I would have vainly searched for a paper of America's passwords, but with patience and effort I got him to tell me them. I felt fortunate as I wrote each one down, although it took minutes to get them just right. Once I had all of his main passwords, it was by far time for dinner. I reluctantly left him, arriving home with a putrid smell that Kumajiro rubbed his nose at.

I sprayed the air but would not shower and change yet. Since some time had passed, I wanted to sit with America and take a look at his emails. This was the perfect opportunity to practice, so after writing my responses I read them out loud while he would gurgle a yes or a no to what I said. Truly, I was thankful he was here for me. I felt embarrassed to think of how badly I could have messed up my task if it weren't for his help.

After I had just sent off something to his boss, I worriedly asked, "Will it be hard fooling your boss in person?"

"Nyeeat aall."

"Alright, that's good…" I sighed. "But what if he comes here and finds out about you?"

"Nawt here."

"What do you mean, not here? He doesn't come to the house, or do you mean he doesn't go into the basement?"

"B-base…"

"Okay then. But I'll have to use a lot of cleaners just because, well... you smell pretty bad."

He didn't seem offended. Rather, I assumed that he was proud or humored by this just as he had been with his appearance.

After I had finished all of his work, I tackled my own. It was with the check of my social media, that I noticed that Britain had sent me a message. I raced to read it and after my eyebrows had lifted, I summarized it all for America.

"Britain says he's having trouble sleeping after I told him you were functional. I guess he doesn't fully believe me… Anyway, he wants to see you, America."

The sound he made seemed affirmative, so I agreed to hold a video chat with Britain. I rotated the laptop toward America then went and crouched near him. On the screen I could see us both before Britain appeared. It was rather unsettling seeing America there beside me though, like a jumpscare in the reflection in a movie.

Worse it was of course, for Britain. He had only heard about America, so upon glimpsing the corpse beside me, he gasped sharply. I was not sure how well America could see, but I noted the pure terror that was ignited on Britain's face. His mouth flashed open as though on the verge of calling out a warning to me, and he jolted like he needed to flee.

I realized so quickly that Britain had handled the last case differently than what I had previously imagined. He had been afraid back then too. Britain relaxed when nothing happened, but I imagined his rapid heartbeat as he tried to remember the current situation.

When Britain was not the first to send a greeting, America rasped, "Britt."

Now Britain blinked briskly and leaned closer to the camera.

"Am- America?"

I stayed quiet, already feeling invisible as the other two focused on each other.

"Yho."

"I cannot believe it!" His joy broke through his usually collected behavior. "America- you're here! I-I never thought that you would have been able to recover so much but… You're back already."

"S'prize?"

"Am I surprised?" Britain's eyes lit up and he chuckled lightly. "That hardly begins to describe it- I'm completely gobsmacked! But I'm certainly glad you are okay, all things considered. Let's just hope it stays this way."

"Whrat?"

"As you know…" In a flash, his excitement was tamed and Britain looked down. "You are probably to rot further. Until I provide you with the Regeneration Potion, you are likely to become more violent."

I interjected, "Britain, we aren't so sure… considering the situation."

"Just let it be known, both of you, that this may not last." Britain looked directly at America. "And you, don't expect Canada to let you out because he will not. No one can predict anything so please let him stay safe."

"Aie know…" And even in a thin and low moan, his exasperation was known.

"Alright then, and I'll be departing later tomor… today now I suppose. It's getting awfully late, but I'm very glad to have seen how well you are doing. Well, goodnight now." Britain looked at America with remorse and happiness, a mix that seemed to pain him. "See you soon."

He ended the call and I checked the time again, considering when I would go to bed myself. First though, I addressed America, wondering how he was taking the warning.

"You have to tell me right away when you feel weird," I advised him. "If it gets harder to think, if you start wanting to pull off my skin…"

"Mmm…" he acknowledged me, with his eyes shifting over degree-by-degree.

"Maybe I should drill it into you… that taking things from me will not help you. It won't connect and you won't go back to normal without the cure."

"Baut aie know…"

"But if it gets hard for you to think!" I repeated. "It might not be obvious then, so we got to make it stick! You don't want to hurt anyone, do you?"

Of course he didn't, so I continued without waiting for a response.

