Yes, here I am again. Yet another Japan apologizing fic. Japan's always so emotion filled that it's just so much fun to tear his emotions up with writing! :D Yeah...anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

How could you...

Why would you do this...

Your not my brother...

I hate you...

What happened to you...

You did this...

You tried to kill him...

He's never been the same...

Your fault...

Your fault...

YOUR FAULT

Kiku awoke, gasping and clutching at his bare chest.

His usual blue sleepwear had been clawed from his shoulders down to around his waist.

Japan sighed and stood on wobbling legs, pulling his kimono back up properly.

That nightmare had been coming more often. Though instead of the vaguely familiar voices echoing in the darkness, he was now seeing in flashes.

Flashes of scarlet, of blades glinting in semi-darkness, of faces he once recalled looking upon him fondly twisting in agony and disbelief.

Moving quickly into his bathroom, Kiku began splashing his face with cold water in an attempt to bring himself more fully awake.

He sighed as he leaned back and stared into his mirror.

An image of himself dressed all in black, with blood spattering his face and hands, staining his gold trim. His katana was dripping with crimson, and his eyes were narrow and cruel.

The one on the other side of the mirror reached out as Japan did, his face never morphing from the one of cruelty and bloodlust.

Japan's fingers brushed the mirror, just as the one on the other side whispered in a voice that seemed to crack with every syllable.

"Frail."

Kiku felt his knees go weak, but he didn't move from his place, his fingers still against the mirror.

The one on the other side's eyes narrowed even more, drilling into Kiku's eyes.

"I could have ruled. You could have let me. You still could. I am always inside of you."

The dark image leaned closer to the mirror and Kiku found himself copying his movement.

Kiku felt only two inches away from the altered image.

"I am always there. You can let me out."

Abruptly, the image slammed his fist against the mirror, desperateness coming into his eyes.
"Let me out. Let me out." He repeated, his voice still a whisper as Kiku backed away, tears forming in his eyes.

"I don't want to be you. I don't ever want to be you again." Kiku murmured, his arms raised. His cocoa eyes looked hallowed out.

The image smashed it's fist into the mirror again.

"You do. Your still empty. Your nothing inside. Nothing but me. Let me out and you could have everything. Everything."

"I'll never have them back!" Kiku sobbed, his back hitting the wall across from the mirror as he slid to the floor, his knees almost hitting the sink cabinet.

He was quaking, hands shaking, breaths coming in short pants.

The image scowled, it's face distorting into rage.

"You didn't need them. You never will. You used them for what they were worth and threw them away, like the trash they were."

Despite the anger on it's face it's fisted hands, the image never raised it's voice any higher.

Kiku gritted his teeth.
"They weren't trash. They aren't. I wouldn't let you kill them." He choked between his sobs, tears were rushing freely down his face.

Kiku's entire body shuddered as the image slammed it's fist into the mirror again, spiderweb cracks appearing on the surface.

"They hate you. They all hate you. You should hate them as well, you should counter their hatred with attack."

The deadly whisper echoed all around Kiku's mind, Kiku wrapped his arms around himself and hugged his arms, gripping his own elbows tightly, trying to quell his trembling.

The image raised it's fist again, preparing to strike it's final blow to the mirror.

"Stop."
The voice was like a spring breeze, warm and inviting as it fluttered gracefully through the air, both Kiku and the image hearing it.

The image froze, it's knuckles a hairs length from the glass.

The image, in a white uniform, looking, pristine and, with a gentle smile present on it's face, appeared behind the darkness's shoulder.

"You are too late."
"It is never too late for hope."

Kiku stared into the mirror, breaths ragged and cut off by coughs, his eyes were blurred by tears, but he could see what was coming.

Himself, another form, walking up behind the dark image.

"The hope is dying." The dark image replied.
"You are wrong. It is you who will be eliminated by the light."

The smile never left the white garbed reflections face.

Kiku watched it, why was it smiling?

The light image was standing eye to eye with the darkness, it's hands were relaxed at it's side, and it carried no weapon. There was no katana at his waist.

The dark image's teeth were gritted, and it was tightly clenching it's katana, but it did not dare to raise it in attack.

Kiku watched the two of them facing each other, and found words forming on his lips.
"What do I do?" He begged for an answer.

The light turned to him, and the smile faded slightly upon sight of the quaking nation, looking weakened and feeble on the tile floor.

"Never give into the darkness. Find a way to surround yourself with light."

The blackened image turned it's cold eyes on Kiku and twitched it's lips slightly.

"Welcome the darkness. It is your entire existence, use it to find your way to the power you have always hungered for."

The light image smiled again, and it reached out a hand.

The hand slid easily through the surface of the mirror, and it was offered to Kiku.

The dark image did nothing, simply looked down on Kiku with a mixture of appraisal and disgust.

Kiku reached up and took the white gloved hand, which pulled him to his feet.

Legs trembling and weak, he held hope's hand, and looked at the two reflections in the mirror.

