Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

Another update, hooray! Now that a few players are set, everything can begin. Keep in mind, though, that the characters mentioned in here are not the only ones who will help. And remember the girl who was sitting behind Alfred during the broadcast! She will be very important later on.

"Though force can protect in emergency, only justice, fairness, consideration and cooperation can finally lead men to the dawn of eternal peace." –Dwight D. Eisenhower

Ottawa, Canada: 6:36 PM

It wasn't a time for rest. How could Matthew possibly rest when he saw his own twin get shot on TV? Who else saw it? Was it a worldwide broadcast? The only reason Matthew was able to see any Usonian news at all was thanks to his tech team, who were able to find little loopholes through the electronic fortresses Usona had thrown everywhere.

No, they didn't see it. No one else in the world could've seen that moment; Matthew knew that his brother hated signs of weakness, even before his crazy-dictator persona came around. If word got out that Alfred was facing massive resistance when his country was barely a year old, he'd feel like he would have to prove himself to the world yet again. And who knows how far he'd go with all those nukes he has? Good God, it was the Lincoln Massacre all over again, but it was sure to have been bloodier this time around, though the cameras had shut off before Matthew could see anything extreme happening. He could just imagine the guards going crazy and blindly shooting into the crowd while Alfred was dragged off.

He probably tried to walk it off though, Matthew thought, disgusted by his dark humor at a time like this. He always was a fan of Teddy Roosevelt.

He paced the room, trying to think of possible nations who would want to help Matthew help Alfred. How the hell do I propose something this big? It wasn't like Alfred had a throng of admirers; quite the opposite. And the few people who did have a soft spot for him weren't exactly lining up to bring help, either.

Arthur? That man was a bit iffy in Matthew's opinion, but Alfred liked him enough. Whether or not Arthur would step up to the challenge, though, was an entirely different story. Matthew remembered how nervous and anxious the Englishman had been at the last World Conference Alfred had attended, which was a little over six months ago. That was in March, two months after America was officially dissolved, and two months before the Lincoln Massacre.

France was a definite no-no. So was Spain, Portugal, the Netherlands, Russia, China…Goddamit! There has to be someone! Was he the only one in the whole world who cared anymore?!

Matthew sat at his desk and cried.

Bern, Switzerland: 10:49 PM

Lili Zwingli hadn't meant to stay up, truly she hadn't. It's pretty late, I hope Big Brother doesn't get mad at me. She had been exploring the house inside and out, amazed at how much she still hadn't seen of the place. She slid into one of the many secret passages she had found, taking care not to make any unnecessary noises or squeaks. The secret corridors were dark and small; she reflected on how lucky she was to not be claustrophobic.

She also found that the tunnels were very close to the walls; she heard various voices talking about different subjects as she made her way through. It was near one particular room, though, that she froze in her tracks.

"You hear that the American has set himself up a dictatorship?"

"Yea, boy it must suck to live there right now."

Someone laughed. "What're you two talkin' bout? They just made it official, that's all." And the one man's laughter was joined by the two others.

American? They couldn't be talking about Alfred Jones, could they? Yet Lili could think of no other American name that stood out to her. Dictatorship? In her few encounters with Mr. Jones, he came off to her as a fun-loving person who was very sweet. Sometimes he made jokes she didn't understand – Big Brother always covered her ears and yelled something at Mr. Jones each time – but she liked him very much. Not as much as Big Brother, but there were times when Lili wished Mr. Jones was allowed to give her a hug too.

But dictatorships were bad, and dictators were bad people. Mr. Jones, in one of the few moments where Big Brother had allowed him to talk to her, had taught Lili that much. And since Mr. Jones wasn't a bad man, there was no way he was a dictator or part of a dictatorship. Those men didn't know what they were talking about. Lili nodded her head at her analysis and continued on her way. But she couldn't have gone more than a few rooms down the hall (or was she going up the hall? She lost her sense of direction in the tunnel) when she heard a familiar voice: her big brother's voice.

"Yes, I know about Usona, how could I not? It was all over the news, you big oaf…I can't believe what Jones got himself into…no, I haven't…yes, I remember…WHAT?" Big Brother screamed, and Lili cowered a little. She had heard him yell before, but never at this level. This scream was panicked and full of disbelief, totally different from the gruff voice of command she was used to. There was a long silence.

Usona? I've never heard of a Usona. Was it a new country? Lili became excited, but it deflated when she remembered her brother saying something about Mr. Jones being involved. He screamed, too. Maybe Usona is something very bad. She pressed her ear to the wall, the silence stretching, until she heard a sigh.

"Where? Chest and…siech…and he's still alive, huh? Big change he went through, I'll tell you that…went from sloppy and fun to a professional with a stick up his arschloch…as much as I'd like to, we're staying neutral…"

Lili stopped listening. She'd heard enough: something happened to Mr. Jones, and now he was in charge of a new country that was very bad. And because of that, something bad happened to him. Whatever it was, it must've been big for Big Brother to consider his neutrality and…and scream like that, she thought with a shiver.

Well, just because Big Brother had to stay neutral didn't mean she had to. Right?