"Look, I know you've got chains… but I don't know how strong you'll get. I might have to buy more and more chains until we get the potion. If you hurt someone or- or kill someone, it will make everything so much more difficult for Britain. Then there might only be enough ingredients to just cure one and the whole thing will start again. Or worse, we get out and Britain can't contain us."

America fell quiet so I assumed that he agreed with me.

"Now then… I'll just say it. Nothing will cure you except for that potion. Nothing. You cannot steal from other nations to fix yourself."

Now, America didn't give me the same exasperation he had given Britain. I had driven him into a serious mood. I paused, then reclaimed my seat and computer in order to finish the last of my work. America doned his interest back to the TV and we stayed in an awkward silence until I sighed and closed my laptop, tired with nothing left to do.

"I'm off to bed," I murmured. "I can leave you with one channel. What would you like? Do you want me to change it?"

He turned his bloated head slowly to one side.

"Okay…" I said. "But the volume is fine, right?"

"Turn dawn."

"Really? But isn't it harder for you to hear?"

"I… wawnt t'think elittle."

I did this, but then blinked and touched the side of my face. If America wanted to ponder something, I felt that I should be worried about his emotions. Though there was hardly anything I could offer to comfort him that I hadn't already said.

Maybe he needed some time alone to absorb this all. Either way, I dipped my head and whispered, "Goodnight then, America. You probably cannot sleep, but have a good night anyway. I will see you in the morning."

"Night."

Leaving him was difficult again. I did not want him to be alone, but it was probably not good for my health to stay here long regardless. I dragged myself up the stairs and left the light on for him, though took the care to properly lock the door here and to his house.

Home again, I tossed away my clothes and rid myself of the stench with a shower. With nothing else to do, I lay myself down in discomfort to sleep. Fortunately my fatigue from all of today's events allowed me to drift away.

It was at breakfast when I heard the phone ringing from America's side. With a jolt, I left everything and hurried to America's side. Just in the final rings, I snatched the phone and cleared my throat. My mind scrambled to remember last night's emails and how America would address someone.

With just enough energy thrown into my tone, I dished out a simple, "Hey!"

"Ah, h-hello, America…" came back a light voice.

Initially, I was unable to identify the speaker. Unlike myself, I made this abruptly known.

"Who's this?"

"Oh- it's… Latvia."

"What the? Latvia? What d'ya need, bruh?"

"I'm sorry to bother you so early…"

He really thinks I'm America! This is perfect. Latvia hardly knows me so this is good practice. It's okay if I'm a little off.

"Hey, just tell me what's up. Is Russia bothering you or something?"

"Erm, no… not this time. I wanted to know if it was okay to… be coming over?"

"Come over? Like- to my house?"

"Y-yeah."

"What for?" I kept the worry out of my voice as I thought about how much I wanted no guests at America's. I hadn't yet checked on America and had no idea how he was. The rankness of death was already hanging in the air up here.

"S-some business. I also am wanting to do some visit after."

I asked loudly, "When did you want to come over?"

"In a week?"

I thought, I could theoretically prepare the house by then, but who knows how America will be then.

"Why don't you go ahead and do that vacation?" I suggested. "Anything business you can like, just message me."

"Are you too busy to see me?" Latvia asked tentatively.

"Yeah kinda," I replied. "Anyway, where'd you say you wanted to go?"

"Maybe… Florida?"

"Sure, sure. Don't even ask, dude."

"What- really? Ok-okay… thank you."

"No problemo."

"Bye-"

I hung up immediately like I thought America would, but cringed at the rudeness. Immediately however, I wanted to tell America of the encounter. Before even reaching the door though, I gagged at the powerful stench. Only once brandishing a Febreze bottle, I proceeded down the lighted steps. Tucked under my arm was as well his computer, out of hope that I could get ahead.

"America!" I called before he came into sight. "How are you feeling?"

"Ghroohd."

I understood but was immediately taken back from the difference in voice since yesterday.

It's getting harder for him to talk!

Then I saw him. No longer was he bloated, but now he was back to his normal size albeit a tinge more scrawny. His colour was more strange but he actually looked better than before. I wondered what had happened, for it seemed like he had healed yet his speech was so impaired.

