AN: *sigh* okay. Get your weapons ready because now you have the right to shank me. PLEASE JUST NOT IN THE FACE! It's been…holy shit it's been a month...and I feel extremely bad about it not coming out earlier. My friend and I are going to start making it come out at least once a week and probably on the weekends. Also my friend (who's account is 'Ms. Ginny Snape') wrote this chapter because from now on she'll be helping me and stuff. She's a real good writer so I hope this chapter makes you not want to shank me anymore. But if you still do, I understand.

Hope ya'll like it, it's written amazingly well and makes you think, "woah," cause that's what I thought when I read it. You'll see the 'woah' part. Trust me.

Also! Even though Japan is in this story there will be no mentioning of the earthquake/tsunami disaster. We just thought it wouldn't be right.

Another also! We've actually had this ready for two weeks, but there was some damn error going on all over FanFiction that wouldn't let you put in stories that made me want to throw someone down the stairs.

Enjoy!

The trees cut at him as he ran on, branches and leaves blocking his eyes. He couldn't stop. He couldn't relax. He even half expected to keep running forever, from everyone, everything.
What Alfred didn't expect, though, was to fall. But fall he did. He skid and finally came to a stop down a small cliff—he was lucky he hadn't died. Alfred—slowly, painfully—got up, holding his head. He could tell he was bleeding. He felt like lying down and never getting up again. And he wasn't sure if it was because he hurt, or because of...those two...
"Damnit, Iggy, I don't need help." His shaky voice was what alerted Alfred to the fact he was on the verge of a break down. Damn it. Hero's don't cry. Arthur cries, Francis cries, Matthew cries...but not him. He refused to be a victim (which was probably why he wouldn't admit he had a problem; because he didn't; he didn't have a problem).

And so—with a very angry heart and a twisted ankle—he began to limb his way away from this cliff, trying to listen for traffic so he could find his way back. And only then, when he started really listening, did he hear the rustling; like someone was slowly edging their way to him.
"Who...who's there?" He exclaimed, looking around. Nothing. But that noise. He was beginning to get really freaked out. Late nights with scary movies and horror stories were starting to catch back up with him.
"I...I'm not afraid of you!" He yelled, more to himself than whatever it was. And whatever it was was coming closer. Closer, closer...this would be a horrible way for a Hero to die. And so, just as it was there, much louder than before, Alfred raised his arms in an X to protect himself, when,
"...Alfred?"
...Kiku?
Alfred lowered his arms, and stared, face to face, with Kiku, one of his closest friends. Just how far away from his house was he?
"...I-I-" He stammered, but Kiku cut in.
"...your thinner."
He said it so...emotionlessly. And like Alfred wasn't covered in cuts in a defensive position.
"I-I am?" Alfred said in response, having forgotten—for two seconds—about his 'problem'.
"Thinner and...Ghastly. What are you doing here?" Kiku said such things in such a monotone voice Alfred wasn't sure he actually cared. But he answered anyway.
"I-I...I had to get away from Iggy and the Frog." He mumbled, looking down. He felt like an idiot from running so far from them when all they wanted to do was help, even if he didn't need it.
"Did you come here...to die?"
That caught Alfred off guard. He looked up, surprised. Kiku seemed completely serious. "...no."
"...I did."

Alfred didn't know how to respond. So for about two minutes, they stood there, staring, Alfred in cuts and bruises and Kiku in his majestic white kimono looking to the entire world like a prince. But Kiku broke said silence.
"I take it that surprises you?" Kiku posed it almost as a question, before beginning to lower himself, sitting down. Alfred just stared at him.

"It shouldn't. Obviously, by your weight...you've come close to death, yourself. In fact, you're on the edge. Amazing you can still run so freely."
Kiku, in Alfred's eyes, wasn't making any sense, "I-I-"
"Shh," Kiku stood up, "I was coming here to fade away, but seeing you like this...I guess I've changed my mind. Come, I have a story to tell. It might help."

And so he stood, turning without waiting for Alfred, as if he knew for certain Alfred would follow. And he did. Something about the smaller male made him unable to just stand there. And plus, how would he get out of this forest otherwise?

"...Alfred, children are running culture."

It was such a random statement Alfred—once again—didn't know what to say, except,

"...what?"

Kiku sighed, long breath in, then out, "Children are supposed to take care of their elders when they grow up. It's simply the duty of the respectful child. Obedience is the norm here, America. Are children are supposed to protect us as we did them when they were young and helpless. And the fact is they don't. Not only that, but..." Kiku stopped, looking visible frustrated, if only slightly, "last generation doesn't want to reproduce. So many foreigners are coming and coming and going and no one is truly Japanese anymore. They simply live here."

Silence stretched on. Light danced on Japan's face, giving his pale skin a glow look. It wasn't pretty, but...haunting. Like a ghost. Alfred shuddered.

"...so I came here." Kiku looked up at something specific, and Alfred turned, realizing he had had his eyes on Kiku the entire shrine. In front of them was a small shrine, "This place is commonly known as 'Suicide Forest'. So many people come here to die. Mothers whose children died in child birth. Samurai whose honor had been stripped. Children who had been disowned. Priests. Workers. Doctors. Farmers. Men. Women. All died. Here"

Alfred took this as a time to speak. "...s-so you really came here to die, because of...culture."

Kiku turned on him, eyes narrowed. Alfred stepped back, alarmed. He'd only seen that look once, August 6, 1945.

"...America, you have it better then you think you do," Japan suddenly said, his eyes still narrowed, "people don't expect much from you—but what they do expect, you do it well. Despite being portrayed as an idiot, African people want so badly to live there, because you're the land of the free. The only health problem you have to deal with besides cancer—we ALL have to deal with that—is obesity. And that's it. Being fat. That's the only health problem you have. Is that really something to be ashamed of?"

Alfred didn't answer. He was stunned. Kiku...was talking to him like this, and what's weirder, is Alfred knew he was right. It was...it was a good thing that's the only thing wrong with him. At least he's hot wearing a white robe and thinking of killing himself.

Kiku walked up to Alfred, his eyes back to normal, cloudy once more, "Go back home. And I will too. You've shown me that while culture is important, I must keep my pride, as you must keep yours. England and France care about. They're your family, as China is—or was—to me. You can't throw that away if you're this wrong. Go home." Japan gently pressed his hand to Alfred's chest, and put pressure on it, as a sign to leave. Alfred could for a few minutes, before he nodded very fast.

"I...I-I will."

By now, he could hear cars again; they had cleared the dense part of the woods. He took one last look at the strange man in front of him, and turned, running from the spot with the determination of a hero. Behind him, Kiku watched silently, wondering if the man had any idea how interesting he was.