Author's note: Hey there! Well, this was originally going to be the last chapter of my somewhat historically accurate fic... but it ran on too long, so I'll make another one after it. Yay.

Speaking of which, I only just found out that something they glossed over in the anime is actually historically important. XD Damn writers. So I added a little something about it in chapter three.

With that over with, on with the chapter!

Chapter Four: Persist

"Dude! Japan!" America called out, pounding on the door with his fist. "It's your good buddy, America! Open up!"

The door slid open. "Ah, America," Japan replied. "Konnichi-" He jumped in shock. "Gah!"

All six Allies were standing outside his house, five of which had proud stances and one of which was shuffling awkwardly. Germany was in handcuffs that were being held behind his back by Russia.

"Nani? Germany, what's going on? Did sey capture you?"

"No, my good friend!" America replied. "He-"

Britain loudly cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should let Germany explain," he said.

"Oui," France agreed, "zis is best coming from 'is mouz, non?"

"I agree," China said.

"So do I," Russia agreed. He gave Germany's back a light shove with his free hand.

"Germany?" Japan asked.

Germany grunted in displeasure. "Nein, Japan..." he replied, "I have not been captured."

"... Sen what happened?"

"I surrendered."

Japan jumped backwards in shock. "Nani?"

"Ja... my boss decided to qvit..." He glanced at Italy. "Among ozer zings..." He looked back at Japan. "So I had no reason to keep fighting..."

"But... but... you were se one who started se war in se first prace!"

"I know... but I can't do zis anymore, Japan." He gave the Asian a stern look. "Just surrender and get it over viz."

Wide-eyed, Japan frantically looked between every face that was present, as though looking for an answer. Italy tried to smile at him, though he was finding it difficult.

"You heard him, Japan!" America said proudly. "Surrender to the Allies and we can end the war, once and for all! Then the good guys win and the hero is victorious!"

Japan stared at America, the frightened expression still plastered on his face. After a long moment, he furiously shook his head.

"No! No, I refuse! It is not... not se way of se samurai to surrender!"

"The way of the samurai?"

Japan looked at America with a sudden fire in his scowling eyes. "Hai! When I joined se Axis, I made a sirent promise to myseruf to keep fighting, no matter se cost!"

"This bloke's more stubborn than Germany!" Britain cried.

"Sacré bleu!" France cried.

"Aiya!" China cried.

"That could be big problem," Russia said.

"You dummkopf!" Germany yelled. "Vhat are you even fighting for anymore? You zink you can vin all by yourself?"

"Remember why we carred ourserves se Axis Powers in se first prace?" Japan asked. "Because we said sat se worrd would turn on sat axis!"

"... Seriously?" America asked. "That's why you called yourselves that?"

"I say..." Britain said.

"Ohon," France said, "it 'as so much more class zan Allies."

"Dat, or it just more pretentious," China said.

"Confuse with obtuse metaphor before crushing in their skulls," Russia said. "I like it. If only you hadn't tried to invade me, I would have liked to share that name. Big mistake, by the way."

"Hold on, we're getting off-track, guys!" America cried. "Japan! Dude!" He pointed at Germany. "This guy's the one who started the war! And he's gone and surrendered! You don't need to keep fighting his battles for him!"

Japan paused for a few moments. Then he bowed. "Gomennasai," he replied, "but, since Germany has surrendered, sat now makes him a traitor and my enemy." When he straightened again, he frowned at them. "Now, prease reave."

"... Dude, are you freaking serious?"

"Hai. Very serious. Now, prease reave." He slid the door shut.

Back in the meeting room, America smacked both his hands on the table in frustration. "Aww, man!" he cried. "Why have you Axis guys gotta be so incredibly stubborn?"

"Aiyaa..." China said, "dey all such pains to deal wid..."

"Yes, they bloody well are..." Britain agreed.

"Mon ami..." France said, turning to Italy, "why did you not say anyzing back zere?"

Italy sighed, leaning his face on his crossed arms. "I don't-a know..." he replied. "I guess I was just scared that Japan would thrust his sword in my face again..."

