A/N: I've watched five of Quentin Tarantino's films and I enjoyed the style with which they were done enough for my fingers to itch. When I scrached that itch, I got a Hetalia fic. For those of you that are unfamiliar with Tarantino, his films are known for their violence and moments of light humor coupled with his unique method of presentation. This is my attempt to replicate that method unto this fandom. Remember, this is not a crossover with any of his films!

Chapter 01- New Toy

August 6, 1945

The summer in Japan was hot, but tolerable. Outside Kiku Honda's home, Alfred F. Jones was bending around obstacles in the yard in combat uniform. As it was morning, it was a horrible time to be carrying out a mission where utmost discretion was pivotal to the success of it. But he needed the sun to see where he was going and primarily, to find his target.

Entering the house from a side door near the garden, Alfred slowly proceeded by placing one foot before the other to lessen the noise his boots created when they made contact with the hardwood floors.

Not too long ago, the need for creeping around would have been unnecessary. Alfred would have used the front door like any other civilized human being and taken off his shoes before entering in observance of Honda's hygiene preferences. But frankly, this wasn't a friendly visit. No, it was far from it.

No one would come to save Honda. Germany and the rest of Europe were beaten to a pulp and unable to get himself back up again without the help of the Allies. The war had ended over there. But it was still raging on in this region. Alfred had secured the help of the rest of the Allies, but the brunt of the work would fall on him to finish it all. He was Captain America after all.

Alfred's back ached from the constant crouching. Leaning against a wall, he took a quick rest and replayed a certain event that had led him here.

In his hands he held a weapon he'd been told would end it all.

When Alfred had heard that, it took much effort from whooping for joy in front of his commanders. The strategy of hopping from island to island throughout the war had proven costly and difficult and after more than three years and all that work, he was finally within range of Japan to be able to snipe his home whenever he was ordered to.

With the mainland so close and Okinawa his, it was only a matter of time before the order came.

"Alfred, the time has come to end this war."

Boss took a swig of his brand and sighed. "Japan in all its history has never been successfully invaded. The Mongols got close, but they failed."

Boss paused to lean back before neatly cupping his hands to assume a serious demeanor. "What I'm trying to say here, son, is that we aim to be the first."

Alfred was slow on the uptake. Slowly, but surely, his eyes widened. "Are you crazy?" His said in a piqued voice. "That would take forever! Have you seen them fight?" He demanded, "Have you seen them up close? Those sons of bitches never stop trying to kill us!" He slammed his fist on Boss's table, filling the room with the tinkering sound of ice cubes hitting their glass container.

"We are well aware of that, Jones." Boss addressed him calmly and used his last name to remind him of his position, "Operation Downfall is scheduled to begin in October and it's going to be a helluva fight since doesn't take a genius to know from where we'll be coming to invade… given the geography."

Alfred grimaced. The only question to ask now was how many. "Heavy casualties?"

"Yes," his boss replied sadly. "Heavy."

There was a silence as Alfred got his mind around the idea that he would have to spend yet another year away from home to continue fighting.

"We've prepared 500,000 Purple Hearts in advance."

At this, Alfred flinched as removed his glasses roughly and pinched the bridge of his nose to keep the tears from flowing.

He was a hero.

He would not cry.

He would not cry.

"There will also be civilian casualties," his boss spoke, "The numbers are dependent on how many decide to join the resistance, which, judging from your reports will likely be high."

Alfred nodded and cleared his throat. He refused to wipe the little water that had bypassed his will-power as it would be a sign of weakness he had no desire to show and one Boss had no desire to see.

" I understand."

Boss stood up from behind the desk and offered him a glass of rum, which he took eagerly. His shoulder was patted sadly several times and no words were spoken after that. Alfred left the base and with a heavy heart, returned to help Arthur and Wang force Honda out of Burma's home.

Alfred hoisted himself of the wall and continued his trek through the house, careful to avoid the sunlight streaming through the many windows adorning the hallways. He remembered paying a visit to Honda's home almost fifty years ago to relax after having a strenuous argument with the Philippines. Alfred would joke at conferences that several door frames in the Honda residence were permanently dented from his either forgetting to duck or not ducking low enough.

How times change. Now, he was clenching his jaw with the determination to do him as much damage as possible. What Alfred had been ordered to do would have horrible effects of a nature that no one had ever witnessed outside of the testing sites. Such a weapon had never been used in warfare.

Even without his bombers jacket and loosened necktie, he was still sweating.

Alfred approached the main room that no doubt held his sleeping target. He quietly opened the door and controlled his breathing before entering.

Moving slowly across the room, he noticed that Honda was sleeping on his stomach on a futon, the sort that was bordered with a wooden frame. Alfred was careful to avoid obstructing the sunlight washing the futon from the eastern window. The sleeping man, tired as he was, no doubt had learned in all his years of fighting Wang and the other residents of this neighborhoods to be a light sleeper.

Alfred checked his watch: it was little past eight in the morning. His orders said that he would be attacking a specific part of Japan. As if called upon by destiny, Honda's right elbow was resting on top of the wooden frame, leaving his forearm and hand outside of the confines of the futon.

Due to the low stature of the futon and Alfred's height, the difference was perfect if he wanted to maximize the damage.

Gravity would be his friend for today.

Alfred gripped the taped handle of his aluminum baseball bat. Before leaving base, he'd noticed that someone had written "Little Boy" on the barrel. He raised the weapon, quickly gauging how close he would have to position himself so that when the bat connected with Honda's flesh, it would be the tip that made contact.

Ready, Alfred raised the bat and smiled.

"Good morning sunshine!" Alfred swung the bat with all his might.

The impact of metal with bone reverberated up the barrel and quickly into his palms so that he was able to feel the cracking of the shattered elbow. Honda awakened with a pained howl. Alfred harshly brought his heel down on Honda's hand to keep the arm in place the same instant the man tried to pull his arm away, which only brought upon another series of cries. Honda in his pained desperation attempted to wrap his free arm around Alfred leg to pull him down, but the American simply kicked the effort away.

Alfred raised the bat again and gave two heavy blows to the same area.

One.

Two.

Amid the screams, Alfred balanced the baseball bat on his elbow and observed his work. He was surprised Honda was still conscious as was evidenced his flailing and accompanying shrieks. Alfred hadn't planned on that.

Wang lived next door and Ivan not too far away-- he didn't want either of them to see the damage brought upon his by new weapon.

Honda was striking Alfred's shin to get him to remove the boot on his chest holding him down.

Honda had to keep quiet. He was screaming too much.

In his panic, Alfred decided to knock him out. A blow to the head with the same weapon would kill him, and neither Alfred nor his bosses wanted that. Instead, he gripped the barrel with his right hand, the handle with his left, and gave a quick jab to Honda's skull. The metal stopper hit something sensitive, thus spraying Alfred's left hand and sleeve with blood.

That seemed to do the trick.

Alfred gave a quick glance outside before removing his boot off Honda's chest. He took a few minutes to steady his breathing and to wipe away the blood with the bed sheets. He wiped his brow and straightened himself before leaning over Honda's futon.

"Let's see you try to fight now."

Alfred exited the room, giving a few sample check swings in the hallways as he whistled Take Me Out to the Ball Game.

A/N: Whaddya think? The format of the summary probably threw many of you off, but like I said, it starts in media res. The story will adopt a new format in the second chapter, much like the one diplayed in the summary and the styles and perspectives will change as the story progresses. R&R Ladies and Gentlemen!