I wanted to do more Kitsune!Kiku, because he's adorable.

I totally own Hetalia. That's why I'm writing fanfics about it instead of working on season six.

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When they first met, he hated him.

He hated the boy standing in the midst of a bamboo forest with too-clever eyes and cocky insults. But then Japan smiled, just slightly, so unsure, and China couldn't just leave him, could he?

So he brought the boy home with him and made him into the first of many younger siblings who he'd raise and care for.

(Vietnam, while older, hadn't really wanted to be 'raised', so she didn't count.)

But Japan was special. Precious, beautiful Japan who he loved more than any of the others, if only because he was first.

When China suggested Japan give himself a name, the child, who still looked to be only four or five, though he was far older, chose Kiku. Honda Kiku, and even though it hurt that his brother didn't want the same family name as him, it fit, and Kiku was his little chrysanthemum from that moment on.

Kiku, as it turned out, was far more special than he'd let on at first.

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"Please don't tell! Please, please, Yao-ge, don't tell!"

Yao couldn't answer. He was still staring in shock at the orangey ears and matching tail, spoiling the human look Kiku had shown up until that point. "Kiku-di… what…?"

The tail thrashed back and forth in agitation. "I-I-I- Y-you- It's-" Kiku blinked rapidly. "You can't tell anyone! Please!"

"I won't tell a soul~aru," Yao assured him. "Not even Shinatty-chan, I promise!" He stepped forward, gently touching the ears. They flicked back and forth, startled. "Just… tell me what's going on? Please~aru?"

"I-I'm a kitsune," Kiku murmured uncertainly. "A fox spirit."

"So you're even less human than most personifications…" Yao mused. "Oh- not that there's anything wrong with that~aru!" he added when Kiku flinched away slightly. "I think it's really good! After all, you'll be able to understand your mythical creatures better~aru."

Breaking into their conversation, a loud crack sounded from among the trees. They both jumped and spun. Yao laughed, turning back. "Just a branch- Kiku-di?"

Where his brother had stood, there now stood a small fox cub, flame-orange tail bristling in surprise. "Kiku-di? Is that… you?"

The cub turned to face him, letting out a soft bark. Then it blinked, stepped back, dropped to its belly and hid its nose beneath its paws. It whined softly. Yao chuckled. "Embarrassed~aru?"

The fox glanced up at him. Then suddenly it was Kiku again, sitting on the ground with cheeks stained red in embarrassment. "I didn't mean to do that…"

"I thought it was cute~aru."

Kiku smiled.

That night, a fox cub settled beside Yao in bed, nuzzling under his arm and curling up against his warm chest.

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A day, a month, a year, a decade, a century.

Time passed quickly, and Yao and Kiku soon grew used to their new lifestyle.

It became quite normal for Yao to wake up with a fox beside him. The two of them adjusted to the painful week every century or so when another tail would take form and Kiku would lie in Yao's bed whimpering, not even uncurling himself long enough to eat. Those times were hard on both of them; but Kiku's fur grew paler, ever so slightly, each time, and Yao knew the myths: when he got to nine tails, his fur would turn golden like the sunrise.

One day, soon after Kiku's three hundred and thirteenth birthday, they went to bed with Yao's arm curled over the three tailed fox's back. When he woke up, for the very first time it was the human, not the animal, who slept beside him.

And Yao smiled, wrapping one arm over his baby brother's back and cooing softly as the younger nuzzled deeper into his side.

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Time passed. Yao and Kiku were as close as brothers could be, and they were happy.

Then one day Yao started finding more nations.

Two little Korean boys, a beautiful girl named Taiwan and another boy who introduced himself as Hong Kong moved in, and at first Kiku smiled and treated them like family; while Yao taught them to help their nations, Kiku taught them to defend their homelands, to fight back against any who would harm them.

But the four of them were so young, Yao soon began spending more and more time with them, and less and less with Kiku. After all, Japan was old enough to care for himself. He didn't need someone to hold his hand.

Maybe not. But that didn't mean he liked it.

"Yao-ge, you said we could go hunting today."

"Oh! I'm sorry, Kiku-di~aru! It completely slipped my mind, and I promised Yong Soo and Hyung Soo that I'd teach them kanji… Tomorrow, okay~aru?"

Kiku's sweet smile faltered. "Of… course, Yao-ge. Tomorrow."

It was the last time for many centuries that he saw Kiku truly smiling.

And the next day he forgot again.

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More years passed. And sometimes Yao wondered why he never woke with a boy—a young man now, with the appearance of seventeen or eighteen year old—curled up beside him anymore. But he assumed Kiku had simply grown too old for it.

That was his mistake.

One day the six of them were eating dinner, and Yong Soo was teasing the others, as he often did.

"I'm Aniki's favourite, I'm Aniki's favourite!" he sang the way children did, not really meaning it, just trying to get a reaction.

Well, he got one.

Yao wasn't sure what Kiku said; it was murmured in soft Korean, a language the elder nation had never gotten around to learning. But whatever it was, it was bad enough to send both Koreas flying from the room, Yong Soo in tears and Hyung Soo shooting a glare over his shoulder at their elder brother. Kiku had a strange look on his face, half upset and half… pleased?

Yao stood. "Honda Kiku, you apologize right now~aru!"

Kiku stood as well. There was a fractured look in his eyes, and as Yao watched, a faint hint of red seeped in until they looked like drying blood. His voice, when he spoke, was cold and angry and… slightly hurt. "My… apologies, Chuugoku-san."

Yao looked into his brother's eyes then, and he realized something. He didn't recognize him. Kiku wasn't Kiku anymore. He had become someone else, and it was far too late to stop it. The beautiful kitsune he loved so dearly was gone, locked away inside the body that was him but wasn't.

