Adult-FanFiction.org : Anime

Dark Intentions	By : dreamingvision Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 2589 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers or the major cast. I do not profit financially from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
Four weeks later . . .
"And in international news, the entire world was stunned today when the U.S. government announced it was shutting down the Chinese embassy in Washington, D.C. and their five consulates in New York City, Chicago, Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Houston, sending all Chinese officials and their staff back to their home country. Rumor has it that all of the U.S. embassies in China were shut down several weeks prior, but Chinese officials have refused to say. Trade between the two nations has come to a standstill, but there still is no official word as to why this is taking place . . ."
Japan listened as the reporter spoke about the relations between China and America or the lack thereof. No one from either government had commented as to why the two were no longer in communications and trading with each other or why it had ceased in the first place. Neither had asked other nations to intercede, either, and it had the rest of the world watching with baited breath as to what would happen next. All the world knew was that America had shut down all of his embassies in China and was now doing the same in the U.S.
"He's such an ass! I can't believe he's doing this! Ai yah!"
He winced at his older brother's shout of irritation and indignation. Japan didn't necessarily like it when others shouted in his presence, preferring a tranquil and serene environment as much as possible. It was a habit he'd tried curbing in America as much as he could when the younger nation used to visit him, and he was of the mind to treat China the same way he'd treated America in such instances – a newspaper fan to the back of the head only once worked wonders on the younger nation. Japan felt it would do wonders for his older brother as well. Before he'd gone into isolation, America knew how far he could push Japan with his boisterousness, and he'd always been careful in not aggravating the island nation.
Japan also didn't hold the same precise opinion of America as his older brother. Oh, he saw what the rest of the world did in the blond nation – young, impetuous and filled with insane ideas; a bit of a wild card, always speaking with an authority no one believed he possessed, but it was also part of America's charm. He saw the world in ways no one else did – he hadn't lost that wonder of his surroundings, and he still believed that anything was possible. Once he set his mind to do something, he let nothing deter him, even when others said it couldn't be done. As a nation, he'd accomplished much in such a short amount of time. Most nations couldn't make that claim. Japan glanced at his older brother.
China had propped himself against a wall, his arms buried within the sleeves of his traditional dress shirt. His panda rested on the floor next to him, along with a cup of half-finished tea, and a scowl marred the older country's youthful face. He knew from that expression his brother wasn't happy and that he was confused. America's actions baffled not only the rest of the world but China as well.
"Is that why you came here?" Japan inquired, shutting of the television. "To carr America-san an ass?"
"He's up to something," China muttered. "He's up to something. I just know it."
"You make it sound sinister," he commented, his tone light.
"He's paid off his debt to me," China snapped. "He overpaid, in fact, after paying only the absolute minimum and left without saying a word to me. How is that not up to something?!"
Japan sighed and shook his head. His older brother could be such a drama queen sometimes.
"Did you even see him when he was there?"
"No . ." China pouted a little.
"So you didn't even offer him any hospitarity when he was there."
"No . . ." Now his brother tried to shrink within the confines of his shirt.
"And that means you don't know what Amerika is pranning on doing, do you?" Japan pressed forward, more than a little miffed his older brother for being a rude host, as it were.
At that, China didn't move. He didn't speak.
"I thought you wanted Amerika to pay off his debt to you," Japan said. "You said as much to him at the rast conference he attended. Don't terr me you didn't mean it."
"I did mean it!" China snapped. "I just . . . I just didn't expect him to pay the remaining balance after being so sluggish with the original payments. His economy has been bad for years. I've heard the rumors. I've heard that his Wall Street hasn't been doing much trading. I'm sure you have, too. I was expecting him to beg me to help him out, to lend him some more money to keep him going, not to be paid back everything with interest."
"So why don't you carr him and tark to him?" Japan asked, knowing full well what the answer would be – can't call America. He isn't answering any of my calls. He hasn't since before the last world conference meeting.
"I don't want to talk to him," China grumbled. The island nation fought the urge to roll his eyes, sigh, and shake his head. It was basically the same answer, just worded differently.
"But you want to know what's going on with him, don't you?" Japan pressed.
"I want him to just disappear."
"Why?"
"Because I hate him! And I hate the fact that you don't hate him!"
"You have no reason to hate him," Japan said. "At reast, not now, you don't . . ."
"But I do hate him," China said. "I hate how he always wanted to visit areas that are restricted to tourists. I hate that he was always telling me what to do and how to treat my people. He's still a young country. I hate that he got involved in Korea and Vietnam. What does he know?"
