Ah! So sorry to the people waiting for the next chapter of Present for Aizen or Cooking Lessons, but school has been eating me and i have brainblock supreme. This was easy to write because I had the help of my GLORIOUS US HISTORY TEXTBOOK. People, these things are precious and should be respected.

I don't own Hetalia...


"And they just keep coming! It's those bloody kamikaze pilots; they're completely unpredictable!" the man speaking slammed his fist angrily on the table; He ran his other hand through his spiky blonde hair. He had dark circles under his eyes. Beside him, another man lounged, booted feet up on the table. He smiled lazily. "We've defeated the Krautz you thought were invincible; I'm sure we'll get the Japs, as well."

The other man scowled. "You weren't too happy a few months ago, you surrendering coward, France!"

France pouted. "No need to get snippy, England."

"Stop fighting, both of you!" A tall man with long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail slammed both palms down on the table and jumped up. "We need to concentrate!"

"What lovely real estate Japan is," mused a huge, overcoat clad figure on France's other side. A dark smile crossed his pale face. "Once I destroy the little guy that lives there now, that is…"

The room's three other occupants slowly turned to look at him.

"WAH! Russia! That's harsh!" the ponytailed man yelled. "I don't want to destroy Japan! Invade him; subjugate him to my culture, language, and laws, yes! But not destroy him!"

"All I really want is compensation for the ships I've lost," grumbled England. "China can have Japan if he wants."

Suddenly, the door smashed open, and a young, bespectacled man in a bomber jacket tumbled in. "Good news!" he yelled, triumphantly. "We've got 'em now, oh we've got 'em now!"

England rolled his eyes. "Another harebrained scheme, I'd warrant."

The newcomer shrugged off the insult. His eyes were wide with excitement. "I've gotten a telegram"-he extracted a crumpled document from his pocket and waved it- "My lead scientists have finished testing my new highly specialized bomb!"

England's gloomy look dropped to one of interest. "Bomb? I didn't know you were testing a new bomb, America."

"Yes! And it's top of the line! I call it," he paused dramatically, "The Atom Bomb!"

France wrinkled his nose. "Is it little? Like a teeny tiny atom bomb?"

America sighed. "Of course not. But it's nuclear."

Russia looked up. "A nuclear bomb? Yes, I have been working on much the same thing," he said, brightly.

America's eyes flickered towards the tall Soviet mistrustfully. England also was keeping an eye on Russia. "What do you plan to do with this bomb, America?" he asked, not removing his eyes from the grey haired man.

America's expression went grimly blank. "I'm gonna bomb the damn Jap! Bomb 'im 'til there's nothing left!"

England glanced sideways at France, whose eyebrows went up as if to say, someone's sore, no? "America…" England tried to think of a gentle and polite way to say no way in hell just for your grudge but it wasn't easy. "We should give him some kind of warning…" he said, lamely.

"Didn't give me any warning, did he? Just dropped those little bombs right down…" America said, darkly.

"My real estate…" murmured Russia.

China went for the blunt approach. "You can't blow up Japan!" he objected, "I want Japan!"

America scowled. "I have the right-"


America's head snapped around so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. England was looking at him wearily. "We'll give Japan the chance to surrender. If he doesn't, you can bomb him. Please."

The thin blonde man looked so tired and frail that America didn't argue. England was still recovering from Germany's attack, and his economy was suffering. He nodded slowly. "Fine. But if he doesn't surrender…he dies!"


"A message from the Allies…?"

Japan nodded nervously. "Yes, Boss-sama. It says to 'surrender or face prompt and utter destruction'. Oughtn't we…?"

Japan's boss laughed. "What; surrender like that lame-ass Italy and his babysitter Germany? Never! What can they do to us?"

Japan looked helplessly at his boss, and shook his head slowly. "Nothing," he said dully. "The Empire is the strongest."

"True! Now, go prepare some more fighters; the British destroyers have received reinforcements."

