So my friend gave me a challenge: Write an angst/fluff about Serious!America and Cynical!Korea. It must have both angst AND fluff in it, and you MUST include Insane!Japan and Insane!Russia. Korea MUST be the one angsting. America must be the reason why Korea feels so down.

There must be a character dying.

Rape must be involved, explicit or implied.

Other characters are allowed, and the length must exceed 10000 words, not including the Author's note. It has to be a single, continuous, oneshot.

You must post it on tumblr and FF net.

You have a deadline of 3 days.

This isn't probably what my friend intended, but here you go- I had a deadline of 3 days, and so I barely had time to do proper research. I apologize if there are any historical errors (And there probably are a lot), please tell me. I seriously need a person with knowledge in Korean History. And American History. And Russian History. And Modern Warfare (In the Korean War, anyway) in general.

Characters are extremely OOC. Took a lot of liberty with Korea's "fundamentally serious" part.

BTW, this was NOT betaed. Forgive me for any errors.

No countries were meant to be bashed.

Korea and South Korea are different people- that's how I imagine it to be. You'll get what I mean when you start reading.

WARNINGS: IMPLIED RAPE (is dub-con), OOC-ness, swear words. AU if you consider South Korea not existing before then end of WWII AU, a slightly different Revolutionary War than the Hetalia one. Forced RusAme, Russia and Japan basically being all communist/imperialist (Not that those two in itself is bad) and raping people here and there. (Over used trope, yes I know.) I'll let your imaginations run wild.

Kimchiburger overall, but more brotherly than anything.

If you don't like it, the back button is right there.

Flames will not be tolerated, and if I do get them, they will be ignored.

T because M is apparently for explicit sex. -.- (DON'T YOU DENY IT.)

I apologize in advance for the length of this fic.


It was that day, the day when he had stepped into the world, that day when his history had gone into major upheaval.

His birthday.

It was a day laced with bittersweet memories, a day he wanted to forget but yet, at the same time, keep to his heart forever. Confusion, terror, and wariness had reigned his days back then, but America had been there. Everything was over now… It had turned out all right… Or so he had been telling himself for the last few decades.

Focus.

South Korea laughed warily, tying his jeogori as he laced them loosely with familiar tightly enough so that it wouldn't unravel, but not that tightly so that it wouldn't be all... stuck up. Just like England and America in the olden days. He had seen the photo albums that the western nation would show him, a nostalgic smile on the nation's face. Their citizens had been so pompous then. Everything had been laced up tight- Just how did those women move around in those... corsets?

"No wonder England acts like he has a stick up his arse,"

Korea muttered to himself, checking himself in the mirror. He had changed out of the so-called- 'hanbok' he usually wore and was donning a more traditional one that the past Korea had actually worn in the older days. Before the Japanese occupation.

The hanbok was small, he noted, as he checked himself in the mirror; but it wasn't as small he would have expected it to be. It would have fit him if the sleeves were a little longer. He creased his eyebrows as he gave himself another once over- the jeogori was little off. He'd better retie it.

He had grown, after the IMF crisis that had hit him after the Korean War. The Miracle of the Han River, his people had called it. What had been shabby houses lining the streets had been replaced with towering skyscrapers in less than 60 years, and he had joined many national organizations- one of which was the G20. He had even held the summit in 2010- The first country outside of the G8 to hold it.

Considering this economical leap, he shouldn't be surprised with his height, and he wasn't- he had worked for every millimeter of it, he and his people. They had sacrificed and they had gained. It was truly a human victory, and he was so proud of his people, how they had worked their asses off. Faster, they would say. Faster. Speed was essential then. The more you did the faster they could get out of the economic crisis. And that habit had moved over to the modern times, as it could be evidenced by the people running to and fro.

Korea stretched as far as his small Hanbok would allow, taking care to not rip the age-worn material. He shouldn't dwell on these memories, he thought. This was now, this was the present, not the past. There was no need to dwell on things that were already engraved in stone- all he had to do was lead his nation to a bright future, whatever had happened on his birthdays aside. And who would remember his birthday except for China and Japan? He doubted anybody would.

Everybody knew America's Nation birthday because of his parties- July 4th. The way he flaunted it with fireworks and red and white and blue was obvious, too. He had heard about the Revolutionary War from America; America had laughed it off, but he couldn't hide the disturbed waters of his mind, clearly reflected in his sky blue eyes. Revolution. He could relate somewhat, even though it was only through hazy memories that weren't exactly his.

Well, the past was the past, and he'd better get this hanbok off and change to more casual clothes. It was his birthday- What should he do? Korea wondered, tying his hair up. It didn't seem plausible to let this day go to waste. Hmm... He just wanted this day to himself, without any responsibilities and thoughts that had burdened him as a country. He just wanted to be Yong Soo, the teenager (Perhaps not a teenager anymore), not Korea, the nation. The country didn't know of this, as it was his personal birthday- The country would be celebrating the nation's birthday on August 15th. His heart warmed at the thought- He loved his country with all its quirks. He would stand by it through and through.

He threw on a T-shirt and shorts, silently thanking the heavens that it wasn't raining today. Pushing a baseball cap on his head and grabbing a fan from his desk, Korea snuffed on his sandals and dragged his feet out of the door as his face hit the somewhat humid air. It was summer in Korea, though that would take a turn in early September, when the temperature would start falling and the air would become much dryer.

Walking around in the modern city, Yong Soo hummed as he wondered where he should go- Myungdong, perhaps? Or maybe he should visit somewhere more historical? Maybe he would just go to the local park. He decided on the third option; he didn't have any money for the subway, which was a pity. He loved his subways. It was a complicated network under his capital that could take you anywhere, and did he mention it had free Wi-Fi?

Oh, wait, he had a credit card in his left pocket. He must have left it there… Then that meant he could get on the subway. Yong Soo switched directions, humming in anticipation as he weaved through the crowds of people milling around.

Flapping his fan once in awhile in a futile attempt to beat away the hot stuffy air, Yong Soo sighed happily as the outside did wonders to clear up his cluttered mind, stuffy or not. He twirled his trademark ahoge around his finger as he smiled at his people going about their daily lives, the hustle and bustle making him feel at home. Korea was independent now. They were stepping up to the world stage... and nobody could control him. Not anymore. Not Japan, who had forced the past Korea to kneel under him for decades, and not even America, who had viciously torn his ancestor in two along with Russia.

Yong Soo winced, putting an unconscious hand to his heart. It hurt. He could still hear the wails of people who longed for their parents, their siblings, their children, separated by one single line that was nigh impossible to cross.

One line.

One single fucking border.

Yong Soo creased his brows, a frown making a home on his face. He envied Matthew (Yes, he knew the Northern nation existed and he certainly knew his name) and Alfred so much- they were brothers, and they had one of the friendliest borders in the world. Here- they were twins, from one being, and they had one of the most heavily guarded borders in the world.

The difference was infuriating.


