There was no danger to the United States of America. Germany was 4,000 miles away, and was busy trying to defeat Russia at the moment. Japan was almost the same distance away from the west coast, posing no danger to the giant country. An island was no match for a giant land mass after all.
It is still morning in parts of the country. Almost 8:00AM in Hawaii, it is going on 1:00PM in Washington, D.C, a typical lazy Sunday in the White House is occurring. FDR however, is locked in his office with some military leaders, refusing to let anyone visit him, as new messages related to the Japanese filter in.
Alfred is not worried. He is certain that Japan and his government are just unintentionally offended by some of his actions lately, they do have quite the culture gap. When Japan comes over again, Alfred will be very certain to explain to Kiku that he meant no disrespect in his actions, and hopes that Kiku will understand and accept his apology.
He does not know Japan feels no disrespect.
He does not know Kiku feels no remorse for what he has done, or about what he is about to do.
Alfred does not know Kiku is on the attack.
Now, no one could ever expect an attack on America's heartland, it was simply too far from other countries to be worried about, and the provinces and places America had stretched out too had be relatively safe from injury as well. MacArthur was protecting his favorite territory, the Philippines, with all the courage and strength he could muster, and was only defending against wild chickens at the moment. Alfred was protecting his small fledging of Hawaii, who was still stubbornly refusing statehood, but had consented to the naval bases on it, allowed to name them herself. Alfred enjoyed watching his little territory grow and change as American ideals slowly filtered into her essence. She was not the same Hawaii as when she was found. No one dared hurt her.
When something bad happens on one of his military bases, Alfred feels it. Often times before the country, state, or territory where it happens. When someone stubs his toe, when two men get into a fight, when an office sneaks his wife onto base for a date on the roof looking at the stars. All of it. Alfred feels all of it throbbing inside him, keeping him sane, causing him happiness as he felt the joy and pride of his military. He feels all his people as well, swelling and massing within him as they are overall happy, the depression is ending, times are looking up, and there are less and less reasons to be upset. Alfred's favorite things to 'hear' in his head are the babies that learn how to laugh, and feel their joy as they begin to recognize their mother's, and start to toddle towards their father's when they come home from work.
What he feels now is confusion.
And then pain.
Alfred stops in his tracks, forcing the people walking around him to stop as well, looking at him in confusion and worry as his face grows whiter and whiter, his lips turning blue before it all turns red. Alfred's eyes water as he looks at the faces surrounding him without seeing, only pale blurs warp through his limited vision; his chest begins rising and falling faster and faster.
It is 12:55 P.M in Washington D.C, and 7:55 AM in Hawaii.
Alfred is not in much pain, he can still walk, and his breathing has slowed down. More than likely, it was just the result of some soldiers being startled away for early morning drills. No one expects to have to get up early on a Sunday morning, not even soldiers after being allowed in town the night before. He shakes his head, brushing off the hairs raised on his neck, the sinking feeling in his stomach, and the sense of dread that trickles through his body, making every point painful to move as he continues to walk towards FDR's office, and away from the First Lady's luncheon. He doesn't feel like eating any more chicken noodle soup today.
1:10P.M, D.C time- 8:10 A.M, the USS battleship Arizona explodes, and Alfred screams as the fire races up around him, and the men are screaming too, as their souls are ripped in pieces from their bodies, Alfred, and this world. Blood squirts it's way out of Alfred's fingernails as he falls to the ground, knocking his knees against each other and his head on the hardwood floor. He doesn't care, he can't care. He can't feel much more pain than he is at this moment. Until he feels the burns that are steadily spreading over his arms, clawing and biting, leaving traces of acid blisters and blood behind. People are on their knees around him, touching him, hurting him, talking to him, but Alfred cannot make out the words. All he hears are the roars and shrieks as planes dive bomb around him, turning tightly and chasing men as they try to run for their lives, or risk their lives to save other lives. His legs begin to tighten until he is howling from the pain as so many men are having theirs burned off, and he feels all their pain as his own. His men's pain are his pain, and Alfred can feel the lapping of the oil covered waves against his raw skin, he can feel the flaming oil slipping its way down his throat and into his lungs, and he can feel the exhausted last breath of so many man as they slip until the chopping waves, thankful for the pain to finally be over.
1:20 P.M Washington, D.C - 8:20 A.M Hawaii time, FDR has had Alfred dragged into the Oval Office and set on a couch, were he can seize and thrash and cry all he wants, because FDR understands. Eleanor has had the guests leave as quickly as possible, and though they do not understand, they respect her and leave. She joins them in the office, while her husband sitting next to Alfred, his hand on the boy's head, his other hand resting on the phone, waiting for the phone call they know will come.
They've been attacked.
They only question was where.
Alfred is still in too much pain to believe that something like this could be happening. He can barely even fathom where his people are right now, and he can't believe the glimpses of the scene he is seeing. And Alfred refuses to believe that he has seen a green plane with red circles on the wing dive bombing his ships, because that isn't possible.
1:30 P.M Washington D.C – 8:30 A.M Hawaii time, the phone rings and FDR picks it up, silencing every voice in the room except Alfred's, who is starting to feel the pain recced as the men in the water lose their fight with life. The phone call is brief, and FDR's eyes widened, "My God, there's another wave of Jap planes over Hawaii right this minute." Nodding his head briefly, he sets the phone back in the receiver, and gravely looks around the room, "Pearl Harbor."
