Japan was completely wrecked.
A black haired man limped and stumbled about the remains of his nation, depending on the wall of one of the few buildings left standing to stay upright. The other hand gripped his chest. He wouldn't look up. Seeing what his home had become made his heart hurt worse than his body.
The earthquake had devistated Japan. It had downed strong trees, torn apart roads, leveled suburbs and cities alike, and countless homes. Magnitude 8.9, and every single aftershock that followed. That was why he was broken. He was walking with a broken ankle, quite possibly a broken leg and arm, and several damaged ribs. He could feel the jolt up his spine whenever the bone fragments stabbed his nerves, could hear the sickening and telltale cracks every time he moved.
The earthquake caused a tsunami. Wave after wave of black ocean water swept through the streets. It was nature's clean up; everything still standing fell from the water's force. Everything that had fallen was swept out to sea. That was why he was bleeding. He could feel it; at least three blood vessels had burst. One in his side, another in his forearm, and a third, dangerously close to his heart. And he was sure there were more that he couldn't feel.
His world had become a wasteland.
Drip, Drip, Drip
The blood dripped from his face and onto the cold, gray cement below. The drips of his wounds mixed with that of his eyes as they streaked his cheeks, stained his white uniform, stained the already ruined sidewalk. He wiped at his face fruitlessly. The blood wouldn't stop coming, and neither would the tears.
He walked until his body was numb from blood loss. He was dizzy, hungry, in pain. But what could he do but grit his teeth and put up with it? He would never tell Italy or Germany...they would worry too much. China was closest, but even if he tried, he'd never make it across the ocean. That was it. He was going to die.
He let his arm fall limply to his side, in favor of leaning heavily with his shoulder on the wall. He tried to walk again. He tried, tried, again and again, but each attempt was met with a bloody coughing fit. It was then that he realized he had punctured a lung. He fell onto his side. The building he was just leaning on rocked unsteadily in the wind.
I didn't think I would die like this, He mused, staring at the sun as it rose behind the building. but...at least I could say I lived well. He let his eyes flutter shut. He remembered Italy, who had taught him how to make pasta and how to let go. He remembered Germany, and his tough ways that hid a caring heart. He remembered China and Russia, America and England, France and Canada. Would they be alright? He let his eyes open again. Parting would seem so much more bittersweet if he had the time to think about. They stayed open, showing the teared, glazed brown eyes of a dying man, even as he watched the building topple towards him.
"Kiku! Kiku, where are you?"
"Guys, I'm worried. It's been hours!"
"Y-yeah...You don't think he could be...could he...?"
"He's a tough little git, this wouldn't do him in."
"I hope you're right...maybe we should-"
"EVERYONE! We found him!"
"Or at least what's left of hi-OW!"
"Quiet, you! Come on, take us to him! Is he okay?"
"I'm not sure, he's been buried in rubble!"
"Oh my God...Hold on, Kiku!"
The world around him was foggy as Japan's eyes slowly fluttered. He could make out beige walls, and a curtain around the white sheeted bed he was laying in. A television was mounted in the upper corner of the room, on but completely ignored. He could see bodies...three of them. One sitting to his right, one standing to his left, and the third in front of his bed, pacing. The sitting body was holding his hand gently, as if he would break, and very well still could. There was no rubble, no debris, no leveled landscapes anywhere. The scent of fresh torayaki and salted edamame, laced with the smell of flowers, was everywhere. No smells of dirt or ocean or dust or death. The television hummed, a gentle background noise, accompanied by the muffled sobs of concern and the soft words of reassurance. No screaming prayers to the heavens, no collapsing buildings, no ripping waves. There was peace instead of destruction.
Japan almost laughed. Heaven is a quiet place... he thought. He let his eyes creep open, and was met with the sight of one Wang Yao, one Arthur Kirkland, and one Ludwig Beilschmidt. "Ah...Did I bring you three to heaven with me?" He said softly, voice scratchy from disuse.
All three heads whipped in his direction; their expressions all matched that of shock.
"You all look as if you've seen a ghost..." He said, smiling softly. Before he knew it, England and China were hugging him as tightly as they dared, and Germany had dashed to the waiting room to break the news of Japan's awakening.
"Kiku! Aiya, we were so worried about you, aru!" China blubbered, crying tears of relief and happiness.
England was breathing a big sigh of relief. "You gave us quite a bloody scare! I swear, I lost another ten years of my life..." The green eyed man complained halfheartedly. He didn't care if the ordeal had made him grow gray hair, he just cared that Japan was awake.
Finally taking in his surroundings and realizing that he was in a hospital and not Heaven, he did a mental 180. "But how did I-"
"KIKUUUUUU~!" And the room was flooded with Japan's fellow countries, until the room was almost uncomfortable to stand in. They were all carrying some kind of bouquet, some kind of balloon, some kind of get well wish. Japan noticed that the hospital bed next to him was already filled with similar gifts. The black haired man simply blinked as he was bombarded with questions and comments. He gave Germany the best pair of "help me" eyes he could mister, and the blonde nodded.
