/Warning: Contains personified countries, shounen-ai, torture, and other dark scenes./

/Disclaimer: Italy, Japan, America, Russia, and Germany belong to Hidekazu Himaruya./

~+/+/+/+/+/+~

The month was October, the weather turning chilly. Kiku had been captured by Russia, who had allied with America. Trapped in a dark concrete room, the Asian man was forced to make weapons for the two countries. One move either Russia or America didn't like, and he was beaten to unconsciousness. Sometimes, Ivan, who enjoyed seeing Japan in pain, would have him beat for the sake of watching. The factory where he was held captive was far, far away from society. Russian and American troops guarded the tall, dark building, keeping away anyone who tried to help Japan escape. All except one country: Italy.

-Flashback-

Japan knelt in the room where he slept. It was a small cell, cold and damp. No bed, no blanket, nothing. Just cement. Cement ceiling, cement floor, cement walls, and a barred metal door. But. In one wall, the one to the right of the door, there was a window. Small and square, metal bars shielding across it.

It was nighttime. Kiku was given five hours to rest, then it was back to work for him. He had been on this routine for almost two months now, and dreamed of nothing but escape. There was a problem though: Once he escaped, there was nowhere to go. The building was secluded, set in the middle of a vast plain. Did he know this? Of course. If nothing else would work, he planned to climb to the roof of the building, jump off, and fall to his death. Anything was better than this torture. Dreaming of the day when this could happen gave the island nation a sick, bittersweet feeling.

Staring out at the little of the outside world he could, he began to think about a way to escape. The bright moon shone down, collecting in rectangles of light on the cold floor.

"G-Giappone! Giappone!" A whisper-shout finally reached Kiku's ears, which weren't functioning as well as they used to, due to the many beatings he'd received. Nihon snapped back to reality, only faintly recalling hearing his name in the middle of his thinking process.

"H-Hai?" He spoke softly into the darkness, not knowing where the voice had come from. His voice was broken and scratchy; he was dehydrated and weak.

"K-Kiku, come here!" The voice came from the window. Standing on tiptoes, the Asian dug his fingers into the concrete sill of the window and pulled his upper body up. Stretching his neck as far as he could, he peered out and found himself face to face with a violently shaking Italy.

"F-Feli-kun!" Japan stumbled backward and fell on his behind, scraping his hands in the process.

"Oh Kiku, you look terrible…" Japan could tell his friend had begun crying. Trying his best to ignore this (because it saddened him), he stood once more and peered out the window, bloody fingers pushed between the bars.

"Italy! What are you… run! They will capture you too!" He whispered his panicked voice hoarse.

"N-no… Stay there… I will get you out Kiku, e-even if it kills me!" The redhead choked out, wiping his nose.

"I can't allow that—"

"They're coming! I'll save you, Giappone-!" And with that, Italy ran off, quick from Doitsu's training many years ago when the Axis alliance existed. Without a doubt, he'd be able to get away this time.

-End flashback- -

From that point forward, Italy had visited Japan every night for almost a month straight. He worked on melting and prying the window's bars off, at the same time keeping their appearance almost exactly the same so no suspicion would arise. Holding back tears, the dark haired man would have to watch his friend laboring for his sake, blistering and scraping his delicate hands to free him.

The first night they hadn't gotten much done in the amount of time they had. Japan had reached up with a brutally injured hand to assist the redhead, but Feli pushed it away with a scowl that was disguising worry, and began to lecture him on why he couldn't help him (the reason was because Kiku was hurt enough as it was). Before long, the night guards' footsteps could be heard, and Veneziano scurried away into the darkness.

But that was around 30 days ago. Now, the bars were disassembled, an escape plan was set, and when Italy appeared at the cell window, him and Japan were going to run away together.

~+/+/+/+/+/+~

The current time was some time in the early morning, when it was still dark out. Japan was wide awake and ready, and was only left to wait for Italy.

"Let's go." Feliciano's serious voice echoed through the cell. He pulled the metal bars out and placed them quietly on the grass. Reaching out a hand to help Japan through the window, he began to go through the escape plan. "We have five and a half minutes before the guards arrive."

Nihon's hands locked in Italia's, he placed his foot on the cell wall under the window and took a step up, his friend pulling him towards the outside world.

Once they got out, they stood and looked around. Japan was overcome by the sensation of being outside after nearly three months, putting him in a daze.

