Italy stared at him during breakfast.

"Hai, Itary-kun, what's wrong? Is there something on my face?" Japan replied while he pulled out his handkerchief.

"Nein, nein." Germany replied, somewhat scared.

"Doitsu-san? What's the matter?" He looked up. "It's not April fools, is it?" He looked around, trying to find something to make the mood lighter, but couldn't really succeed. The table was quiet for a while, except for the clanking of the spoons against the plate. (That was mostly Japan's fault.)

"Kiku," Germany then suddenly spoke. "You do not remember anything about last night?"

"Umm..I was reading some manga, drew some pictures, had dinner with you two, and slept in the guest room." Kiku replied.

"Only that? You were screaming at midnight, cursing loudly, and when I and Germany came you actually pointed a sword-thing at him. It was scary!" Italy replied, and started sobbing. "You called me rude names and called Germany a-"

"Shut up, Italy. It might have been a dream or something." Germany interrupted. "But, Kiku, as a friend of yours, I would like it if you don't refer to me as a Nazi."

"B-but I don't even remember what you are talking about."

"Best you get yourself checked."

Timeskip. *Tosses the remaining 5 days, 15 hours, 9 minutes and 31 seconds out of the window.*

Kiku lay on his futon, back in Japan after a stressful week. France was a romantic country, especially for a G7 meeting. It was fun, but those few 'screaming' incidents he had made the memory unbearable. Thankfully, the Axis were the only ones who knew about this, and they could keep a secret.

Hopefully.

He pondered over the situation.

"What really happened? I have no idea." He began talking to himself, and maybe even Pochi, his doggie friend who was right beside him. He tried to think. He then got up and walked towards the cupboard, and opened the drawer. Inside was a photograph of him with the Asians, some birthday cards, and some faded out scrolls with kanji written on them, not to mention a lot of other stuff inside, mostly old. But what he was looking for, wasn't really there.

"Pochi-kun, do you know where is my mirror?" He looked over at the dog, now sleeping. "Oh," he said, to himself. "I broke it. Now even the second players won't be able to help."

Second players, or as general folk knew them as, 2ps were alternate personifications of these countries. Very few nations knew about them. But there was one who could communicate with them.

Japan.

He and his 2p had a sort of a 'special relationship' with each other. Kiku would ask Kuro for a lot of advice back during the World Wars. But then it led him in trouble. Remember the bombs?

Now he only contacted them once in a while, because along with being alternate personifications of the countries, they also were a lot more violent and sadistic. And he had to keep them in check.

"Wait," Kiku then stepped back. "Kuro- did he cross the border? Or any of the others? I was talking to him through the hand mirror, before it br-" Before he could continue his rant, he felt an excruciating pain in his chest. Blood filled his throat.

He fainted a moment later.