Japan said nothing to that. What his older brother spoke of was petty, insignificant even, in the grand scheme of things. China had never once faced America's true wrath. He had. He knew just how capable and how intelligent the younger nation truly was, and he never forgot it, either. America simply hid behind a mask of happiness, bubbliness, and hyperactivity because it was what others expected of him. Japan folded his hands in his lap, the memories of the atom bombs dropping on Hiroshima and Nagasaki still fresh in his memories. The burn scars had never faded from his body. He still felt the loss of all those lives from those attacks. There were times, late at night, when his mind reeled from the effects of the radiation poisoning. If anyone in this world had reason to hate America, it was Japan and it was for the cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
But then, it stood to reason that America had reason to hate Japan as well. He'd pulled the young nation into World War II, something he'd been trying to avoid for as long as he could. In his short years as a nation, America, Alfred, had experienced everything other nations spent hundreds of years learning and trying to get right. Japan thought of one of his first meetings with the younger nation, shortly after Custer had made his final stand in the American Wild West.
"What was he rike?"
It was warm outside. The two nations sat next to the window, staring out at the summer blooms. Several months had passed, and word of the battles on the American plains between the U.S. Army and American Indians were reaching the island nation. Of those battles, Japan found himself fascinated by one man in particular.
"Huh?" America's blue eyes blinked, confused. Japan fidgeted in his seat, thanks to a small tremor of excitement. It was his second meeting of the week with the younger nation, and he'd to ask about the battles taking place between the American Indians and America's army. He'd heard of the Battle of Little Bighorn. He'd heard of Custer's last stand.
"Generar Custer . . . what was he rike? You did know him, right?"
"Oh . . ." For a moment, the young nation's expression was troubled and uncertain. Japan knew that most of America's people thought the General to be a hero, that the Indians living there respected the man so much that they hadn't mutilated his body in battle, and he was curious as to what the embodiment thought of such a great person. He thought America would be proud of such a man, but, upon seeing his expression, he wasn't so sure.
"Is there something wrong?" he asked. "Have I offended you?"
"No . . ." America shook his head. "It isn't that. It's just that . . . I didn't know you'd heard about Custer.
"Oh . . . but you did know him?" Japan leaned forward.
"Of course. I know every commanding officer in the Army," America replied. His hands started to fiddle with his teacup.
"So what was he rike?" Japan inquired, not failing to notice the younger nation's nervous behavior and change in attitude. He didn't exactly seem comfortable talking about one whom many Americans were calling a hero. "You must be proud to have such a hero amongst your peopre.
"I wouldn't exactly call Custer a hero."
"You wourdn't?"
"No . . ."
"Why . . .?"
"Because it isn't exactly heroic to murder defenseless women and children and call it a battle," came the bitter reply. The younger nation averted his gaze to the gardens.
"Surery the Indians he fought respected him," Japan said. He felt confused. Hadn't Custer done what America had wanted him to do?
"No." America shook his head. "They didn't respect him. Not at all."
"I don't understand," Japan murmured. "I heard about his farr, that he was the rast to die . . . I heard they cut off an ear and a finger. Isn't that a sign of respect?"
"He wasn't the last to die." At this, America's gaze traveled from the window to his hands. "He was the first to die. He was a lousy leader. As for the Indians cutting off his ear and his finger at the end . . . It's their way of saying he was a poor listener and a thief," the younger nation replied. "He didn't respect them . . . he didn't listen . . . They cut off his ear and his pinky finger so they'd know him in the afterlife and that maybe there he'd listen to them better. Jim Bridger tried to warn him. He wasn't exactly a very bright man. His soldiers were more feared than he was."
'Is that how you felt on those days, America? When your people dropped those bombs and killed my children?' Japan thought. He still felt the phantom pains from Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and often when he least expected. 'More like a villain than a hero? I never asked you . . .'
He barely remembered the meetings between his boss, America, and his boss in those days. His mind had felt cloudy and feather-light, but he remembered America, remembered Alfred. He hadn't been smiling. Too much had happened, too much had changed, and Japan knew he'd done something to sever his friendship with the younger nation. The attack on Pearl Harbor had come from out of nowhere, all because Japan and his boss had signed an agreement with Germany and his new boss, and Alfred undoubtedly felt betrayed by Japan's actions. The attacks – Pearl Harbor, Hiroshima, Nagasaki, and the air raids done on Tokyo – they'd changed the way he and America interacted with each other. The younger nation dismantled his army but vowed protection. Japan didn't think the disbanding of his army and the vows of protection were so much because America felt protective of him but wary, concerned, and mistrustful. Neither could have what they'd had before the war, but they certainly tried to forge better relations afterwards. It took them some time, but their people managed the transition better than anticipated, and it was soon a love/hate relationship. Over the years, their people traveled back and forth, exchanging cultural and intellectual ideas. Japan's people embraced the technology. When the earthquake and tsunami struck in 2011, Alfred and his people were the first to lend a hand, bringing in anything the island nation required. There were shadows in America's eyes then, just as there had been shadows in his eyes after dropping the bombs.
