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There’s always been an unwritten rule that older nations came with much more endurance than their younger counterparts. Having lived for thousands of years, as nations rose in power and fell apart, only the most enduring ones were to survive. They didn’t always have to be the strongest, as proven many times when conquered countries disappeared from the maps for years on end, but they had to be durable enough to survive everything life had to offer.
In the modern times, for the nation's personifications it wasn’t a matter of survival anymore. Their longevity was still a pleasurable benefit though, and most of them would almost never fall sick (with the poor exception of England).
Japan, being one of the older countries, absolutely wasn’t an exception to this rule. He’s always been good at taking care of himself; both his body and mind. After all, there was once a time he lived all alone, isolated from everyone, and had no other choice but to learn how to care for himself, by himself.
It might have been sad, but Japan simply didn't believe anyone could take care of him better than he did himself.
Japan fell sick very suddenly.
With pretty much no correlation to his economy, on top of that, which was rather unusual. What wasn’t unusual were his symptoms — a runny nose, fever tinting his whole face in red, occasional coughs and a horrible scratchy throat.
He caught nothing more serious than a common cold, so he belittled it and continued with his work as usual. Japan was definitely a very hard working person, and he wasn't going to let himself skip work, just because he caught a cold! Its symptoms should pass after a week at most anyway, and stuffing himself with ibuprofen should help to make them bearable.
The thing was, they didn’t pass after a week.
Moreover, they continued for so long other nations started to worry over his state.
They would give him looks and repeatedly ask if everything was okay, and Kiku would always swear he was just tired, all while barely contacting from fever and inflamed sinuses. He would spend most of his days at the office trying to blow his nose in the least noticeable way, and somehow do his tasks, while all he wanted to do was come back home and curl on his bed.
After two weeks of his struggles, balancing on the borderline of getting cured and becoming even sicker, he couldn’t take it anymore.
He woke up an hour after his last alarm, struggled for minutes to even dress himself up, and when he couldn’t manage to stand for long enough to fix some quick breakfast, he had to accept his defeat. All shaking, despite being under two duvets and (at least) three comforters, Japan reached for his phone and chose England’s number.
He chose the Englishman’s contact mainly because of how England was pretty much the only country who had so much experience in terms of being ill. If anyone were not to judge him, it was Arthur.
He couldn’t call his allies, afraid to appear weak in front of them, and his other friend, the United States of America, was even less of an option. As much as Japan adored America (and oh how smitten over him he was, it was undescribable), he doubted if Alfred was the appropriate person to handle this topic with. He also really didn’t want the person he was interested in to see him like this.
“Hello? Japan? Has something happened?”
“Hello, England-san. I won’t be able to make it to the meeting today, please- please apologise to Germany-san for me”
“Great heavens, Japan, are you feeling unwell? Lad, you sound absolutely horrible, and it's really coming from a place of concern” England sounded clearly distraught by Japan’s voice.
“It is nothing serious, I just caught a cold” Japan mumbled to the phone, barely contacting. He’s already done the job of calling someone and making a notice about his absence, so all that was left on his mind was an overwhelming tiredness.
“Ah, I understand. That would explain your recent behaviour, I suppose. How long have you had the symptoms?”
…
“Hello?”
“Japan?” The phone dropped from Japan’s hand onto the pillow. All of his muscles relaxed, his eyelids fluttered, and his body finally succumbed to sleepiness.
Japan awoke dazed, and as far as his sleepy mind was aware, his head must have been meant to blow up soon — it hurt that much. He hasn’t been able to take any painkillers yet, too out of his mind in the morning. Actually, how long has it been since then?
After a few failed attempts to get up from the futon, Japan finally managed to do it. He stumbled out of his room, his limbs shaking, as he slowly moved towards the kitchen. Kiku sniffled slightly, a habit he always made sure to suppress while being with the other countries.
While Japan, personally, has always thought quiet sniffling was much politer than its louder counterpart of blowing one's nose, other countries always seemed to have an opposite opinion about it. Guess he should be glad he was currently alone, at home, with absolutely no one else around.
At least, he thought he was.
America suddenly stepped into the kitchen from around the corner, causing Japan to jump and lose his balance, genuinely startled. The American also looked surprised to see him there, but he recovered much quicker than Kiku; to the point he even managed to react fast enough to catch him before he fell.