Japan turned to leave. He remembered Italy's laughing, innocent face and Germany's small, awkward smiles. We were so confident in those days, he thought, miserably. What happened?


America slammed his fist down on the table, which at this point in its career in the Allied Summit Meeting Room was looking rather worn with all the people hitting it. "That's it!" he yelled, angrily, "We've given Japan waaaay too much time. I say we bomb 'im!"

England sighed. France examined his reflection in the back of a soup spoon and marveled at how beautiful he was, even in these troubled economic times. "I'm so gorgeous," he said, smiling flirtatiously at himself.

"Stop that!" England flicked the spoon away from France. "Alright, America, tell us more about this bomb of yours."

Russia leaned forward in interest. China looked worried. France snored.


"This is the bomber? The Enola Gay?"

The white-coated scientist nodded, then said, hesitantly, "However…we would advise you that it would be wiser to wait until the bomb is tested further before using it…we are still unsure of what the end result could be…"

America bit his lip. He knew full well that the bomb could use fine tuning, and yet…a vision of a tattered American flag rose to his mind, of a city in ruins, of dead, dead everywhere…

Remember December 7th.

He gritted his teeth. "Prepare the bomber."


"Boss-sama! The Allies have bombed Hiroshima!" Japan slammed the door open to his boss's study. His boss looked up coolly. "And what of it?"

Japan looked at him ashenly. "This new radioactive bomb is…beyond anything we have ever seen before. We must surrender."

His boss whacked his desk, which was nearly as abused as the Allied Summit Table. "No! One bomb, one city! Nothing!" He glared. "Go. Prepare. Fight."

Japan turned dejectedly and left the room. It was times like these that it seemed Germany's crazy boss had nothing on his.


"He won't surrender…?" said Russia, childish surprise coloring his voice. "Oh! I suppose I must declare war on him, then. I should go think of all the ways I can force to beg for mercy at my feet…"

"Russia!" China wailed.


"The Soviet Union has declared war on us," Japan reported, tiredly. "I'll go put up some more anti-Soviet posters."

"Good. Get me some of that delicious beef stew you make while you're at it, won't you?"


"Whaaaat? Russia goes at him and he still won't surrender? Is he crazy?"

England shook his head.

America jumped up and bashed at the poor table with a book. "Fine! I'll bomb him again! And again! However many times it takes!"

France picked his teeth, and wondered where he could get a bottle of Chardonnay.


Japan stared in horror at what had been Nagasaki. The entire city lay in ruins. Remains of-he didn't want to know what-lay everywhere. He dropped to his knees, dirt and blood staining his white uniform. "Alright," he whispered, brokenly. "I surrender…"


"Wow," America said, quietly. "I mean, I didn't actually…"

"think." completed England, grimly. "You didn't think. You never do." America ignored the jibe. He continued to stare at the snapshots on the table.

Waste. Rubble. Ruin.

"What was the death toll, again?" he asked, softly. England glanced at him. He had only seen America like this once before; when it had been he, England, the one in the mud, crying after defeat.

But he didn't like to think about that. No, he did not like to think about that.

"Um, 110,000…I think," he offered.

"but it'll get higher," America mumbled. "Because of the radioactive fallout."

England nodded helplessly. He reached out hesitantly and laid his slim hand on America's shoulder. America looked up in surprise.

"Hey…there was no way you could have known…"

"They said it was unstable. I knew it was unstable. But I…I…" He pressed his face into England's shoulder; a sob wracked his body. "I'm a wreck, aren't I?" came a muffled voice, after a moment or two.

"I'm not going to argue that…"

America stood up and brushed his hair out of his eyes. He smiled a little. "But I'm never going to use another one of those bombs again. Never, never, never. In fact, I think that the technology should be abolished!"

England twitched. "Erm, America...?"


"You remember that Russia was building up an arsenal of nuclear weapons, too, don't you...?"


Couldn't leave it all sad. Sorry.