I do not own Hetalia Axis Powers.

July 1940

Being lost sucks. Especially without my handy map, thought America, lifting a dripping pant leg from knee-deep water. The boisterous nation was in Indochina, wading through a flooded field of rice that he couldn't even eat. Turns out trying a shortcut was not the best idea.

The water made it too hard to move, so America lurched to a halt, shaded his eyes, and looked around. Lush terraces were stacked above and below him in a vibrant green. Hundreds of rice stalks swayed below a puffy-cloud sky. He didn't gain a sense of where the hell he was, but it struck America that he was in one of the most beautiful places he had ever seen.

While gazing at the landscape, he soon heard a gentle swish of water behind him and turned. Something close to cardiac arrest seized him at the sight of a teenage girl.

"Hiya," was the only thing America could think to say, smiling a little stupidly.

The girl lifted the brim of her conical hat and showed little emotion while glancing him over, except for a touch of wariness in her dark-honey eyes. "I saw you from up there," she said at last in slightly accented English, pointing up to the rice terraces above them. A hesitation. "Do you need help? I can take you to my house; it's not far."

This girl was not helping the fact that the blazing sun reddened the America's face, yet he didn't mind one bit. "That'd be great!" the young country said. "I'm just a little lost. I wouldn't mind a bite to eat."

"I'm sure I can get something," the Asian girl nodded. "Follow me, please."

As she turned and began the walk to her house, it quickly became obvious that this mysterious girl was no conversationalist. America did not mind, however, and the forbidding silence motivated him all the more to break it.

"I'm Alfred, by the way," he declared, believing the girl human and therefore using his alternate title. "Alfred F. Jones. What's your name?"

"Kim. Kim will be fine," she replied almost distantly.

"Kim," Alfred echoed, testing it out. "Well, Kim, it's a real gorgeous place here."

"Yes, I agree."

"I think I squashed a few rice plants. Hope you don't mind!"

She briefly cast her eyes over the crops he stepped on. "Don't worry about it. They're only slightly flattened."

"You sure about that?"

"Of course," Kim replied and, for the first time, Alfred saw her smile slightly. "They're more resilient than they look."

Once at her home, Kim got Alfred a dry pair of pants and a delicious bowl of noodles. Meanwhile, he managed to get her chatting about the country. Her voice became steady and fond when she talked about Vietnam and her humble yet filling life as a farmer. Her obvious patriotic love made Alfred homesick, so he told her about himself, telling her that he was visiting from the States to meet with a friend and leaving out the fact that he was a country himself.

At this point, America deemed Kim as just a human. A human he liked a lot. Kim, who worked constantly on the fields, enjoyed the break and his company, too. Which is why they became quiet upon noticing the darkening sky.

"Think I better get going while there's light. Thanks for telling me where my hotel is," Alfred said.

"No problem."

Say it, Al. You gotta say it. "I – um – had a good time, but…these next days will be busy, and I'll be back in the States soon," he added regretfully. "I probably can't visit again."

"That's all right," Kim said quickly, to Jones's surprise. "Everyone's busy in this day and age, it seems."

"Haha! Yup!" False cheer. Rising from his chair, Alfred walked to the front door. Country and human relationships never worked out. Thus the claim that he couldn't come back. As much as Alfred liked her, he really didn't want to hurt Kim.

And so he opened the door to a warm night and millions of stars in the sky. It's so unfair.

"G'night Kim."

"You too, Alfred."

In his hotel room, America couldn't stop thinking about the flawless day. Or that modest smile, or that jet-black hair. He couldn't stop thinking about Kim's strong patriotic love. A love like that he had only seen in another…

It hit him like a home run. "She's another country!" A fist was thrown up from his covers. "Kim, I'm gonna see you tomorrow!"

The next morning

Vietnam (or as we've called her, Kim), did not expect to open the door and see the American on her doorstep.

"Kim!" he greeted, grinning widely.

"Al-Alfred?" Heat invaded her cheeks, remembering the previous night's gloom she had when he left, thinking that they'd never see each other again. "What are you doing here?"

"I gotta ask you something," Alfred announced. He paused dramatically. "You're not just a typical civilian, aren't you?"

Kim flinched in surprise and stared at him. "You're the same as me?" she exclaimed incredulously.

"Haaaaaa, I was right!" He ran in and bear-hugged her. "Vietnam – you are Vietnam, right?"—she nodded—"I'm the United States of America!"

"You? The United States?" Vietnam managed to squeak under his tight grip.

He laughed and released her. "America is fine. Pretty close to Alfred, right?"

"I…" She absorbed the news. "I can't believe I thought you were human!"