“Dude, why are you out of bed? I thought you’re gonna sleep at least till early afternoon” America held him by his arm and back, causing Japan to shake at the touch.
“America-kun? What are you… what are you doing here?” His voice was weak, and he could feel his cheeks start to burn. Alfred was in his kitchen, in his house, was holding him so he stayed on his feet, and (it was the worst part) had a great view of his bed hair.
“Dad told me you’re sick, so I came to help you!” Kiku looked away from Alfred's face, internally cursing himself for ever giving him the spare key to his flat. He suddenly felt even more tired than he did when he first woke up, the humiliation of being seen in such an unkept and vulnerable state making him feel weak on the stomach from the already coming stress.
“America-kun, please leave. I don’t think it's a good idea for you to be here. I don’t want you to get sick as well…” He mumbled a weak excuse and stumbled out of Alfred's arms, trying to get out of his object of interest’s gaze. It was a horrible idea, as his legs soon gave up, and he almost fell again.
Luckily, once again America’s warm hands were there to catch him just in time.
“Dude, stop, you’ll just hurt yourself! Please, just relax. I’m here to help you, okay?” America tried to look him in the eyes, but Japan didn’t let him, still avoiding eye contact.
“I’ll stop touching you very soon, oki? I know how much you hate it, and I swear I respect it, but please bear a bit longer” Alfred talked to him all the way it took them to get back to Japan’s room. His touch was still incredibly embarrassing for Japan, but the comforting words really helped.
He’s always loved how thoughtful America was, underneath the loud and intense personality of his. It could look as if he didn’t care about something like personal boundaries, but it wasn’t quite the case. Every time Japan had set a boundary, Alfred always tried his best to respect it. He was forgetful and impulsive, yes, but he really tried. He always tried. And that’s what Japan loved about him.
When they finally got in the bedroom, Kiku got very gently placed on the daybed, after his friend pushed all the duvets and blankets to the side.
“O, wait, Keeks, you’re in your work clothes? Why?” America sat on the floor next to the mattress, far enough Kiku considered it an okay distance.
“I was sure I would manage to, um, get to the office” He admitted, tugging at his tie he didn’t have a chance to take off before. America left him alone with this task for exactly a second, before he reached out and swiftly untied it himself.
“Should I, you know…” He started to speak, but then paused. Japan looked up at him, from his lying position, his tired, dark eyes causing Alfred's ocean ones to look even softer than they did before.
“Would you like me to change you into something more comfortable? Would that help you?” America continued, clearly very uncertain, his voice quieter. Japan felt blood rush to his cheeks once again, and his eyes drifted away from the American next to him.
The request was a bit odd, but not stupid — Japan couldn't disagree how uncomfortable the work clothes were. The trousers weren't that bad, but his buttoned up, formal shirt, was a real problem. The buttons were digging into his skin and the material was uncomfortable, too stiff for him to comfortably lay in it.
Now, the point was, what should he choose — comfort and embarrassment or lack of comfort and smaller embarrassment?
“I trust you, Alfred” Kiku admitted, closing his eyes for a second. He then looked right into Alfred ones, and when all he found was expected gentleness, he continued:
“If it wouldn't be a problem, could you change my shirt, please?” A new wave of shame flooded his heart, causing him to shiver. Yes, he did just say it to a person of his interest, but said person was also his best friend. A kind, sweet man who didn't even try to hide how genuinely he wanted to comfort and help Kiku.
It's also definitely not that Kiku desperately wished he could feel his touch again.
“Sure thing, dude!” Before Japan could blink, Alfred had already gone to his wardrobe and picked out a new shirt for him. It was dark blue and, thoughtfully, had long sleeves. Feverous and cold Kiku was incredibly grateful for that.
Alfred slowly started to unbutton his friend's shirt, causing him to shiver more prominently.
He smiled sadly “Really sorry, dude. I feel like I'm really, you know, overstepping your boundaries today. So, just know I never wanted to do that” As soon as he took the whole shirt off, he was already putting the other one on.
“It’s okay. I don't mind it that much” Japan comforted him, his eyes slowly closing on its own. It was endearing how much Alfred was worried about touching Japan too much, while Japan actually didn't even dislike it. Yes, it was embarrassing, but also each time made something beautiful bloom inside Kiku's chest.