"Kiku! My shelter is over there, in the forest." Feliciano said pointing to a barely visible place in the forest resting on the horizon.

"Huh—Oh! Hai!" The Asian man became aware of his surroundings once again, his profile determined.

"Run." The Italian ordered. His hand found Japan's and suddenly Japan's vision became a blur as he was pulled along, unconsciously running. His mind was still partially numbed, but soon became aware of the searing pain stabbing throughout his whole body. Letting out a cry as he felt his right knee giving way under him, he fell on his hands and knees, Italy pulled to the ground as well; their hands were still entwined.

"K-Kiku! Kiku, what's wrong?" The redhead gasped, turning on his knees and peering at his friend's face. Pain was engraved in his expression; his teeth grit, eyebrows furrowed and upturned, eyes squeezed shut.

"A-all the beatings… I-I wasn't aware… I can't run…" He grunted with labored breathing.

"Crap… We've got to go… somehow… Here, get on my back—"

"Kuso! I-Italia, the guards…"

"W-wha?" Feliciano's head snapped up as he squinted into the dark distance. Sure enough, about 30 men were armed and running straight for the two of them.

"Sh*t…." Italy whispered. "What do we do…"

Japan grunted, pushing himself up until he was kneeling. Italy stood, grabbing his companion's wrist, pulling him up all the way as well. "….I…. We can't take them all, no way…" Japan spoke quietly.

"We can do our best." Italy took on a touch, battle-ready expression.

Japan stared at him for a moment, and then nodded. "Hai."

The two of them charged towards the line of guards as fast as Japan could run.

~+/+/+/+/+/+~

Only four men were either dead or unconscious; the two countries didn't really care either way. Kiku had become too injured to fight anymore, and was knocked to the ground with a shout.

"Giappo—aughh!" Feliciano took a blow to the chest and fell backwards, landing on his rear and was now back to back with the shorter man. One of them brutally injured and one had run out of stamina; it seemed as though the only choice for the two was surrender. If they did that, they would both be captured and tortured for who knows how long.

Then, somewhere in the back of Nihon's brain, he remembered his thoughts of suicide, jumping off the top of that torturous building. "Italia-kun… please… help me to the top of the building…" He mumbled, barely able to believe the plan rushing into his brain or the words he had just spoken.

"Why… O-okay…" The redhead stood, swiftly dodging a soldier's attacks and pushing guards out of the way to let the two of them through.

They reached the wall of the structure, the army quick behind them. Italy began scaling the side, using the indents between cement blocks and metal gutter holds as footholds and handholds. Although Japan had much difficulty climbing, Italy helped him and soon enough, they were standing on the roof of the building.

"W-what now…?" The Italian panted, bending over to catch his breath. When he got no reply from his partner, he looked to where he had seen the Asian stand. Japan was standing to Italy's left, his shoes touching the edge of the building.

Japan seemed to be in his own world, his dark eyes scanning the scenery around him. The sun had begun to rise, dripping watercolors of oranges, pinks, and purples onto the clouds floating by. The tall, dry plains grasses swayed in the growing breeze. It was almost peaceful.

Below, however, the American and Russian soldiers had begun to climb the building. The wind tossed Kiku's dark brown hair around his face as he turned to Feliciano. Sorrow and excitement filled his chocolate eyes. Taking a breath, he spoke: "Italia Veneziano."

By this time, Italy felt something wrong and began trembling. "Kiku, Kiku, what's the matter with you…" Cold tears began to fall from his eyes.

"Feliciano Vargas."

"Y-yes…?"

The Asian man walked over to the redhead peering over the edge as he walked. The guards were about halfway up the building now. He stopped in front of his friend, gazing directly into his shimmering copper eyes. "Ita-chan, I want you to let yourself get captured when the guards get here. Break free after they've let you down the building, and run to away like I've seen you do before. Get to safety—"

"But Kiku, what about you—"

"Just listen. I want you to run, run to a civilized place and be safe. Forget about me, and don't be sad. My spirit will follow yours forever, Italia."

"You're coming with me, Giappone!" The Italian shouted, tears flowing quicker as he realized the meaning behind Japan's words.

"I cannot. I am too weak, and therefore cannot withstand this torture any longer. By ending this life….. I am doing myself a favor. Please forgive my selfish act… and live your life once you get to safety."

"I can't—"

"You will." Japan stared at his friend with more sincerity than ever. After a moment, he put his bruised, bloody arms around Feliciano's neck, and kissed him. "Italia-kun…. Goodbye…. Sayonara." Tears filled his eyes, a tiny smile growing on his lips.

