A/N: Hello to all! I am back with a whole new UsUK story. Actually, though… it's not really UsUk, it's more implied than anything. The main point of this story is this… I recently watched a quite disturbing video based off of the atomic bombs that the US detonated on Hiroshima and Nagasaki during WW2. After I watched that, I couldn't help my immediate thought of, "Well… that's why people don't fuck with America." And then I had to stop, and think to myself, 'What if Alfred thought the same thing? What if he thought he had been justified in attacking his enemy in such a way?' Through that wonder and curiosity, this was born. Please read and review and let me know what you think.
Note: The title of this story is based off a quote from Isoroku Yamamoto, who was a commander-in-chief, and Naval Marshal general to the Japanese Navy. In the 1970 movie Tora! Tora! his character is portrayed to have said the same quote, and though there is no evidence to prove whether or not he actually said it, the quote has become highly famous in regards to the Pearl Harbor attack, as well as the US's response to it. I felt it fit the story perfectly.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters used in this fic.
Title: The Sleeping Giant
"I fear all we have done is to awaken a sleeping giant and fill him with a terrible resolve."
-Isoroku Yamamoto
It was early, that December morning; that much America was sure about, but it was Sunday and damnit he was bound and determined to get some sleep. Then again, it probably didn't help that he was still feeling the jet lag from the flight from Washington D.C. to Hawaii.
Throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the light of the morning, and hopefully the pain that he suddenly began to feel in his head, he sighed, wondering to himself why exactly the President had wanted him to come all the way out here anyway. Sure, there was an embargo against Japan now, but what could he really do to maintain that? In Alfred's mind, it seemed more important he be in the capital, in the very least dealing with getting England the supplies he'd asked for.
'Hell… couldn't I be put on the battlefield in Europe or something?' He asked himself, 'Come on… let me see some real action. Let me be the hero again!' He sighed, turning on his side as the dull throb in his head continued. 'Dammit… what the hell is this, now? I better not be getting sick again, I'm hardly getting over the sickness from the Depression as it is…'
It was then that a sudden sound from outside his room was finally able to rouse him from his half-asleep state. "Get up! Get your asses up now! This isn't a fucking drill! Go! Go!" Someone was shouting, running down the halls screaming over and over again. There was chaos going on outside Alfred's room; he could tell just from the sound of everything outside –doors opening and slamming, people running and screaming, gunshots and explosions through far away air.
Wait… what was that last one? Gunshots? Explosions?
Alfred sat up, ignoring the dizzying sensation it sent through his field of vision. He listened quickly and it didn't take him long to realize that he'd been right. The distinct sound of machine guns and bombs detonating reached his ears. What the hell was going on outside?
He grabbed his brown bombers jacket off the back of a chair and his glasses from the table before he ran from the room, instantly getting swept up in the people running every which way –but most trying to get out of the building as fast as possible.
Alfred grabbed one of the men suddenly, "Hey man, what's going on out there?" He demanded to know.
The man was a young sailor, as were most of the people that had signed up for his Navy. He looked back at Alfred with light hazel eyes that were filled with a sense of urgency, but panic at the same time. It was obvious the young sailor had never dealt with anything like this before. But that wasn't anything strange, a good majority of the sailors here probably hadn't yet.
"I don't know, sir!" He said politely, looking around at all the other people around them, still trying to get to some unknown destination. "People are saying it's total war out there! They're saying the Japs are here and are bombing up the harbor!" He said.
Alfred let go of the sailor, who instantly moved away from him –falling into the crowd of people and was soon gone. 'What?' Alfred thought to himself, shocked into a state of paralysis. No, there had to be something wrong with that story! That idiot had to be lying! There was no way something like that could be happening to him; to his country! He wasn't even officially in this damn war!
Being jolted back to his senses as another explosion shook the earth the building was on, Alfred took off at a run –pushing through the crowds of people towards the exit, which conveniently was the place most of the others were trying to get to as well. More than likely wanting to see what was going on for themselves; to see if it was true.