I walked closer and he stared at me with unblinking eyes. They were still so glassy but did not seem any worse. My thoughts felt thick as I tried to figure it out. The decay had either accelerated faster than normal or had receded. With America, a subject not mortal, I was lost. Though upon approaching him and spraying the air, I noticed that some of the small scratches had disappeared.

"You look better!" I exclaimed. "That's great- if you can fight the rot, we won't have to worry!"

"Yhheah."

He was so much more raspy. Now my hypothesis was that his body had focused on certain spots to heal and not others. The improvement might have gone along with what Britain had said, where the rot would plateau eventually. Perhaps it would never get worse than it was now.

I squinted my eyes at movement over his body. Some black bugs had skittered over his skin and disappeared beneath his clothes. I then worried because I had forgotten to remember the insects, who could make things worse.

"I think I'll spray you with insect repellent," I whispered. "It's the best I can do…"

"Kheh."

I did just that, targeting some bugs I saw and dispatching them. I walked around and sprayed additional corners and sides to kill whatever I could, though dread already filled my chest because there was really not much I could do to be rid of so many small and stealthy creatures.

Forcing myself to stay confident, I explained, "So Latvia just called. He wanted to go on vacation here so I told him he could, but I told him not to visit. I tried to sound just like you and he didn't notice anything… Was that okay?"

"Who?"

"Latvia? A small European country…"

"Ahh… Nah like Rossie."

"No, he doesn't like him. I think he is afraid of him actually..."

I sprayed a ring around myself then opened the laptop.

"How about we work a bit?" There was really no choice for him, but he seemed eager to help. I went on to cover his messages and he assisted me in answering each one, although with more difficulty than last time. When I came to one from Russia though, I hesitated. It felt like I should not check it but there was no way it could be ignored.

"Something from Russia…" I murmured before moving to open it.

I was burning with curiosity however, wondering what they would speak about. I feared aggression, something spiteful- but found only a picture.

"Wha is?"

My eyes flickered over the full image, confused. "Cake…?"

"Kahk?"

I showed him the image but then he went quiet while looking at it. His gaze twitched and he looked back at me without comment.

"America…" I murmured. "Can you see the picture?"

He turned his head to the side. A no.

"Can you see anything?"

A slight nod.

"Well…" I tried to swallow my worry for him. "It looks like a picture he took himself. It's on a dish so I think he made it. Does he do this often?"

"Sometime…"

"What do you usually say?"

"Khool."

"That's it? Just that?" I blinked. "But if you always say that, won't he know you're not sincere?"

"Whatev."

I turned the computer back, but took an experimental scroll up. All of these messages were nothing work-related, mostly pictures or short conversations that ended abruptly. Pretty much all initiated by Russia. There were some occasional pictures of landscape, items, or food from him that America did not ignore, but did not write much to follow. The responses were dominated by cool, lol, wow, and haha.

Russia obviously knew, so I wondered how irritated he must be. Since these efforts were casual, I went against America's wish and wrote more than he requested. Though to cover it up, I claimed to America that France had sent something. I made up a general how are you sentence, so while America slowly responded, I pretended to write what he said.

Looks nice. What's in it? I instead sent to Russia. It seemed innocent and polite enough to not cause any problems.

It was just after I had dealt with the other real messages, that I received an answer from him.

There is honey.

I peeked at America, but he was refocused on the TV in my silence. Since it did not feel right to end the conversation there, I continued. After some experimental taps that America did not question, I dove into it.

Oh so it's that honey cake thing. Can I see the inside?

Very soon a picture came back of a slice with many layers of gold lined with white. The outside was decorated with crumbs and my eyes widened in admiration.

That looks awesome

I could see that he was writing a response. Amazed, I tried to imagine Russia typing on his phone, leaning against the counter in his kitchen.

You should try it. It is maybe not sweet like you would want, but I think it is very good. It is a dry cake that is best to have with hot drink.

I wrote what I thought America might, ah k

If you come over I will make it for you )))

I thought he had accidentally pressed the parentheses. Unsure now however, I typed, Little busy now sorry

Why are you always busy?

Then I knew that I had fallen onto an excuse America used too often.

Wait, I corrected it. When do you mean?

I shook my head and thought, Should I really be committing to anything?

Sometime soon would be nice ) come over.

