Alfred's hand shook as he dialed Kiku's number. It had come to this. It has finally come to this. He put the receiver to his ear, listening to the steady ringing on the other end. Pick up, he prayed, please pick up, please! As he sat there, waiting for Kiku to pick up, he remembered the Potsdam Conference that had taken place a mere month ago. Germany had been divided into various occupation zones, and Poland had been moved around to suit the wish of the Soviets. He remembered the ear-splitting silence that had followed Mr. Truman's announcement that America had an atomic weapon. The statement killed the noise like a well-aimed bullet kills a soldier. People looked at one another, trying to verify the validity of the president's statement in the shocked expressions of their peers. Even the assembled Americans looked at their leader in shock. Up until then, the only ones who had known about the Manhattan Project were the two brains behind it, Alfred, and the president himself. Truman sat back in his chair, letting those around him digest the full weight of the heavy statement.

Curiosity and intrigue sparkled in Stalin's eyes. The Prime Minister of Britain could only stare at Truman. From where he was standing, Alfred watched his boss and tried to pretend Ivan and Arthur were not staring at him much like their leaders were looking at Truman. In his peripheral vision, Alfred could see the face of Ivan mirrored that of his boss. On the other hand, Arthur's mouth hung agape. There was shock in his eyes, but an undercurrent of fear was present as well. Even though Alfred wasn't looked right at Arthur, he knew what the older nation was thinking. He had it, when would America use it? Who would they use it on?

"I'm going to hang up if I don't receive a response."

Kiku's voice shattered Alfred's reverie. He jumped, and fumbled around, trying not to drop the phone.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry! I spaced out there for a minute, dude!" Alfred said once he had a tight grip on the phone.

"Alfred." The reply seeped out of the bottom half of the receiver, steeped in anger and resentment. "Have you called to brag about Midway Island, and Coral Sea?"

"What?" Alfred spluttered, "No, no! That's not why I called at all. Listen, Kiku…" Alfred bit his lip. What should he say? How exactly should he say it? The minute quaking of the phone pressed to his ear made him aware that his hand had begun to shake again.

"Well?" Kiku prompted. Alfred could almost imagine the other nation crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes.

A sigh heaved forth from his lungs. "I've called to deliver a warning: We have two atomic weapons Kiku. We are going to be using them against you. Pass this on to your boss. Tell him you guys need to evacuate the major cities if you want to spare the residents. We will allow you to do that. In fact, we're requesting you do that. Please, Kiku."

At first, Alfred didn't receive a response. Then a strange sound issued from the other end. It sounded as if Kiku was gasping for air. Alfred's heart started hammering. Oh God, Kiku was hyperventilating! Alfred was about to inquire the state of Kiku's health when a flow of sound poured out, and he realized what the reason behind the gasping of air.

Kiku was laughing.

"Kiku…what…" Alfred could not believe his ears. Kiku was laughing. He was laughing! Why?

On the other end, Kiku had calmed down. He coughed, giggled a bit more, then spoke.

"Do you think that will frighten me, Alfred? How stupid do you think I am?"

Alarm bells rang throughout Alfred's head. Kiku wasn't believing him. Disbelief swirled on storm winds, screaming at his brain. Why? Why wasn't he believing him? Alfred tightened his grip on the receiver.

"Kiku, I'm serious. And if you don't tell your boss to evacuate the major cities, innocent people will be killed. Please, Kiku! Why would I lie about this?"

"Oh, you've tricked me before. Midway Island? Cunningly placed your carriers outside the area we thought they would be in, filled air strips with inoperable planes, and filled the cockpits with dummies. Did you forget that? I haven't."

"Kiku, come on, you have to believe me! If this is a hoax, wouldn't you say this is pretty elaborate? I can't act worth a damn, and you know it! Please, take the warning to your boss, and tell him to evacuate the major cities."

"How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"Innocent people will die if you don't heed my words. The order to warn you came straight from my boss. Please Kiku. This is the only warning we're giving you. Listen to us. Listen to me."

Silence. Alfred wondered if Kiku wasn't going to start laughing again.

"Alright. I'll deliver your warning, Susanowo*."

Missing the context of that statement, America sighed. "Thanks. I appreciate it Kiku."

He hung up the phone feeling a bit better now that Kiku had fair warning of what was heading his way. He hoped they would get the citizens to safety.

As Alfred left the room, he turned to see Truman waiting in the hall. The man wore a grim expression. The lights in the ceiling reflected off his glasses, blocking Alfred from being able to fully gauge what his boss was thinking.

"Well? Anything?" Truman asked.

"Kiku said he'll deliver the warning." Alfred sighed, "I hope he believes me. It didn't sound like he did."

Truman strode up to his nation and put a hand on the young country's shoulder. "We've done all we could. If they refuse to heed our words, then they've dug their own graves."

Judging from the hollow tone of the man's voice, Alfred doubted that the president believed the last part of his statement, but he let it slide. As it stood, there was too much tension in the air already. All Alfred could do was hope for the best.

