My god.

First of all, I am so so so so very very sorry about the ridiculously long hiatus I was taking. I'll spare you my excuses. Everyone please take a cookie. T.T

Unfortunately, I can't guarantee any writing speed... lots of things are happening.

Anyhow... I BELIEVE this will turn out to be the last chapter.

Thank you, all readers. You guys are amazing. (Comment, please!)

And now begins the (possibly) last chapter of After Hiroshima. Enjoy. :)

(And yes, I finally figured out how to do the line-thingy. *^ ^*)

Russia watches rather passively as yet another vase of dead sunflowers shatters violently against his east wall, narrowly missing a large window draped with dark purple curtains. Plaster rains down and sticks to the velvet of the carpet. He clears his throat. "China~"

"What, aru?!" A few dozen shards of a previously hurled vase are flung across the room.

"I don't really have a problem with your destruction of my house; it's actually very entertaining." Russia bends down and picks up a piece of wilted sunflower. "I just never knew you had such a grudge against sunflowers, China."

China turns to Russia, eyes wild. "Idiot, aru! It's not... I never..." There is a brief silence, in which China's suddenly wavering glance meets Russia's unfaltering one. Then the Asian nation's knees buckle underneath him. Russia guides him to an armchair, and China falls backwards into the plush fabric. His hands over his face, he mutters, "I don't... Have a problem... With sunflowers... Aru..."

Russia watches him for a moment in silence, his expression unchanging. "China~?"

"...yes?

"Your hands are bleeding all over my chair." China stares numbly down at his hands. Surely enough, several large, open gashes from the vase shards cover his hands.

China gives a small, slightly irritated huff. "I'm sorry about your expensive couch, aru. But it wasn't by choice that-"

"It's not that." Russia straightens up and walks to a drawer. Opening it, he pulls out a roll of bandage, then returns to China's side. He then begins to wrap the injured hands.

China is silent for a moment, not sure how to respond to this unexpected kindness. Russia, also, doesn't say a word.

For a long time, this silence is left unbroken.

Then, as Russia tears the last of the bandage and secures it on China's hand, the Asian country stands. "Thank you, Russia, aru," he manages, a little awkwardly. He turns, walks to the front door, and opens it.

"China? Where are you going? I don't mind people in my house, you know..."

"I'm not going to America's place, if that's what you're worried about. Yet. Aru." China heads out the door, in his hurry slamming the door behind him.

The sound of the door reverberates through Russia's mansion for a while, then vanishes completely. Russia, still in his position beside the armchair, reaches out to feel the fabric. "Already cold... ah, well, it's as expected, I'm not surprised." Russia stands and promptly begins to clean up the mess in his living room.

And yet, there is a tinge of disappointment in his actions as he gently reaches out to pick up a ruined sunflower, its lowest petal soaked in red familiarity.
***

America sits beside Japan for about four hours before he realizes that he has absolutely no idea what he's doing. He stands up, suddenly a bit flustered, and checks Japan again, asleep in the bed he put him in. His body is still very feverish.

Although the concept of a fever is still fairly new to him, America knows that it's not exactly a good thing. He sighs, reaches for the phone in his pocket, and calls the first number he can think of (and certainly the only one he can remember).

After a few moments, England picks up. "Hello? Who is this?"

"Hi England!"

"Alfred?! This isn't your number, is it?"

"Um... Iggy, I'm on another phone?"

"Whose phone?!"

"Mine?" There is a brief silence. "Hello?"

The response is near instantaneous. "HOW MANY FUCKING PHONES DO YOU HAVE, YOU BLOODY IDIOT?! YOU'RE ALREADY TAKING UP HALF OF MY CONTACTS-"

"England..."

"What?!"

"Um... Japan has a fever, and I'm out of hamburgers. What should I do?"

England sighs on the opposite line. "Of course... Alright. Do you have a towel somewhere?"

America shuffles through the room, then picks up a discard towel on the ground. "Yup."

"Now dampen the cloth."

"Eh?"

"Wet it!"

"With what?"

"Water, you git!"

