Disclaimer: Hetalia is not mine

Warnings: Mature themes, war

Notes: It's probably risky to write about this, but it forced itself out because I have been living in Singapore for the past few years and I will be leaving it soon.

Country names used, human names in speech to denote familiarity. Written in just a few hours during a time of night I should be sleeping. Apologies for any mistakes.

There was a time not too long ago that the act of cleansing - clearing a slate to create something better, stronger, and beautiful, relaxed Japan. It was better than living in the all-consuming terror that the outside world offered. Against so vast and mad a place, what refuge was there for a small player such as he? But hiding from the outside never took the terror away. Eventually he found that the only action which could provide even the slightest solace was productivity. So Japan worked hard, doing everything in his power to become stronger, to resist subjugation, and one day, maybe, he could accomplish enough to be safe. Perhaps by then, finally, the fear and helplessness would go away.

And it did, at least, when he was awake. In the real world, the adrenaline and heightened awareness from battle blocked out all other unwelcome thoughts. There was only living, becoming stronger, pushing himself to the next level, achieving greater and greater heights of endurance, skill, fearlessness and vicious determined efficiency. When he was awake his enemies feared him, which was so much better than living with his own terrors.

At night however, there was nothing to stop the dreams. They attacked him constantly in a confused, mad rush. He could never remember them when he woke, except that familiar, unwelcome, all encompassing and shameful fear that shook his body and made him sweat. He decided then that the only solution to this was to avoid sleep entirely. He threw himself into battle, wrote poetry, tended his garden, served his Emperor and drew up more strategies. In return, his children adored him.

Japan stood on a beach, the usually peaceful sound of waves rushing to the shore was interrupted by gunshots, pleas and screams. He wondered if he should write about today. Bodies were strewn all across the beach. They were also floating in the now blood red water, and washing up on the shores of nearby islands. Young and old, rich and poor, they had two things in common to be here - they were male, and they were Chinese. Japan took a deep breath and immediately hated the instinct which caused it. There was no fresh air to bring peace or solace now, only the stench of death. He had fouled the air, the earth and the sea. Even though he knew that the greatest cleansing could only occur after the most utter destruction, creating that empty field he needed to build that better future was always distasteful and exhausting.

He hated that. He hated that it was becoming harder to feel clarity or solace, only the drudgery of war. But still, he now commanded Southeast Asia, he just had to persevere. It was always difficult in the beginning, he remembered how chaotic the early days with Taiwan were and just look at her now - his model colony. The Empire was finally taking shape and besides, there was still glory in battle. This however, was not a battle and it left a bitter taste in his mouth. There was no personal strengthening of character that came as a result executing thousands of civilians each day, maybe at best, it fueled his energy for the next time he faced his brother in battle.

He looked at his men throwing bodies into the large hole that had been dug, and the growing pile of vacant, dead faces. Some of them stared accusingly at him with open eyes - black eyes, black hair, with the same colored skin as his own, and suddenly bile rose in his throat because he did not see his brother's people, but a mass grave of his own face staring back at him a thousand times, accusing, monstrous and -

"AAAAAAAHHHH!" His eyes opened to darkness, where the hell was he? Was this hell? He thought there would be more but...

"Kiku!" A voice called out.

Faces, his own face, his brother's face, his children's faces. He held up his arms against them but to no avail. The corpses rose and chased him, screaming, reaching, the stench of fear and death enveloped him. They caught him and attacked, shaking him hard.

"Kiku wake up!"

"Let me go!" He cried out. He fought the arms, he fought the darkness and punched one of the monsters. After a brief scrabbling, a light suddenly switched on and Japan awoke to reality.

As he gulped down deep breaths, he realized that he was not standing on the beach. He was not even outside, he was in a regular hotel room on a standard bed and he had just punched Greece in the face.

"Oh no." He whispered. Putting his hands gently on Greece's face. "I am so sorry Herakles, I..." Greece did not resist as he let Japan lift his face to the light, studying.
"I'm sorry," he whispered again, still shaking from the dream. "It will bruise, let me get some ice."