"You Axis Powers are always so difficult, aren't you?" Russia asked, giving Germany's handcuffs a slight yank.

Germany grunted in discomfort. "And you Allied Forces are a pain in ze arsch," he grumbled.

"So, now what do we do?" America asked.

"Just ride out ze storm, until Japan surrenders?" France suggested.

"And what are we supposed to do about Germany?" Britain asked.

"Aiya, dat good point," China agreed.

"We split him between all six of us," Russia replied.

"Well, that's fine if we're talking about his land..." Britain said, "but we can't very well split him into six parts."

"I'll take him and hold him prisoner at my place!" America said.

"Oh no, you bloody well won't!"

"Non!" France yelled. "Monsieur Germany will be my prisoner!"

Britain angrily turned to him. "Like hell he will!"

"I want to claim responsibility!" China called out.

"Now, hold on a minute!"

"I take him to my place," Russia said.

"No!" the other four yelled in a panic.

"Guys!" Italy cried. "Please stop fighting!"

The other five Allies stared at him in silence for a minute. Then they looked at each other.

"You know..." America said.

"It might not be a bad idea..." Britain continued.

"If Italy were ze one to look after 'im," France said.

They all looked back at Italy, who jumped.

"What?" he asked. "Me?"

"Yes, it perfect!" China replied. "You not be much use in de fight against Japan anyway, so we kill two birds with one stone!"

"I like that metaphor," Russia said.

"Oui," France agreed, "and zis way, we avoid fighting over Monsieur Germany."

"Plus, you two still have some issues to resolve, as I recall..." Britain said.

"But..." Italy protested.

"Then it's settled!" America cried. "Germany will be Italy's prisoner until we can get Japan to surrender!"

Blinking in shock, Italy looked over to Germany. His friend was still refusing to look at him.

Dressed in his kimono and kneeling by his kotatsu, Japan stared forlornly into his green tea.

"So, sis is how it's going to be, is it?" he asked himself. "I'm arone..."

He turned the cup slightly, then took a sip. After a few moments, he sighed. Losing Italy to the Allies had made things rather quiet, but losing Germany was a whole other plate of sushi. He'd now have to fight this war – that Germany had started – all by himself.

He looked up at the wall, where a poster read 'Honour' in large kanji characters. He stared long and hard at it, then sighed again.

"Fratello, I'm home!" Italy called out uneasily.

Romano rounded the corner. "Si, si..." he replied grumpily, "welcome home, ya-" He paused, staring with wide eyes. Then he exploded in rage. "What-a the hell is he doing here?"

Italy glanced at Germany, whose handcuffs he was holding. Honestly, it was a wonder he hadn't tried to escape yet. He could have easily overpowered him, if he'd wanted to.

"Uh, well..." He looked back at Romano. "He's-a my prisoner now."

Romano blinked. "Prisoner?"

"Si. He surrendered and the Aliies told-a me to watch over him... just until Japan surrenders."

Romano suddenly got an evil glint in his eyes. "Is that-a right?" He walked over to Germany and smirked at him. "Hear that, you krauty-kraut? You have to do what I say from now on!"

"Ja, I'm vell avare..." Germany grumbled.

"Doesn't feel too good, does it? Being under the thumb of another country?" He laughed manically.

"Uh," Italy said, "maybe we should-a put him in the cell downstairs, or something?"

"Just-a what I was about to say! Let's go, potato-face!"

"Ja, ja..." Germany replied.

One week of bringing pasta and pizza to the cell every day and Italy couldn't take the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach anymore. As a result, he suggested something to Romano.

"What?" he yelled. "Are-a you crazy in the head, fratello? Wait, don't answer that."

"But, Romano..." Italy replied, "Germany took-a really good care of me when I was his prisoner! He gave me a cosy little cell with pretty blue walls, lots of sunlight and even a door that led outside! I used it to flirt with some cute German girls. Plus a pillow and a book and even a guitar when I asked-a for it!" He looked through the bars of the dark, dank cell they were making Germany stay in. "And look how I'm repaying him..."