He had felt it as soon as the decision was made. He had felt it in the way he had felt his heart falter, fire searing through his body and threatening to melt his being down. Korea (Was that who he was now?) gasped, grasping himself tightly as he felt old wounds tear open and bleed, his body's seams literally coming apart. A wordless scream threatened to erupt from his mouth and echo into the heavens- oh god, this hurt, this hurt so much... He swore that his internal organs were rupturing, creating black holes of pain, and he was proved right when he coughed up blood, spraying the ground front of him with thick red droplets that glistened in the setting sun. The spirit representative pulled his legs up to the bench, trembling violently; if it was from fear or from pain, he didn't know. Probably both.

The door opened with a dying croak, soft footsteps padding onto the smooth wooden floor.

Korea painfully raised his head as he heard the door close, hot fury raging in his eyes as a tear made a path down his bloody face. He didn't have raise his head all the way to know who it was that stopped short at the sight of his blood dripping a river down the polished floor, surprise lighting the western nation's eyes before it gave way to grim acceptance.

"You. Promised."

Was the heated voice of the torture ridden nation, cold betrayal mixed in as he spoke in trembling English. The other nation merely tilted his head, not moving as he watched a wave of pain rack the bloodied spirit front of him, red staining the white dress shirt and turning the field of snow into a morbid map of scars. Betrayed dark brown eyes locked with cold, icy blue, and the older, eastern, nation pursed his lips at the unrelenting poker face of the younger, western, one. More tears made trails down the elder's face- it hurt, it hurt... He hated this, how his people were just treated like a pawn, his fate just tossed casually on the table and played with, pushed from one hand to another until someone decided it would do well as a target for shooting practice.

And shoot they did.

"You promised...that you would drive the Soviet Union out… Yet you just decide just to tear us in two?"

Korea got out, words barely coherent from how he was shaking. He screamed out as he felt his bones splinter, sobbing. Please stop, please stop… He would take the torture that Japan had dished out over this any day. Korea looked at America with tearful eyes, and he saw that the American's face was pale, having taken a step back in surprise when he had screamed.

Promises. Empty empty promises. He never should have trusted the American. He had been foolish, and it was costing him his life. All nations were the same. ..they were all the same. Just because the blond haired nation was on the winning side of the war and had retrieved him from the clutches of the Japanese didn't mean it'd make him different.

He was Korea. Joseon. Daehan Jaeguk- He had undergone many names and many changes, but he was still the same nation with the same people. He had undergone many wars and many conflicts; and while he hadn't been an active participant of World War II, he certainly knew how it turned and what the consequences were. Politics were politics; everyone had the same mindset when it came to it. Time had no toll on how people thought. It wasn't so hard to form an educated guess; though he had to admit his... ah, sessions with Japan had helped somewhat- he had used to have nothing to do except listen to Japan brag about how he was winning the god forsaken war. Except scream. God. Japan knew how to push all the buttons and he would have wished Japan would just kill him if he hadn't known that would have had a devastating effect on his country.

That didn't stop him from asking why though- Why didn't Japan kill him? It would have brought down the will of his nation faster he could say "World domination", and therefore that much easier for Japan. Korea should have known better, he really should have... He still remembered the sadistic smile that had stretched out on the demon's face; a smile borne from the devil himself.

"I've been waiting,"

The imperial spirit had said, humanity long lost to the rabid animals within. He had raised his hand and stroked a pale finger across Korea's cheek, almost touching, almost not; Korea would have said it had been loving and tender if it hadn't been for the circumstances. The empire nation had bent down to his height, but Korea knew it wasn't out of respect; rather, it was for quite the opposite.

"For you to ask that question."

Japan had breathed, close lipped smile giving way to a much more feral, teeth bared one. His blood stained breath filled the air around him, and Korea had to do everything he could not to choke.

"Did you know that your women never really did satiate me?"

Of course he knew. How could he not know that his women were being used as sex slaves when he heard their cries echo in his mind and heart? When he could see the world through their eyes each time he closed his eyes? When Japan made it a ritual to bring one of Korea's women into the room he was chained into, and force him to watch as the Japanese violated one of his own? Japan always went on long after the woman had stopped screaming for him to stop, sometimes long after the woman's heart had stopped beating. Japan was a fucking nation. He had much more stamina than a normal human. Korea had always sobbed and thrashed in his chains, told him to take him instead, but Japan had never indulged. He had always said that there would be a time and place for that, but it wasn't now.

Sadistic bastard.

"That doesn't answer my question."

He answered, forcing the words out as he tried to hold back tears at the memories.

"Oh, oh, but it does. You see, now's the time and place."

A clichéd answer, one he should have expected. Korea's blood had run cold and Japan had chuckled at the pale face of fear, lazily winding a strand of Korea's dark brown hair around his finger. A knife had been unsheathed and the black-with-dried-blood dress shirt had been torn open- Not that it had been covering much in the first place, it had been ripped here and there from the knives Japan would stick into him. The same went with his tattered pants... Japan had totally dominated him that day….

He couldn't remember what exactly happened when the American troops had found him- he had been delirious from pain and he had been blind in one eye. 'The floor had been slick with fresh blood,' one report had said. 'It was a miracle that the guy was still alive.' Korea had snorted at that- His status as a nation healed him fast enough, regenerating new blood cells, healing cuts- but it had hurt like hell. And it still hurt. Being a nation was a curse, he would think when alone. Eternal life and speed healing wasn't at all it was cracked up to be.

At least they had been kind enough to secure him before they dropped the bombs on Hiroshima. His nation was in turmoil enough- they didn't need their nation-spirit to die on top of it. It would truly be a disaster then.

" I am under oath to do what my government says. The division will be temporary."

The western nation said without emotion, his voice a monotone. Bullshit, Korea thought venomously. America had taken control of half of him for a reason. They had been the ones to request that the Soviet stop at the 38th parallel. It had been hard, two nations occupying him for so long; considering they themselves were on the verge of war… Every day would be a day trapped in his head, listening to the insanity that was one half of his people listening to the Soviets and the other half listening to the States. Literally being torn in two by two nations that weren't even friendly to him.

The western nation looked away as a new wave of betrayal filled Korea again, but the Korean's time was nearly up- he didn't have the power to take it out on the young nation anymore. The pool of blood crawling steadily over the polished wood had now reached the tips of America's feet- Korea watched as America stared at it, before averting his eyes again. Korea let out a sharp bark of laughter, blood spraying as he let painful laughter echo in the room. It subsided quickly, Korea's mirthless eyes contrasting with the small, self-deprecating smirk he wore on his face.

" Pathetic,"

He said, and the single word rang still in the air, and Korea watched as America snapped his head up to him. Morbid interest was the only thing that kept him watching as the western nation balled up his hands and came over to him in two quick strides, hand drawn back- Sloppy angle, He had no idea how he had defeated Japan if he had learned self-defense like that…

The intended punch connected with his face, and Korea sprawled out on the floor, curling up in the scarlet lake of his own blood. His ears were ringing, and his sight was blurring as the world spun- He couldn't quite distinguish where America's hairline ended and his face began. Said American was breathing heavily, hands still balled up- He had pulled the punch, Korea knew. Or his neck would have snapped and he would be dead already… Dead, away from this world that had abandoned him. Away from the pain.

"Then what else was I supposed to do?"