In thinking of the past, Japan knew, felt he had more reason to hate America than his older brother. A part of him still did, but he also knew that the past was the past. The younger nation had been repentant for the damage caused by his atom bombs, seeing first hand the damage and after effects of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and he'd done everything he could to help Japan recover and rebuild. In the meeting that followed between the two nations, it was the only time Japan had ever seen America cry.
"He is planning something," China said. Japan tilted his head. "And it isn't the suicide Canada and Mexico mentioned."
"And how can you be so sure?"
"Because they never mentioned him closing down any of his embassies or sending ambassadors home. That's why. There is something off about all of this, and I don't like it."
"I stirr think you shourd carr him."
"He hasn't spoken to anyone in years!" China snapped. "He's accepted no phone calls and he's not sent any. Do you really think he'll answer after all this time?"
"Then go there," Japan answered.
"How?" China said, sneering. "All flights to and from the U.S. have been cancelled."
"What?"
"You didn't know?" China shook his head. "It's just happened in the last few days. All Americans abroad have returned home . . . or so the news reports are saying."
"Arr frights cancered?" Japan felt as if he'd been sucker-punched. He knew that many of his businessmen and women were frustrated because they couldn't reach their American contacts, and government officials were starting to express concern from the lack of communications from the U.S. officials. The embassies were quiet, and Japan's attempts to call the younger nation went unanswered. Was China right? Was America planning to declare war? China was correct. The younger nation shutting down his embassies and ceasing trade with other nations wasn't how Canada and Mexico described things to them. Japan glanced at his older brother and narrowed his eyes.
"What's he done?" Japan asked.
"What do you mean?"
"There's reason why you're angry," Japan said, rising to his feet. "There's reason why you're here. What's he done to rire you up rike this?"
China turned his head away. Ironically, he looked out the same window America had when Japan asked about Custer, but the island nation chose to say nothing about it. Instead, he narrowed his eyes.
"Yao . . ."
"Why should I say anything more?" the older nation muttered. "You . . . you will just take his side on this anyway. You always agree with him and his insane ideas. You don't care who you hurt when you do . . . Ai yah . . ."
"Don't pretend you know how I think," Japan growled. He started to say more. He wanted to say more, and he'd risen to his feet in order to make sure his older brother heard his words.
In those moments, two things happened that prevented Japan from speaking his mind. The first was his cell phone ringing. He glanced at it, noting it was his boss. Glaring at his brother, he answered.
"Moshi, moshi . . ."
"Moshi, moshi, Kiku," his boss said. "I've just spoken with the Amerikan ambassador, and he's requesting a meeting with you and myserf."
"A meeting? After days of not contacting us?" Japan said. At this, China finished his tea and rose to his feet.
"I will talk to you later," he murmured. "Thank you for the tea, Kiku. I've enjoyed your hospitality."
The second thing to happen was watching Yao as he walked out the door while Japan's boss continued speaking. Overwhelmed and confused by the older nation's behavior, Kiku could only watch as he stepped out and disappeared into his car while his boss continued to speak.
"Hai . . . a meeting but not with him specificarry. There is a deregation that's newry arrived from Amerika . . ."
"I'd heard arr frights were cancered . . ."
"Werr, yes . . . arr frights are cancered . . . This is a speciar deregation from Amerika . . ."
"I'rr be there. When and where do they wish to meet?"
* * *
"You stupid idiot! How the hell can you mistake Canada for me? We might look alike but we're nothing alike! Nothing! Only an idiot would make that kind of mistake! If you ever so much as lay a hand on him again, I will make you regret it."
Getting to the Metropolitan Government Building in Shinjuku ward at the appointed time to meet with the American delegation proved to be more difficult in reality. With the Shich-Go-San around the corner, many of the local shrines were preparing for the young visitors, and the streets, as always, were quite crowded as people commuted to and from work. Many were also out and about for the sake of being outside and to enjoy the nightlife of Tokyo.