Alfred pushed past them, and looked instantly up to clear morning blue sky, which was now littered with both high and low-flying planes that Alfred knew were not his own. He watched them fly parallel to the ocean, shooting at the decks of the battleships that were parked, there. Others dropped their bombs on the huge metal ships, causing tall watchtowers to fall and a mix of fire and smoke to lift towards the heavens.
Alfred could hardly breathe at the sight that was before him; his blue eyes wide behind wire-rim glasses at the realization of what exactly was happening to him right now. The island was being bombed. What more, it was being bombed by Japan.
"No! No!" He screamed at nothing, taking off at a run towards where all the madness was going on. He stopped only after a few feet, though, watching helplessly as he could just barely make out the sight of sailors abandoning their blown up ships for oil-filled water that was soon to be caught on fire from the ships. All the while the planes dipped close to the Earth, their machine guns targeting anyone who tried to escape.
Even if he got there, Alfred thought to himself, what was he to do? What could he realistically do against the Japanese fleet that outnumbered him at least a hundred to one? Alfred wanted to be a hero… he wanted to be the hero! But… where was a hero needed right now?
In a fit of frustration Alfred grabbed a pistol that'd been attached to his side and started firing off shots at a plane that flew overhead of him, "Take that you bastards!" He screamed to the air. The bullets, no matter how many, had no effect on the plane.
He watched as it continued to fly, but suddenly rose in the air and turned back his way. He glared at the cockpit of the plane, though of course he couldn't see the pilot. He did see the machine gun being aimed at him, though. "What! What more are you going to do?" He screamed at the plane, though the propellers successfully drowned out his voice.
As it came back his way, the gun was fired, but Alfred made not a move to get out of its way –resulting in a stray bullet being shot through his left shoulder. The impact knocked him back, but Alfred knew he could stand up to it. He was stronger than that.
The plane began to fly away from him and back towards the harbor where all of the action was happening. "What?" Alfred screamed after it. "Is that all you've got! Get back here! I'm still standing you bastard!" He wasn't sure why, in that moment, he felt the need to target that one plane, but it all made about as much sense to him as this entire attack did!
The throbbing in his head returned full force, and as Alfred grabbed his forehead in a failed attempt to stop it, he knew it was because of this attack. It was the sensation of feeling every loss of life of his people as well as something as important as this military base being targeted on his land! Not only that… but the assured feeling that war was closer than just the horizon.
No… instead of it being on the horizon, as the saying went, he felt it instead at his shores. But that was fine with him, he had every intention of playing the hero once more, and winning the entire thing, now.
Not only that, but as he watched the fiery battleships beginning to sink and light the water on fire, he vowed to himself to extract every amount of revenge on Japan that he felt he so rightfully deserved.
December 7th, 1941, Alfred remembered as his eyes slipped open from the memory and instantly fell out the car window on the English city of London. It was just as his President had said to Congress the day after the attack, "It is a day that will live in infamy."
And the personification of America had no doubt that that would reign true. The attack had come at such a surprise to them all… his nation had no other choice but to be dragged into the second world war. A sense of déjà vu had come over him from the first world war… but Pearl Harbor had been no Lusitania.
Or maybe it had been, and Alfred's view on it was simply diluted because he had been there, been a part of the whole attack and had watched his own people be killed first hand. It had had such a greater effect on him than before. After all, it had been one of the few times that an enemy had actually gone so far as to attack him on his own land.
But now the times were a bit different. It was almost four years since the attack on Pearl Harbor. It was early August of 1945 now, and things were different. America had been in the war ever since Pearl Harbor, and since then, he'd gotten the taste of action he had wanted so badly those years ago.
Despite what any of his officials had said, he had shipped himself off to fight along with the rest of his soldiers on the European front until the war finally came to an end in the Allies victory. If anything, it had been so he could be there when it all finally did end; or in the least help bring down the Axis forces, who thought they could get away with all their actions –taking up countries and ruling them as they saw fit.
Hadn't they set up self-determination in the last war for a reason!
