I do not own Hetalia Axis Powers. My prayers are sent out to all those in Japan, especially those in Sendai.
Richter
It was over. It only took two minutes for everything to start, and even now, days later, the world had yet to settle under his feet. The Asian laughed bitterly at the thought, spitting up blood and seawater. His government had been falling for a while now, this was only, what would America call it? Oh yes, the 'icing on the cake.' Too many things were created by his people that the rest of the world used, microchips and other technologies. The damage had cut Honshu off from much of the rest of the world. Little could get in or out.
It could have been worse. He knew that it could have been much worse. The quake, a devastating 8.9 in Sendai, could have started farther inland, making it stronger and more dangerous. It could have struck during the night instead of the afternoon, when people could not have known of the Tsunami and would have died in their homes. But even now, the damage was crippling, and the death toll continued to rise. Japan could feel his people in the disaster areas, children screaming for parents, husbands desperately trying to rescue family, mothers crying as they slipped below the waves...
Kiku shook his head, coughing up another lungful of his people's life's blood. He would recover. The Kanto Earthquake from 1923 had been devastating, not just from the quake, but from the fires that blazed throughout Tokyo and Yokohama, cities that at the time, were not skyscrapers made from metal and stone, but homes made from wood and paper. Even now though, he could feel heat building as areas of the Miyagi Prefecture blazed, and even more disturbing, a tingle of warning building in his skin. The Russian Trio of Russia, Belarus, and Hungary had described this once, in remembrance of the Chernobyl Incident so many years ago, and the power plants in both Fukushima and Onagawa were so much stronger. He prayed that they would be monitored, that the warning he felt would not turn to radiation sickness if the plants failed.
A funny thought ghosted through his mind. Where Tokyo had been reborn through fire ninety-eight years before, Sendai would be reborn through water. Water and hopefully not radiation.
He must have blacked out, because the next thing the Nation knew, he was opening his eyes to the sight of a brother hovering over him, an ally surprisingly quiet in the background. But that was unfair to America. Brash the young man may be, but he knew when to be serious, when to step fully into the mature role of a Super Power. It was his brother that surprised him. Korea never knew when to be quiet, but here he was replacing a cool cloth of his forehead.
Black eyes joined his, and the younger Asian tried to smile as he sat up, nudging a waste basket closer to the futon for the Island Nation. "Big Brother is right outside," he offered.
Japan could not find it in himself to be annoyed at the other Nation. Korea had been lucky this time, Sendai was on the eastern end of Honshu. If the quake had struck to the west of the island, the Tsunami would have traveled and struck China and Korea's shores. His eyes drifted to America, who had a bruise forming around his neck. No, the waves had traveled elsewhere, and America would later tell him that while they had struck the Hawaiian Chain and the western shores, nothing had reached higher than three feet at any time.
He flinched as the world shuddered under them again, hands clenching at covers and fellow Nations. America was trying to bring a little bravado into his voice, declaring that at least ten different major relief funds had been started already with smaller ones popping up all over the Internet, that he would stay and help him rebuild, and Korea was echoing the younger Nation, saying that whatever America started, he would triple. He didn't care anymore. He didn't notice when China entered the room, the eldest Nation stroking his hair away from a bruised face, a comforting gesture from when he had been a younger Nation.
He just wanted the world to stop shaking under his feet.
For the honor of those who lost their lives, and for the hopes of those left behind.
~Written by Jessica, March 11, 2011