[IMPORTANT] A/N 2015: Hello, folks! Before you proceed I'll be warning you beforehand that this fanfic is uncompleted and will likely remain so, unfortunately. As extra information as to why, this series was, by issue of some strange miracle, crafted entirely out of "use these 10 words in your story" writing prompts obtained from dictionary-cutting in both English and Chinese-English dictionaries. In other words the plot went only where the dictionary took it, so it became increasingly difficult to write since my plot had nowhere in particular to go. I did have some inkling of a plan, though; as you can guess from the original Author's Note, I had several chapters written in draft on paper and was merely rewriting them for online consumption. If you're unbearably curious as to the planned direction of the plot, feel free to message me and hope I respond!

Also another forewarning: although this is listed under "crossovers," I never got far enough into the story to introduce the FMA cast. In fact, since this entire thing was planned by a set of dictionaries, I didn't intend for it to be a crossover at all until I reached a point in the plot in which I needed a certain type of character which no one in the Hetalia cast fit as, so I introduced the Elric brothers, and they kind of just stuck.

Anyway I'm sorry for having to drop this, but I hope you enjoy anyway, if you do plan on continuing onwards!

ORIGINAL A/N: Second FFN fic! :3 Unlike Floodwaters, this is full-length, though I don't think it will be as popular because it's a crossover. It's still mostly AU Hetalia, though, since the FMA cast isn't making an appearance until Chapter 13 or so.

WARNINGS FOR WHOLE SERIES: T is for blood and swearing; AU Brotherly!Nichu, non-canon pairings that are very bizarre in later chapters. That is all.

Also, thanks to my wonderful betas FireFly07 and Dontmezwitme! :D This is going to be so awesome~

I don't quite own Hetalia, now do I...?

Bloodstained Chrysanthemums/沾染着血的菊花

Chapter one: Letter/第一章：信

Dear Di-di,

If you're reading this letter right now, it means I've gone missing. Mama and Papa are probably going mad, sending out search teams and stuff to look for me. Well, you can cancel them all. I'm fine where I'm going; you can tell them to stop worrying. Besides, you'll never find me. My whereabouts and motives, though, I cannot say, and I don't know when I'll be back…

By the way, Di-di, I'm sorry about that incident. I know you didn't mean it; I shouldn't have been so harsh.

Good luck!

Love, Ge-ge

Kiku folded the letter and returned it to its red envelope with a sigh. Yao had made it sound so…easy. Like he'd just gone on a little joyride somewhere and would be back in an hour. Unfortunately, that hour had become three years.

To Kiku, it didn't really matter. He preferred it when his adoptive older brother had disappeared without a trace. He never liked Yao, to be honest. The Chinese was always trying to be nice, but he always ended up bossing him around instead. Why the rich family took him in, Kiku would rather not think about. Sometimes it felt like he would have been better off when he was a young boy stealing from others to survive.

But the past was the past. Kiku pushed such unpleasant memories away and stared again at the envelope in his hands. It smelled faintly of dried calligraphy ink. He had found the old letter in Yao's journal. Ah, what a surprise it was, to uncover the only link to his missing "brother" after nearly three years!

Or perhaps it wasn't. Yao's parents had left their son's bedroom untouched after his disappearance; they were highly sentimental and superstitious people. They had managed to keep Kiku from Yao's room so far, but now that Yao's mother had been sent to the hospital, Kiku was able to sneak past his father and snoop around Yao's room.

He just couldn't fathom why.

Honestly, Kiku had no idea of what he expected to find. Drugs, a skeleton in his older brother's closet, maybe even bodies of strangled victims…Well, that was over the top, but when the Japanese laid eyes on that door and scanned the area twice, finding no hint of his father, he just had to check it out.

And to his own surprise, he found something.

He smoothed the red paper of the envelope reluctantly. Would he show this to his adoptive parents? Perhaps not. There were no hints of Yao's whereabouts; it was just a useless goodbye letter from an older brother he never liked.

Kiku turned the envelope over, about to return it to the old notebook on the mahogany desk, but a few neat characters in the Japanese kana at the very corner caught his eye: "Devil's Island."

There was just one problem. Yao couldn't write in Kiku's native language.

And so, just five days later, Honda Kiku found himself on a boat to nowhere.

"Where to, sir?" queried the nervous captain for the nth time. It was a perfectly fine day, and a refreshing breeze cut the air as their tiny boat sped through the glittering blue waves of the ocean. Shame that Kiku had to spend it on this futile adventure.

"Please, just keep going…"

Honestly, Kiku himself had no idea. All he had done was show the letter to his father, and suddenly, boom! He had made the most regrettable decision of his life. The businessman had looked up the mysterious "Devil's Island" on the Internet, consulted a few sources, hired a captain, and before Kiku knew it, he was watching the ubiquitous sea as his black hair was whipped into his face by the salty wind.

Apparently, the 'Devil's Island' was some old and corny sailor's tale of an island that was said to exist in the middle of nowhere. If a sailor ever found it and docked on it, he would never return. After a short consultation with his wife, Yao's father had demanded a boat, which Kiku was to personally ride in order to find Yao. The Japanese pointed out that if "sailors that dock on it never return," then no one would come back to spread the word. He was completely ignored.

"Where to, sir?"

And, quite pitifully so, the captain that Yao's father had hired believed in the old spinster's tale himself.

Kiku sighed, turning to the skinny man at the wheel. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"N-No, sir! I can do this…" insisted the captain stubbornly. "I…It's just that…I've never simply wandered around at sea like this, so…"

It was either Yao's father had paid him a huge amount to do this, or the captain was afraid of whatever such a rich family could do to him. Kiku missed his old parents, who were respected because of their kindness, not their wealth.