He exhaled, thinking back on it all to himself. It didn't matter one way or another anyway; because now it was 1945. Half of the war was over, and America was taking care of the other half. What was even more… America had finally gotten the revenge on Japan that he had so heavily sought out for those four years.
He finally closed his eyes, remembering exactly what happened when he had extracted that so sweet of revenge.
The day Alfred picked up the newspaper that early August morning he instantly felt his heart swell by what he saw. A picture of the huge mushroom cloud on the front page signaled instantly that the bomb had been dropped, as he had been hoping it would ever since his President let him in on the information of its testing.
The new atomic bomb –the likes of which no other nation had been able to create until now. Sure, bombs were easy to create nowadays, proof of that had been made almost four years ago.
But this! This was something different entirely. This was a force not to be reckoned with, and even he knew it.
He carefully read the reports from officials, in the coming hours, especially the one from the pilot of the plane that had dropped the bomb. Tibbets was his name, and from what he had said upon return to home ground told of a huge shock wave from the initial blast, and the sight of the purple mushroom cloud that was created rose nearly ten miles into the air –able to be seen by Tibbets and his crew for an hour and a half while they flew back towards home after that.
Alfred could only imagine what kind of effects a blast like that would have on not only the country of Japan, but to Kiku himself. He closed his eyes, putting the paper down he'd been reading, and wondering quietly how long exactly it was going to take for Japan to finally surrender to him.
He had set out to win this damned war when Japan dragged him in it, and now… it seemed he definitely had.
'Kiku isn't dumb…' Alfred told himself. 'He should have known. He should have known what might happen when he decided to bomb Pearl Harbor.' He sighed. 'This is what happens when you cross me. This is just what has to happen when you wrong me. I was right, here. Kiku had no reason to pull that attack on me. I was entitled to my own revenge.' He told himself.
"Sir?" The representative next to America suddenly started, drawing the blonde out of his own thoughts. "Are you feeling alright?" Alfred remembered then, as he once again took in the British city, that he'd been brought here to attend some meeting about what to do with the Axis –mainly Germany and Italy, since they had surrendered first.
He looked back at the young representative with a small smile, "I'm fine!" He told him. "Just wondering what we're going to do at this boring meeting. I wonder if they'll let us beat them up real good!" He commented with a wide grin.
The representative smiled in response, "Can you believe it's practically over now? Man… they thought the first great war was going to be intense… this one might have just taken the cake. I mean… we even had to resort to nuclear warfare. I can't imagine how the Japanese are faring as a result." He commented.
America's look died into one much graver. He felt the pang in his heart, that feeling of regret, but he pushed it down, continuing to tell himself that what he had done was justified. Japan had it coming to him and his people when they dragged him into the war. His people seemed to judge it otherwise, though, which he figured was resulting in the feeling being forced onto his body.
Even so, he continued to push it down –knowing that when Japan finally surrendered to him, it would all be worth it. The act would be seen with approving eyes, instead of the constant questioning ones he seemed to receive more and more as days passed.
"Yeah… I guess so." He commented simply, not wanting to try and explain his completely opposing point to someone who would simply not understand at all, and never would.
They finally pulled up to the grand meeting building close to the center of London. As Alfred looked stepped out of the car and looked up at the oh-so familiar building, he remembered back on Veteran's day, that past May. He'd been in London then, too, but he didn't remember what for. He did remember being with England at the time, though, and remembered seeing that genuine, relieved smile on his face.
Wars always seemed to take so much out of Arthur, but Alfred was happy to get the chance to see the relief he always felt, and the genuine emotions of the time, when the wars were finally over. He wondered if England might give him that same look today –or if he would be proud of him, if he understood why exactly America had done what he did.
With a grin at the thought he entered into the building and up to where the meeting was to be held and up the few flights of stairs to where the room would be. He couldn't help but think that this might be the last meeting between the Allies, and after this everyone would just go back to being individual, instead of a team. He didn't much like the thought… but what other option was there?