Tokyo, Japan: 5:58 AM

Kiku watched the video again.

And again.

And again.

He waited for the bone-chilling scare to away, that maybe his pain would somehow go away if he forced himself to witness his friend get shot over and over.

But it didn't go away. Over and over, Kiku watched, and over and over, each loud gunshot brought fresh waves of grief to him. Kiku saw Alfred give his speech, saw the crowds roaring in delight and the beautiful smirk that had crawled on Alfred's face. And then he saw the splashes of red eat his friend.

I should be numb to this kind of thing by now, Kiku rubbed his forehead, trying to keep the tears and anger at bay. This happens all the time, dictators are bound to get shot, they deserve to get shot. Why should this bother me? But he knew he was kidding himself. Every other dictator was just that: a dictator. But the Usonian dictator wasn't just a stranger. He was Kiku's trading partner, his business ally, his confidant. Alfred was Kiku's friend.

Did anyone else see it? Was it a worldwide broadcast? Kiku doubted it was, and mentally patted himself on the back for taking the time to plant hidden cameras in the White House during his many visits to America. Alfred-kun always hated being seen as weak. The last time Kiku remembered Alfred crying to him was…well, too far back for him to remember anymore. I have to help him. But how? Kiku certainly couldn't do it alone, not when his country was still struggling to find new business partners and build up their military at the same time. Who else would be willing to help?

I know that no one else in my area would want to help. They all hate America and seem to care less about that new country he's leading. Germany? Kiku was still close to Ludwig; maybe it would be solely because of their friendship that the stoic German would agree to help. Then a thought hit him.

Alfred-kun's brother. Mattan...Manhattan…Mat? Mattie…Matthew! Kiku couldn't believe that the Canadian brother wasn't his first thought. He'd seen at the conference how distraught he was, hadn't he? All he had to do was find Matthew's number and call him. We hardly know each other. What if he doesn't want my help? What if he's too shy? What if he doesn't like me? What if, what if? Kiku clenched his hands into fists. Compatibility had no place here right now. Now was a time for action.

He glanced toward the still image of Alfred, face frozen in pain but with a slight trace of a grin plastered on his face, felt his heart tighten again.

Act now, cry later.

Ottawa, Canada: 7:27 PM

The phone had been ringing off and on for the past half hour. Matthew had no desire to answer it; he just wanted to be left alone with his sorrow. But the ringing wouldn't stop, and the sound drilled itself into his head until he couldn't take it anymore.

He dashed to the phone and yanked it to his ear. "What do you want?" It came out in an angry whisper.

The person on the other line was silent for a moment, until Matthew heard an intake of breath. "Moshi moshi, this is Kiku Honda. I am calling from Japan. May I speak with Matthew Williams, please?"

Good Lord, it was that Japanese friend of Alfred's. Matthew remembered him briefly; Kiku was a very polite and quiet man. "Speaking." What does he want?

"Ah…hai. Hello, Mr. Williams. I…I heard about Alfred-kun, and I just wanted…wanted to…" He trailed off, obviously unsure of how to phrase the sentence. Matthew immediately knew what he was talking about.

"You saw it? You saw it too? So it was worldwide? I didn't think he'd make a speech for his people a worldwide one, I mean-"

"No, no. I am not sure it was worldwide." Kiku interrupted apologetically. "I, ah, had some sources from within."

Matthew snorted inwardly. Inside sources, his ass. Knowing the guy, Kiku probably had some sort of secret camera fetish or something. But Matthew kept that thought to himself. "It surprised me. I hadn't cried that hard in a long time." He heard himself say.

"Matthew-san, I was wondering...how much do you want to help Alfred-kun?"

Matthew stood in stunned silence, the sentence playing over and over in his head. Help him? How much I want to help him? Is…is this a test, or an offering? Does he want to help, too? "He's my own brother. Of course I wanna help him as much as I can."

"Osoreirimasu sumimasen, I did not mean to offend you. I only meant that, if you'd like, I would be more than willing to help you help Alfred-kun." Kiku squeaked out the last sentence quickly, as if he was afraid of rejection. Matthew could only stare at the phone in disbelief.

I'm not the only one…I'm not the only one! Alfred did have some good friends out there after all! "O-oh, of course, Kiku!" Praise to the maples! Matthew felt his eyes threaten to tear up, heard his voice shake slightly. "Yes, thank you, thank you so much!"

"You are welcome," his voice heaved with relief, "the next world conference is next month, I believe. Shall we introduce the beginnings of our efforts there?"

Matthew was too flooded with relief to think right now. "Yes, yes, that would be great. When do you want to come here?"

There was a slight hesitation on Kiku's part. "I did not think that you wanted me to fly there right away, gomenasai. But I will try my best to arrive there as soon as possible."

"Great! That's way cool, Kiku, I can't thank you enough."

"Anything to help, Matthew-san."

Matthew cried again. But this time, they were tears of joy.

For those who need translations:

Siech - Shit, Christ, Bloody Hell, etc.

Arschloch - Asshole

Osoreirimasu sumimasen - Excuse me, I'm sorry

Gomenasai - I'm sorry (second form)