America asked, his freezing cold voice slicing the room's tension and bringing the temperature down a few degrees.

" Let your whole country be overrun by the Soviet Union? Maybe that would have been better. Let your citizens starve while the Soviets pig out on your resources. The Soviet was going to use you like Japan did- do you really want to repeat what you went through? Think of the world, Korea. The Soviet Union was after world domination! FUCKING WORLD DOMINATION! "

America growled out the last words, and Korea looked up at him as his stomach tried to heave up his lunch. America's quiet rage barely registered in his head- Oh yes, he felt the tense atmosphere, but the words didn't quite go through. He seemed to be going deaf, the eastern nation noted dazedly. But was what America said really true? No, no… Maybe…Yes? The Korean's eyes lazily closed, pain giving way to numbness. He couldn't feel himself anymore.

"That would have been much better."

He suddenly said, smiling as if drunk. The drawled out answer was enough to anger the western nation more, and he swung at the Korean- It hit again, and it hurt like hell, but Korea had gone past the point of caring about the pain.

He wanted to die.

America took a step back, breathing heavily. The Korean saw this and attempted a smile, which came out into a mirthless, deranged twist of the lips, eyes coloring in with insanity.

"Much better,"

The nation repeated, dropping his head as he gave up trying to focus on the blonde haired nation. Black bangs covered his eyes, and he could hear America let out a relieved sigh.

"To you, I'm just a pawn. At least the Soviet Union recognizes our government, no matter how impromptu it might be. At least they know how our people work. What are you compared to them? All you wanted was something that could ease the situation at home somewhat. Something to ease your OWN fears. It's not for the world, dividing us in two. You don't really care about us- or the world. To you, we're not… Real."

The nation whispered, shuddering again. The spasms had subsided for a while, but it looked like it was starting up once more, determined to destroy the nation it was inhabiting.

"Ivan may be using me as a tool too, but at least he's much more considerate about it. What do you have? You're just forcing us to do your bidding. You're no better than Japan, democracy be damned."

America snapped. The tall nation pulled the eastern nation up by the collar of his dress shirt, ignoring the sharp cry of pain that burst from the nation's lips.

"How. Dare. You."

America said, knuckles white. Korea coughed up blood, and he knew that America didn't care. He had crossed the line, and they both were sensible people- they both knew where the line lay.

Silence reigned the room as America tried to put his furious thoughts into a coherent sentence- Or that's what Korea assumed the nation was trying to do- but Korea beat him to the punch.

"Communism…It has to be better…. Than being torn in two…"

He didn't offer an apology, and neither did America attempt to put him down on the ground. Korea's eyes looked up again. And America flinched.


"A-Yo, Yong Soo!"

Was the rambunctious shout, and Yong Soo recognized it immediately- He would recognize that American accent anywhere. He groaned slightly as curious glances turned his way as the foreigner came his way, but his smile was genuine- how could it be not, when he owed the American so many things? Yes, he envied the friendly border he shared with Matthew, but that didn't mean that the Asian nation hated him.

Yong Soo turned around to see the American's carefree smile melt into a full blown grin, the Western nation coming over to him in a couple of long strides.

"What's up, daze?"

Yong Soo asked the American as the nation put an arm around his shoulders. Alfred grinned as he held up a brown bag of McDonalds to go; Yong Soo rolled his eyes.

"Please don't tell me you just came here to eat McDonalds."

Alfred mirrored his roll of his eyes, with a good-humored grin on his face. He unwrapped his arm from the Korean's shoulders.

"Dude, of course! I thought I was going to die on that airplane ride- how dare they not serve McDonalds? "

Was the bordering on sarcastic answer; key word being almost. Yong Soo wouldn't have tacked that word on if it wasn't Alfred- anything related to McDonalds was never 100% sarcastic with him. They moved towards a bench, and Alfred peeked into the bag, before reaching in and tossing the Asian a BigMac. YongSoo caught it deftly, half- unwrapping the crinkly paper that all burgers came in. Taking off the circular shaped paper that kept the BigMac's insides from spilling out and in shape, He returned his hands to the half-peeled paper, watching Alfred take it a step higher and just unwrapping the whole thing.

"You really should wash your hands."

Yong Soo mentioned, taking a bite out of the heart-attack inducing junk food himself, sitting on the bench Alfred had put the sack on to free his hands. The "Daze" ending had been lost a few sentences ago- Alfred knew how he really talked. How he really was. Alfred sat down beside him, the bag between them.

"Muh dun't 'eally care. You know, we serve these in boxes back in America."

Came the reply, getting clearer at the end as Alfred forced the burger down.

"Yes, and this is the first time you've told me that."

Yong Soo said, rolling his eyes. Alfred smirked, tossing a gaze that clearly was meant to evoke him and took another bite - Yong Soo watched as the American nearly choked, bursting into full-out laughter when the nation looked around frantically for a drink. Yong Soo handed him one of the drinks that Alfred had brought along with him, grin threatening to split his face in half.

"This is Sprite!"

The western nation shouted, dismayed, after pouring half of the drink down his throat with the burger. Yong Soo merely laughed, tears of mirth threatening to spill from his eyes. He had no idea why this was so funny- it just was. Maybe he had really lost it.

"Mine was Coke!"

Continued the enraged nation, and Yong Soo's laughter ceased, shaking his head side to side. Typical answer.

"Who cares anywa-"

Yong Soo started, knowing that the American would cut in.

"I care!"

And he never failed to disappoint. The childish reply made Yong Soo smile. He could see why Arthur had been reluctant to let go of Alfred, politics aside.

"You can have both."

Yong Soo said, pushing the coke filled paper cup to him. He didn't really care for soft drinks at the moment. He'd have to work it off later anyway, along with this BigMac- Yong Soo thought about the military uniform hanging in his house, making a face. Korea. The only place where almost all healthy men over 20 knew how to shoot. Go out to the busiest streets in Korea, yell that you were taking a survey, who knows to operate a tank? It was a given that at least one person would raise his hand.

The American seemed to have failed to notice the quick flash of emotion flitting over the black haired male's face, drinking happily from the coke, having yelled a big thank you to the Korean.

Yong Soo should have known better.


Empty empty empty. America stared into the depths of black-brown, trying hard not to look away. They were so vacant….

Those eyes. He had seen them when he had charged into the room Japan was supposed to be in- He had been the head of the Japanese nation spirit's assassination attempt. Imagine his surprise when he hadn't been met with the insane nation he had been chasing; but with one of the nation spirits Japan had been holding hostage.

Vacant, broken, brown, almost-black eyes that held no emotion. "Kill me" had been the message replayed across the field of suicidal emptiness. It was the same eyes now, the one he had seen on the naked, blood and feces covered spirit he had found in the room, which could have been considered royal if it hadn't been for the beaten man hanging from the ceiling. Various other torture devices had lined the wall, and America could only imagine what they had been used for.

It was at that thought America let go of the nation-spirit, telling himself it was just the rambling of a dying nation and he really shouldn't pay heed to it. Korea crumpled to the ground and let out a gasp, sucking in air as he tried to alleviate the sudden pain. Not a good idea, America commented to himself detachedly. Korea learned it the hard way as he coughed up more blood.