Entering the room, he instantly spotted the Brit, and instantly went over, ignoring the other nations and their own representatives. He wanted to talk to England, and see what he had to say about all this! His opinion mattered most. If England could justify him and his actions, then he knew he'd have nothing to worry about when it came to the rest of the world… or his own people.
"Artie!" He called happily, pushing his way to the front of the Brit's field of vision and ignoring the muttered insults he received from the people who'd been talking to him before. He paused a moment with that trademark grin on his face, watching the way England opened his mouth to say something, then thought better and looked him over, instead.
He couldn't help wondering what that was about, but instead he continued, to force England to speak. "What's going on?"
"What's going on," England started, his eyes flicking up to meet Alfred's, "Is the delay in the meeting because you decided to be late… git." He snapped, his green eyes burning into Alfred's like… like he was mad at him. Could he really be that mad at him for being late? He never got the chance to ask, though, as Arthur continued. "Well then… since you're here, I guess we can begin. Everyone else is already here." He turned away from Alfred and started towards the meeting table.
America's look dropped, watching his former guardian and idol walk away. He huffed, but made his way over to his own seat at the head of the table, and the meeting of what to do about the European Axis powers was officially begun.
Alfred leaned back in his chair, looking over the Allies and exhaling, suddenly feeling like he was different from the rest of them, as though his actions against Japan had put him on a completely different level. Or perhaps that through them he had finally proven himself to the others –that he could be strong like they were; or maybe stronger. Either way he had proven himself.
He gave a small smile and let his eyes close, going back to his memories once more of only a few days back after both of the atom bombs had been dropped on Japan. Still there'd been no word from them… but there were reports… and to the reports, there were responses.
"Thousands are presumed dead after both explosions, but no numbers have been confirmed for sure. Many of the Japanese citizens caught in the blast that were not instantly incinerated are now facing radiation poisoning." The news report on the TV said.
Alfred had been walking down the New York streets when he noticed a TV in a store window displaying the news. He couldn't help but stop and listen to it, and a few other New Yorkers got the same idea and stood near him, watching the screen with interest as pictures of the bombed sites were shown.
"Many of the victims are not presumed to live very long in the state, and with lack of supplies entering into Japan, there is very little that can be done for the people."
"That's just terrible, isn't it?" Said a woman standing next to Alfred. He looked over to her, now, as she continued, "Who would have ever ordered such a thing on them? Sure they're our enemy… but no one should ever have to go through that. I feel so bad for them…"
Alfred didn't know what to say, but he felt the pang of regret heavy in his heart –the feeling his entire country had in response to what had been done to Japan. The feeling urged him to find Kiku and possibly apologize, and offer help, if it would help at all. But even if he did, he realistically did not think it would do an ounce of good.
What's done had been done, and there was no changing it. He closed his eyes, pushing down the feelings of guilt his people seemed to beg from their own hearts for him to feel. But he wouldn't. He would not be the one to give, between himself and Kiku. This was war, and in his mind, whoever broke first lost.
He was not going to be that person.
"I guess. But don't you think they deserved it?" Alfred asked the woman, "I mean… they're the ones who attacked us first. We didn't even do anything to them! What right did they have to attack us?" He tried to make her see.
"I know full and well what happened at Pearl Harbor." She said matter-of-factly, closing her eyes for a moment. "But even that does not warrant something as terrible as that!" She said, motioning to the screen. "We could have beat them the right way. Without having to resort to that…" And with that, she turned and continued on her way down the sidewalk.
Alfred watched her walk away with no expression present on his face –not even his trademark grin could be found there anymore. 'She doesn't understand. She wasn't there.' He told himself, turning and walking in the opposite direction that she had gone. 'She didn't watch those poor sailors dying, and didn't feel the loss from it. She didn't feel the pain. She doesn't understand what it's like to be a nation and feel a surprise attack on your own land… or your own body. I was right. I was justified. I did the right thing.'
"America?" He suddenly heard his name being called. There was a heavy sigh and words being mumbled under the speaker's breath before he finally continued again, "America! Alfred, wake up!" Someone shook his shoulder and unwillingly his lids lifted, revealing blue eyes to a darkened room, and England standing over him.