The advisors in the room take a collective deep breath before exhaling with heavy hearts and shakes of their heads. This wasn't supposed to happen. How could this happen? How had the radar not picked up a large number of enemy aircraft coming? Why was this happening?
Alfred forced himself to sit up on the couch, forced himself to look at FDR and Eleanor with tears leaking out of his eyes. Forced himself to say what he could not believe.
"Ki-." He cut himself off, taking a shuddering deep breath before shaking his head and ignoring the new pain that was beginning to well in his body, as new men are targeted and killed, or rescued out of the water, no longer breathing.
"Japan." He says in a strangely hollow voice. And that is all Alfred says, before being swept back into the fury of the battle raging, of men trying to get out of their barracks and to their guns, to shoot down the damn planes before they killed them. To get into that lifeboat, and to try to rescue the crew members still screaming for their lives in the water, who still didn't realize that they were missing something. He hears his song playing in a man's head as he is dragged from the water in a delirium, spying the flag as it flaps against the harsh background of smoke and sunrise, and the man smiles. It is a painful, forced smile, tightening burned flesh, but it is still a smile, and it makes Alfred cry all the harder when the man smiles in death as well.
The view of his battleships firing valiantly into the sky, only to be hit by the next bombing wave, and the new ships being built, destroyed before they hit the water was painful for Alfred to watch, but nothing was as painful of the view of the water, where his men still bobbed up and down in the waves, as soldiers tried to balance rescuing, fighting, and keeping themselves alive. It is an hour later, and Kiku has brought reinforcements.
FDR sits silently, his hand on top of Alfred's, who switches between sweating and freezing, shivering all the same as the lives start to slip away at a slower rate now, and the pain starts to recede as nurses begin tending to the wounded. He feels the waxy lettering on his forehead as the nurses mark anyone who receives pain medication with large 'M's written in their lipstick to prevent an overdose and subsequent death. Some of the men beg for the extra dose, their pain still etched on their faces as skin falls off in chucks, slipping off due to gravity.
Eleanor is silent, using hers and her husband's handkerchiefs to mop the sweat off Alfred's face, only becoming faintly alarmed when they slowly begin to turn pink, as the skin on Alfred's face starts to slowly slough off, leaving delicate capillaries exposed to the harsh salt covered fabric being rubbed over Alfred's face. Alfred's head is bleeding, from what he isn't sure. Maybe it was when he hit his head on the floor, so many hours ago. Or maybe it's another injury from his men. Either way it is bleeding onto the couch in the Oval Office, but no one will complain. They can get a new couch. Alfred cannot get new men.
At 3:00 P.M, Washington D.C – 10:00 A.M Hawaii time, Kiku scans the harbor below him carefully, angry at himself. The object was not truly met, they had not found the United States' air carriers. However, he thought to himself with a twisted smile, this was something Alfred was not capable of recovering from. He was still too young, too weak, and too naïve to survive something like this war. In a way, Kiku was saving Alfred from the long drawn out horror of the war that would have come had they not done this. Alfred could now stay where he was without feeling guilty, as he forced himself to try to get over his wounds, which would be severe. Alfred was much too close to his people, retaining his ability to feel their emotions and what was happening. He would not be able survive an attack like this very easily. There was a slight feeling of dread in Kiku's heart as he turned his plane away to lay down one last hail storm of bullets as he flew away, the other planes catching his signal and following, but it soon came to pass as Kiku noticed a loss of several planes. Alfred would not be the same after this, and Kiku would not have to worry about him getting in the way while he finished off China. Kiku had no doubt that Alfred would stay out of this war.
3:10P.M Washington D.C time is the last time Alfred feels one of his men hit with a bullet, and it is a nonfatal shot, just a hit to the arm. But a bullet wound from a plane is much different than a bullet shot by a gun. The arm is lost, and the man will surely bleed out before the doctors can get to him, so many men need more attention than him. Exhausted, bruised, burned and battered, Alfred collapsed back on the couch, finally allowing Eleanor to treat his bleeding body. She would excuse the blood that had soaked into the couch, and left trails on the handkerchiefs. She would tenderly wrap bandages around Alfred's arms, covering the bright shiny blisters that burned him. His clothes would be burned, and he was wrapped in a robe, for some modesty, but mostly so she could see all his wounds. The burns on his legs were severe, skin twisted into piles of black and red blisters, painful to look at. Alfred bore the dressings in silence, allowing only the occasional whimper to pass his lips. As she finished tying the last bandage around Alfred's head, she looked at him, the America who had left lunch today with a joke on his tongue was browbeaten and defenseless.
"Sleep, Alfred," she tells him gently, pushing him back in his bed, making sure his head hit the pillow softly, "it's our turn to take care of you."
Alfred nodded and shut his eyes, tears leaking out of the corners. There was no reason to stop crying yet, even in sleep.
"My God, there's another wave of Jap planes over Hawaii right this minute." ~FDR
This is an actually quote from FDR, he was on the phone with the Governor of Hawaii at the time when the second wave of Japanese plans started to attack Pearl harbor. I changed the timeline in the story just a wee bit, because that was the best way I could fit the quote in the story, because I felt it was an important quote to put in the story where it was to show a sense of betrayal from Alfred.
"He hears his song playing in a man's head as he is dragged from the water in a delirium, spying the flag as it flaps against the harsh background of smoke and sunrise, and the man smiles."
This is a reference to a sailor on deck of a ship, who saw the flag fluttering against the smoke, and told people afterwards he heard the Star Spangled Banner in his head. I have adapted what actually happened to fit this story