America was annoyed. England had no reason to be calling him back to Europe at this point. The war was over and he was so done with it all. He wasn't considering going back to isolationism again but being the world's police didn't sound like so much fun anymore. But regardless of how he felt, Truman thought this trip was important, so he went anyway.
So here he was, walking into one of England's hospitals. As he walked through the entrance doors he was greeted by none other than the island nation himself.
"What's up, Iggy?" America asked with forced cheerfulness.
England's face was empty and devoid of emotion. "Come with me," he said. England turned towards a set of doors and led America down several sterile hallways.
England's response worried America. The older nation didn't even comment on his nickname. England always commented on his nicknames. Something was seriously wrong.
"England?" America queried. "What's-"
"This way."
England directed him into another hallway. But this one was different. For starters, the rest of the G8 were there, except for Japan of course. The Asian island had been missing, or at least no one had been able to find or contact him since the bombs had dropped two months ago.
Another difference about this hall was the large glass window set into the wall. China, Germany, and Italy were crowded around it; Russia and France standing awkwardly at the edge. The window in and of itself held no interest - it simply showed the inside of a hospital room - but the patient inside was….
Japan.
America rushed to the window. He pressed his hands up against the glass as if he could use his strength to break his way into the room. He couldn't believe they had finally found him. He immediately felt a small weight lift from his chest. He had been so worried that he had killed Japan with his bombs. Not that his current condition was much better.
The Asian country's skin held no life. He had lost all his normal colors, exchanging them for a strange mixture of grey and green. Red splotches of raw and blistered skin covered his arms and peeked out from beneath his hospital gown.
Aside from the slow rise and fall of his chest, Japan was motionless. That slow movement and the steady beat of the heart monitor were the only indicators that he was alive at all. Japan was essentially comatose.
"-found him two days ago at the border of Hiroshima. After assessing his condition, his bosses immediately shipped him here." England's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
"No one can figure out what's wrong with him though," said France.
"Radiation poisoning," stated Russia with his usual creepy cheer. "From the bombs."
England sighed, as if they had already been over this. "Russia, we can't be certain that radiation from the atom bombs are to blame. We have very little knowledge of the effects of radiation exposure and-"
"He's right," America interrupted. All the nations turned to look at the young superpower. Germany began to demand an explanation, but America continued to address England. "You may not know the effects of radiation but I do." America glanced pitifully back at the comatose Japan. "It may have never gotten this bad for me, but there's no doubt in my mind that that is the effect of an atom bomb."
No one moved at they digested the implications of America's statements. He was the only one who really had any thorough experience with atomic fusion. Russia was begin his own experiments but he wasn't nearly as far along as America. All the Allies remembered the testing days, when America would come in covered head to toe in layers of dark clothing or bandages covering his skin.
Was this what he was hiding under all those layers?
Suddenly all the guilt that had been hanging above America's head came crashing down on his shoulders. This was his fault. Japan was comatose because of his bombs. America knew the devastation it would cause, yet he dropped them anyway.
"You can't take care of him here," America said after a moment. "I'm taking him back to the states with me."
The Axis and China immediately began to protest.
"Absolutely not aru!" exclaimed China.
"This is your fault," Germany stated coldly. "Why would we trust you with him?"
"Ve~! Why would we trust you?" echoed Italy.
"Because my people are the only people who can help him!" America retorted defensively. Why didn't they get that his doctors were the only ones with experience treating radiation poison?
"I'm sure-" China began.
"Enough!" shouted England. Every country fell silent. He took a deep breath and continued. "As much as I loathe to admit it, America is right. He's the only one of us who has the resources to help Japan."
They tried to object once more but England held up a hand to silence them. "I know you don't like it, but do any of your people have the ability to help him?"
Germany and Italy looked at each other in defeat. China refused to meet anyone's eyes.
England nodded in finality, closing the conversation. "America," he said, "call up your President. Japan needs to be back on his feet as soon as possible."
A private plane arrived to pick up America and Japan a few hours later. Japan had not moved except for mild jostling of his gurney during the transport. America stayed with the comatose country the entire time.
All they were waiting for now was the American doctor to finish talking with the British one about Japan's condition and all that hospital stuff. America could care less. His primary concern was figuring out how to relieve the crushing guilt weighing him down.
That was probably a rather selfish goal at the moment, but every time he looked at Japan the guilt would hit him full force.
The doctor arrived and began to take an inventory of Japan's injuries for himself. Moments later the plane began its take off. America pulled a legal pad from the center of the small table he sat at and pulled a pencil out of the pocket of his bomber jacket.