He blinked a couple times, realizing that in his reminiscing back into his memories he had accidentally fallen asleep. The meeting room, which had previously been filled with representatives as well as the Allied nations was now empty except for himself and Arthur, and had been left dark.
"Finally, you git." Arthur's voice drew his eyes back to him. The elder nation stood straight and crossed his arm; that annoyed frown present on his face once again. Alfred remembered when he was a kid and he made odd faces, Arthur would tell him that his face would get stuck like that someday. He couldn't help wonder if that's what had happened to Arthur with his frowning. "The meeting ended an hour ago, and you slept through the entire thing!"
America sat up with a yawn and stretched his arms over his head, "So it seems… sorry about that." He said, giving a small grin. "Thankfully a rep was here, though, right? So I'm sure at least something got done, right?" He asked, standing up. However, he noticed, there came no answer from England.
He looked over, watching those green eyes somehow shine in the darkened room as they watched him –seemingly taking in America, as if he was looking for something. "What?" America asked, paralyzed in place by Arthur's sudden quiet nature. It wasn't like the Brit to pass up the opportunity to scold America for being so rude at a meeting.
England's frown grew, and his eyes narrowed on him, "What's wrong with you, Alfred?" He asked, continuing to watch the younger nation.
"What do you mean what's wrong with me? Nothing's wrong with me, of course! We've practically won the entire war! What could be wrong with me?" He answered, his smile growing as he spoke. He made to move past Arthur to leave the empty room, but the Brit's hand suddenly grabbed his wrist, and before he could question, a sudden hand was pressed to his forehead.
"Well…" Arthur said, seemingly more to himself. "You're not sick… but of course you're not, your economy has been doing wonderfully through this war." He huffed, and Alfred could hear the thought Arthur wasn't saying: 'unlike the rest of us'. Green eyes darted back down as his hand left Alfred's head and he began again, "Have you eaten since you got here? I suppose it's safe to say you haven't slept since you easily slept through that entire meeting."
"Wow, Artie no need to go into parent mode on me!" Alfred said, grinning awkwardly and stepping back, but Arthur's hold on his wrist kept him from going too far. "Trust me, I'm fine, alright? I guess I was just tired from the jet lag." He shrugged. "You don't need to worry about me, I can take care of myself."
England's eyes seemed to narrow once more, "So you keep saying…" He commented, almost under his breath. Before America could retort, the other nation turned, heading for the exit and dragged the other with him. "Come along, Alfred, let's go have a talk."
Alfred watched him as he was pulled along, confused, "A talk? About what, Iggy?"
Arthur didn't elaborate, though and instead stayed completely silent as he pulled Alfred from the abandoned meeting room and down a darkened hall of the building, and into another room, which Alfred saw to be just as empty as the last one –but this one was a little less designed to hold meetings, and instead seemed to be more of the lounge type, with couches and tables and chairs set up.
Alfred stepped further into the room as Arthur let go of his wrist in order to close and lock the doors. When the American heard the locks click into place he instantly turned, feeling a little off-set by it. What the hell did Arthur want to discuss that warranted locking the rest of the world out?
"Now… let's talk, Alfred. Sit down." He said with his same gentlemanly tone of voice. It was meant to show the calm atmosphere he was trying to create between them, to allow for conversation –this Alfred knew well- however, he had already set the American on edge.
America did as told, though, and took a seat in one of the chairs at a table for two; his cerulean eyes never left Arthur as he did. He was wary, that much was blatantly obvious, and he figured Arthur knew it as well, but was doing nothing about it as he silently made his way over and sat across from him, crossing his legs and intertwining his hands on his knees.
Green eyes met blue, then, and he began. "This is your second war as a world power, America. And the second time that you've chosen the winning side. You must feel rather lucky, can you even begin to imagine where you would be if you had been on the Axis? Look at their state… it is safe to say you would have been no better." The Brit's eyes were somber as he spoke, and never wavered from Alfred.