"It has to be better…."

Korea wheezed. The message was clear to America- Korea would rather go through the path of communism as a whole rather than being chucked into the responsibility of two countries and split into two. Considering how he and the Soviet Union hated each other, there was probably a high chance that the two would never unite again… Korea had understood quite clearly what this… conversation between him and the Soviet Union had meant. (And England too, but frankly, he didn't really seem to care about Korea at all.)

Korea cracked a painful grin, eyes closing shut. He spasmed once more, before relaxing; he looked peaceful, almost. Like an angel had come to him and had removed his burden from his shoulders, like it had said he could rest now, this was not his responsibility anymore.

"This'll come back to haunt you, America. In more ways than one. I hope you can deal with the consequences."

Were his soft last words, the sound waves just barely reaching America's ears. Korea finally let go of himself, will power the only thing that was keeping him substantial. He was gone for real now, he knew, as he let himself to the air. No longer tied to the ground, no boundaries of land keeping him tied to the mortal world. The nation's responsibility reclaimed by the earth, and his soul finally, finally, claimed by the sky.

America reverted his eyes to the Asian as the nation disappeared, tendrils of its history vanishing into nothingness. He could see how he had lived, America thought morbidly as the nation's life flashed by his eyes. Was this normal?

He stood there until the last of the dying nation finally wisped out, spiraling into the air, the only proof that the spirit had existed being the fresh blood dripping from the bench. Korea had bled so much, that he had difficulty maintaining eye contact; he had truly been soaked in red...Was that how a nation died? Truly disappeared from the plane of existence? God, he hadn't thought that it would be that bloody.

He… really hadn't thought it would be that bloody….


"Spill it."

Alfred demanded, after a few minutes of companionable silence after their meal. Quote marks around "Companionable"- Yong Soo hadn't minded the silence; actually preferring it on this particular day. Alfred head been a different matter, however, and Yong Soo had felt the American shift around, uneasy, before settling into watching Yong Soo.

Yong Soo merely raised an eyebrow- Spill what?- knowing that it'd irritate the blonde- and so it did.

"Christ,"

Alfred groaned, clasping a hand on Yong Soo's shoulder. His other hand ran a trail down his own face, eyes blinking a couple of times before glaring at the grinning Asian.

"Last time I checked, I wasn't a holy deity in the heavens."

Yong Soo commented amusedly, grin turning into a twisted half smile.

"Don't play the innocent card today. You're not usually this fucked up."

Came the heated reply- Yong Soo had to laugh. Alfred clearly was not expecting this response, as indicated by the surprise on his face- which quickly turned into a face of grim resignation.

"When was I ever not fucked up?"

Yong Soo asked airily, having fun in how America tried to figure out what exactly was wrong with him today. A sadistic past time, he knew, but it was one he thoroughly enjoyed.

Except when America (who wasn't as much an idiot every one thought) struck gold.

"It's your birthday, isn't it?"


The first thing he had noticed was the blood around him. Blood blood blood blood blood. The second thing he had noticed was that there was a man in front of him- a giant, suit wearing man who had this stupefied expression on his face, eyes wide. The third thing he had noticed was that there were lights swirling all around him, swathing him, protecting him. Lights. Pretty lights.

Who was he and what was the man doing there? Why was there blood all around him? He looked at his hands- So small. How did he know all these things? That the syrupy red liquid on the polished, wooden floor was blood, that the things the man had on his nose were called glasses? A barrage of languages hit him- This was Korean, this was English. Was that Chinese he heard flutter by in his mind?

"By God."

The man muttered under his breath. English. That was English. 'By God', he said. Shin-i-shi-yeo. Korean equivalent for it. Korean. Korea. Was that who…what he was? It felt right. What was he? Who was the person standing before him?

The man crouched down, and he looked into his eyes. Blue. Endless blue. Why did it look and feel so strange, out of place? Weren't eyes usually brown or black?

The light left him, and he gasped as full reality hit. He collapsed to the floor, clothes (Clothes? He was wearing clothes?) soaking up the blood underneath.

It was only then he noticed that they weren't the only two there. The light had covered up his peripheral view effectively- He had barely seen America (America? The man?) as it had been. The other boy was standing up- a bit woozy on his feet, but standing up all the same.

They locked eyes.

"Yong Hwa!"

"Yong Soo?"

Were the simultaneous names said, one in sure calling and one in hesitant askance. They both smiled, and the one standing up offered his hand out, which the other thankfully took. They could trust each other. They knew that. They came from the same person, they shared the same knowledge. They had no idea why they were here and how they knew all this, but they knew it would come to them, sooner or later.

They both stared at each other before the man cleared his voice- Yong Hwa (That was what he had been called by the other) snapped his head towards the man, along with Yong Soo ( What he had called the boy that had picked him off the ground.)

"Uh."

The blonde stated, seemingly stunned. Yong Hwa narrowed his eyes, frowning. Yong Soo frowned also, eyebrows creasing.

"America…? Right?"

The words came out from his mouth; so familiar, yet so awkward- It didn't seem right, talking in this language his mind had called English. But America had spoken it. Yong Hwa frowned even more before he spoke in various languages, trying to get them all straightened out- Chinese, Japanese, Korean- circling back to English again. Yong Hwa nodded in apology at Yong Soo, who had been looking with a quirked eyebrow at his direction.

"I apologize for any confusion we may have caused."

Yong Soo followed suit in the English speaking trend, locking gazes with the American. So fluid, compared to the two primitive words he had uttered. Yong Hwa glared at his twin. Why did HE have to have the better speaking skills?

"My name is Yong Soo. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Yong Hwa. Nice to meet you."

He kept his sentences short and simple, not opting for the lengthy politeness Yong Soo seemed to have mastered in the short amount of time they were in existence. America looked agape at them, still crouched down, matching their height.

"Yong Hwa… and Yong Soo."

He muttered in amazement, shaking his head. To see a new country born… Was that how it was? They seemed to have their memories intact… considering how they knew who he was. Alfred wasn't an idiot, no matter what all the other colors of the rainbow thought him to be.

"Ah, sorry, guys. I didn't introduce myself. My name is Alfred. Do you two know why you're here and how, by any chance? You already seem to know things that you shouldn't know."

Alfred asked, looking at the two Koreans. The twins looked at each other-That was what they'd like to ask him.

"Not really."

Yong Soo said, translating their confusion into words. America- Alfred- looked uncomfortable, pursing his lips and pacing the room. Yong Hwa watched as the man's eyes turned cloudy with indecisiveness, a fingernail between his teeth. He stopped suddenly, standing up straight and pursing his lips.

"You two stay here."

Were the words, uttered with such finality that Yong Hwa felt a sense of dread.


"It's your birthday, isn't it?"

Alfred had asked, and the smile faded from Korea's face, immediately turning into a mask of confusion-

"I don't get –"

"Shut up and answer the damn question. I know your mood swings enough to know when I'm right."

Yong Soo flinched, false confusion giving way to momentary fear before a masochistic smile graced his face. And people told Alfred that he couldn't read the atmosphere (Along with yours truely).

"Yes. You remember, don't you?"