"Everyone, calm down!" The crowd instantly shut up. "Thank you! Now let's answer his questions before we start asking out own!" He nodded at Japan, who nodded back gratefully.
"First, where am I?"
China raised his hand. "You're in Beijing. We're dealing with your medical care here, aru."
Japan nodded as respectfully as he could manage. "Thank you, China. But with my current state, I'm not sure if I would be able to afford-"
"Aww, don't worry about the cash," America said, giving a grin and a thumbs up, "it's all on me~!"
Japan blinked. "Are you sure, Alfred?"
"Sure I'm sure! What kind of hero would I be if I didn't help you out? I even sent relief efforts in already! Ludwig and Feli, too!"
"Oh?" Japan looked at his two allies. Italy smiled brightly, while Germany blushed and looked away. He smiled softly. "Well...thank you, all of you. But I do have one more question..."
"And what would that be?" England questioned from his side.
"How long was I outcold...?"
The room was silent.
The nations looked between each other, urging for someone to give an answer. But how would Japan feel if he knew he was unconscious for an entire six months?
Finally, Russia laughed. "Let's just say, long enough for us to have to replace your flowers several times." Russia looked at the rest of the room. "Too mich excitement wouldn't be good for him, da? Go, let him rest." He shooed the rest of the occupants out of the room, ignoring England's wild protests and China's attempts to sneak back in. Finally confident that the other nations had left the room, he shut the door and sighed. "They're excited. You've kept us waiting for quite a while, Kiku."
Russia waved off the apology. "No need, it wasn't your fault." He replied nonchalantly, taking a place beside the bed, where England had been.
Japan fidgeted. But...how long was I asleep?"
"Ah, I wasn't supposed to tell you, but about six months. A long time to leave us all worrying, da?"
Russia dug through his pocket, continuing as if Japan hadn't spoken. He pulled out a black box and gave it to Japan. "I never was a superstitious man, but England and Poland insist that these things work...so it's worth a try, da? We all pitched in for it." When Japan opened his mouth to thank him, Russia simply shook his head and smiled. "You should rest. We'll be back to check on you later, alright?" Realizing that Russia wasn't expecting words, he just nodded. Russia nodded back and left the room silently. Immediately, Japan heard the tall man get harassed for forcing everyone out. The thought made him smile a bit.
And there the box was. A plain, black velvet rectangle. What could it be? And why would both England and Poland want him to have it? He lifted the lid cautiously and pulled out its' contents.
A charm bracelet.
A bracelet of lovely silver, with thin rings and short charms for every ring. Japan fingered it lightly. Smooth, shiny, reflective, beautiful. He turned his attention to the charms. One, he saw, was a cheeseburger. America's charm, no doubt. Right next to it was a star. For England and his wand, perhaps? On the third ring, there was a rose. Pretty, and definately from France. Next was a miniature Hello Kitty. Unquestionably China's charm. A vodka bottle followed it. The charm from Russia himself. After that was a charm that bore a striking resemblance to Italy's curl. Next came a cross that looked suspiciously similar to that on Germany's necklace.
The last ring, the last charm...was a sword. He could vaguely make out an engraving on the blade of the mini sword.
Shake the box
Japan raised an eyebrow. He picked up the discarded box and shook it lightly.
Out fluttered a folded piece of paper.
Slowly he unfolded it, and took time to read it all. He was distantly grateful that his tears were no longer bloodstained.
~We're there for ya, dude!
~No bloody pushing yourself until you're well again!
~Ti vogliamo bene, Kiku!
~Bleiben Sie stark für uns!
Мы здесь, если вы нуждаетесь в нас!
~Vous pouvez compter sur nous!
"China...where are you hiding?" He asked, not looking up from the paper. As if on cue, China dropped down from the ceiling, landing perfectly on his feet.
He smiled. "Do you like it?"
"I'm glad. Russia will be happy to hear that, aru. he acts like such a big bad tough guy, but he's kind. The bracelet was his idea."
Japan kept his head down, even though he knew China had already seen the snail trails left behind. He folded the paper neatly and slipped it onto the stand beside the bed. He slipped the bracelet onto his wrist. Japan looked between them and smiled.
What held more value: pure silver, or loving words of faith?
A/N- alright, ending translations! English- well, it's obvious. XD Italian- We love you, Kiku German- stay strong for us Chinese- Good luck, aru Russian- We're here if you ever need us French- You can count on us
Alright, this was, of course, written for the earthquake and tsunami. I feel terrible about it... I can'c completely relate, since I don't know anyone from japan, but i know that people are hurting, and that's all I need to know to be concerned. I found this group on facebook called Prayers for prosperity. please go join it and show that you'll keep japan in your thoughts. and as always, please review.