America's warm hands finished the job and gently tugged him under everything that was on the futon.
“Don’t fall asleep yet! We have to bring down the fever first, just hang on a sec” He rushed out of the room.
Japan was barely awake when he got put up, and a glass of water was put into his hand. Swallowing the painkiller was the last thing he managed to do, before laying his head on the pillow, and once again drifting into the world of dreams.
When Japan woke up for the third time that day, he was definitely feeling better than all previous times combined. His head stopped hurting so much, and he could safely shove away two blankets without feeling like he was freezing anymore.
Not asleep anymore, but still exhausted, he continued to lay curled in his daybed. He was definitely not regretting letting Alfred change his shirt; the one he was currently laying in was so much more comfortable, it was crazy he even considered staying in the formal button up.
After no more than a few minutes, the door to his room opened. Alfred peeked inside and having made eye contact with Kiku's opened eyes, his face brightened in a smile.
“Are you hungry, Keeks? I made you some soup!” He sounded almost excited, as he walked closer.
“I'm okay, thank you” He made sure to smile in response as much as his unused to such movement face let him.
“Wrong answer!” Oh?
“You lost your appetite, but you still gotta eat, dude!” Alfred chuckled, before his gaze turned more serious and he leaned closer.
“Are you feeling any better? I can still give you some paracetamol, if you want. Ibuprofen is off limits though, it wouldn't be enough time since you took your last one.” He explained in a light hearted tone, causing Japan's heart to flutter. Alfred was currently showing rare, but very appreciated, sensibility.
“No, no, I'm okay. I'm feeling much better now” Japan felt his cheeks blush as he looked at America, but at the very same time, he couldn't help but smile softly.
America responded with the same (a smile, that is) and then quickly disappeared, to bring the food he had mentioned.
The bowl he had brought him was nothing Japan expected. It wasn't the chicken noodle soup Alfred has always praised for being a great remedy and comfort food, but zosui — a purely Japanese dish.
“Here ya go, dude” Japan gently took the spoon America handed to him and leaned over the bowl which got placed on the matt on the floor, next to him.
“I found a recipe for it online, it said it's good for your stomach and all. And, also, it's Japanese, so I thought, hey, that would be right!” America sat on the floor, in a comfortable criss-cross position.
Japan slowly took a spoonful of the liquid and quickly noticed it wasn't boiling hot, just pleasantly warm. The twice cooked rice, swimming on the bottom of the bowl, was soft and sticky. Vegetables, rice and mushrooms took almost all of the space in the dish, barely leaving place for much water. The one that was there was thin, mixed with hardly any fat, that other soups normally had a lot of.
He slowly started to eat the porridge-based soup. For the fact it's creator was America (not the worst, but definitely not the best cook either) and he had made it for the first time in his life, it was very good. Japan would have definitely used more soy sauce, as his runny nose made everything taste much more bland than it really was, but he didn’t have the heart to say it out loud.
“It's very good.” He praised, as his slow spoonfuls couldn't pass the message on their own.
“I’m glad! You don't have to eat it all, just eat how much you think you can handle” Once again today, America showed a lot of consideration. And, once again, Japan’s heart fluttered from it.
After a few more spoonfuls, Japan couldn’t eat anything else. He placed his utensil in the bowl and leaned away, his back against the wall the futon was next to. America stood up and looked like he was about to take the bowl away, but he noticed something in the process which made him stop and get down again.
“Dude, you got a little bit of carrot…” He leaned closer, with a tissue in his hand “-right, here.” Japan’s cheek got gently wiped with the tissue.
He almost suffered a heart attack at the contact and looked at America with wide eyes, causing him to take a step away.
“Sorry! Really sorry dude, oh my god, I swear I-”
“Alfred.” Japan, shaking, took America’s hands in his.
“Please… I don’t dislike physical touch even half as much as you think I do. It’s not like I like it…” he gently rubbed the other’s hand “but when it’s your touch, Alfred…”
“I grew to like it” He finally admitted, feeling his body freeze after the wave of sudden bravery was already leaving him. He still felt extremely glad he managed to say it — America was getting way too guilty about doing something Japan was quietly yearning for.
“Really? You're honest?” Alfred slowly brought himself a bit closer to the futon.
