Chapter Eight

The time is a few days before Russia surprises China but breaking into his house. The place is America's house, where Japan has been staying in order to set up a few business deals in the country...

The American threw his head back, leaning over the back of his chair with a yawn and a stretch, "Man, Japan dude, I can't believe you're going back home so soon! We still have so many restaurants to explore!"

Japan's brow furrowed, "H-hai… but Alfred-san, you have to understand that I have to go back-"

"We could have gone to some restaurants upstate! They have great garbage plates and shit up there, you would love it."

Slightly frustrated by the American's strange and oddly persistante hospitality, Japan placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, "Alfred, you have already shown me many restaurants in New York."

America opened his eyes and sat up quickly, narrowly avoiding hitting his head on Japan's, "But only the city! The bagels and crap here are good, but the garbage plates in the non-city bits are even better!"

"I have to go home," Japan insisted, gently pulling America up from his seat, "it's not my choice, the government wants me back okay?"

The taller male pouted, pulling his Nokia phone out of his pocket, pressing a button and turning it on. Japan grit his teeth, the nation had almost no attention span, which was fitting for what country he lived in, not to mention the specific state and city.

Checking the calendar page and turning the handheld phone to his friend's face, America pointed to an image of his plan for the next few days. "But I wanted to bring you to this place, it's so nice there! And Wegmans is a must-see I swear to you…"

Sighing loudly, Japan slowly pushed the phone out of his face, "Alfred I need to go home."

Throwing his head back and groaning America dropped his hand's to his sides, "Ugg, fine. I get it, but next time we happen to be in this state I'm getting you some true up-state wings, and-"

"I know! I know," Japan hurriedly yelped, "...'and if we are down south we are getting steak and pulled pork', I'm aware."

A big grin spread across the American's face as he clapped his hands together, "and if the next meeting is in California I'm getting you sour bread and clam chowder! Aa, I can't wait already!" He happily bounced up and down once, an ecstatic grin on his face.

Japan nodded quickly, "But I do have to go back, my boss is waiting and I should check on China…"

Immediately changing moods, America stopped bouncing and narrowed his eyes at the mention of their common enemy, "Why?"

"About my boss?" Japan asked, taken aback.

"No," huffed America, "I meant the comunist."

"China?" Japan asked, a small smile twitching at the edge of his lips, "What about him?"

"Why do you need to see him? What do you need to check on?" America's eyes were narrowed as he stared into the Japanese man's eyes, a dark blankness filling his own.

Almost scared by the quick change in personality, though he had been expecting it, Japan nervously stared back at his friend, "Because he was acting strangely… and I'm… curious? I suppose?"

"Hmmm…" America hummed, his eyebrows lowering more over his eyes as he partially glared at the man facing him. The way his head was tilted made his glasses catch the light slightly, hiding part of his right eye behind the shine.

Sweating slightly Japan looked intensely back at the teen, worrying that he would become distant, and therefore dangerous again.

This awful staring contest persisted until suddenly the taller nation started laughing, leaving the other relieved while ever so slightly confused.

"You are right about that," the western teen snickered, "he was acting pretty damn weird, but I didn't know you cared about him! Aren't you enemies?"

"Y-yes," stuttered Japan, a light blush across his cheeks at the hilarity his friend seemed to find in the situation, "I am his enemy, I was worried!"

"Worried?" America said, a bemused smirk painting his face as he tilted his head in curiosity, "that's different than curious."

"I was!" Japan snapped, "both are valid emotions for this situation!"

"Alright alright," America said as he stifled another fit of laughter, bringing his head back into its resting position, "I understand, but how quickly do you have to leave?"

Japan stared at him, mouth slightly agape as he tried to understand the nation's emotions and thought process. Shuting it and sighing, closing his eyes and giving up on the train of thought, Japan groaned, "I have to leave by tomorrow morning, there's a flight I have to catch…"

"Ah," America smiled, "I could try to drive you there, I got my driver's license in nineteen 'o three, plus, the traffic here is awful for the tired brain of a person who sleeps!" He laughed at his own self deprecating joke as Japan swallowed, slightly uncomfortable with the odds of the American crashing his car in New York city at four in the morning.

"No thank you," Japan forced a smile, "I can drive myself, or maybe take a bus or something,"

Deflating at getting his offer turned down, America pouted, "Do you not trust me?"

Not wanting to share the truth, Japan paused and struggled with his words before finally spoke again, uttering a slightly white-lie that he knew was better for the situation than telling the truth, "No, I just think you deserve to sleep in, since you're always up so late."

" 'Kay…" America frowned, "I understand."

Japan nodded, lifting his arm slightly to check the watch on his wrist, "I know it may be abrupt," he started, "but I really should be going to bed soon, since I will have to wake up so early tomorrow."

With a slight nod, the other nation smiled hugely, "and when you get up in the morning I'll have a big breakfast waiting for you! I hope you like American bacon, sausage, and waffles!"

Smiling at his friend, Japan's eyes softened, though he didn't really expect the physically teen aged country to get up early enough to cook breakfast, "That sounds wonderful Alfred-san, I will need the energy for my fourteen hour flight."

With a laugh, America rocked onto the balls of his feet and then back again, "Great!"

With another soft, appreciative smile, the Asian country turned and walked off to the guest room. Behind him he could hear the clicking of plates and the soft happy humming of a rock song as the westerner cleaned up the dishes from their dinner.

Even if it scared him how much calories his ally consumed, and how much food dye was used in baking, Japan had to admit that his cooking was pretty good. He almost felt happy at the prospect of another huge meal the next day but he caught himself, reminding his stomach that there was no way the sleep deprived teen would get up at two in the morning to cook him another huge breakfast.