"Well why didn't you say so?" America walks to the restroom with quick strides, turns on the bathtub tap, and throughly wets the towel.

"Okay, now squeeze it out."

America scowls. "Then what was the point of wetting-"

"Just listen to me, damn it! You asked for my help, didn't you?"

America wrings the towel until it lies limp and damp on his hands. "Okay, now-"

There is the sound of banging on wood from America's phone. "Wait a second, I'll call you back. Don't do anything."

The call ends. America waits for three long seconds. "What the hell, I'll do whatever I want." He strides back into the room in which Japan is still sleeping, now rather restlessly. After some inner debate, Alfred folds the towel twice and places it on Japan's forehead, halfway covering his eyes. "That looks good! Ha! I laug. In your face, Iggy!" America begins his signature laugh, but stops abruptly at the quiet motion of Japan's lips.

America frowns, leaning in, but the words are inaudible. Ten, by instinct -as if someone had done this for him, too, years ago -, he reaches out and dabs a finger on the skin beneath Japan's right eye. It comes back wet. "H...hey, Japan..."

Japan is shivering. His voice rises to an audible whisper. "America..."

America watches, concerned. "Japan?"

"...I'm sorry..." Japan turns over, still trembling underneath the blankets.

America stands, still, for a moment, emotions crowding out any thoughts he had, leaving only a painful blank. Then one thought: This room... It's suffocating me...

Choking on the air surrounding him, America flees the room, trying futilely to leave the desperate confusion behind in it.
***

England hangs up with a sense of relief, straightens out his clothes, then answers the door.

Of course, he didn't exactly anticipate China to come flying through the door and slam him against a window.

"What the hell were you thinking, aru!"

England struggles in China's grasp. "I have to say, I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about -bloody hell, let me go, this is no way to treat your host!"

"I'm talking about the atomic bombs!"

"W-what?" England hazards a laugh. "That was America's doing!"

"But who can blame him, aru?" China tosses his head with disdainfully. "He's an absolute idiot, aru. But YOU! YOU could have prevented this! What are you trying to do to the world, aru?!"

"Like I-"

"Just shut up and listen, aru!" China releases him and begins to pace. "Pretty soon, nations will be stocking up on these bombs, aru! For "security," aru. And then what will happen to us?! Threat of constant nuclear warfare, aru! Then what-"

"I know!" England cuts in impatiently, suddenly irate. "I know that this has happened and I know I am partially to blame! But what the hell can we do?! Just wait it out! Just... wait it out..."

"Nuclear weapons won't go away, aru," China says quietly. He gives a long sigh. "Anyhow, I will now go and see Japan, aru."

"No, you can't," England says quickly.

"Why not, aru?!"

"It will not be appropriate in this situation," England explains. "Your countries are not reconciled yet."

"But-"

"But you can call him," England cuts in, obviously not wanting to incite China's fury once more. "Go ahead, you can call him through my cell. He's at America's place."
***

Japan snaps into consciousness. He is feeling much better; the fever must have broken. For some reason, America is not there. "America-san?" he tries, calling out the name of his host tentatively. He recieves no reply.

But his phone starts to ring. As in the tiny one, in his pocket. He pulls it out, which isn't easy. He tries to make out the caller ID, which is impossible. He sighs and picks up. "Hello?"

"This is China, aru." The voice is stiff.

"...China?"

"Yes. And as your superior, I command you to seperate Hiroshima and Nagaski from your being immediately, aru!" By the end of this, China is shouting.

"...what do you mean?"

"I mean that you should seperate yourself from the two cities; turn them into seperate beings, aru."

Japan sighs. "China, you know I cannot."

"What do you mean you can't, aru?! Your nation needs you, you can't be ill right now! And..." There is a short pause. "If you don't get better I'll never even THINK about forgiving you, Japan, aru!"

Japan bites his bottom lip. "...then I am sorry, China, but I suppose I will not be able to gain your forgiveness."

China's voice breaks. "But why not, aru..."

"I cannot put anyone else in harms way. I will not put someone else in pain for my own sake." Japan straightens up. "I am a country. I can manage this. But a city, even a province..."