"You know," said Kiku, hoping to alleviate the poor captain's worry, "the sun is beginning to set. We can head back now, if you'd like to."

"But sir…I'm beginning to see land…!"

Land? Kiku's eyes widened. He got up, stepping closer to the captain's control station. The GPS was empty. There was no island, yet very clearly, Kiku could see a small lump of rock forming on the reddening horizon. An uncharted island.

The captain, not receiving any response from a gaping Kiku, inquired, "Shall we dock, sir?"

The Japanese blinked, recovering from his state of shock. "Y…Yes. Yes, we shall." Not waiting for a reply, he turned back for the deck of the small motorboat. Truth to be told, actually finding an uncharted island was the last thing he expected. What sort of coincidence was it to find one in a search for something similar, except fictional? Kiku didn't believe in such legends, but thinking about the island made his stomach lurch. It was something no one else had ever stepped on. Of course, he didn't expect to find Yao there, but what would he find?

The sun descended lower, drifting into the ocean as the humble little boat cruised into the sunset.

The island was dark by the time they docked.

The forest was accented by shadows of the night, the sand of the beach gracefully illuminated by the white moonlight. Kiku strolled anxiously between them, a flashlight aimed at the ground in front of him. The captain utterly refused to leave his boat, so Kiku departed alone, pitying the trembling young man. And so now, he was here, exploring a never-before-seen island, with the moon peeking at him and the sand shifting under his shoes. Never in his life did Kiku imagine himself in such a situation.

Did Yao's father really expect him to find anything? Was he that desperate? Sometimes riches can blind one to obvious truths. Yao's father certainly had the money to do so; he hesitated not in sending Kiku on the impromptu search. The question was, why Kiku? Why not send a professional search team despite Yao's note? It certainly did seem strange. Perhaps it had slipped the busy man's mind?

In either case, the island certainly was dull. Besides, the sand ended at the crag directly ahead, and it was getting late. Perhaps it was time to head back…

Kiku froze in place when he noticed a human silhouette some distance directly in front of him.

He instinctively flashed the flashlight upwards, heart pounding. Who was it on an uncharted island? Was it a native, like in those survivor movies Kiku had watched wherein the protagonist would be assaulted by a primitive tribe on a deserted island? The beam from his torch flashed against the slick red of blood.

"Ah-!"

"Di-di!"

Something gripped at Kiku's flashlight hand, and he was forced to stare at the face in front of him. Smiling, a grotesque accent to the blood smothered all over the left cheek, which held the Chinese- Japanese character for "death," carved into the flesh. Dark hair falling slightly over it, tied back into a ponytail…

"Y…Yao…"

Said Chinese frowned, releasing a flustered Kiku's wrist. "How come you never call me Ge-ge or Nii-chan, aru?"

Kiku glared still at the character on his brother's cheek, appalled, though his initial terror had begun to fade slightly at the revelation that it wasn't, in fact, a savage tribesman who wanted to sacrifice his soul to some nonexistent deity of the land. Yao was the same, with the same annoying verbal tic, the same attempts at brotherhood and the same favorite t-shirt with the overly-long sleeves and the panda prints in front, but what was this mutilation on his face? More importantly, slipping ever so slightly from the Japanese's mind at the moment, his brother actually was on a fabled uncharted island?

Yao, noting his pallid expression, ran an index finger over the cuts consciously. "This? It's nothing, aru. I'd rather know how you got here."

His brother continued to stare, but no longer at the blood. How was it that Yao was standing on a deserted island in practically his pajamas with the word "death" sliced painfully into his face and still act like it was an ordinary day?

"…You left me a hint," replied Kiku cautiously and softly. He was still wary about this all. It didn't seem likely that he had actually found his missing adoptive brother on an uncharted island, and even less likely that it was all a dream, much to Kiku's chagrin. Only one night, and so many questions already!

"No, I didn't. I left you a letter, aru." Yao examined Kiku's face thoughtfully before stating flatly, "Go home. You can't stay here." His irritating vocal habit was gone, and that sort of thing only happened when he was dead serious. Which, frankly, did not happen often.

Kiku watched him for a while, searching for any hint of the usual playful attitude. When he found none, he said quietly, "There are too many questions to ask."

"And you are not entitled to the answers. Kiku, this isn't just for my convenience; it's for your safety."

Hah! As if Yao cared about Kiku's safety, scoffed the Japanese mentally. He did not believe in the slightest that Yao cared an inch for him; no advantages to their brotherhood ever occurred to him. But he would play along. Then he would not be blamed when he arrived home without Yao behind him; he would say that he found nothing, and if they ever found that he had, they would know that he lied because Yao told him to. Then it would not seem so personal, so…biased. "Very well, then. I will leave you alone, and I will not tell anyone what transpired tonight."

Yao stared at him long and hard. He didn't believe such an easy victory, Kiku could tell, but he knew that his brother would not argue, either. It was the winning that mattered. The Chinese smiled, feigning satisfaction, and chirped jovially, "I'm glad you understand, aru. Anyway, I have some things to attend to…I hope I don't see you again tonight."

He turned for the dead end, ponytail swishing behind him, and Kiku watched the drops of blood fall onto the sandy shore. It was no ordinary night, that's for sure. But he could pretend it was. Kiku was good at that—hiding emotions behind a curtain of dark indifference. That was something that was very much needed on the streets, for the many years he struggled after his parents' deaths…It would come in handy now.

After watching the distant figure continue to stroll down the sand casually for a few minutes, Kiku turned and went on his own way.