He pulled on a robe, ignoring Herakles' objections as he grabbed the room key and practically ran out into the hallway, swiftly striding down its length. Eventually he reached the end of the hall and cursed to himself. What was he doing? This was a five star hotel on Singapore-chan's resort island of Sentosa. There was hardly going to be ice dispensers in the hallway. He cursed again, turning around to go back to their room and call for ice but he heard the drunken footsteps shuffling down the hallway. England glared at him with bleary, eyes, smelling of too much whiskey and stronger spirits.

Japan grit his teeth and clenched his fists. England was the last nation he wanted to see right now, with Singapore perhaps coming at a close second. Actually, he could add China to that list right now, as well as Korea, Thailand, Taiwan, Germany, Italy, Australia...forget it. At this point, isolation was his only option...just for a few days. That was the problem when bad memories from World War 2 resurfaced. Everyone was a bad memory. But then he remembered one nation that was not such a blight, and that he just punched him. He felt himself fill with shame because he was not the best friend or lover that he could be, and as much as he liked to deny it sometimes, he actually cared for Herakles very much. Sometimes it was impossible to win.

England let out a huff, suddenly looking sober. "Right well...I'll see you in the morning session. Good night Japan." He muttered, making his way to his door. For one mad, drunk moment, England looked at him as if he considered inviting Japan in, but thankfully he just opened his door and disappeared inside. Japan let out the breath he did not know that he was holding and slowly walked back to his own room. He supposed he did feel a little sorry for England, who must have gone out earlier in the evening to get blind, mind erasing drunk, just to fail miserably, and suffer the consequences in the morning. They got along on most days, truly, it was just that sometimes they ran into each other at the wrong time.

He was caught in a whirlwind of unwelcome emotions, drained, scared and frustrated all at once. His thoughts formed heavy weights on his shoulders and he suddenly realized that he still felt cold. Odd, the air-conditioning was not that strong, and Singapore was tropical. Still, he did recall that it could get unexpectedly chilly in her home in the evenings, especially with the sea breeze.

When he returned to the room, Greece was pulling on a shirt, looking as if he was about to leave in search of him. "You're back." He greeted with his ever soothing voice and a smile. Japan could only look up at him guiltily, raising a hand to gently caress around the eye where he hit. It was already starting to swell.

"I'm so sorry Herakles, I'll call for ice. It looks like you will have a black eye...I'm..." he sighed, feeling terribly guilty and at a complete loss as to how to make this situation better. "I'm very sorry. Do you want me to move to a separate room?"

Greece only stepped forward and gently put his arms around him, making Japan feel even worse. He never really understood how this relationship with Greece came into being, but here they were. "I already called for ice. It should be here any moment now. I was going to find you if you weren't back by then. And of course I don't want you to leave. Please, stay."

Guilt flooded Japan even more as he looked up to Greece's serious but kind face, wondering what he did exactly to deserve such a plea. They stood there silently, looking at each other, when there was a knock at the door. Reluctantly, Greece let go and went to accept the ice bucket. Japan noted that the hotel boy's eyes widened a moment as he saw the swelling face, but Greece only smiled and closed the door before any questions could be asked.

"You know that they will inquire with you discretely tomorrow, when I am not next to you?" Japan sighed.

Greece shrugged, wrapping the ice in a hotel hand towel. "I'll tell them the truth, that my partner had a nightmare and hit me by accident."

Japan tried his best to hide his discomfort at that blunt statement, but let it be. Greece ran a comforting hand up one of Japan's arms, the other holding the ice gingerly against his eye. "Do you want to talk about it?"

They settled back on the bed, Japan allowing Greece to hold him from behind, chin resting on a shoulder. "It was just a nightmare." He answered. "From...from the war."

He felt the stiffness and slow relaxation from the body holding him, thanking all that was good in the world that Greece never saw him back then.

"I figured," Greece replied. "Is it this place? Sentosa? Are there bad memories here?"

Even in the relative privacy of the room, Japan tried to respond politely. "Well this island had a different name back then, and it was not a pretty one*, but frankly, there was fighting all over. Singapore-chan has managed some impressive landscaping over the years, it almost looks different enough to forget a lot of what happened, but not completely."

