held high in imperial arrogance. His face no longer portrayed a contortion of pain and pleasure; it became blank and emotionless, the mask he had to wear eternally.

Besides, he had a duty to his emperor, to his people, and to himself. Lingering on about worthless thoughts was a waste of time and a sign of weakness. He knew very well that America would declare war against him after his attack on Pearl Harbor. Japan needed to prepare for the inevitable battle against this foe, and he needed to prepare to destroy America if necessary.

America.

An empty pain filled Japan's chest. He couldn't destroy Pearl Harbor in its entirety when he had the chance, so what made him think he could fight against America without hesitation? He knew his pathetic feelings would have to change. He would force them to change. He had no choice. He had to believe he hated America… he had to make himself believe that America did not matter to him anymore.

A/N: I managed to post yet another story. o.o;; I hope whoever reads this story likes it!

A little bit of history about this particular story...

During the attack at Pearl Harbor, Japan had three specific targets: the battleships, the aircrafts, and the oil reserves. When you think about the U.S. and its growing industries at the time, oil was a major concern for the U.S. because it fueled the economy (no pun intended). The importance of oil for America grew during WW2 and continued to boom throughout the Cold War; today, as you all may know, oil is a big factor for America.

Thus, if the Japanese attacked the oil reserves at Pearl Harbor, America would have been severely crippled. Oil was needed to fuel its battleships, aircrafts, factories, cars-you name it.

The Japanese successfully destroyed several of the battleships at Pearl Harbor, but they didn't attack the oil reserves. This fact has many scholars questioning why Japan didn't just take America out of the picture completely. There are a lot of factors to look at when trying to determine what the reason was, and not all records have been released that will allow historians to have solid theories as to why the Japanese didn't attack the oil reserves.

Of course, this is the world of Hetalia, so I took history into my own hands. :P