America opened his eyes. And he saw blurs of color. He gasped in surprise, and laughed out loud. He quickly got up and followed the brown smudge, which turned out to be the stairs, to the first floor, and he ran into a door.
He frowned, rubbing his forehead. Britain stuck his head out of his door. "Ugh. America, how did you get down here?" America wasn't sure where he was, until he found a yellow and green smudge. Britain opened his mouth when he saw America's eyes moving, trying to fixate on him. "Dude, I can see color!" Canada heard the shout, and burst out of his room. "What?"
America explained it him, and all three grinned.
Japan raised his katana, and had to drop it when a sharp pain stabbed at his gut. He winced, bending over. China watched from his window. His little brother had to rest. Soon, China hoped to convince him of it.
Japan exhaled, and picked up his sword again, taking an offensive stance. His mind was calm, and open. He closed his eyes. Now. He flipped the blade around his wrist, twirled it around his arm, and tossed it, then bumped it with his elbow, flipped it over his forearm, and caught the hilt with his other hand.
He opened his eyes, the wind running through his hair. China looked down at him in amazement.
Japan smiled.