"Luck had nothing to do with this victory, Iggy, you know-." He was suddenly cut off as Arthur continued.
"I would be foolish if I denied the fact that you even played quite a crucial role in this war, as well. Like so many other things, it will go down into the history books someday –which people will study and cite us on all our right and wrong doings. This time period will be judged heavily on what is written alone." His eyes closed for a moment, as if revisiting some past memory he'd had that very experience with. Alfred bit his tongue, waiting for Arthur to continue; to get to his point.
His eyes slowly slid open once more, finding Alfred's instantly and locking on them. "So… that being said let us discuss your actions in this war, Alfred. Let's think about what exactly you've accomplished here."
Alfred swallowed hard and took a deep breath as his eyes became hard on England's. He should have known this was going to happen. He didn't even need to hear the rest of Arthur's words to know exactly what he was going to say. For one, he could just hear it coming as that scolding tone overtook his words. It was the same tone he used to take when Alfred was a child, and they both knew it. Arthur was purposefully treating him like a child, and it was beginning to irritate him, but he bit his tongue.
Green orbs hardened and Alfred had just enough time to tense and brace himself, before the flood gates that were whatever was holding Arthur's words back opened and all of it started to flow out, "I heard the reports, Alfred. Bloody hell, there isn't a day that goes by where there isn't some new report about Japan. Have you even heard them? Have you seen the images, Alfred? Do you even have any idea what you've done? Tell me what's going through your mind when you think of that."
Alfred exhaled, taking the cue that it was finally his turn to speak, but he blanched, wondering what he was supposed to say. He knew what he would say, if he could. He knew what England wanted to hear from him. He wanted to hear that America was sorry for what he'd done to Japan, and that he had already apologized, or something of the sort. But he also knew that it would be futile to try something of the sort. This was England he was talking to, the nation who raised him from as early as he could remember; this wasn't like some person on the street that he could lie to without feeling guilty. Arthur was different. He saw through Alfred like he was glass.
Alfred exhaled before finally responding. "War doesn't make sense, Artie. It's not supposed to and I don't know how it ever could. But I do know there's supposed to be a sense of fairness to it." He bit the inside of his lip, looking away as he was finally unable to stand looking into England's eyes that burned straight through his. "What I did to Japan… he deserved it." His heart clenched in his chest painfully. "You cannot blatantly attack my country and not expect any repercussions from it. My revenge was entirely justified and now he and the rest of the world know what happens when you cross America." He said honestly.
England's eyes seemed to narrow further, a frustrated exhale was released from his nose, "I did not raise you, Alfred, to be a man who resorts to violence. I hoped more than anything you would bypass that violent time in your own history. What you did to Japan was reckless, childish, and foolish beyond anything I could describe." England's eyes never wavered from where they stared holes straight through to the back of Alfred's head.
Arthur knew he was being vague, he wasn't saying everything he could to make the young nation understand the severity of what exactly he had caused. There was a part of him that hoped it would just dawn on the ignorant nation. "You didn't just want to punish Japan for destroying your precious naval base," He continued, "You wanted to show the world 'just how strong America is'. You were showing off, and look at what exactly has come from it. Look what you've caused, America."
England was nearly shaking with rage. He knew that what Alfred had done, it was at least partially his own fault for being the nation to go to America looking for help –thus putting a target on the boy to the enemy, but his own self-righteousness and anger wouldn't allow him to place the blame on himself. "You took your ego and your machismo too far."
Alfred's eyes narrowed on England, his fist clenching on the chair. What did Arthur know about what he'd done? He hadn't been there, he hadn't watched his own ships and his own people dive into the water to their own untimely deaths. He hadn't been shot by one of Japan's planes or felt the vulnerability of not being able to do anything to fix what was going on.
"Why don't you stop acting like you know everything for once, Arthur, you have no idea what you're talking about, do you?" He shot back. "You're mad about this because of the effects; that's it. You're not thinking about the fact that because of what I did, I've more than likely brought Japan down. There's no way he'd want to fight back after what I did, and there's no way he could." He leaned back in his chair, allowing a superior smirk to pass across his lips.