Kiku's- No. Japan's eyes narrowed when Yao didn't answer. He stormed away from the table and left the house, slamming the door behind him with an echoing bang like gunshot. Mei and Xiao flinched at the noise. Yao simply stared in shock at the place where the brother he'd now lost—no, not now, a long time ago, but he'd only now noticed—had sat.

The Taiwanese girl grabbed his sleeve. "I-Is Kiku-nii coming back?"

"I hope so~aru. I hope so."

Japan did come back that night. But when he did and Yao stood before him, accepting and loving and just wanting things to go back to the way they were, he attacked. He tore apart everything the two of them had had and left, with nothing more than a painful scar and a murmured "Forgive me" to remember him by.

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China did his best. He raised his remaining siblings well, and never told them what had happened that night, though he knew that they already knew. But then England took Xiao and Japan took the others and China was alone.

They came back eventually, but that didn't help.

He didn't see Japan during the First World War; he stayed with America, avoiding his own land, knowing his erstwhile brother was there. And when the war was over and Germany was there, there were a couple questions that left him muttering about demons; a proud young warrior, America's brother, who fought him back, determined and terrifyingly vicious, the boogeyman of the War. And another in the Far East. A devil with blood-coloured eyes and a mad smile and a bloodstained sword who attacked and cut him down with merciless abandon.

And Yao's heart was breaking, because he knew, and how could the West drag his baby brother into this?

He knew how. This wasn't his Kiku, who curled up beside him in the form of a fox; this was a cold, cruel, emotionless monster.

But he didn't care. And he wrote letter after letter, but there was never an answer.

Never a single word.

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The war ended and for a while there was peace.

Then World War II started up. And this time Japan sided with Germany, despite fighting him so hard in the last war.

The fighting began again. And the Allies fought.

And after so many years of bloodshed, Italy and Germany surrendered. But Japan kept going, even with all the odds stacked against him, even knowing, as he must have, that he didn't stand a chance alone against all the Allies at once. And they all knew it would take something drastic to end it.

So eventually they managed to capture him and drag him back to their base, and kept him under constant watch in one of their handful of cells, and thought.

It was America who suggested the atomic bomb. He thought that with the threat of such a powerful weapon, surely Japan would surrender. So they all went down to the cell and America delivered his ultimatum.

Japan laughed, soft and jagged. And desperate, too, because he knew just as well as the others did that he was going to lose now. But he still laughed, and decided America was bluffing.

Well, what other choice did he have? He couldn't not do it; if he didn't no one would take his threats seriously again. So he dropped the bomb.

And Japan screamed.

None of them had ever heard Japan scream before, but now they did, and it was the most agonized sound they'd ever heard. His deep brown eyes clenched shut and he wailed until he had no air left. Tears dripped down his cheeks and blood slid down his back and pooled on the floor. He took deep, shuddering breaths and fought to regain control of his damaged, shaking body.

America knelt before the chair he was tied to with heartbreak in his blue eyes, because he didn't want this either. "Do you surrender, Japan?"

Japan forced his eyes open and glared at America, even through the tears. "I'd rather die," he hissed.

"Okay. Okay. I'm… sorry, Japan." And the second bomb fell.

This time he only let out a soft, uncontrollable keen, as though he didn't even have the strength to cry out. He lowered his head, allowing his raven hair to conceal his face, and went completely still apart from the tremors that racked his body. America put a finger under his chin and forced his eyes up.

"The next one falls on Tokyo. Please… Please, don't make me do this."

For a second, there was no answer. Then Japan took a shaky breath. "Fine," he murmured, his voice cracking. "Fine. You win."

America nodded. "China-"

He was moving before the younger nation finished, dropping to the floor beside Japan. "Out, all of you~aru."

They left; you didn't argue with a doctor, especially not China. His fingers quickly slid through the bloodied ropes and untied the knots, catching Japan as he slid forward. "Shh," he murmured. "It's okay~aru. You're going to be okay."

Gently, he took off Japan's uniform jacket and the grey shirt underneath, pulling out the massive stock of medical supplies he'd stashed in the cell when it became clear Japan was caught. He quickly cleaned the two wounds and bandaged them, wiping away the blood and tears and just… holding Japan close. "It's over now~aru…"

"Ch-China-nii?"

Yao glanced down at the younger nation. There was something about him now… His spirit had been broken completely, and there was no way to tell if it would ever heal, but now… This wasn't the demon that Germany had feared, or the monster that had torn apart a family; this was Kiku, the kind young man Yao had thought gone forever.

He smiled. "Yes, Kiku-di?"

Kiku smiled back, uncertain, nervous. One hand reached up to hesitantly trace the scar along China's back. "We… match now, don't we?"

"I suppose we do~aru."

"Yao-ge?"

"Yes~aru?"

"…Aishiteru."

Kiku's eyes flickered shut and suddenly a fox lay curled up on his lap; a delicate nine-tailed fox with fur like white gold. It licked the back of China's hand and fell asleep.

And Yao smiled, because no matter what, Kiku was here and Kiku was his. And that would survive any amount of war.

"Wo ai ni~aru."

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Kiku, why are you so adorable? Even when you're the villain…

It's a headcanon of mine that China taught the younger Asian nations the more political aspect of being a country, while Japan dealt with the martial side. It just makes sense, thinking about it.

Also, interesting fact: the Japanese word for China, Chuugoku. In Japanese, Kiku would most likely refer to China as Chuugoku-nii, which could also be shortened to Chuu-nii.

CHUNI CONFIRMED!

I'll leave you to ponder that.

See ya~!

-Bird