Parenthesis again; I had no idea. But now I felt guilty that I had led him on too much. I did not feel ready to face people and pretend to be America. I didn't even have my coloured contacts yet.

Maybe in a month? I wrote, since it was far enough away and vague enough that I could extend it with excuses if I wanted to.

Then I thought, Although, if I meet with Russia I could create a friendly encounter. One that I don't think America would have. I have a chance to put things in the right direction for so many.

Russia wrote back, You are serious?

Sure

Why?

Idk I want to know how to make it

You will not look online?

I could tell that Russia had not been expecting an acceptance of his offer. Now I felt more committed to do this.

No it is better when I get it right. I hate spending so much time baking something then fucking it up

I felt like I was being too obscene, but Russia didn't seem to care.

Great! I hope to see you then.

I glanced at America who was still completely oblivious to what I had done. I imagined his lethargic anger if I outright told him, and though there was nothing he could do, I said nothing. A passion grew in my chest as I pictured all the friendly interactions I could do behind his back. By the time he was back to normal, he would be able to enjoy all the fruits of my labor.

I sent back a thumbs up to Russia. There was no response back so it was set in stone. Satisfied, I closed all of America's accounts then worked on my own things.

He creaked his head over to me. "Iz all?"

When I had gazed at him, I noticed that the colour of his teeth had changed slightly. Forcing myself not to grimace, I replied, "Yep, just going to work on my things now."

Then I paused.

"Actually… would you like to do something? You must be bored… I know you can't see well, but we could listen to videos. YouTube?"

America languidly perked up, and there was a swiftness to his hiss, "Yhes!"

I connected the computer to the TV and brought up videos of his favorite gamers. At least with the large screen he should be able to see a bit, or so I hoped anyway. I sat and watched while he seemed engaged, and while my interest was not as great as his, I was glad to be in his quiet presence. He was never really this calm on the average day.

When I left for lunch, I took a moment to step outside to inhale the breeze. I did my work on the steps before the front door, and although I felt healthier out here, I felt guilt in leaving America alone. He had been left with the news however, and I hoped he would not mind if I went for a stroll.

I knew I would end up back in that basement like it was my second life. I decided not to shower and change just yet for that reason, and also because when I sniffed at myself I could barely detect an odour.

The streets were where I went, with my hair hanging loose as me as it could be. I wandered in plaid without a particular purpose until my phone jumped in my pocket. My phone, not America's cellphone. I gasped and scooped it out, panicking when I saw it was the Prime Minister.

And I nearly exploded into America's dialect. Quickly though, I softened my voice for a greeting and waited for what would come. Somehow, it had gotten into my head that my secret had been found out. My heart beat wildly until I heard the true reason for the call: my boss planned to visit me tomorrow.

"T-tomorrow…?" I whispered. Already I wanted to claim I could not make tomorrow, but he of all people would know that I was not busy.

Maybe we can meet someplace else? I raced to find another way out. By Kumajiro's behaviour, the house had not been dosed with enough chemicals and fresh air to eliminate the smell. I could not be ready by tomorrow.

So I suggested that we chat at a Tim Hortons. Fortunately for me, this was a fellow Canadian and the offer was immediately taken. When a time was established, the call ended and I exhaled in relief.

I had been stopped at the crosswalk for a while. At the hand signal, people had gathered around me and were looking on ahead. By my hip however, I heard a high-pitched whine.

"That man smells like garbage, mom!"

My eyebrows flew up and I looked to the little girl beside me. The mother she was connected to wrinkled her forehead, clearly in agreement, although she tried to give me an apologetic look. When the walk signal came, I powered on ahead in embarrassment.

I've gotten too used to the smell.

Though when I came home later for dinner, I still did not bother to clean myself. I was back to America, wondering how he was faring. I unlocked the inner door and strolled into his home, walking through the silence to the basement door. I turned the lock here and proceeded, starting down the lighted stairs.

As I came down closer, I called, "Are you okay America?"

I heard the TV still playing, but there came no moan back. My steps slowed as my eyes widened, my hand trailing the railing with a quiver.

"America?"

I peeked my head around the wall first and jolted when I saw him. He sat where he always did, in chains and immobile. America was facing the TV still, though he had not noticed me despite my call.

I crept closer.

"America?"

