This Is Our Last Song

Six- Say Something

"Japan?" he called softly into the room. His hands drifted to the pistol tucked into the waistband of his jeans as he stepped further into the room. "Kiku? You awake, buddy?"

"Alfred?" The Japanese man launched at him from across the room, falling to his knees in front of him and looking up at him. He tugged on the front of Alfred's shirt over and over, and started chanting his name in time with the repeated tugs. "Alfred, Alfred, Alfred..."

America crouched down, making their heads level, and gently took the other's hands away from the fabric they were tangled in. Kiku looked up, too, meeting his eyes evenly. Alfred almost broke down at seeing them; lifeless and dull. Not really seeing anything.

"Yeah, Kiku, it's me. Alfred." Kiku stopped chanting his name then, and instead started babbling in broken Japanese. Alfred sighed, sitting back and crossing his legs on the floor, never letting go of the other's hands.

He waited for a little while, just listening to the sound of his close friend's voice as he spoke nonsensically about only he knew what. After some time, Japan quieted, instead opting for rocking slowly, left and right, watching his bangs sway in front of him.

So, Alfred took his chance to start. "So, Keeks. Have you heard the news?" He attempted a smile. It as soon as he could muster it. "Your prime minister issued an official declariation today." His eyes started to water and he hiccoughed. Kiku looked at him worriedly, leaning closer to touch their cheeks together.

"Wet?" he asked in confusion when he pulled away again, tilting his head innocently. Alfred nodded, drying his face with the ends of his sleeves.

"Yes, wet. Because Kiku, you're not a country anymore, and you'll be gone soon. I don't want to have to watch you fade away, too. Like the others did."