Yong Soo asked, a small smile on his face. A forced smile, and Alfred could see it- see the echos of the man who had been Korea, in the sudden seriousness of Yong Soo's demeanor, in how he touched his cap to push it lower, shifting his bangs and the shadows to hide his eyes.

No, Yong Soo was always serious- they just never noticed it under the façade he put on as a nation. Even Alfred, who had known Yong Soo from when he was born, barely noticed unless Yong Soo let his guard down…. Like today.

Alfred gritted his teeth as he watched the Asian, the cryptic smile never disappearing from the enigmatic Korean's face. Said Korean sighed, lifting his head up and readjusting his cap. Alfred watched as the bright smile he knew so well slipped back on Yong Soo's face, just like that, a mask- and he couldn't take it anymore.


"Interesting."

Was the drawled answer of the scarf wearing nation, violet eyes feasting hungrily upon the set of blood stained twins before him. They were now in another room, away from all the blood, but still in the same bloody clothes. It was a small room, to the point it was claustrophobic- Especially with the two large men dominating the other side of the desk between them. Pipes crisscrossed the ceiling, but said ceiling was so low that America could easily bump into it if he ever bothered to raise his arm up. Yong Soo felt uneasy with the former Russian- his mind tugged at something, a faint memory that wasn't his. The same deranged eyes- no, different in color. Those eyes were brown. But the notion behind them was the same... He hissed, forcing the memory down. He didn't want to remember. It felt like it was something bad. His younger twin, however, seemed to fail at this mental feat- He had been thinking along the same lines of Yong Soo, it seemed.

Yong Hwa let out a gasp, before curling into himself in his chair.

Yong Soo was beside him in a flash- before groaning himself and swearing under his breath.

"Yong Hwa,"

Yong Soo said, shaking the boy who had curled up on himself, shuddering. Yong Hwa didn't answer. Violation. That's what Yong Soo felt, from the corrupted vibes that were emitted from his brother. Corruption. Something. Something dark.

Or… Yong Soo groaned a second time as a headache racked his brain yet again, hugging his little brother. Don't remember, he told himself. Don't remember. He didn't want to go through what his brother was going through at the moment. No no no no.

"Very interesting."

The same the voice again- tinged with dark humor as he looked between the two. What was America doing? Why wasn't he saying anything? Yong Soo looked pleadingly at the first nation spirit he had met, the one who had brought them here…. In front of this monster. Alfred looked conflicted, jaw locked and arms crossed- he refused to look at them, focusing on an imaginary crack in the wall behind him.

'Traitor,'

Whispered a dark voice in his head and Yong Soo gritted his teeth- no. He couldn't think of people that way when that person just may be the only one who truly knew who they were.

Ivan (That's who that violet eyed-man was, his- or not his- memories said so) leaned across the table that was separating them, a rough hand forcefully peeling them apart and pushing him to the floor. Yong Soo cried out in protest, but the Communist was only focused on Yong Hwa- the man jerked Yong Hwa's face up- And Yong Soo finally saw Yong Hwa's eyes. Emotionless.

He could see America flinching from the corner of his eye.

"Stop it, Ivan."

The golden blonde American said quietly, fixing a sharp glare at the Russian. Violet eyes and blue fought, and Ivan… Stood up and laughed.

"'ery well!"

The man flicked his gaze to America, looking at him with an amused smile on his face. It was much like one a parent would give his child when they had done something cute. Yong Hwa buried his head in his knees and arms again, closing himself off from the world. Yong Soo was going to walk over to him, hug him-

Yong Soo almost didn't see what happened.

Rough hands pushed the American back, pegging him to the wall, handcuffing his hands in an instant to the pipe on the ceiling and one hand holding a switchblade knife that was pressed against the blue-eyed nation's throat.

"Wha-"

"Your fault for not checking ."

A strange look overcame the man's face as Yong Soo watched- The Soviet had his hands somewhere, and Yong Soo couldn't see, but he had a good idea of what the nation was doing. A gasp came from beside him, followed with a thump- Yong Soo turned his head to Yong Hwa, who had fallen out of his chair. Yong Hwa was pointing at the two, shuddering, mumbling incoherency.

"Yong Hwa!"

Yong Soo said, finally tearing his eyes away and cradling Yong Hwa to his chest, effectively covering his sight. Alfred had noticed all this and had turned to look at them, but Ivan wasn't one to allow that, pressing the switchblade knife in deeper. The American gasped, groaning as Ivan pressed his body against the spectacled nation. It was when Ivan nuzzled against Alfred's neck, drawing away the blade, the American finally pushed the sadistic nation away with a kick, swearing. Ivan stumbled away, blood on his lips. Yong Soo could clearly see the bite mark on Alfred's neck along with the drops of blood the knife had created.

"Go fuck yourself."

"Oh, 'ow articulate. Maybe I would do so if it wasn't an anatomically impossible act."

Ivan grinned, lazily wiping away the blood and licking up what was left. He moved in again, as the American had failed to get the hand cuffs off. To Ivan, the American would be his as long as the golden blonde had them on.

"Ivan…."

America growled, using the nation's real name. The Soviet Union let out a chuckle, before snapping the switchblade back in and taking a step back again. America looked alarmed as Ivan looked around the room. His gaze settled on Yong Soo- Walk around the table, kneel down. Violet into brown, brown into violet. Yong Soo buried his head into Yong Hwa's hair, but again, he was forcefully separated from his twin. The large nation picked him up and plopped him into his chair- spreading his legs and kneeling between them.

Yong Soo realized what was going to happen.

"No!"

He yelled out, terrified. He could hear the American swearing, struggling as he tried to get the hand cuffs off.

The Soviet Union raised a finger, the said finger ghosting over the lips, nose, and jaw line. Yong Soo closed his eyes in desperation when the hand moved down, gliding down his side and to his thigh- no, not there- the other hand was in the waist band of his pants-

"Stop it, Ivan. "

Came the sharp, desperate, interjection, and the hands stopped. It was the second time America had said it, and it was the second time Ivan had complied. Complied, yes, but not out of respect or submission. Complied, to do something even more terrible. Yong Soo opened his eyes, just to see that Ivan hadn't taken his gaze off his face for a single moment. Violet. Endless Violet. Purple. He hated purple.

"And why should I?"

Came the silent whisper, eyes never leaving. Look away, Yong Soo pleaded in his mind. Look away.

"One of these boys are meant to be my property,da? I shall use them as I wish."

"You do realize that they're technically independent."

"Ah, but they are not independent right now. They will have many uses."

"….Were you a pedophile, now? Really, Ivan. I never thought you would sink so low."

America snarked, even though he was still handcuffed to the ceiling.

"I never did say they would be used … sexually. How do you say it? Ah, "Get your mind out of the gutter," Yes?"

"You implied it. That's proof enough."

A chuckle sounded and the hand on his thigh was removed as the giant of a man stood up, striding over to the American in an instant.

"So sharp. But you know such things are custom in our world. When did Arthur break you in, I wonder?"

Alfred didn't even flinch as a hand caressed his cheek, the other hand having the switchblade out again at the American's throat.

" You know that's bullshit. Such things were never tradition or custom in our world."