"I-I'll do what you said—come back someday—G-goodbye!" Italy shouted through sobs.

Kiku felt his heart racing. He walked over to an edge of the roof where Russian and American troops were not waiting below. He turned his back to the edge, facing Italy. Their eyes locked for a moment, Japan's sending messages such as "I love you", "goodbye", and "I'm sorry". Then, it was all over. Japan leaned backwards, letting all his muscles go limp and allowing himself to fall. His mind went blank. He could barely hear Italy's scream of terror.

The wind in his ears, he felt free, released from the captivity and torture he had withstood for the past three months. Old, nostalgic memories flashed through his mind. He opened his eyes and watched the pastel sky rush past him, almost as fast as his blood was rushing. His vision filled with the beautiful sky, his dark hair fluttering and framing the view. The strong wind pushing on him from every direction, he felt like a magnificent bird, an angel.

This all passed in seconds.

Closing his eyes, he saw the sunrise, a bright light.

Then all went black.

~+/+/+/+/+/+~

The month was October, the weather turning chilly. Italy had escaped the mobbing Russian and American guards nearly 25 years ago. He had run to safety just as Kiku had instructed him to, and followed his orders. Except one: Italy would NEVER forget Japan and still awaited his return.

The Italian walked out of his apartment and onto the streets of Italy. Suddenly, he ran into Germany, who was sweating and quite out of breath.

"D-Doitsu! What are you doing here? What's wrong?" The redhead asked, frowning. He was oddly alarmed when Germany looked up, smiling.

"Italy! Italy, Japan's back!" He laughed.

Feliciano's brow furrowed. It sounded strange to hear the name "Japan" after it echoed in his brain everyday while it was disappearing from the rest of the world. "What… do you mean…?" He asked slowly, confused.

"Japan was fused with Russia, remember? After Asia has been fighting him for almost 25 years… Japan's been reclaimed by Asia and reborn as a country again, you understand?"

It seemed to take Veneziano a few moments to process this. "…No… That's not possible….. Lud, you have to take me to him to prove it!" He pulled the blonde's arm, heart racing.

"Of course!" Germany grinned, gaining an expression similar to one his brother would wear.

~+/+/+/+/+/+~

The Italian and German ran up to the location of Japan's house, which had been empty for a little longer than 25 years. Not now though.

Italy and Germany's eyes widened at the sight of their old friend kneeling on his front porch, drinking tea, most likely trying to get used to the feeling of being a country once more. They both raced to greet him as fast as they could.

"Nihon! You're… okay!" Germany wiped away a tear quickly. He stood to Japan's left now, Italy directly in front of Japan.

"Hai. Thank you for thinking of me…" Japan gave his old commander a slight nod. Hearing a sniffle, his sight moved to the nation in front of him. The redhead, who had been struggling to hold back tears, immediately began to sob.

"G-Giappone!" He threw his arms around the smaller man, knocking him onto his back and causing him to drop the tea cup and spill the hot liquid onto the wooden porch.

Germany, at that point, sensed the atmosphere and left them alone, unknown to the two entangled countries.

Italy's arms were wrapped tightly around Japan's neck, their upper bodies pressed together and Italy's two legs crowding Japan's right.

"I-I-I-Italia-kun…!" He blushed furiously, but did nothing to thwart the affection.

"Oh Kiku… I never forgot you… I've waited for you!" Hot tears ran down Italy's bright red cheeks, spilling onto Japan's face, neck, and yukata. The dark haired man could feel Feli's warm breath on his own face, considering their faces were inches apart.

"Feliciano…." Japan's eyes began to grow misty until he, too, was crying.

"Y-you're okay…" The pasta lover sniffled, his voice extremely shaky."I'm so h-happy to see y-you, Giappone…!" Veneziano began to shower his friend with love, beginning by placing his mouth directly over Japan's. He continued to shower him with love, kissing his forehead, cheeks, nose, and down his neck, until the island nation became aware of the feeling of Italy's chin tugging his yukata down his chest.

"T-that's quite enough Italia…!" Nihon stammered loudly, blushing even hotter.

"I could never forget you Kiku, even if I tried…" Italy laid his head on Japan's chest, hugging him close. The two of them began to grow tired, a relaxing breeze passing over them. Soon, they drifted into slumber, bodies intertwined.