Prologue

April 10th, 1951

It was huge. It was glorious. Seagulls cried above, circling the sun. Nothing he had ever seen could have prepared him for this. Such vastness was surely created by the gods themselves.

It was unfortunate he would have to board it under these circumstances…

Japan craned his head back to get a better view of the massive ship bobbing in the water. Sunlight gleamed off its bow, dancing across the water. Its emblazoned name, H.M.S. Titanic, fit it well. He would have been pleasantly surprised, maybe even enjoyed the prospect of the ship carrying him across the sea. But the thought of the destination would always be in the back of his mind.

"Hey! Kiku!"

He reluctantly turned to face America, who was walking rapidly toward him with a wide smile. Next to him was Germany, wearing a characteristically stern expression.

"Mr. Honda," he said firmly, hoisting the suitcases he carried up a bit higher, "The ship will leave within minutes."

Japan stared at him emotionlessly, secretly displeased with the usage of his true name. Germany fidgeted at the piercing gaze. America seemed oblivious to the sudden tension.

"Kiku!" he said loud enough for the crowd a few feet away to hear, and he didn't even seem to notice the wince Japan gave, "Come on! We don't want to be late! You know how England is! Old man can't handle the idea of late, or "tardy"! Haha!"

America laughed and slapped the silent nation on the back. He ruffled his hair affectionately and ran up the gangplank to the ship, causing many people to give him withering looks.

Japan slowly relaxed the jaw he had been clenching, watching Germany pass by. The tall blonde frowned at him, and leaned forward.

"Mr. Honda, do not make Mr. America upset or angry in any way. Do not do anything you will regret."

Japan's eyes flashed. Before he could speak, Germany swiftly added, "Remember what has transpired to make this possible."

With that, he readjusted the bags and tramped up the walk. Japan looked back at the cobblestones of dry land and gazed out unseeingly at the little houses of the harbor city. There was a strange feeling in his chest, heart taut. His throat felt constricting tight. He sighed and dismissed the emotion, and turned to board.

This is what happened when he had lost. When you lost, you gave in.

And the first thing you lost was the recognition of your nationality.