Greece 'hmmmed' thoughtfully, then with a frightening awareness asked. "Was your nightmare actually from the battle? Or what came after?"

Japan stiffened, and tried to pull away, but Greece had his free arm clamped around his stomach and he was not moving. "Do you always have nightmares when you visit Singapore?" Greece continued, "Or uh...any of the old places?"

He let out a sigh. Japan was feeling uncomfortable, but it would be difficult to go anywhere or move. However, if Greece had started verbally listing out all the nations that could give Japan these nightmares as he almost did, arm or no arm, plea or no plea, Japan would have packed his bag and taken the next flight back to Tokyo.

"No." Japan replied shortly. "Usually I am fine. I drink certain herbs in a tea to help me sleep." He eyed his thermos suspiciously, wondering if he needed to increase the dosage, or if something else was wrong.

"Wait," Greece turned him around and frowned at him. "You mean you always have nightmares unless you have a sleeping drought?"

Japan looked away, frowning in return, wondering how to answer. "I have always been prone to nightmares Herakles, before I ever fought in my first war, while I was still small enough for China to carry me around. I already had them. My brain has simply obtained more ingredients as the years have passed to create more complex ones." He did not say that it was China who first noticed Japan's shivering and insomnia, came up with the recipe, and taught Japan how to find the correct herbs and mix them together.

Greece shifted a little, thinking in that slow, ponderous way of his. He looked like he was seconds from falling asleep but Japan knew better. "You know Kiku, a couple of decades ago, around the time when Ludwig and Feliciano were trying to be friends again, they asked me very politely for permission to travel together to Cephalonia. They could have just gone of course, it's a tourist destination, but they felt the need to ask. I wasn't entirely comfortable at the time, but I couldn't stop them. Besides, tourism money is still money. I gave them permission, and when they came back I felt that something had changed. They were lighter. We talked about it. That's the only time I've ever seen Feliciano about as talkative as Ludwig, but it was...good. It's also good to scream about it with each other, and it's also good to let time run its course. I'm not saying that all is well, there are still days that get very bad, especially with my economy in the state that it's in right now, but for the most part, that part at least is lighter. Maybe if Singapore is agreeable, you can..."

"You still hate Turkey," Japan snapped. "Talking is not going to do anything. I have already apologized. Over and over again, repeatedly, offered reparations and given so much development aid that I'm worse off than some of them*. Those who have not accepted that apology by now never will."

As was usual, whenever Turkey was brought up, Greece's face darkened. "I still hate Turkey because he has never shown an ounce of remorse for killing my mother. It's different. What I'm talking about is...have you spoken to Rwanda or South Africa about their Truth and Reconciliation Commissions? People just go to confess everything they did in return for conditional amnesty. They're, I suppose you can call them...tools to help communities heal themselves so they can work together again without breaking up into another civil war. That's kind of worked so far. I mean, Rwanda still hates Belgium, can't really blame her I guess, but what I'm saying is...there's something about forcing yourself to relive everything, openly with the other party that seems to work for the long-term."

It sounded like the worst idea Japan had ever heard. Everyone knew what happened, and as far as he was concerned, the stories sometimes got out of control. He winced, trying to imagine having such a conversation with China and stopped because it was impossible. Their rift was caused by such a massive betrayal of trust that there was nothing he could say that would get through. Japan knew that trust, once so decisively shattered was impossible to regain, but that was another reason why Greece's rather idealistic, western idea was not going to work. What was worse was that he could not actually remember the true details. From the time Nagasaki was bombed to about a two months afterwards, he had laid in some sort of coma which was filled with endless nightmares. He had no idea himself which of his memories were real or simply bad dreams. All he knew were the cries of his lost children, the weight on his shoulders and the unrelenting shame of not only defeat, but of being so wrong.

But America had been there when Japan woke up, one of his worst fears came true - he was occupied, and by the British Empire's blue-eyed boy no less. For something that had been so terrible in a nightmare, the reality of it, for all the hardships, was not as bad as he had imagined it would be. What did surprise Japan was the extent of America's own guilt. How did they overcome the memory of each bitter battle across the Pacific? When exactly did he look upon the rebuilt cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki and realize that he had forgiven Alfred? When had Alfred done the same for Pearl Harbor? Japan was forced to acknowledge that is was the honesty. There was never a long, soul-baring talk per-se, but they did have the reality of working closely together to rebuild, each and every single day. They did not hide behind false courtesy or pretended amnesia, they acknowledged what had happened and worked through it until one day they realized they actually were friends.

