I apologize for the first chapter being so short! Subsequent chapters will be a lot longer and more varied, I promise!

Also, this is the chapter in which things start to get nasty and Alfred comes face-to-face with his first abuser, Kiku Honda.

A sharp strike suddenly hit his head, waking him up instantly from his brief slumber. Alfred couldn't suppress a frightened gasp as he was rudely dragged from his cockpit by 2 tall Japanese soldiers bearing guns far superior to his own.

How long was I asleep?

Being a polyglot, Alfred could fully understand the harsh words and taunts the soldiers were throwing his way – and the orders to torch his wreckage so that the other allies couldn't find him. He panicked visibly and mentally willed himself to wake up from this horrible nightmare, but soon had to face the cold hard reality that he was well and truly fucked.

After what seemed like hours of travelling in a cramped, dark army truck, Alfred was finally ushered out onto the kerb. He took note of the building they were about to enter; it was decidedly European in design and was one of the acting HQ's for the Axis, considering it presented with the three flags and emblems of Japan, Germany and Italy.

The truck drove off down the road and left him and the other soldier alone together – this was Alfreds' perfect chance to escape. The soldier gripped his arm tight and was marching him up the broad stairs, when Alfred suddenly swayed to the floor.

"What are you doing? Get up!" The soldier commanded, struggling to keep the heavier Alfred upright.

"Forgive me, I'm feeling very dehydrated…" Alfred blathered pathetically.

"I don't care – Get up!"

Alfred crouched and shot upwards from the floor, the momentum granting his head butt extra force as he smashed his crown up into the soldiers' chin. The shattering teeth made an awful crunching sound as they imploded into each other and the soldiers' screams of agony rang around the empty square; Thank God that everyone's hiding out in the bomb shelters,Alfred thought as he took his chance to escape.

He kicked the soldier squarely in the ribs and sprinted down the street – keeping his eyes peeled for an abandoned home he could duck into. He ran for all of three minutes when his left calf suddenly exploded with pain and he crashed face first onto the ground; his glasses smashing on impact as they fell from his bridge. He whipped his head round to have a look at what had caused him to fall and saw with wide eyes that he had been shot. He scrambled to get back up, but he could not put any weight on his damaged limb and his foot kept slipping in the blood.

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck

The marksman was on his tail – somewhere – and Alfred had to get away somehow. He began to crawl hurriedly using the commando techniques he had been taught at base camp, but it wasn't fast enough. Thundering feet and more screaming orders sounded as he was roughly flipped onto his back and dragged by his legs towards the building he had tried to escape from.

"Let go of me you slanty-eyed fucks!" He screamed, burning with humiliation as they laughed and taunted him in broken English and crude mimicry of his American accent.

Arriving at the foot of the stairs, Alfred twisted to flip back onto his front and dug his nails into the cracks of the pavement to anchor himself down, but soon let go as he felt his nails tearing away from their bed. He begged to be allowed to stand, but they kicked him back onto his back and teased him once more.

"No need to walk, American, We'll help you up the stairs!" and with that, they dragged him up the stone cold steps – his head banging and bruising rapidly and the tearing pain in his leg becoming unbearable.

"Please! Let me! Stand!" He gasped with every knock on the back of his head, but his captors just ignored him and muttered insults between themselves.

After 5 minutes of this hell, the soldiers left him on the plateau at the head of the stairs and resumed their guard posts in front of the building. Alfred wheezed for breath as both head and leg throbbed and burned with agony – there was no way he could escape like this. Soft, orderly footsteps pattered across the stone towards Alfred, he turned his aching head to the side and faintly saw his pathetic face in the shiny black leather shoes of the commander.

"In feudal times, the Bushido code stated that the penalty for forcing the head of the building to come outside was certainly death." The voice was calm and similar to a kindly teachers' in that it was serious yet soft.

Alfred was unaffected however and turned back towards the horizon

If you're going to kill me, do it now you fucking prick.

Alfred was hewn to his unstable feet by 2 burly soldiers and was finally face-to-face with the soft-spoken young man. Alfred was slightly taken aback by the mans' femininity; his complexion was so pure and his features were so delicate that Alfred could easily mistake this slim young man for a woman.

Alfred stared into his eyes – those deep pools of grey that spoke of wisdom and mystery - as the young man shook off his gaze, turned to the side, and simply murmured

"Perhaps death would have been a better fate for you, America."