The drive there frustrated Japan. He didn't know what the American delegation wanted with this meeting, but he knew that America himself was amongst the delegation. He'd felt it the moment the younger nation stepped off the plane. There was something else, too, he'd noticed, an immense level of wrongness. He couldn't place what it was or why it was even there. The sensation left him feeling anxious and vulnerable. Japan hadn't felt such an overwhelming feeling helplessness in a long time, not since the bombings of Nagasaki and Hiroshima and the air raids of Tokyo. In his mind, he saw America.
"This is so cool!" the younger nation crowed before laughing. They were at the top of the tallest tower in the country, and America was more than impressed. He was absolutely elated, and Japan couldn't help but wonder how the bubbly, blue-eyed blond would react to seeing the world's tallest roller coaster, which was also in his lands.
"Can you tell me how to make friends with whales?"
"I don't understand . . . Can you tell me why? Why did you decide to attack me like that? I thought we were friends."
"Kiku, I'm so sorry . . . I shouldn't have . . . I didn't . . . I'm so sorry . . ."
"You want me gone? You hate me that much? Fine. Consider me gone. You won't ever see me again."
'It's just my imagination,' he told himself. Still, the wrongness didn't stop him from trying to drive a little faster than what he normally would.
He reached the government building as the sun started to set. The first thing Japan, Kiku, noticed was the number of government cars lining the streets. One car stood out amongst the others, the miniature American flags flapping in a light breeze. Several uniformed officers stood guard and waved to Japan in acknowledgement as he ran to the building, flashing his government I.D. in the process.
By the time he reached the designated meeting area, Japan realized that America wasn't among the delegation, as he'd originally believed. He wanted to see the younger nation, to talk to him, and to simply . . . he didn't know. The entire drive from his home to Shinjuku ward, he remembered all of the times he'd seen America displaying a wide array of emotions, including the anger and hurt from when the younger nation was last seen at a world conference. It was the first time since the end of World War II where Japan felt his anger and frustration with the younger nation reaching a boiling point. He'd still reeled from the effects of the earthquake and tsunami as well as the feelings of nausea from one of the country's nuclear power plants reaching critical and the wariness of his people towards his government on top of economic troubles. He didn't want to acknowledge that the younger nation was dealing with his own troubles. Like everyone else there, he just wanted to blame someone for his problems. Despite their friendship, America had made the perfect target, and Japan wanted to apologize for not speaking up in the younger nation's defense. It wasn't just America's fault the global economy suffered. Everyone played a part, and some things, like earthquakes and wild fires, were just beyond their control. Japan stepped into the room, and everyone assembled glanced at him. He didn't fail to notice four very large, silver briefcases attached by handcuffs on the Americans. The briefcases themselves were almost large enough to become carry-on luggage.
"Gomen-nasai," he said, bowing. "I hope I am not rate . . ."
The American delegates – three women and two men – bowed in return. One of the women smiled, a friendly gesture, but Japan couldn't help feeling there was something off and wrong with it. She was the only one without a briefcase attached to her wrist.
"No need to apologize, Honda-san," she said. "You're right on time. Shall we get started?"
"Of course," Japan's boss said. He gestured to the table, where they had tea waiting. The Americans each took a seat as did the Japanese officials in attendance. Everyone moved but Japan. When he didn't sit at the table with them, all eyes landed on him, and Japan, Kiku, felt each set of eyes boring into him.
"Honda-san?" the woman inquired. "Is there something wrong?"
"Iie," he said, shaking his head, but he still didn't move. "Forgive me for being rude, but I thought there wourd be another person here for this. Where is Amerika-san?"
"Oh . . ." the woman's smile disappeared. In fact, her face as well as the faces of the other Americans, displayed no emotions whatsoever as she continued, "America is unable to attend due to illness. He stayed behind at the embassy in order to rest."
"Then why did he fry here in the first prace?" Already, Japan knew he was being rude, but he couldn't stop himself from asking the question. It was ask the question of why Alfred chose to journey there in the first place or call the woman a liar. Tensions between America and China were already on the rocks for who knew what reason. The last thing Japan wanted to do was add to the mix by starting a fight with the country who provided him with military protection.
"Japan!" his boss hissed, scandalized. The woman held up her hand.
"It's quite all right," she said, her fake (that's all Japan could think of to describe the emotion in her actions) smile back in place.. "We do understand that it's been some time since our nation's embodiment has ventured to other countries. Japan-san's curiosity is only natural."