"Oh?"

Their bodies were flush against each other again, and Yong Soo closed his eyes, refusing to see. He turned his back to them as he slid out of his chair, falling to the ground beside Yong Hwa as he stared at his twin, telling himself to ignore the spectacle that was going on on the other side of the desk.

"Don't."

"But you're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Yong Soo, Yong Hwa. Get out of here."

Were the words, pushed through gritted teeth, and Yong Soo didn't hesitate to comply as he coaxed Yong Hwa out.

"But you aren't new in this, I see. Pity. I would have loved to break you in."

He heard, before the door slammed shut.


"How could I not remember?"

Alfred snapped, as Yong Soo stared back at him with surprise written all over his face. He had been in the process of standing up, mouth open in a suggestion that they go somewhere- maybe they could watch a movie? If so, just let him get his wallet and he'd be back in a second…He wanted to be safe than sorry, and he would rather have his whole wallet if he was going to spend time with Alfred, rather than just a credit card.

Yong Soo frowned, crossing his arms as he stood all the way up. He had not expected the Western nation to reply. Alfred had fixed him with a stony glare, and Yong Soo tilted his head- He hadn't meant the question literally. Of course America would remember, what with he had went through with Russia. He had just thought Alfred wouldn't like him bringing it up- such was the nature of their friendship. The past was the past, not to be an object of conversation.

Alfred was the one who had enforced that rule, now Alfred was the one breaking it.

"With everything I went through? How can I NOT remember?"

Alfred repeated, echoing his previous thoughts.

"Of course,"

Yong Soo said softly, sitting back down on the bench.

"Of course. I was an idiot to ask that question. "


Yong Soo looked back with blank eyes as he sat in the hallway, Yong Hwa sitting beside him, sharing the same vacant look. What had they been thrown into? The door opened with a creak, and Yong Soo felt a strange sense of déjà vu- Ivan walked out, with Alfred following him with wary movements, rubbing his wrists. He could see the angry red marks on his neck and wrists- bite marks for the neck, handcuffed marks for the wrists.

"We'll be moving to another room,"

Alfred said tiredly as Yong Soo gave him an analytical stare. Ivan laughed, waving the comment away as he crouched down in front of the two children.

" 'o need to. I know who I'm taking. "

He pointed to Yong Hwa.

"This one."

Yong Soo's eyes widened, gaze snapping to Yong Hwa- Why?

"Take me."

Yong Soo said, desperately. He couldn't bear to have his twin in the grasps of THAT monster. Ivan grinned as he rocked back and forth, actually giving it a moment's thought-

"No. You will have to content yourself with the dreams you'll have every night. Though I would love to have a pair of virgin twins to fuck-"

The sentence was cut off by a punch, courtesy of America. Ivan looked up, not caring about the nosebleed trickling out.

"You …dare… PUNCH ME?!"

Was the roar, and America was hurled to the other end of the long hallway. A sickening crunch was heard, and Soviet Russia was there in a moment, straddling the battered spirit. The white shirt America was wearing was ripped open, and the switch blade gleamed when it was drawn out-

"STOP IT! PLEASE! I'LL GO!"

Yong Hwa yelled out, and Yong Soo had to cover his ears at the loudness. Yong Soo looked at Yong Hwa, who was now standing up, tears in his eyes.

Russia didn't stop.

Yong Hwa ran over to the two in a dash, flinging himself over America without hesitation. The knife hovered in the air.

"Stop it. Please. I'll go. You'll get what you want. I'll go."


"You and Yong Hwa- How can I forget?"

Alfred asked, watching as Yong Soo looked at him with vacant eyes. Yong Soo remained silent, which was unusual for him.

"Do you really take me as an idiot?"

Alfred asked, and Yong Soo- South Korea- did not reply.


They were allowed one more visit before they had to part. Russia had complied, and America wasn't dead… yet.

"I'll go instead, Yong Hwa,"

Yong Soo was begging.

"He just needs one of us, anyway. It doesn't matter who goes, and they can't tell us apart. We look the same. I'll go."

They had been in the world for less than a day, and yet they both felt such a strong bond- such that they were willing to sacrifice one's self for the other.

They came from the same nation. Perhaps it was to be expected.

"I'll go."

Yong Soo asserted again. Yong Hwa gazed into the innocent eyes of his brother, before making a "Tch" sound and shaking his head. The memory he had witnessed, the memory of the past Korea… Japan, was it? Yes, Japan. Yong Hwa nearly threw up as the former imperial nation's face came to mind. Torture. Rape. Yong Soo probably didn't have that memory yet- He wasn't sure if Yong Soo even had that memory. Were the memories divided evenly, with Yong Soo knowing one half of the former Korea's life, and Yong Hwa knowing the other? Or were they duplicated? If it was duplicated, then it was under lock and key ,and he wanted to keep it so- He didn't trust USSR to keep his promise with America. The Soviet nation WILL rape him, he knew. He had that light in his eyes. Same as Japan's.

If the large nation raped Yong Soo- well, there was a possibility that his memories- or rather, the former Korea's memories- would flow back to him, and really, Yong Hwa REALLY didn't want that.

Better for him to go, since he already went through it.

" No. I'll go, Yong Soo. The USSR isn't an idiot. He'd know who it would be, no matter how identical we look."

Yong Soo growled, shaking his head firmly. His eloquence with words had disappeared long ago as frustration and fear had taken over.

"No way. I'm your older brother. I'll go. "

"And what does age have to do with this? Besides, Yong Soo, I'm older. I… ah, 'arrived' first in this world, remember? The light let go of me first. Therefore, I'm older than you by a couple of seconds."

"Wha- Don't try to change the subject!"

"When did I? You started it."

Yong Hwa retorted, before shaking his head.

"I'll go, Yong Soo. That's final."

Yong Soo pursed his lips. He sighed.

"Fine. I'll let you go."

Yong Soo walked over to him, embracing him in a hug.

"I love you, okay? I love you. So be safe, alright?"

Yong Hwa nodded, hugging him back.

"Yeah…"

"Can I call you Hyung?"

Yong Soo asked suddenly, and Yong Hwa backed away from the hug, wide eyed. Yong Soo made a face that looked slightly rejected, before he saw the smile that had formed on Yong Hwa's previously flustered face. Yong Soo smiled, hugging him again-

"I love you, Hyung…. And I'm sorry."

Yong Hwa's world went black.


When he next woke up, he saw America standing over him with a nervous yet fond smile on his face.

"Hey, Yong Soo. You awake?"

"Yeah I'm okay…"

He mumbled, before snapping his head over to Alfred.

"Wait. What do you mean, Yong Soo? I'm Yong Hwa!"

A puzzled smile froze on Alfred's face, before his lips turned into a tight line. He muttered something under his breath, before shaking his head. Acceptance was written across his face, as if this just confirmed something he had been suspicious of. He didn't attempt to move. Yong Hwa knew that all was lost when America didn't storm out of the room to… clear up whatever misunderstandings there might be.

"Where's Yong Soo? Where is he?!"

Yong Hwa asked anyway, and America shook his head again.

"He's gone. He went with the Soviet Union."