He glanced once more at the sickly nation, and, with new found determination, began to write out his plan for the reconstruction of Japan.
America was sitting in his office in the White House and reading the most current reports on the occupation of Japan. Everything was looking good. Truman had picked a good man to be in charge of the occupation. MacArthur seemed like a good man when America had met the general and the man was doing great in Japan. They had ratified their first constitution earlier today and America was excited to see how it would helped Japan heal. Every new development on the island nation changed the condition of the hospitalized country.
Suddenly, the phone rang. America blinked in surprise. He didn't usually get calls. Well, at least not at work.
"Hello? Alfred F. Jones speaking," he said into the receiver.
"Mr. Jones," a woman on the other end said. "I am calling on behalf of the doctors at Liberty hospital."
"Liberty?" he asked for clarification.
"Yes," she confirmed. "Your friend, Honda Kiku, was admitted here a little over than a year and a half ago and-"
America's heart rate spread up as mild panic settled in. "What happened? Is he okay?" he demanded.
"Yes, sir. He's fine. In fact, he just woke up. The doctor attending to him-"
America dropped the phone and it clattered to his desk. He couldn't believe it! Japan was finally awake! After a year and five months, he was finally awake! He couldn't wait show Japan how well he had taken care of his country during his absence.
"Hello? Hello? Mr. Jones?" came a muffled voice from the phone. "Are you-"
America picked up the phone once more. "Yes, yes. I'm fine. Sorry." He began to shove the reports he was looking at into a nearby satchel. "I'll be coming to see him."
"Wha-Wh-When?" the nurse spluttered anxiously, obviously not expecting this reaction.
"Now. Have a nice day," America said and hung up. He scanned his office one last time, and, finding nothing else that he need to bring, grinned. As he headed out the door and to his car, America whispered to himself, "Don't worry, Japan. The hero's got everything under control."
White.
White was all Japan could see. He was surrounded by empty white nothingness. He had no idea how long he had been here, but it seemed like a long time. Such a long time that Japan worried that he would never leave. He did not want to be trapped in the white forever.
At the moment, he was trying to meditate, however, it was quite... difficult.
No. That wasn't the right word for it. The mediation was not difficult - it was...
Different. That was the word. It was different.
But for the life of him, Japan couldn't figure out why.
That was what he had spent his time in the white trying to figure out. He could still clear his mind. In fact, it was easier to do so here than it had ever been back in the world of color. Here, there were no voices of the Japanese vying for his attention.
Japan's eyes snapped open. That was it.
He couldn't connect with his people!
The Asian country began to panic. What had happened to cause this? What was wrong with him? He had never felt this much fear ever before. Was he-
Was he dead?
Inside the white, the country began to hyperventilate as terror after terror ripped through his thoughts.
Had his boss surrendered? And his country dissolved? Were his people scattered over the earth, so few and far between that there was nothing to connect him to them?
He would almost prefer death to that scenario.
Japan squeezed his eyes shut in fear. He pleaded with the white or whatever deity was keeping him trapped here that when he opened them again, color would fill his vision. He had prayed for this more times than he could count, but every time he opened them the white landscape greeted him. This time, however, he begged not only for color, but that none of the events that plagued his mind had come to pass.
Japan relaxed his shoulders and prepared himself for disappointment. But as he was about to open his eyes, he heard a light and steady beep.
There was no sound in the white.
Japan snapped his eyes open. A pale cream color filled his vision. He nearly cried in relief as he looked around him and saw dozens of colors.
The country felt around in his mind for his people and was overjoyed to to find his connection with them as strong as ever. But soon worry flooded his mind. Something was seriously wrong in his country.
A man and a woman came into the room and Japan froze in surprise. They seemed just as surprised to see him. However, the man quickly recovered and turned to the woman.
"Call Mr. Jones and tell him his friend's awake, would you?" he asked her in an American accent. The woman nodded and left.
The man approached Japan and a sent the country a sympathetic smile. "Hello, I'm Dr. Stevens. I'm going to ask you some questions now. Can you tell me your name?"
Japan almost answered with the name of his country, but caught himself just in time. "Honda Kiku, sir."
"Your birthday?"
"February 11th."
Stevens asked a few more basic questions before the nurse from earlier popped her head inside the room.
"Um, Dr. Stevens?" she asked nervously. The doctor turned towards her and she continued, "Mr. Jones is, uh, coming. Now."
Stevens sighed tiredly. "Alright. Show him in when he get's here." The nurse nodded and left again. The doctor asked a few more questions, gave him instructions to not move around, and then left as well, leaving Japan to his thoughts.