England could hardly believe what exactly he was hearing from his former ward. Who was this blonde nation, he had to wonder. There was no way this was the same boy as the one he had raised, who while he always somehow got into mischief he also possessed the biggest heart he had ever seen, and could never hurt a fly. Seeing him like this now… he could almost see how his growing country and the power it had given him had gone straight to his head.
But, above all else, America was still a child. That's all he was –a child trapped in an adult's body.
Arthur suddenly couldn't control himself, seeing that same little kid in those bright blue eyes, but also seeing this unforgiving, violent nation on the outside hurt him so much, and he was not about to stand for it and allow America to continue on the path he had been. He had raised and taught the boy, and apparently even though he was no longer under England's control, there were still things he needed to be taught.
Jolting up from his seat, he smacked America as hard as he could across the face, throwing the younger nation to the ground. Alfred had just enough time to meet England's green eyes with his own before Arthur was there. He grabbed the collar of Alfred's shirt as tightly as he could, till his knuckles were white, and even then Arthur's grip didn't let up, as it was the only thing keeping him from hitting Alfred again.
"You are a child, Alfred!" He practically shouted at him, "How can you sit there and say that you were justified in what you did to Japan? Do you even know what you caused? Do you watch the reports that come in, or read any of the papers your boss must be getting?" He shook him as he asked each question.
"How many people died in Pearl Harbor, America? How many?" He didn't give him the chance to speak. "Almost twenty-five hundred! Do you remember how much that hurt you physically, boy? Now how many people do you think you killed when you bombed Japan not once, but twice! At least over sixty thousand people, America! And that's not including how many people are going to die as a result of the radiation and food shortages in the area!"
He gripped him tighter if at all possible, holding him so close that Alfred had no other place to look but straight into Arthur's. "Do you have any clue what you've done, boy? No, you don't! Because you're an ignorant child that had a temper tantrum after your base was targeted by the enemy! And with good reason, too! You can't help one side and not expect the other just let you do it, Alfred! You think everything is fair in war, Alfred, and their attack was fair! But what you did was not fair to anyone!
"Look at those reports, America! Look at those people! You targeted innocent people with those attacks, because of something they had no say in! Those are men women and child that you can't bring back! Do you understand yet? They're not like us, Alfred, they're not immortal to things like this! Those were innocent lives that you decided to take away because of your own anger! And for what? For your stupid revenge! Alfred those people will never get another chance at life now because of yout! Think of all the people you have caused to no longer have any family! Think of how many children you caused to lose their parents forever! And then think of how you've affected Kiku, and how his people are going to struggle from this for years and years to come! Do you honestly think people will look back on your actions fondly?"
Arthur couldn't take anymore; he couldn't stand looking at Alfred and knowing what his own ward had caused. Maybe there had been a time before when he could say he had been proud of America for what he'd become on his own. But that time was gone. He'd lost it when he'd done this. And caused this much pain to so many innocent people with no remorse.
He angrily threw Alfred to the floor once more and stood straight up, taking a step back and turning away from him; it was hard to even look at America when he was this angry. "Kiku was my friend, Alfred. We have been friends for longer than you've been a world power, and even though we are at war and fighting against each other, I could never condone such a thing to ever happen to someone I had ever called a friend. Or anyone for that matter. No nation ever deserves that kind of tragedy."
He began to walk away, no longer wanting to deal with America when he was putting up such a pathetic argument, and being so ridiculously childish. He had said everything he could without lashing out even more than he had, and now it was time to leave him with it, to think about it.
"Arthur… Please..." The sudden quiet and almost broken voice caught him and he instantly stopped in place. He wished he didn't have to… he wished he still had the cold heart of a pirate that he used to, which would never even give looking back a thought. But the fact of the matter was that he no longer had that –and especially not for the boy he had taken care of for so long and cared about so much.