Japan had hoped in the beginning, that reconciliation with his family could be as possible as it had been with America. He championed development aid to his superiors where he could, thinking that working collectively towards a common goal would foster the same environment of moving forward. Somehow Asia's economy grew, but the old mistrust stayed the same.

"Can you honestly see China or Korea sitting down with me to talk about the past in any reasonable manner?" Japan asked derisively.

Greece did not even blink. "Well it's telling that you keep thinking about your brothers, but maybe it's safer to begin with the countries that actually have accepted your apologies. That may be easier. We're being hosted by one, for starters."

Her image came unbidden - not the twenty-something she appeared to be now, but the child he knew her as, that little girl that cried and reached out to England even though he had failed her utterly. Japan knew that Singapore had forgiven him mostly out of practicality. She needed trade and investment, it was her life's blood. He had always felt that neither of them really wanted to confront the past, and that by doing so, he could destroy the relationship they had managed to build since her independence. He also wondered if she ever forgave England for breaking his promise to her. Could that be why England attempted to get blind drunk? (Not that he needed much excuse).

Once upon a time Japan knew England very well. While Singapore would never be as important to England as America or many other former colonies were, Japan knew that England remembered his failure to defend Singapore acutely. It screamed out in every English textbook - the "worst disaster" and "largest capitulation" in British military history. She was only a micro-nation at the time, one that no one expected would ever have a chance on her own. Considering the fact that England as the British Empire and had gone to war with almost every single existing (and some no longer existing) nation on earth, the insistence on remembering this defeat was surprising.

He was silent for too long, thinking about such things, and Greece sighed, putting the now dripping towel away. "Well, think about it at least. And in the meantime, we get some sleep."

Japan shook his head. "No, you go to sleep, I'll...read."

Greece in turn raised an eyebrow, his face, despite the injury, took on that familiar seductive gleam. "Or...we can do something more fun." He pouted suddenly. "And look at my face, I think you need to kiss it better," then a smirk as he lowered his voice, leaning in to whisper against his ear, "And then you need to be punished."

Japan felt his cheeks burn red but he make no move to stop what was coming. He knew that Greece was trying to distract him. He knew that they were both hoping that maybe dreamless oblivion could follow in the wake of satisfying, physical and sexual exhaustion, but deep down he knew better. On his own, there was no escape and a wave of nausea threatened to overtake him.

As Greece leaned in for the kiss, Japan clutched him close but also wondered if tomorrow, he should try England's ineffective solution.

Tomorrow he would have to sit through a useless day of sessions.

Tomorrow he would have to continue to be lost in the darkest time of his past, with all of those involved sitting in the same room as him.

Tomorrow he would try alcohol poisoning.

At least that was what he told himself as he let Greece pull him down.

*Before Singapore's most popular island resort was named Sentosa, it was called Pulau Belakang Mati, which literally means 'Island of Death from Behind' but was more easily called 'Dead Island'. Just don't tell the kids that...

*Japan has issued numerous official apologies for their conduct during the Second World War. Some apologies were even accompanied with reparations, or reparation offers (as long as they could be paid directly to the families, and not delivered through the other government as a third party). Some countries believe these apologies to be insincere, because convicted war criminals are still commemorated at the now infamous Yasukuni Shrine, which was founded to commemorate those who died in service to Japan from the Meiji era (which predates WW2). Japan has also been one of the largest distributors of economic aid in Asia, and the largest distributor of aid to China. There's a lot of politics surrounding aid, so I'm reluctant to say that this was purely charitable (there are a lot of rules that are dictated by the aid donor such as 'I'm giving you money for this development project, so I say that you need to choose vendors from my country, and this money gets back to me eventually anyway'). However, since China has started providing aid to African countries, Japan has been wondering whether or not they ought to continue being so generous.

This is not a one-shot, but will be updated less frequently than The Tomato Princeling.