Kiku rose from his chair to go comfort the American, who had most likely gone to the bathroom to last out her panic attack, but he took a look around the room – every nation had a look of confusion riddled on their face, only Canada and England had shown the first signs of worry. Japan started towards the door.

"Japan, what-"

"You know," the Japanese man began with a deep breath. He could feel the unusual anger rise inside of him. How could they really not know how bad America had gotten? How could they really be so blind to the person they saw in front of them? How could they be fooled by mask that America had put up like a safety net to protect herself with? "It is funny to see how truly blind you all are."

With that, Kiku left the room to search for a rouge Amelia, who – he found – had hid herself away in a spare broom closet. Amelia was curled up impossibly tight in the corner, an occasional sob or whimper leaving her form. Kiku kneeled down to the young nation, who had her knees to her chest and her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. He could hear her quick, shallow breaths and he could see her violent trembling.

"America-san," Japan said gently, reaching cautiously to touch her shoulder.

A sob left the younger nation, followed by a small sniffle.

"You need to breath."

Japan grabbed her by the shoulders more firmly and she jerked away from him, giving off another whimper.

"Please, America-san, I am here to help you."

Slowly, Amelia raised her head to look at the Asian nation. Her pupils were dilated, leaving a blue rim for irises and her face was riddled with sweat.

"I-it h-h-hurts," she managed, gripping at her chest. A few tear trickled down her cheeks and disappeared under her collar.

Kiku nodded in understanding – the panicked nation couldn't breathe, not an uncommon symptom of a panic attack.

"Breath," he instructed as her breathing picked up. He took a deep breath and released it to demonstrate. America looked at him and began to slowly follow his instructions. Together, the two took slow, deep breaths in, and exhaled the same way.

Kiku brushed away a strand of curly blonde that had fallen over the girls face as her breathing returned to normal and the sky in her eyes returned. Japan felt a small smile tug on his face as he helped the young nation up, "Let's get you home, America-san."

"N-no, Japan, I-I'll call someone to pick me up, y-you stay."

"You should not be alone."

A small smile graced her lips, a real smile for the first time that day. "I'll," she took a deep breath, as if trying to convince herself. "I'll be fine."

Japan looked closely at the stubborn girl – more like England than she knew - and saw that he wouldn't be able to do anymore. He gave a steep bow to the American, "Very well. Sayōnara."

"Goodbye." Japan began to walk away from America before being stopped once again, "And Kiku? Thank you."

"You are welcome."