I could see the colour of his skin that had changed even further from its normal tone. I also noticed lines on his cheeks that might have been there this morning, though looked worse when focused on. I gulped as still he focused on the TV, just until I came a few metres away.

Then, he twitched and his head revolved my way. America's eyes widened in his surprise. I blinked as he fixed me with a conscious gaze, then I repeated, "America?"

His eyes fell to my lips. "Whaht?"

"How are you?" I hollered.

"Ffiine…"

"You can't hear well!" I exclaimed.

"Nyehh nawt reahlly…"

"That's not good…" I sighed. "I'm sorry."

His mouth gaped, but America did not seem like he was about to put in the effort to speak what was on his mind. Since he looked sort of troubled, I assumed his thoughts.

"Why am I sorry…?" I murmured. "Well, I think it will get a little worse than this. A little, I hope. And there's nothing I can do about it."

"Izz kay."

I looked down.

"I don't understand…" I tried to force a smile. "Just how you can stay so relaxed about this."

Yet even if he did not have a reason to give me. I was glad for his nonchalant attitude. It eased me although my strand of hope was growing thinner.

"What do you want to do then?" I asked. "I still don't want you to be bored… Is there anything I can do to entertain you until Britain comes?"

"Nawt bored."

That just didn't seem right. America couldn't entertain himself just by sitting- even when lazy, he was watching something or playing a video game. He never just sat and pondered for fun. My heart lurched as it wanted so desperately to know what thoughts were running through his mind, the same ones of the night he had wanted low volume.

Perhaps this wasn't as cool as he had claimed it all to be.

"Could you hear the TV if I just turned up the volume some more?" I regarded him with a sorrowful gaze.

"Yass buht… aie don't need-"

"Just a little TV," I pressed. "Please. We can watch it together. There's always something. I'll switch the channel..."

His responding moan relaxed my shoulders. "Ahright."

"Until Britain comes," I repeated as I grabbed the remote.

Until you can no longer watch this with me.

I settled down with him again, but this time without anything to be done. This was now by far the most important thing I could do. When there beside him and having the air of caring about the TV, America became distracted from his thoughts. He was able to enjoy something again.

I felt happiness from this, because I had served not the duty that Britain had placed upon me, but the duty of a good brother.

"We could even watch movies." He looked to me as I spoke. "A marathon of anything. The Marvel movies, Star Wars, Harry Potter…"

America slowly nodded.

"It'll be like a slumber party. We'll stay up all night!"

He smiled a bit, all that he could.

"We have an early start already, so what will it be?"

I did not care what the answer was. I just wanted him to enjoy the movies while he could. And after his moaned answer, I gathered the traditional DVDs and set the first into a player.

I almost wanted to say thank you to him, for allowing us this. Instead though, I turned off the lights and curled up on the chair, hugging my knees as the lights and sounds fell over us.

"We're in for it now!" I joked, trying to pretend that the movies were all I was thinking about. "If you want to switch, it won't happen! We're starting and ending this."

America produced a peculiar hiss which I knew to be laughter.

"Well, I don't know about the run times." I shrugged. "But… If Britain arrives first, that is when we will end it."

After our non-verbal agreement, we went silent. Two pairs of eyes so different looked on as the first movie began.

I had managed to stay awake during the whole thing despite my absolute weariness. All my emotions and the new tasks to complete had left me exhausted, but since America had always been able to comment after every film, we had continued.

Throughout the hours however, there had been changes only noticed after the credits had appeared. I had never noticed from my frequent glances, but only after long periods of time had passed and I had remembered how it had been hours before. Slowly over the course of the night, his eye colour had completely changed, and I knew that something was wrong.

I watched America's eyes trained on the screen, but they did not seem to move so much. That was how I had figured out that he was blind, although he never spoke a word about it to me. We had just kept watching, and because of what he had heard, he would converse with me as though he had observed all the action.

Yet I did not want to bring him back to his thoughts, so I said nothing of it either. When the series came to an end, I simply packed up and said my goodbye, before heading up to fresh air. Just in time for the arrival of the day as well, whose sunlight pained my eyes as I trudged around upstairs.

I happened to be in the vicinity when Britain arrived. I greeted him with blurry vision and rings carved under my eyes, but there was hardly any time to talk. He wanted to see America straight away, and that he would do. Despite feeling so heavy and slow, I felt like an unnoticed shadow following Britain as he hurried through the rank air down the stairs of the basement.

