I Have Blue Dots On My Pregnancy Test?

[APH] This is not the end

Title: This is not the end
Fandom: Axis Power Hetalia
Characters: Alfred F. Jones (America) / Kiku Honda (Japan)
Genre: Angst , Melancholy, General (?)
Rating: 14 + / Yellow (if we are going to color XD)
Warnings: OOC Yes'. Kill me.
Word Count: 484
Notes: I'm not a person who likes to make notes in kilometers, so try to be clear and concise, going for points. u_u
1) This shot is set August 6, 1945, the day Hiroshima was bombed. For those wishing to find out, here it says all (but maybe not.)
While we're on, the Hibakusha referred to in the shot are the survivors in the bombardment. (Hibakusha in Japanese means "person exposed to the bomb")
2) Yes, I have sinned by OOC. Yes, I sucks. Yes, you can kill / torture / beating me. I have no excuses, just so I could see America in this particular situation, I saw that.
I preferred to portray a person as a pseudo-evil (we're always talking about America, you can not define evil.) An idiot who eats burgers all day. Also because, in my twisted reasoning fangirl, if one dropped a nuclear bomb on your house because he does not have offered a hamburger, but because there is a plan and reasoning behind u_u
3 ) is not Hinomaru a person, but the red disc at the center of the Japanese flag. Letteralmente significa "disco solare", e sta a raffigurare, appunto, il sole.
4) The title sucks, I know, but since titles do not have much fantasy, and flesh u__u
5) Participate in fanonfest Fanworld with the prompt: Alfred F. Jones - America / Kiku Honda - Japan, Atomic Bomb
6) Prum Powa u_____ù

This is not the end

Hiroshima, 15:34
Silence, no sound disturb the repose of Hiroshima.
flames, slow and relentless, voracious devouring what remains of the city. Buildings and condominiums devoured by the black cloud that morning, now we can only pick up the pieces.
Japan observes the road, set aside one of the few walls still standing. A few hours earlier, on quell'asfalto, there was a child playing with a ball.
The ball is still there, slumped near his feet. Baby there's no trace, has disappeared along with the roar of the bomb.
The desolation reigns on Hiroshima, a city that has remained without inhabitants, without homes, without anything. Japan
crying, collapsing to the ground, the arm broken, a flap of skin hanging from his forehead, coal-black hair plastered to her cheeks wet with sweat and blood.
Unable to think, only to rally against that concrete wall, staring into space with wide eyes. Tremble, Japan, facing the expanse of dust. Lens tears streaming down his face, mixed with red blood running down their cheeks. Meanwhile
Hiroshima burns together with the people that once inhabited it.
Even the flames seem to mourn the city, shaking the debris in the warm embrace of death.
Away from the funeral, sitting on what once must have been the foundation of a house, America laughs.
With fire in Hiroshima lights a cigarette, letting the scent of a narcotic nicotine completely surround it.
smiles to the pain of Japan, but it comes close.
not disdain, he feels, not even fear or shame. We simply do not want to go to him. Like a ghost
merely points out, smiling, the first hibakusha leaving the city.
Japan sees him, but does not have the strength to stand up and meet him. This is the end, it is said, by tapping with your fingertips the immaculate uniform who had once flaunted in front of all other nations.
With dark eyes fixed on America, Japan cries, even though he knows not to have to, not in his presence, at least.
Sensing that dark gaze on himself, the blonde gets out a sigh, standing up. One last shot that fills the nostrils of nicotine and throws the cigarette on the ground. It
system jacket, ready to leave Hiroshima.
Before doing so, however, he turns to Japan and, greeting him with a nod, he murmured, "Good luck, my friend. This is not the end, it is only the beginning. "
For a few seconds you hear only the steps that the nation moves away, disappearing behind the clouds of smoke and dust raised his leather shoes.
Silence returns to reign on Hiroshima, the city became ash, while America returns from his deployment, pleased "to have shortened the war."
Prisoner of silence, Japan closes his eyes, falling asleep in the shelter of that last wall still standing.
not know why, but a strange idea has taken possession of him, no matter how much he must suffer, sooner or later Hinomaru also will shine again on Hiroshima.