No War's Fought By Heroes
America knocks on the door louder. "Japan, dude, open up!" he yells, and groans. He had been stood there for ten minutes now. He would have assumed Japan was out, but China had reported at the meeting that he hadn't seen Japan leave the house since he had surrendered. It seemed most likely that Japan had returned to being a shut-in.
"Dude, just cause we totally beat you doesn't mean you have to go shut yourself in," he shouts, knocking once again, "so open up!" He grumbles, and kicks the door in annoyance. The door swung open with a bang, which surprised America quite a bit. At closer look, he could see that the lock had broken. He frowns, and hesitates for a moment before heading in.
It looked like nobody had lived there for at least a month. Japan had surrendered a month ago...America gulps, having a sudden bad feeling about this. "Japan, dude, this isn't funny!" he yells, wishing somebody else had been given the task of checking on the asian nation. He pauses, staring at the wall opposite him. A trickle of red liquid was dripping down, and a sticky handprint was on a nearby door handle.
America touches it briefly, and sniffs it. It was blood. He goes pale, and runs into the next room. "Japan!" he yells, "Japan, dude, where are you?" Then he pauses, almost missing the pale, stick thin figure lying under a collection of dusty, dirty sheets and rubbish. "Japan?!" he runs over, and crouches next to the older nation. "Come on, dude, this isn't funny..." he stares, cut off, speechless, as he turns Japan over and sees a large bleeding burn mark across the man's chest.
America drops Japan in shock, and skids back. What the hell? What could have possibly caused this sort of damage? He shakes Japan furiously, "Japan, dude, wake up! You're scaring me!" And he was; America was terrified. Terrified because only something really bad could have caused this sort of damage...and he had...he had...
America shakes his head. No way, he was a hero. Heroes didn't do this sort of stuff, right? Course not. Somebody else must have done something. "Come on, dude..." America quickly takes Japan's pulse. It was weak, but it was there. America breathes a sigh of relief and runs over to Japan's phone. It still worked - good.
He pauses, unsure of who to call, then dials the only person he knew to trust. "England, dude, it's me, America," he says, the words tumbling out, "Japan, he, well, he's really badly hurt, I don't know, I was just...he's so...I didn't realise he was alive at first...he looks like a skeleton..." He pauses for breath, and England simply says, "I'll be right over."
True to his word, the Allies were over in barely half an hour. During the time, America hadn't left Japan's side. He was terrified that if he did, Japan would stop breathing and that would be it. He had to do something. But all he could think to do was stay with Japan. China rushes over. "Japan!" he cries, and America blinks at the compassion in the older nation's voice. Of course, Japan and China were once brothers.
"Bloody hell, this looks bad. We need to get him medical attention," says England, and China nods, as does America. Whilst China seemed to have sprung into a full flood of emotion, America just felt empty. He really felt as if he was missing something here, as if he had forgotten something very important. "England, you have free healthcare, right?" asks France, and England nods. "Yes...come on, let's take him quick," says England, concerned about America and China as well as Japan.
"Wouldn't it be quicker for us to take him to China's healthcare service?" asks Russia, but nobody dares say anything as America and China take Japan, trying to keep him from losing much more blood. By the time they reached England's healthcare service, China was beginning to panic over the younger nation, whose pulse had dropped so low they first thought he was dead.
"Please...help my brother, aru," says China, his voice so low it was barely a whisper. The doctor nods. "I'll do my best," he promises, and the Allies watch as Japan is taken into a separate room. There's a pause, with the room becoming still as a photograph; France leant against the wall, Russia stood by him, America with his head hung low sitting on a chair, and England next to him, holding his hand tenderly whilst China stood staring at the door.
Then China spins round and glares at America. "This is your fault, aru!" he yells. Everyone lifts their head, surprised at China's sudden outburst. "What do you mean?" asks England, "how is it his fault?" China glares at him. "Don't play dumb with me, aru! America dropped that bomb, aru, and suddenly Japan ends up with a wound across his chest and nearly dies? No coincidence!" he snaps. America goes pale, and looks away.
The room goes silent, and suddenly China starts sobbing. "He was my little brother...America...how could you?" he murmurs. America doesn't speak for a moment, the shock still settling in. Then he whispers, "I never realised that it would be so bad..." The room returns to the stunned silence, and then he looks up at China.
"If I had realised that it would be this bad, I swear, I'd have never done it. I only wanted to end the war..." he says, and China blinks at him between tears. "...You wanted to end a war, aru," he mutters, "but if my brother dies, I think you can be assured you'll start another." America frowns, and England speaks up. "Are you threatening him?" he asks, and China shakes his head.
"I think that some country in the world will though, aru," he says calmly, and wipes his face, "what he did was terrible, aru. Even if it did end a war...even if it saved lives...you cannot deny that it was indeed a terrible thing to do, aru..." And nobody could argue that. Whether or not America had done the right thing, nobody wanted to say. And nobody could say either. But it was a terrible thing to do, regardless of whether it was the right thing.
"I was only trying to be the hero and end the war," protests America, mostly to himself. "When will you fools realise," says France, speaking up suddenly, "that there are no wars fought by heroes?" England frowns. "When did you become all wise, Fancy Pants?" he snaps. France shrugs. "I just felt like adding to the conversation," he says, "and don't call me that!"
Suddenly, the doctor came back in. "How's Japan?" asks England, as they all leap up, desperate to hear the news. "He's in a stable condition," says the doctor, "it's good that America found him. Otherwise he may well have been dead by now." That makes America feel sick to the core. "He did regain consciousness for a few moments though," says the doctor.
"Did...he say anything...?" whispers America. The doctor nods. "Two words. Hiroshima and Nagasaki," he says calmly, and it sends a cold shiver down America, who promptly got up and went to the bathroom, where he threw up until he was certain there was nothing left in him. He falls to his knees, feeling weak and guilt ridden.
So it was his fault. He had known it from the start, but it was really only now that it really hit home. It was thanks to him, thanks to the hero. Some hero he was - now his friend was in hospital, having nearly died. "I swear," mutters America, "I'll never try and be the hero again..." Someone snorts. "Ha. You'll always try and be the hero, America."
He looks up and sees England crouched next to him. "Come on...you ended the war...and Japan's going to be alright, don't beat yourself up..." But America just glares at him. "Easy for you to say! You didn't almost kill your friend!" he snaps, and runs out of the hospital, not daring to look back, and too afraid to face the other Allies.
America couldn't face Japan for a few weeks afterwards, even once Japan had woken up. He felt guilty, and part of him knew he should feel guilty because of what he had done. It took China and England to convince him to go and see Japan. "It will help you," says England, and China nods. America was still hesitant, but agreed to go and see his old friend - he needed to apologise, if nothing else.
Japan was awake, and sitting up, a bandage wrapped across his chest, when America entered the room. He doesn't say anything, and just watches as America comes and clears his throat. "I'm sorry," he whispers, and, remembering Japan's culture, bows, "I'm so sorry."