America and Japan faced each other on the rocky beach, guns unsteady in their hands.
Japan's once-white uniform was ruined, torn, every inch black with filth and dried blood. His wounds were healing slowly, the cut over his left eye causing him to squint, his jacket hanging open and exposing a torn and stained undershirt. He was half-starved and exhausted, but determined. He had walked straight out of the prime minister's office, weeks ago, taken up his weapons, and joined the battlefield himself. He had moved from place to place, avoiding capture, fighting with the pure rage of an avenging angel. His country was rapidly heading for defeat, but he refused to give in.
"Please," America said shakily for the third time. "Put the gun down and come with me."
"No," was the uncharacteristically blunt reply, anger simmering through the word.
"I know you've got no reason to trust me-"
"Damn right I have no reason! I should have expected more lies from you, after you've been dropping this bullshit on my cities!" Japan shouted, pulling a crumpled leaflet from his pocket and waving it. America remembered those. His people had worked hard on that message. He was so proud of it.
We are determined to destroy all of the tools of the military clique which they are using to prolong this useless war. But, unfortunately, bombs have no eyes. So, in accordance with America's humanitarian policies, the American Air Force, which does not wish to injure innocent people, now gives you warning to evacuate the cities named and save your lives ...
Japan stuffed the leaflet back in his pocket and continued to shout. "I can't believe this! If you're going to spread propaganda, at least make it believable! Why should you care what happens to my people? None of us ever did care before!"
"Well, maybe now's the time we should," America said mildly. "Look, this whole clusterfuck's been going on for too long, there's no need to drag it out! Just surrender and we can salvage something from this mess!"
"Japanese has no word for surrender!"
America blinked. "Yes it does. Kofuku."
"I'm speaking figuratively, you moron. And your pronunciation is excremental."
"Look, man, if you don't give up, you'll die."
"Good," Japan spat. "I've disgraced myself enough, perhaps I can reclaim my honour that way."
"Stupidity isn't honour! You can't fix something you did wrong by doing the same thing only bigger!" America took a step forward, tilting his gun downwards but not putting it away. "What about your people? Without you, all of them will suffer much worse than they are already! And I don't want you to die!"
"Why not?"
"Do you want me to die?" America asked, sounding hurt. "We liked each other, once. Remember?"
"That was a long time ago." Japan kept his gun trained on America, though it shook visibly in his hand. "I don't resent you, but I will kill you if you force me. I can't sink lower than I already have."
"Then the only way to go is up."
Japan was silent, and the gun barrel in his hand moved almost imperceptibly downwards. America stepped forward, then again, and put his free hand on the weapon. "Come on, put the gun down and- oof!" His words were cut off by a fist to his jaw, and the butt of the gun slamming into his gut.
"No! I will never surrender, do you hear-" Japan dropped his gun and his hands went to his side. "What the ... ah! Hurts ..."
"Fuck." America's eyes widened. "I guess they must have started already."
Japan tried to speak, but the words came out as a weak cry as the pain intensified. He tore open his jacket and undershirt to see a blossoming burn, reddened skin turning white, then darkening to black and cracking, deeper, wider. His vision started to blur.
The last thing he saw was America leaning over him, saying "Shit, shit, it's okay, hold on, I'll help you, I'm the hero, I can fix this ..." Everything faded until all Japan was aware of was the pain, and then even that slipped away from him.
(The quote is an actual extract from leaflets dropped by the US prior to the bombing.)