America chortled. "You pulled off a nice façade, but I shoulda guessed earlier."

"How did you know?"

"Well, your patriotism was the big hint. This house, too – it's nicer than some of the others. Plus," he added with a wink, "It just wouldn't be fair if you were human."

He didn't mean it that way, Vietnam denied, looking away. Surely not. "Well…it's amazing to meet such an acclaimed nation."

"Aw, shucks! You realize I'm a country and everything gets so serious, all of a sudden!" the global power laughed.

Vietnam looked him in the eyes, which were as blue as the sky outside. "Well, it's a serious time for us nations, isn't it?"

America sobered as well. "…Yeah. Things are getting really crazy." He rubbed the back of his neck, hesitating. "So we've been trading partners for a while…you're owned by France, right?"

She tensed slightly. "Yes. That's right."

"Have you seen him around recently? I've heard he likes to be called Vichy now."

The young woman stared down at her wrist and sighed. "I am afraid I have…"

A month earlier

Twin baskets of produce swung gently on the ends of Vietnam's sturdy bamboo pole. Walking down a dirt path, she held the pole at her shoulder, gaze starting to wander up to the summer sky…

"Bonjour, ma gemme."

The Asian girl jolted, causing the baskets to rock dangerously. "France!" she breathed, once regaining balance. Vietnam faced the taller country and bowed as best as she could with the load. "I welcome you back." Normally, the statement was intoned as a lie. But for once, she was truly concerned for him. "I heard of your loss in Europe," Vietnam confessed once she straightened. "How are you faring? Would you like a rest at my…"

Then she noticed his eyes.

"…house?"

They were much darker than Vietnam remembered – nearly purple. Fear drove through her like a stake.

"How rude of me, madam. I don't believe I've properly introduced myself." He took his colony's hand and planted a kiss on it. Typical France…yet something felt so sinister. "I am État Français: Vichy France. I am here to let you know of a few changes going on around here, and then I shall be off.

"I rule you now – and I support the Axis Powers." Vietnam's eyes widened. France and the Axis? "You may have to work much harder, gemme, for Japan desires your resources as well. That is all I must say."

He started to walk away when words foolishly poured out of Vietnam's mouth.

"Another leech? Is that what you're saying?" she protested. "Even with this 'Vichy' nonsense, you're still France to me. You already bleed me dry! Casse-toi," she spat.

Vichy's gloved hand lashed out and tightly grabbed her wrist. Fruit tumbled out of the baskets. He smirked.

"Écoutez-moi, you little bitch: I may have different values and ideals than before, but you still must obey your Papa."

Vietnam swallowed thickly and seared him with a hateful gaze. Even this man who claimed they just met – Vichy – had complete power over her. Just like everyone else. He released her and once again strolled off, satisfied.

Vietnam didn't tell him all the details, of course. But the American still looked shocked.

She loosened the hands that she had fisted while telling him the ordeal and discovered that her nails had dug indents into her palms. Staring at the crescent-shaped marks, the girl sighed, "Since the depression, France has been working me harder than ever. If Japan is added to the equation, or invades me…I'm just not sure what to do."

America's demeanor – big-eyed and sympathetic – swiftly changed as his jaw tightened and his gaze became steel. "France has ruled you for far too long," he declared, pounding the table and vibrating everything on it. "As a country of freedom, I will help you, Vietnam! When this war is over and done with, Indochina is gonna be independent!"

"What?"

"Once you're free– oh boy, it'll be great. Only you make the decisions, and you can make your government however you like. Trust me, I've been ruled once, too. Freedom's beautiful. I know you'll just love it. Don't worry, Vietnam," the blond-haired country insisted, flashing a grin. "I'll do the hero work."

"Just what are you planning to do, exactly?" Vietnam asked, numbly shocked that this incredibly powerful nation was focusing in on someone as "insignificant" as her. "You're not even in the war."

"Oh, that. That won't matter. I'll do what I do best: talk to people! I meeting with Vichy soon, but I don't think I can bring this up to him today, though. Not something especially friendly to suggest, right?" he chuckled.

Vietnam didn't realize she was smiling at him until her face fell at those words. "That's who you're meeting with? 'Your friend' Vichy?"

"Well, we're not buddies, but…I gotta stay friendly, you know?"

"No. No you don't." Vietnam shook her head, black locks swinging furiously back and forth. "You're a country of freedom, and you support the Allies. How could you ever like that Axis-loving tyrant?"

"Hey…hey, it's not like that! Being friends mean that he'll be more open to what I want. Otherwise, Germany or Japan can end up owning you! And I definitely don't want another person on my bad side."