"O-of course," his boss stammered, laughing a bit nervously. "This is true. I must admit, I am arso curious . . ."
"America was feeling fine when we boarded the plane," she said. "It was simply something he ate along the way. It just isn't agreeing with him. That's all. If you'd like, I can let him know you asked."
'He arready knows I've asked,' Japan thought, but he couldn't dispute what the woman told him. 'It's why you're rying for him . . .'
He couldn't call her out on the lie, either. He had no proof other than a gut feeling that America was avoiding him for some reason, and China's words echoed around in his mind.
"He's up to something. I just know it."
"If you wourd, prease," Japan said, finally moving towards the table. Already, he decided he planned on visiting the American at his embassy. He wasn't about to let the younger nation leave without at least saying hello and talking with him.
"Of course," the woman replied. "Shall we begin?"
* * *
By the time the meeting with the delegation ended, Japan's eyes burned from exhaustion, and his thoughts tumbled around in confusion. He tried to latch onto the first thing that could make sense to him, and that was what the briefcases contained.
America had paid back his debt. Just as he had with China, he'd not only paid off his debt to Japan but overpaid. As with China, throughout the years since he was last seen, America and his government had been making sluggish payments of the minimum. Despite best efforts to boost the younger nation's economy, things remained slow and uncertain. Japan had seen a decrease in his usual exports to America – games, manga, and anime for translation, computer hardware, cars – over the years, and it was curious as to how the younger nation could afford to pay everything back. It was even more baffling as to how he could do so on the heels of paying off China. Had America raided Fort Knox?
Then there were the issues of defense and energy. In the delegate's hands were papers, stating that Japan could form his own military once more and that, before the month ended, ships would arrive to help update and improve efficiency of the island nation's nuclear power plants. In the meantime, the U.S. military stationed in Japan would be training his people on how to fight and how to fly jet fighters. It would be a long process, but one, the delegate assured Japan and his boss, would be worth in the long run. Japan kept quiet as the delegation handed over the money (in yen; not American dollars) and the written agreements on what roles the two nations would play in the next several months. There were no requests for more money, and there were no requests for aid in a potential declaration of war. If China was correct and America did plan on declaring war against the Communist nation, then why wasn't the younger nation asking for aid of some kind? The meeting continued for four hours as each point in the agreements was discussed, agreed to, discussed, and agreed to for a second time. Japan and his boss wanted to be sure they were hearing and reading everything correctly, that it wasn't some kind of a prank or trap. The entire time he sat through the meeting, Japan couldn't shake the feeling of wrongness over the whole situation. In truth, while he was happy that America had paid off his debt, he didn't want all of the extras that were coming with the final payment. While he admitted to himself it would be nice to have his own army again, he didn't like where the current situation with America was heading, what it was ultimately going to cost Kiku in the end.
'There is onry one way to find out what is going on with him.'
Japan started to steer his car towards the American embassy. The younger nation remained in his country, and he believed that the blond nation wouldn't leave so soon after arriving, not if he'd eaten something that made him sick, a story of which Japan didn't truly buy the premise. He knew America was avoiding him. He just didn't know why, and he intended to find out. Unlike China, he wasn't going to do nothing while a good friend and an ally slipped away from him.
It took him longer than he would have liked it to for him to reach the embassy, thanks to the number of cars and pedestrians on the streets. When Japan pulled in front, he noticed right away that the building was quiet. Deathly quiet. There were no guards at the gates, the gates themselves were open, and the lights were off. There were no cars parked in front of the building, nothing to even indicate the place had been occupied mere hours earlier. Heading into the building, he found that the staff was gone. The only items that remained were the furniture and linens. There was no food in the pantries and no papers in the offices. Japan could only stare in shock and befuddlement, and he remained that way, even as he sensed America leaving, the plane already in flight. Finally, as he gazed around, wandering from room to room, China's words floated back to him.
"Because they never mentioned him closing down any of his embassies or sending ambassadors home. That's why. There is something off about all of this, and I don't like it."
'Crosing down his embassies . . . sending ambassadors home . . . he's done this to China and now he's doing it to me . . .'
The realization hit Japan like a punch to the stomach, and he dropped to his knees. In anguish, he stared at the vacant rooms. There was so much happening, events kicking into motion that Canada and Mexico never mentioned, just as China had told him. Was his older brother correct?
Was America going to declare war?

*******************************

Historical and author's notes for this story can be found with said story on the fanfiction.net, deviantart.com (inuliana), and archiveofourown.org websites.
- 2
- 3
- 4
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Dark Intentions