"...I see," China says finally. A sigh can be heard from his side of the line. "Then you must do something for me, Kiku, aru."

"Kiku...?"

"Put the phone on your forehead, Kiku, aru."

Confused, Japan does as he is told. He feels a gentle vibration against his forehead, just enough to warm the surface of his skin. Then he puts the phone back to his ear. "...China?"

China is sobbing. "It's Wang. Wang Yao. And I forgive you, Kiku. With all my heart. Goodbye, Japan, on which the sun rises."

The call ends.

Japan holds the phone close to his heart. "Goodbye, China, upon which the moon shines bright."
***

Japan repockets his phone just in time to see America burst into the room. "Ah, America-san."

"Yeah, hey." America has a forced smile stretched across his face. "Come! Let's play video games!"

"W-what?" America helps Japan to his feet and leads him into the living room (turned game room). "A-alright."

America walks briskly down the hallway, makes a dash for the game system, then begins to set it up with record speed. He inserts the WW2 disk as Japan awkwardly finds a seat on the sofa. "You know, there's more than one ending to this game."

"Huh?"

"Come on! Let's have some fun!" America says in an excessively cheerful voice. "Bomb New York City! Bomb Washington. Let's go for it!"

"...what..."

"Come on! It's just a game, right? And I... I sure as hell deserve it!" America shoves a fame controller into Japan's hands and waves his own. "Let's play! We should totally-"

"America!" Japan drops his game controller and suddenly pulls America into a tight hug.

"...!"

"Don't be silly, America-san," Japan says quietly, into the folds of America's clothes. "If I add more fire to this world, it will burn down. Please, listen to me."

"..."

"America-san, I have done terrible things in this war. I... I frightened myself. I hurt many countries. China... Korea... you. Perhaps I could not have been stopped without the atomic bomb. I can't tell you whether or not what you did was right, or wrong, but I can tell you that it restored peace, and kept much evil from happening. Alfred-san, I plead for your forgiveness."

America stiffens. "Please don't apologize..."

"My conscience dictates I must. I am very, very sorry. Please forgive me."

"...Japan, isn't this rather too fast and forward? You must think of your country."

Japan smiles. "Kiku."

"Huh?"

"I am Kiku, and apologize to you. Will you, Alfred, accept my apology?"

After a small silence, America nods, smiling, tears streaking suddenly down his face. "Yes. Yes, I do."

Japan pulls back slowly. "Then I am at peace."
***

"Agh!" Germany shoots up from his chair. Italy looks up at him in alarm. "I cannot stand it! Who knows vhat the hell is going on in America's house? I must call Japan!"

"B-but Japan said..."

"I don't care!" Germany whips out his cell phone and dials Japan's private number. After a while, Japan picks up.

"Hello?"

"Vhat's going on? Are you alright? Has America been taking care of you successfully?"

"Yes, Germany, I-" There is a clatter.

"Japan?!"

"HEY! THIS IS AMERICA!" Germany cringes.

"Hey! I can hear it!" Italy says, smiling wide. "That's so cool~"

"WE'RE REALLY BUSY PLAYING VIDEO GAMES, SO YOU SHOULD PROBABLY JUST HANG UP NOW," America continues.

Before Germany can answer, Italy squeals loudly, "America~? Can we join you? I'll bring some delicious pasta!"

"Sure!" America says. "Actually, why don't I invite everyone? I can totally beat everyone (especially Iggy-face) at Hamburgers! See you~" America hangs up, leaving Germany to glare at Italy.

"Italy!"

"Vehh? What's wrong, Germany?"

"You're trying to skip training again by doing this, aren't you?"

Italy pouts, then smiles happily, taking Germany's hand. "It's not just thaaaat~ I just think a party with everyone will be fun, after the war and all! I kind of missed them, you know. It'll be nice! C'mon~"

Germany remains stiff for a few more moments, then sighs. "Vell, I suppose a little party can't hurt-"

"Yaaaay!" Without giving Germany a second to continue, Italy drags Germany out the door.

Germany smiles.