Without giving it a second thought he turned in place to look back at the younger nation, seeing him sitting there on the ground, a pile of pieces now compared to how confident he had been just before; his knees now drawn up close to him and tears pricking his eyes, but Arthur could tell he was trying as hard as he could to keep them back. But the task was growing harder for the younger nation. After all, Alfred was just a child in an adult's body… children cried when they were scolded and when they felt guilty. But he figured Alfred was under the impression that he needed to be strong and never show weakness.
Arthur sighed, unable to deny the boy what he knew he wanted. Alfred wasn't silently asking to be forgiven for what he'd done, that wasn't it. No, he was asking for someone to understand. Not his previous position of his actions being right, but… more of where he had been coming from. Arthur knew Alfred just wanted him to understand that he hadn't known any other way. He hadn't known what else to do; because he was a child… just a child who was thrown out into the world before he was ready and without a guide. And that child had been attacked without warning -and when he was, he became afraid of the rest of the world... and wanted to do everything possible to keep it from happening again.
The Brit finally relented, his heart melting at the image of Alfred once again a child, and finally gave the younger nation what he wanted -going back over to him and kneeling down. He pulled Alfred closer to him in an embrace and gently placed multiple kisses on his warm forehead and hairline affectionately, "You're a stupid, stupid child, America." He told him quietly. "That's all you are, a child forced out into things you're not ready to deal with yet." He said with a sigh.
He rested his head atop Alfred's and closed his eyes, trying to forget for a moment what his ward had done, and remember instead just how young he really was. "My only regret is that we did not find you earlier… You are growing up in a world that is in itself growing too fast. Things are no longer simpler like they used to be. You have to face a great many things that the other nations and I never had to before now."
He exhaled once more, kissing the top of America's head. He knew he had no right to be offering this comfort and place of solace for the boy; there was a part of him that said Alfred didn't deserve it after what he had done to Japan.
But the more sensible side told him that if he did not offer America this, and step up once again to show him the error of his ways, as well as teach him the correct things to do instead, then no one else was going to do it. The world was a cruel place these days, and not many people could be trusted with such a task. Alliances were everything, and even though the two nations argued quite a bit, there was no way England could deny that he wanted America to know that he was there for him –to catch the hero whenever he fell, and then put him back on the right road once more. Whenever something like this happened, he wanted America to know that England would stand by and support him.
They both knew what needed to be done know, though –the injustices and wrongs that had been done needed to be corrected as much as humanly possible, relationships needed to be slowly mended. Apologies and so much more were certainly in place between the two nations. It was going to be a long road that both knew was going to take many, many years to correct.
But the damage was done. The emotions felt. The regret held strong. And the pain laced in his heart. All that was left to do… was to pick up the shattered pieces of what once was, and start anew. They need to create something better -though the world would never forget.
"God, grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
Courage to change the things I can:
And wisdom to know the difference."
- Reinhold Niebuhr
Lest we forget...
-The End
A/N: I know… I know… before you run off to hit that review button fifty times just to scream at me, "You wrote a story about the bombings of Japan and didn't even put Japan in it?" let me clarify myself. Yes, I did just write an atomic bomb story and not include Kiku at all. Why? Because the point of this was not to show Kiku, or the effects he faced. The point was to tap into Alfred's mental state before and after the bombings and show just what he might've been thinking. You can show the terrible effects of the bombs on the victims and even on Kiku all day long, but you will never truly understand it, and the entirety of the situation until you tap into their mindsets. That's what I've attempted to do, here.
This story is in it's own way meant to shock people, or strike them emotionally -whether that emotion is anger or sadness, or any other emotion. It's meant to be hard-hitting and leave some form of an impact on you as a person. Because stories like this aren't done nearly enough, but for a series like this, they are needed more than ever. Even in this way, we can keep the memory of what the past held for us alive, and maybe through these, it will help our generation remember -so that we will not be doomed to repeat the tragedies of our past. If this has struck you at all, of if you have any opinion of it, please feel free to leave a review and let me know exactly what you thought, or what it makes you think about.
Please review!
-Forbiddensoul562