(A very silly oneshot xD)

Japan was a quiet nation by nature. Whilst his fellow nations ranted and raved about various unimportant, hugely unrelated things (e.g. superheroes, pasta and molesting Latvia), Kiku remained silent, nodding his head whenever asked a question.

It was a lot safer that way.

As every world meeting seemed to descend into chaos after ten minutes or so (the shortest time it took for a full-scale fight to break out was six seconds, when Francis 'accidentally on purpose' knocked Arthur's untouched, boiling hot tea onto his lap), Kiku felt nothing would be accomplished by stoking the fire.

Getting involved in such an ugly state of affairs would surely have a negative outcome. At best, he would lose a limb. At worst, he would lose twelve limbs and his much-treasured sanity.

And Kiku didn't want to go insane. Or at least, Kiku didn't want to descend into some horrible, Battle Royale-esque situation where everyone was an enemy and you had to kill them all to survive.

So Kiku didn't say anything.

Thus, Japan was a quiet nation.

A quiet, but sane, nation.

And sanity was becoming increasingly harder and harder to find during the regular world meetings.

Moreover, Japan was a refined, polite, soft-spoken nation, who disliked loud noises and arguments.

One could consider it exceedingly unfortunate, therefore, that Kiku had such a large legion of cult followers; a vast, never-ending sea of people that would gladly swim across a river of razorblades just to be eclipsed by the oriental nation's shadow.

They were pretty scary, those fangirls.

Why couldn't they go pester Francis, who would undoubtedly enjoy all the attention?

But, oh yeah, France wasn't the country that created, produced and distributed anime. The only things France was famous for were berets and snails, and perhaps those annoying mime artists that almost everyone seemed to hate.

There wasn't exactly a lot to build a fan base on.

As such, Kiku was – as Arthur would say – the poor sod who got chased from world meeting to world meeting by well-organised teams of 'otakus' – sad people who would, most likely, get pelted with stones if they actually did go to Japan.

Contrary to popular belief, Japan wasn't some magical country where nerds were loved and welcomed by all. It was a lot like England and America, or anywhere else in the world. Substituting random English words for bad Japanese and dressing up as Pikachu did have a tendency to make you fairly unpopular no matter where you went.

Today was no exception to the general 'let's all band together and harass Kiku-chan because we're all scarily obsessive fangirls!' fad.

Funny thing was, it all started with one girl. She had been quite sweet, really, looking up and going 'a-are you J-Japan?' in this cute, stuttery way.

Kiku, after much deliberation, decided the single girl would not pose any major threat. She seemed nice and normal enough. After all, she wasn't throwing herself at him; she wasn't dressed up as Sailor Moon; she wasn't screaming 'KAWAII!' and 'SUGOI!' every other sentence and she wasn't called 'Hatsune Miku-chan Psyduck Death Note Nagato Yuki Cagayake Girls the Fifth'.

Each of these points were fairly comforting, and put Kiku's doubts to rest.

And then the girl had to say the fatal words that changed everything.

"W-wow! That's s-so cool! I'm talking to J-Japan! I'm talking to Kiku-san! You don't m-mind if I call you Kiku-san, right? My friends all think you're really cool! Hehe…" She giggled, blushing. "We like anime, too."

As if on cue, three other girls appeared before Kiku's eyes; almost as though they were plants that had grown out of the grey, gum-splattered concrete.

"Kiku-chan!" squealed one delightedly, "this is amazing!"

"Totally!" added the second.

"Sugoi desu!" finished the third.

Kiku couldn't help but note it was strange how quickly one fangirl became four, four became twelve, twelve became twenty and twenty became twenty thousand.

And they wouldn't.



It was even worse than being in a world meeting.

It was even worse than that time Francis spilt tea all over Arthur, prompting the Brit to flip out and do a total 'Ryuugu Rena from Higurashi' transformation. All he needed was a hatchet and a white dress to make the change complete. It had been quite scary, really.

But not as scary as all the fangirls.

"Japan-chan! Suki yo desu! Kyahhhhh!"

"Ohayou gozaimasu! Watashi wa Alicesu-chan!!!"

"I just love you, Japan! You're so sugoi!"

"Definitely sugoi!"

"Neee! Hajimemashite!"



"Can you teach me the Hare Hare Yukai?! It's so cool!"

"Screw that! I can already do the Hare Hare Yukai!!!"

"Motteke Sailor Fuku is a better dance, nee!"

"Konata-chan is, like, the best character in the world! I can totally identify with her, you know?!"

"Sekai de ichi-ban orhime-sama~~"

"Aishiteru yo! Honto ni, honto ni!"


"Suki… um… Yaoi? Yaoi desu? Yay!"

"Is there anything going on with you and China???"

"What about America and England? It's, like, KAWAII DESU!!!1!!!1!"

"Tsunderes~~ Kawaii desu, nee? Like Kagami and Akita Neru-chan, nee?! And England?! Teehee~"

"USO DAAA! Higurashi, nee? Desu?"




And all the poor nation could do was stand there, bowing courteously to each and every fan, not having the heart (nor the vocal capacities) to drive them away. Crying silently on the inside.

I can't possibly bow to this many people!

A nasty crack soon followed this distressing train of thought, followed by an immense burst of fiery anguish.

I think I've broken my spine.

a.n: wheeeee. first hetalia fanfic~ i hope the characters seem ic x3
plz don't be offended by any of this. it's not meant to be an attack on anyone. i'm a japbrat too xD perhaps not to that level, though xDD
reviews? plz?