In my long history
There were times when I withdrew into myself.
Compared to everyone else
I am very much an old man, floating in the Orient.
"Japan-sama, America-san is here!"
Japan curled up in the corner of his room, glaring at the door with loathing.
"I don't want to talk to him."
The man on the other side of the door laughed, "Come on you can't stay locked up in here forever."
He has a point, thought Japan.
"Alright I'm coming…"
As soon as he opened the door someone threw himself at him. Reacting on instinct , Japan retaliated, delivering a sharp kick to the man's ribs and a hard uppercut to the man's jaw. It was enough for the man to get the message but not enough to hurt him, at least not seriously.
"Dude, what was that for?" the blonde shook his head as if to clear it, almost knocking his glasses off of his childlike face.
"Oh, America-san. I'm sorry if I hurt you. I just don't like people touching me."
"It's fine. No harm, no foul," Japan winced as the stronger nation patted him lightly on the shoulder. "That was some cool martial arts skill though. Where did you learn it?"
Japan thought for a moment before answering, "I learned some of it from China. It was long before you where born, I can assure you of that."
America stared at him, a strange expression in his blue eyes, "Dude, Japan, you're old."
Japan sighed, "Don't remind me…"