The colony stood up abruptly.

"Kim? You understand, don't you?"

"Please call me Vietnam. And I must get to work," she replied instead. "I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay here." Grabbing her straw hat and bamboo paddle, Vietnam promptly left the house. It wasn't long, back in the rice fields, when she heard his splashing footsteps.

"Wait…Vietnam…why'd you leave? What's the matter? You can't be upset about me and France! I have to play friendly. There is a war going on out there, you kn—"

At those words, a nerve snapped, and Vietnam's paddle seemed to act on its own accord. With a great WHACK, she struck him down, hard. "Don't you dare act as if I don't know about the war," snarled the angry girl, gripping her paddle with white knuckles and circling his fallen form like a tiger. "I'm being bled dry because of the war. I could be invaded because of the war!"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry! Just calm down! I can ask France to free you. I really want to help!"

"So what? So we can trade more? All you powerful nations just think for themselves. I was a fool to think you'd be any different."

America turned to stare her in the eye, pouting childishly. "That's not true," he stubbornly stated. Vietnam swiftly raised her paddle, he flinched – but she only pushed the small of his back to lift him to his feet.

He looked at her with a mix of shock and…admiration? Whatever, Vietnam dismissed. Placing the paddle's edge under his chin, she smoothly ordered, "Get out. Go. Hurry to that stupid meeting with Vichy. You're a fool if you think you can ask that lecher to free me." The weapon lowered. "Go."

America had the guts to linger a moment longer. "Vietnam…"

"Didn't you hear me? Get out of my sight!"

Running his fingers through his hair, America sighed, though not sadly. "Kay. I'm leaving."

"Good."

"Just for you," he added slyly, turning on his heel as Vietnam whipped out her paddle again. Alfred laughed and called back, "I'll still be your hero!" And he ran off.

Vietnam rolled her eyes and blew her black bangs out of her face. "World powers."

Historical Notes:

In this year, America was doing the best he could to steer clear of the conflict waging across the globe, despite his support for the Allies. Vietnam, meanwhile, was an agricultural colony, her fate uncertain in the growing war. (She had a rather unfortunate youth, too...she was ruled by China, rebelled, then got taken over by France rather in the 1850s rather sneakily).

At this time in history, America and Vietnam only interacted through trade, thanks to her plentiful resources. President Roosevelt wanted Vietnamese independence, but had to appease to Vichy. Who is Vichy, you may ask? In late June 1940, when France epic-failed against Germany, and a new government called Vichy France rose after Gaullic France fell. It's portrayed here, admittedly confusingly, with the concept of multiple personality disorder; at this point, France's dominant personality is Vichy. As mentioned, America recognized and set diplomatic relations with Vichy, though he really didn't like either France in the first place.

Other notes

Totally not historical, but: in my opinion, Vietnam has the best conical hats, and this is coming from a Chinese person. They're very symmetrical and awesome-looking.

"You're the same as me?"...In Hetalia's manga/webcomic, the countries never flat-out ask "you're a country?" Rather, "you're the same as me?" (or something along those lines) seems to be a strong enough implication of what they really mean.

Somewhere I saw Vietnam referred to as the "jewel" of the French Empire, and gemme means 'gem,' and also sounds very sexy. Other uses of French in this chapter: Casse-toi (Fuck off) and Écoutez-moi (Listen). Please note that I rely on Google for my translations; don't hesitate to correct me.

It was tricky to characterize Vietnam, as Hetalia portrays her as quite the tsundere when (according to my Google search) the Vietnamese are actually quite hospitable, which I showed when she invited Alfred to her house. Perhaps the way she attacked America was whiplash and a little historically-off, as Vietnamese opinion of Americans was very positive at that time. Take it as some war-time angst, I guess. Well, I think I covered all the historical things. Dang this is long. And I want this after every chapter? Can never take the easy way, I guess. If your eyes aren't glazing over, please read author's note. ;D

A/N:

Oh gosh, a serial fic…how daunting.

I actually wanted to do a one-shot of the Star Pair based off of a fanart, but then I found an article on Wikipedia about Vietnam during World War Two, and it was the best written Wiki page I've ever seen. And so I'm pushing my initial idea to the very last chapter of this fic, and describing America and Vietnam's relationship during World War Two before it. No, it is not nearly as dramatic or heartrending or personal or involved as the Vietnam War, but I find it interesting and sentimental. And ironic. You'll see. Yes, there will be a lot more history, fluff, and blood. What can I say? I crossed over to the Dark!Hetalia side long ago. Give this side a try. We have cookies.

~mysterywings