“I know this is, um” oh, all what he was saying was so on the borderline of risky, but America’s kindness managed to melt every single one of his usual barriers, so he wasn’t able to hold back anymore “your way of showing other people you care about them.” No matter how humble Japan always tried to be, he couldn’t ignore how sincere America has always been with his care for him.
“Y-yeah. I think it is. I’m still sorry, dude. I’ll try to be much, you know, gentler, with you from now on” America's face brightened in a shy smile, but the sight was still just as beautiful as his usual ones.
“You’re already very gentle, Alfred” He quietly pointed out, fighting with himself to somehow manage his racing heart enough to look into his friend’s eyes.
“Said no one ever, haha!- Wait, really?” Japan wasn’t sure why America sounded this disbelieving. On the other hand, he really could come off tactless or insensitive sometimes. For example, till today, Japan didn’t even know Alfred was able to care for someone this well.
“You are” He added in further confirmation.
“Today, you were very kind towards me, and very, um, sweet.” He really hated how much trouble saying all that was causing him. Oh, how much he hoped he didn’t look like an absolute fool in his eyes… He already probably did, so he just hoped the impression didn’t increase in intensity.
“And I am very grateful for that. Thank you for taking care of me” His cheeks burned as he tried to speak, and the lack of fancier words than the unfortunate “very” made his embarrassment even stronger. Was it really his fault, though? No words in any language Kiku knew could fully describe how much admiration he felt for the nation next to him.
“It’s nothing, really! I care about you, Keeks! I wouldn’t leave you alone like that, no way” He laughed, bringing himself a bit closer, sitting on the very edge of the mattress.
Japan also, against his screaming mind, moved a little nearer. Nervously, but unusually eager for him, his arms clumsily half-hugged Alfred’s frame. He was just about to curse at himself for how awkward that move was, but America quickly fixed his mistake. He turned slightly, wrapped his arms around him, and pulled the shorter man towards his chest.
America was an absolute master of hugs, and it’s coming from one who used to think he hated all of them. His naturally broad chest was soft and warm, oh so warm. Another extremely pleasant thing about him were his hands; strong and moderately big, but gentle and soft at the same time. Alfred was usually fluctuating between being slightly toned and chubby and it was actually rather pleasant to find out that day he was currently more on the chubbier side. Kiku absolutely adored any version of him anyway.
Japan nuzzled his face against the other nation’s shoulder. He smelled like his citrus-oriented shampoo and steam from boiling vegetables. Both of those smells felt extremely comforting for Kiku, even though his runny nose didn’t let him fully experience them.
“Oh, Kiku… You’re so inflamed...” America pulled away a little, very carefully taking his head in his hands. Japan looked up at him, for once his eyes fixated on nothing else but the beautiful ocean eyes before him. Kiku’s eyes were also all the American could look at.
They remained like that for good minutes, before America, definitely the more impulsive one from the pair, made the first move. He leaned closer and Japan automatically closed his eyes, bracing himself for the soft pressure on his lips. Or, whatever else was to come, as his mind still wasn't even half on the way to process what exactly was happening.
It was the gentliest kiss he had ever experienced. More of a brush of lips than a proper kiss, but it still made him violently shudder. His breathing hitched and his tightly closed eyes, combined with everything mentioned before, were sure the reason why the kiss was so short.
Japan could feel America pull back and he panicked, his shaking hands grabbed him back, trying to keep him in place as much as he could. His eyes still stayed closed and he couldn’t force himself to open them; the whole ordeal was already making him feel like he was on the verge of a heart attack.
Luckily, America understood. He cupped his face again and left multiple feather-light kisses across his nose and cheeks. Two of them (the softest ones) landed on his closed eyelids, in a silent attempt to comfort him.
Japan’s face slowly relaxed, and only then Alfred brought him back into his arms, embracing him again. Kiku could feel the fog in his head thicken, his tired body once again refusing to stay awake. He could feel fever approaching again, as America softly placed his head on the pillow and, for the second time today, tugged him in.
His eyelids fluttered as he slowly opened them, just to steal a glance. America was looking right at him, his cheeks flushed and red. The look his eyes had, definitely matched the rest of his face — and the beautiful, beaming smile which adored it.
The last thing that was on Kiku's mind as the fever was taking him away once again, was much delayed shock what an ideal caretaker Alfred turned out to be.