Not so surprising. He half knew this fact- It was so like Yong Soo to do this… Yong Hwa didn't bother replying. If he knew America like he thought he did, America would have done something if he could.

He just hoped he DID know America like he thought he did.

"Sorry. I had my suspicions, but I couldn't confirm it, what with you out for the count and Russia whisking your twin out of there. Not to mention Yong Soo kept insisting he was you."

"I love you, Hyung…. And I'm sorry."

His last words.

'Idiot,' He thought, as he looked down at his clothes, which had been switched to Yong Soo's while he was sleeping.

Idiot.


When Yong Soo finally opened his mouth, it wasn't to answer Alfred's question.

"Can we please not talk about this?"

Alfred- America- growled, and he grabbed Yong Soo's shoulders, shaking him roughly.

"Do you really take me as an idiot?"

He gruffly asked again at the almost muted question, looking into the eyes he had avoided once, long ago. Vacant, Broken eyes that echoed violent memories of a corrupted past.


Bombs. Airplanes. Yong Soo (It had been some time now, since he'd changed his name to his twin's- Since every one insisted that he was Yong Soo, and the former Yong Soo had changed his name to Yong Hwa) gasped as he put a grimy hand over the gunshot wound that had pierced his arm, the rifle he was holding dropping to the ground. He picked it up as soon as he saw it hit the ground- The gun was his life line, among all the other bullets shearing the air around him. Offence is the best defense, they said. Yong Soo snorted.

It had been around 2 months since the war started- Since North Korea- That is, his twin brother (Yong Soo, or is it Yong Hwa now?) had invaded his land. Yong Soo had known the peace confrontations had not been going well, and had watched it from the shadows as his government tried to figure everything out. It truly hadn't been going well. Truly.

He had met his twin brother a couple of times, after that incident, but he had been getting colder day by day- until one word answers were the best he could coax out of him. Yong Hwa (The North) had always been the elaborate one, twisting language to suit his own needs- Yong Soo knew something had happened when the polite, yet somewhat friendly and long answers that never really answered his questions turned into curt, monotone ones. What had Russia done to him? Yong Soo had frequently wondered. His mind immediately turned to the worst possible explanation possible, and he found himself wanting to strangle himself when he found out that the USSR wasn't above any of those possibilities.

He could have gone instead. If only he had been attentive enough to notice Yong Hwa had been acting that day. Had something up his sleeve, being the stubborn bastard he was. He himself should have been the one to go, not Yong Hwa… Yong Hwa- No, Yong Soo, that was Yong Hwa's real name- wouldn't have been so broken then. His twin little brother wouldn't have gone through anything that would have wiped that bright smile off his face and replace it with a permanent look of terror. Not broken. Still happy.

Then the attack came.

"Yong Soo! Get your ass off the ground and fight!"

Came an American voice, and Yong Soo turned his head blankly to the blonde beside him, looking into pools of blue. America. Alfred. He understood somewhat, right? After all, he had a civil war of his own. Could this even be considered a civil war? After all, he and his twin were separate people now….

No.

"I know what you're going through, but Yong Soo, snap out of it!"

"…"

"SOUTH KOREA!"

The yell was almost lost amongst the hectic background noise, but that did the trick. South Korea. He was a nation. He wasn't human- and therefore he should put the needs of his nation first, not his personal ones. And his national needs said that he couldn't afford to lose this battle. They had retreated far too much, the North was winning… And He really couldn't afford to lose all he had worked for, the Government his people had made…

He couldn't let them down just because the person he was fighting was his own little brother.

"Ah? Sorry, America."

He said flippantly, dragging up a bright smile. He had got this poker face thing down, seeing that America looked satisfied somewhat.

"That's the spirit. Let's win this war."

Korea was sure America didn't miss how his smile faltered at that comment.


"I don't, okay?"

Yong Soo finally answered.

"Then why are you doing this to yourself? I'm not a stranger to you; I know you inside out, I fucking practically raised you, for God's sake!"

The blank eyes stared back, and Alfred pursed his lips-

"Can we please drop this subject?"

Yong Soo asked quietly, and Alfred sighed, removing his hands from Yong Soo's shoulders, and Yong Soo smiled brightly. The switch to gloomy to happy was so sudden that Alfred almost convinced himself that he had imagined the side of Yong Soo he had just seen.

"Awesome. Now lets go watch a movie- I have a brilliant one that originated from yours truely!"

Yong Soo said, standing up and dragging a surprised Alfred along.

"I'll pay for you on the bus- I have my credit card right here-"

They were on the bus before Alfred had a chance to say that he didn't understand Korean at all- How could he watch a Korean movie then?


"Okay, so I've got this brilliant plan. Well, actually, my general-MacArthur- had this idea, but since he's one of my people, it's technically my plan."

Yong Soo rolled his eyes as he heard this explanation, leaning against the tree that was offering them some shade against the sweltering summer heat.

The heat that happened to spread the smell of dead carcasses that used to be actual living people- but they couldn't think about that.

Alfred certainly seemed unbothered by it. Probably WAS unbothered by it, since he had gone through all those wars… though Yong Soo doubted his own assessment. He didn't think someone could get used to any of this no matter how many times they went through it.

"So what we do is we get a bunch of ship thingies…"

Alfred was pacing the grass in front of him, waving his hands around animatedly. He was pretty hyped up about that idea his general had- or, by his words, HIS idea. Amphibious warfare, apparently. Yong Soo admitted that he hadn't thought of that idea- no, more like he hadn't been aware that could be possible. Technology had improved, indeed….Anyway, he could get the details later from the general himself- Alfred wasn't exactly doing a great job of explaining to him. Made sense, since Alfred wasn't one to stick to plans. He was more of a "Let's wing it" guy.

Which was entirely against his ideals- Yong Soo believed in plans.

"But it's kinda iffy right now, so…yeah. You get it."

"Uh-huh."

Somewhat. Yong Soo turned his gaze away from the American, focusing on the grass beside him. He got the gist of it, but would it succeed?

" Alfred, what was it you said about killing other nations?"

Yong Soo asked brightly, as if asking about the weather. A small smile hovered around his face. Alfred stopped pacing, meeting Yong Soo's gaze with hardened eyes.

" I really would suggest that you didn't."

He said, immediately catching onto what Yong Soo was implying.

" Ah, so you know what I'm thinking."

"Don't. Killing your brother is not going to help matters in this war… Unless your plan was to kill me?"

"Yes, of course I'd kill the person who pretty much raised me as his own. No, the former."

Yong Soo said sarcastically. Killing another nation. Nations couldn't die by convenient means, yes, since they always regenerated, but when a Nation DID die, it had a big impact on the country, such as sudden illnesses, economical depressions… a variety of negative things. Alfred had probably gone through one of them himself.

Killing his little brother would certainly help win this war…. It would make the plan succeed 100%, anyway.

" You're lying, and you know that. Desperate situations call for desperate measures. I'll do it. He's not my little brother anymore, anyway."

Yong Soo said levelly, standing up and dusting the seat of his pants off. He met Alfred's gaze, the small smile still on his face, unfaltering. The blonde flinched, closing his eyes, before he fixed his eyes onto him with greater intensity.