The country attempted to connect with his people once more. He needed to figure out what they were so worried about. However, before he could delve too deeply into any one opinion, America burst into the room.
He was followed by the nurse, who was looking rather frazzled. Japan supposed that was how most people looked after dealing with the high energy country.
America turned to the woman, pulled a sheet of paper out of his pocket, and handed it to the nurse. "Call all the number's on that list. Bill any charges to the White House."
The woman looked stunned, but she nodded and left to do as America asked.
As soon as she was gone, America turned to Japan with a joyous grin.
"Dude! I'm so glad you're awake!" he said cheerfully.
"Hello, America," said Japan. The other country hadn't even been here a minute, but Japan was already getting mixed messages from his people about him. "How are you?"
"Me? I'm great! But that's not important! How are you?"
"I'm fine. Thank you for asking."
America stared at him. The blonde was obviously stunned at his response. "You've been in a coma for over a year, Japan! How are you 'fine'?"
The Asian country blinked. "H-How long?"
"Well we found you," America counted the number out on his fingers, "eighteen months ago, but the doctors say you've been out since August of 1945."
"And what's the date now?" Japan almost didn't want to hear America's response.
"May 3rd, 1947."
Now it was Japan's turn to be stunned. He had probably been unconscious for over twenty months. What had been going on since then? He paled as he thought the question.
Surprisingly, America seemed to realize what was going through his head. "Don't worry about anything, bro. I've been taking care of your country while you were out."
Japan nodded in acceptance before processing the statement and freezing. "You've been doing what?"
America just grinned proudly at him. "I've been fixing everything, Japan! We've rebuilt your economy and-"
"So that's why everyone's afraid of you," Japan murmured.
Unfortunately, America heard him. The superpower's face fell. "What are you talking about? I'm their hero! Everybody loves the hero." America's expression turned angry. "I've been doing everything right, Japan. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be richer than you've ever been!"
Japan recoiled at his harsh tone. America seemed to realize that he was scaring the other nation and took a deep breath. Once he was sufficiently calm, he reached into a bag he had brought with him. When he pulled his hand back out, he was clutching several pieces of paper.
"Here." America held out the papers and Japan accepted them gingerly.
The Asian country began to scan the pages, reading quickly. As he read, shock, joy, and horror filled him. Horror at different it was from his ancient ways. Joy at the fact that his people were finally moving forward. And shock that any of the Japanese would actually agree to it.
"Wh-What is this?"
"Your new constitution. It was ratified earlier today."
A new constitution? "Did Americans write this?"
America blinked. "Sort of..." At Japan's sigh, America continued hurriedly "But it was only because your emperor was being difficult! We tried to take the Meiji Constitution into consideration too!"
Japan was surprised at that last statement. He would never have thought the American's considerate enough to try to incorporate his last constitution into a new one.
"We did base a lot of it on our own but I made sure that everyone was going to be treated fair," America continued. "And-"
"You helped write this?" Japan asked.
"Yeah. Me, Courtney, and Milo did most of the drafting." America almost seemed embarrassed at the statement. "I wanted to make sure that all the Japanese got the same basic human rights as my people. Or at least try."
Japan looked at America. The country was slumped in his chair, exhausted and relieved at the same time. Exhausted because he had poured so much time and energy into this constitution and relieved that it actually passed. The Asian country felt a sudden guilt at giving America such a hard time about the whole endeavor.
"America," said Japan quietly. The other country's head rose slowly to meet Japan's gaze. "Arigato."
Thank you.
A/N: So there's that. I've wanting to write that since before I did Pearl Harbor.
Also, I claim no historical (or medical) accuracy. If I got something wrong, live with it. It's Hetalia for goodness sake! However...
Most of the specific details of this are true!
Courtney Whitney and Milo Rowell were the main drafters of the Japanese post-war constitution. The constitution was ratified on 3 May, 1947. The Meiji Constitution was a real thing and the American writers really did take it into consideration in their draft. The statement about the emperor being difficult is true as well. General Douglas MacArthur was in charge of the Occupation of Japan and Truman was president. Many of the things America mentions to Japan about the reconstruction were goals of America at the time.
Private passenger planes existed as well.
The only thing that might be out of period is the heart monitor, but I gave up searching for conclusive evidence for that after 15 minutes of research.
Things that are definitely untrue:
The personification of America did not help write the Japanese constitution, nor does he own a private plane. Dr. Stevens is completely made up. Japan's medical condition is also made up because I don't really want to ever find out what radiation poisoning looks like! (So DON'T put it in a review!) Depictions of the bombs and such is probably incorrect as well.
Anyway! Thanks for reading!