"America!" he called.

I paused on the steps as Britain hopped down and raced toward him. So many hours had passed and I knew the difference all too well. Even skinnier he had become, as though he was eating up himself, and his irises were now a milky hue. And as expected, America did not react to Britain. He stared forward, but not precisely at the TV that had been left on for noise.

"He can't hear well," I reminded him. I had tried to warn him at the front door, but Britain had practically rushed past me.

Britain shifted around to America's front. Immediately I added, "He is blind now too."

But at his presence, America's head lifted. He seemed to stare right at Britain and now I became unsure of my statement. Maybe he was actually able to see then, just a little, last night.

America's mouth dropped and he slurred, "Whhrhou zhhaa?"

"It's me." Britain leaned closer and spoke loudly for his benefit.

"Bhhriiitt?"

His eyes shone. "Yes, yes. I'm here."

Britain reached out and touched America on the shoulder. I raised my eyebrows, since I had not thought about doing such a thing. I had almost considered myself forbidden to come near him, even with all that I had done for him, but there Britain was within biting range.

America turned toward the hand but did nothing to it. They stayed frozen like that for some time, until I worriedly glanced at my watch and said, "I have to get going."

Britain glanced at me. "Going where?"

I had already told him, but I repeated, "I have to meet my boss."

"Oh, alright. Do enjoy yourself then."

I stayed for a moment, feeling dread that I would leave Britain alone with America, although Britain had been the one to caution me. I gawked as Britain knelt into the stains of the floor and unexpectedly hugged my brother- the corpse, despite the certain odour and texture. And even though his neck hung close to America's mouth, he still did not snap.

Not a zombie, I reminded myself again. Ill, but America. And he's still here. Maybe just long enough for another night with us.

Yet Britain was the one we relied on. Imagining the worst, I whispered, "Be careful. We don't know what he might do."

"After you are done, we'll get some fresh air, Canada," was the manner in which Britain answered, since America was sure to have heard any other response when so close. "I will go with you and we will search for one of the flowers which should be in the area. Nothing will keep me from trying."

In other words, I will be alright and there to do it.

I decided to trust him again, since I knew his experience was beyond mine. If he felt safe right now, so be it.

When- no, no- if it gets dangerous, Britain will let me know. And that is when I will keep the door closed and stay away from him.

I crept away and headed up the stairs. Once I saw the time however, I only managed to change my clothes again and put on a big hat before I hustled out the door to my meeting. And although I would have all the tasty delights I was accustomed to at the casual encounter, I knew it would drag on.

How can I even enjoy Tim Hortons, when Britain is alone with him? What will happen while I am gone? What will they talk about and what will they do? Maybe Britain can talk some sense into him, but there's no point in him being here except for the plants, I think. This is only making everyone more sad. Because we know what will eventually happen.

The thoughts continued even while a perfect Boston Cream doughnut lay before me.

He has gotten worse.

It was as well difficult to hear my boss, let alone answer him. He looked at me sometimes in a way that I knew that he thought that there was something on my mind.

If you only knew. I gazed up and made eye contact. I wanted to have someone else to tell to relief the weight upon me, but he was definitely not the one to use.

He had still not questioned my hat. It was a little cool today and some people modeled me at the tables here, so it was not so suspicious.

When I thought about America and my time speaking to him, I thought in English. It shook my mind trying to answer back in French, and when too many times passed where I had answered back in English, we ended up switching entirely. Not that it was minded, but there had been no call for it after we had started one way.

I was eventually asked, "Is something wrong?"

I bit my doughnut just so I could have time to organize my thoughts.

"No," I murmured. That was a lie, but not necessarily what followed. "I'm sorry, but I'm just a little tired."

Of course, I would not be punished for this. After being sympathized with however, I could only look back at him and think, Just what would happen, if you knew exactly what was in my neighbour's basement… If you saw him how he was right now. What would you do?

He would be afraid. Death was understood by people like him as when all movement ceased and the body was meant to be still forever. I only wished that I understood how our lives worked so I could understand America's condition.

I imagined myself shaking my head in wonder.

Really, if only you and the others knew!