"… Don't, Yong Soo."

"…"

Alfred sighed, running a hand through his hair as he pursed his lips in a tight line. Eyes turned away, gazing into the far distance that were his memories.

"I had to kill England once. It wasn't a pleasant experience."

Alfred said with difficulty, biting his lower lip. England. America's father, wasn't he?

"And you consequently won your Revolutionary War."

Yong Soo said, dragging up what he had learned from some conversations they had with America's history.

"The same thing applies here. I'm not saying I think it will be pleasant. Quite the opposite."

America's broken stare was enough to have him turn and walk away. Yes, Yong Hwa wasn't his little brother anymore… He was the enemy. Yong Soo felt tears come out of his eyes.

Everybody was broken around him. Why was that?


One foot in front of the other. Focus on that. Just putting one foot… in front of the other.

Yong Soo gazed intently at his feet, the hand gripping his gun on the verge of breaking said gun in half. His clothes were splattered with blood, and Yong Soo tried not to care about the dark patches on his shoes and pants he could see from the moonlight.

The bag he had on his back felt heavy, even though he had taken great pains to travel light. Yong Soo closed his eyes, and gritted his teeth as he swung his head upwards. He stopped short when he saw his destination- the camp they were all staying in.

Time went by so fast.

Yong Soo swiftly weaved through the amass of tents and soldiers standing guard, his feet leading him to the tent he and Alfred shared. The light was on, indicating that Alfred was still awake. Yong Soo hadn't told Alfred where he would be going- but he was positive that Alfred knew anyway.

He was proven right when Alfred didn't say anything when he stepped into the room- No "Where have you been?", Or no "Do you have any idea how long you were away?"

"Tell your general to proceed with your plan tomorrow. It'll succeed."

Yong Soo forced out, hating how lifeless it sounded. He turned on his heels and strode right back out- he didn't want to think how he must have looked to Alfred. He walked over to the tree where they had first had the conversation about Alfred's plan, the conversation that sparked his "mission".

The mission to kill his twin. His generals (and America's too) had been talking about it anyway- Yong Soo knew, no matter how Alfred tried to shush it up, tried to keep him… innocent. They were at the Pusan Perimeter (Or they would come to call it)- they could not retreat anymore. They had to consider all options.

Alfred would be too obvious among all the Koreans in the North, the generals said. Better to send him, Yong Soo, to do the deed. To kill the North Korean nation sprit and turn the tides.

He could hear Alfred's foot steps behind him and he didn't bother turning around. If Alfred yelled at him, he could take it. If Alfred slapped him across the cheek, he would do what the bible said- he would offer his other cheek to him.

But Alfred did neither.

Yong Soo felt tears stream out of his eyes as Alfred stood front of him, then pulled him into a sudden embrace- a wordless form of comfort that could speak more than a thousand words.

"You know,"

Alfred started, whispering in his ear. Korea froze, but Alfred continued anyway.

"I'm not sure if you remember of not, but the past Korea said that this'll come to haunt me, splitting him in half."

Yong Soo did remember. Could remember the stricken look on America's face, surprised.

"I thought he'd meant that I'd regret what I did, but I'm really sorry. I don't."

Yong Soo's breath stopped, and America rushed on-

" I just would… I'm just happy to have you, okay? So pull through for me. Please."

Please.

Yong Soo repeated the word in his mind.

Please.

He wished he could say yes, he would pull through- but he couldn't be so sure. Never would be sure.

Not with what he did.


Meeting his little brother had been relatively simple. All he had to do was say that he was here to "redeem himself", say that he wanted to change sides, and they let him in without any questions- perhaps it helped that he really had been AWOL, really had sneaked out in the dead of night, really had hitchhiked all the way here, taking pains not to be spotted by his own side.

Yong Soo knew Yong Hwa had spies on his side. It only had been a matter of fooling them- Yong Soo knew that Yong Hwa too, was desperate to have Yong Soo submit, didn't like taking lives that technically were Yong Hwa's own people, had the circumstances been better. Had Yong Soo and Yong Hwa not been pulled apart.

He would be desperate to believe in Yong Soo.

Nevertheless, Yong Soo had been frisked and all weapons had been taken from him- but Yong Soo didn't need said weapons. He could kill with his bare hands if he needed to.

"Is that you, Yong Hwa?"

Yong Soo gave a start when he heard his real name being called, the one he had been given when he had stepped into this world with all its horrors. Yong Soo turned around in the chair he was sitting on, and saw his twin in all his glory- and what Yong Soo really cared about- and was unarmed. Yong Hwa looked at Yong Soo with suspicion, but walked over to him anyway, sitting in front of him, across the desk.

"Yes, it's me, Yong Soo."

Yong Soo said, referring to his twin's real name as well.

" I'm just tired of fighting. I'll submit. Whatever it takes to end this war. Whatever it takes for us to be back together."

Yong Soo said, knowing that this was what his twin wanted to hear. Knew how to manipulate his emotions, knew how to make him believe him.

Just knew how to make him send the guard out of the room, knew how he would accept when he asked (and pressed) for a simple hug.

Because in the end, Yong Hwa was his little brother, and he just wanted comfort from his big brother- and Yong Soo knew exactly how to use that.

Knew exactly how to use that, knew how to use people's emotions against them.

A killing machine.

No body could stand up to him when he was in this state- In minutes, Yong Hwa was on the ground, being choked by Yong Soo, gulping for breaths that never came. Betrayal was written all over his face, as he thrashed- Yong Soo had made sure he never got even a scream out.

" You know, you never should have gone instead. Russia wanted me, not you."

Yong Soo said venomously, forcing the words out between gritted teeth.

"You never… should have gone…"

Yong Hwa thrashed against his chokehold, and Yong Soo regretted not going for a clean snap of the neck.

No, no- why was he considering this?

Tears blurred his eyes and he blinked them away, seeing the light leave his little brothers eyes.

... Wait, what was he doing? Yong Soo stood up suddenly, eyes frantic- but it was too late, too late. The light had already left his brother's eyes.

He backed away- gods- had he just killed his brother? His twin?

He dropped to his knees when he heard a knock on the door with a call- Yong Soo answered it, imitating what Yong Hwa had said when he had sent the guard away. They had the same voice- it wasn't that hard to imitate the accent Yong Hwa had gained.

Professionalism took over after that- making sure his brother was dead, resolve wavering as he gritted his teeth in a futile attempt to stop the tears.

Manipulation. Why had he done that? He wanted to believe the words he had sugarcoated and delivered to Yong Hwa in their conversation- wanted to believe them so much. He could see the lights enveloping his brother, and Yong Soo knew he had to get out of there, fast, before Yong Hwa reappeared in his nation's capital.

Yong Soo jumped out of the window that was behind him, sparing a glance at his brother's disappearing body as tears blurred his vision again.


"Do you regret taking my place?"

He had asked, hugging his little brother, just before strangling him.

"Do I? No. No, I don't. Ivan may have done horrible things to me… But I don't regret it, never did."

"Why?"

"Well, because...it was for you, Hyung. Because it was for you."


History notes are in the next chapter.