Alfred ground his teeth. This time his hands shook so bad he couldn't even turn the dial of the rotary phone. Truman had been outraged when he'd learned that their warning had been written off as a bluff. He had given Alfred the strict order of warning Japan again.

"This is their last chance." the president had said before walking out of the room.

So here he sat, in a small room, in a wooden chair, in front of a small table, shaking like a frightened child, and clutching the receiver in his hand as if it somehow held the key to salvation. This time, he prayed Kiku would not answer the phone. What would he sound like if he did? Would he be able to speak at all? What if he was still unconscious?

Click! Alfred tensed. On the other end came the sound of ragged breathing.

"What do you…want…now?"

Alfred had to choke back tears. He couldn't help but feel wracked with despair. He had tried to warn Kiku, and he had failed. A weak cough sounded on the other end, and Alfred clenched his free hand into a fist. Last chance. It was his last chance to try, and Kiku's last chance to accept the truth and save his people.

"We're going to bomb you again."

Those were the only words he could manage to say.

The laughter that met his response this time was so much worse. Raspy, weak, and naïve. Oh, so naïve.

"You just don't know when to stop…with the tricks…do you?" Kiku said between bouts of wheezy snickering.

Tricks? What? Alfred forced himself to keep a hold of the phone. Hiroshima had just been laid to waste by a nuclear bomb, one of the two still remained in the arsenal. Kiku had nearly been torn apart by the first one, and he still wouldn't back down?

"What…what the heck are you trying to say?" Alfred's voice started to shake. No, Kiku was bluffing this time, he had to be. Alfred was not lying about this. Surely Kiku knew that too. Right?

"Please, you couldn't possibly have…a second one."

Alfred couldn't stop himself if he tried. At the end of his rope, he slammed his fist down on the table.

"Damn it Kiku! I'm not lying! We have one more A-bomb left in our arsenal, and your island is where it's headed! You don't want to put your people though that again, do you? How many died Kiku? Tell me-"

"You lie. You do not-"

"How many of your people perished after the first one detonated?"

The shriek echoed in the near-empty room. Alfred covered his face. His whole body shook now, the breath tore itself out of his lungs in jagged pants similar to Kiku's breathing. He hadn't meant to lose control like that. Kiku was probably as frightened as he was by that sudden outburst. Too busy in resetting his emotional dials, Alfred almost missed the comment.

"I thought you said I had only one warning."

"I did say that, yes," Alfred told him, "but Truman and I felt that, in light of your action, you needed a second warning. Now, this truly is your last chance. Evacuate the cities and save your people, or be responsible for their lives. The choice is yours."

"…The fact that you would happen to have another bomb similar to the first one is highly impossible. I do not believe you."

All the hope Alfred had going into this conversation plunged into an abyss. Swallowed up by the darkness of despair, never to be seen again. There was nothing he could do. That thought alone drained him, leaving his mind drenched in a gray fog of hopelessness. Somehow, he found his voice, and with a stunning amount of firmness, he replied;

"Very well. Please prepare yourself."

Alfred hesitated for a moment. He could still hear Kiku's labored breathing on the other end. As he sat there, he tried to commit that sound to memory. That may have been the last time he would hear the Japanese man breath. When Kiku replied, his tone was nothing but sardonic.

"I will, Alfred."

A rebellious tear slipped down his face, trying to crack his composure. America swallowed a lump in his throat.

"I'm sorry." he murmured. And with that, he hung up the phone.

August 23rd, 1945. The maid sighed as she glanced at the calendar. It had been a fortnight, and her employer still had not stirred. Of course that did not surprise her in the slightest. Mr. Honda had suffered extensive injuries all over his body. She glanced back over her shoulder to the closed door of his room. He was in there now, sleeping, clinging to life with a fingernail grip. He had refused a hospital, saying that those who had survived the bombings deserved to be there more than he did. Sadness clawed at the young woman's heart. She felt like crying, and not just for her employer, who was always so kind to her, but for everyone who had been caught in the blast from both bombs.

A knock at the door caught her attention. Setting down her dusting rag, she rushed to answer it. Perhaps it was her little brother, back with some more bandages. They had gone though so many these past two weeks that the number of bandages had not dwindled, but instead blinked out of existence. When she opened the door, she stared at the person on the other side. The postman? But why? The mail carrier smiled at her, and gave her a telegram.

"For Mr. Honda." he told her.

"Oh…yes. I'll give it to him when he wakes up."

The postman nodded and walked away. The maid turned and went back into the house. She knew she wasn't supposed to, but her curiosity was killing her. Who on Earth would think to send a telegram to her employer now, of all times? When she read the words, her breath hitched in her throat.

Kiku, this is Alfred stop, I tried to want you, I didn't want this to happen, stop, I am very, very sorry, stop.*

* Susanowo was a brother to Amaterasu. He is sometimes referred to as a trickster because of sibling rivalry. Japan calls America this because he believes America is tricking him

**When sending out telegrams, people would use the word 'stop' in place of a period because periods were expensive to insert