"You have-a some serious issues, Veneziano! I hope one day they make a name for what-a you have! And I hope it has the word 'Syndrome' in it!"

"Come on, Romano! I really think we should-"

"No! No way in hell am I just going to let him wander around-a the house at his own free will! Do you even know the meaning of the word 'prisoner'?"

"But, fratello!"

"No!"

"I'll keep him under house arrest! I promise! He'll be my responsibility!"

"Pch. Like I can trust-a you with responsibility!"

"Pleeeease!"

After a long pause, Romano heaved a sigh. "Oh, whatever. He's-a your prisoner, anyway... but, if he escapes, don't-a come crying to me!"

"Oh, grazie, fratello!"

"Also, he's-a not to come within twenty feet of me! You hear? Twenty feet!" He stormed off.

"Okie dokie!"

Italy turned to smile at Germany, who was giving him a rather surprised look. After a moment, the German looked away again.

For the next month, Italy pampered Germany. He let him have his own double bed – that he wasn't about to sneak in, like old times, thank you – and allowed him to do whatever he wanted, as long as it was within the confines of the house. This generally involved reading books, watching videos, running laps up and down the corridors – which always pissed off Romano – doing sit-ups and push-ups, scribbling in a notebook he'd given him and not making a single fuss about any of it. All while they patiently waited for the day that Japan would surrender. If it ever happened, that was.

Every time Italy had to go to a meeting with the Allies, Romano would complain about having to babysit Germany, saying that he'd rather cut off his own ball sack and other crude things. However, they both acknowledged that there was no other choice.

That presented an ever-burning question. Germany was much stronger than Italy. Both Italy and Romano combined, even. His muscles was so large, one body tackle from him would likely make them feel like they'd been hit by a freight truck. So why wasn't he trying to escape?

"Phew..." Italy said as he returned home from a particularly exhausting meeting. "I'm home, Ger..." He noticed that the door was wide open. He immediately freaked out. "Oh no!" Sprinting inside, he started searching around. "Germany? Germany!" He ran up the stairs. "Please tell me you're still here, Germany! Oh, who am I kidding? Why would-a you still be here? Germany!"

Germany rounded the corner, rubbing his wet hair with a towel. "Ja, vhat is it?" he asked.

Italy blinked at him. "Germany! You're still here!"

"Ja? Vhy vouldn't I be?"

Italy sighed in relief. "Oh, good... you didn't notice the front door was open..."

Germany observed him carefully for a minute, then looked away. "Actually, I knew full vell ze door vas open..."

Italy jumped. "Y... You did?"

"Ja." He continued drying his hair.

"So then... why didn't you...?"

"Try to escape?"

"Si..."

Germany shrugged. "Vhat do I have to gain if I escaped?" He pulled a face. "I surrendered, remember? Escaping vould mean I have ozer plans..."

"And you don't?"

"Nein."

"Oh."

There was an awkward pause. "Plus... it's not like you're treating me badly... Von could almost mistake zis for a hotel."

Italy smiled. "Romano keeps saying-a the same thing!" He put on his best Romano impression. "'What do you think-a this is? A hotel? Stop pampering that potato-loving bastard!' He can be such a grouchy-pants sometimes."

"More like all ze time..."

Italy laughed. "Si, si."

"Anyvay, I should... probably zank you again for not keeping me in zat cell... so... danke."

"You're welcome, Germany! Anything for a..." He paused.

"Esteemed prisoner?"

"Uh, si, si!"

There was an awkward pause.

"... Vell, I'll be in my room if you need me... sir."

Italy winced. Germany had been calling him that a lot lately.

The German turned around and walked down the corridor towards his room. Italy continued to listen to his retreating footsteps, until he heard the sound of a door closing.

He sighed to himself. That was the most conversation he'd gotten out of Germany all month. It was rather depressing.

He paused, a light bulb going off in his head. Maybe this was the chance he'd been waiting for! Smiling to himself, he ran down the stairs. Then he promptly tripped down them and landed on his face.

After a moment, he jumped to his feet and ran out the door. He didn't bother to lock it this time, either. Except, this time, it wasn't an accident.