Darkness was starting to get agitated, shifting from foot to foot, clenching and unclenching its free hand.

"Where do I go?" Kiku wanted guidance.

The image of hope smiled as it retracted it's hand, Kiku unwillingly releasing it.

Before withdrawing into the mirror, hope's hand fisted, then overturned and opened, offering something to Kiku in it's palm.

Kiku took the object, and the light image's hand was pulled back into the mirror.

It smiled once more, looking radiant and at peace.

"You will find your way."

It said.

Than he turned to darkness and held out it's hand.

Kiku watched in awe as the darkness looked the white image up and down, before sniggering.

"For now." It breathed, barely even being heard.

It sheathed it's katana and took hope's hand, and if it could be possible, hope's smile became a bit more pleased.

Hope looked back over it's shoulder at Kiku one last time, as it and the other reflection turned into the depths of the mirror.

"You will find your way."

It repeated.

Kiku stared as his darkness and his hope walked away together, hand in hand.

Once they had faded from view, Kiku found himself staring into a regular mirror again. His own reflection looking back at him, looking just as confused and afraid.

Kiku directed his attention back to the thing that he'd been given.

It was a piece of faded paper, folded so small that it was no more than an inch long. Kiku rubbed the paper with his thumb, the feel of it reminded him of the paper scrolls he'd once used many, many centuries ago.

Careful not to tear it, he unfolded the paper, one small fold at a time.

Once it was fully opened, it was about six inches long and six inches wide.

Kiku's hands had not yet stopped shaking from the ordeal that had only recently ended, by they renewed with twice the vigor as his eyes looked down upon the page.

He knew where he had to go.

Such a rush he was in to get there that he dropped the page onto his futon as he burst out the back door of his home and into the forest surrounding it, his speed as a nation instantly coming into play.

The page lay still in the moonlight. A long ago painting of Kiku, sitting on a back porch that had seen many arguments, mainly about rabbits on the moon. Kiku, barely ten years old, with who had then been the five most important people in his life.

Last Kiku had seen that page, it had been seconds before he'd torn it into pieces and burned it, yet there it was, whole and undamaged.

Showing Kiku he still had a chance, a chance to smile as radiantly and peacefully as the hope that lay deep inside his heart.

For Kiku, the world around him had blurred as he'd run, stumbling every now and then on the ever changing terrain.

Until the forest around him changed into bamboo, and he slowed, ignoring his aching feet. He hadn't bothered to get shoes.

He walked, almost in a trance, towards the edge of foliage that he knew was near. He arrived, and looked out at the old house.

The red paint was slightly faded, the deck was missing a nail or two, and the garden had been redone.

But from within Kiku could hear many voices, and he could see the warm glow of light through the papered sliding doors.

Kiku would smell the delicious food that was being feasted on within on the breeze, and the sound of chatter and din of laughter was easily heard.

Kiku had not seen this house since the day he'd run away from it, leaving a trail of scarlet blood that was not his own.

Kiku felt incredible dread boiling up in the pit of his stomach, but then he recalled the dark image.

Swallowing hard, Kiku stepped forward.

Unconsciously, he smoothed his wild hair down flat and retied his kimono, realizing it could pass as casual attire, and relieved it was long enough to hide his bare feet.

It felt to soon that he was mounting the steps, that he was looking up at the front door.

The door had a simple hand carved wooden sign on it, which read simply.

Welcome Home.

Beneath this was a smaller list of names, perfectly symmetrical, with three across the top of the sign and three across the bottom.

Kiku felt as though his heart had just stopped when he saw that there were six names.

He reached out, his fingers grazing the rough, carved surface.

Mei Mei, Hyung Soo, Yong Soo, Li Xiang, Yao...

He reached the final name, tracing it with a single fingertip.

Kiku.

They did not hate him.

The japanese traced the name over and over, trying to prove that he wasn't imagining it. On the bottom of the reddish wooden sign, clear of day, obviously no mistake.

Kiku.

If they had hated him, they would never had included him in the names, in the small list of people in their family, on the door of their house.

Welcome home.

"Welcome home..." Kiku whispered, eyes burning with held back tears yet again.

This was when the door to the deck slid open with a soft chunk, and a pair of footsteps padded out into the night, the door being shut behind them.

Kiku inched quietly over to the edge of the house and looked around the corner, he found himself staring at Yao, sitting on the edge of the deck, looking up at the moon.

"The rabbit is mixing medicine again, aru." He murmured, half wishing for someone to contradict him.

Kiku was mortified, what was he supposed to do? Walk out and apologize politely? Pretend nothing had happened? Break down into tears?

Run away?
Kiku's gaze slid back to the door, to the sign with the names in two neat rows.

Welcome home.

Taking a shuddering breath, Kiku stepped around the corner.

Yao heard him and glanced over his shoulder, when he saw who was at his doorstep his eyes flew open wide.

Mouth half open, as if ready to say something but not sure what to say, Yao flew to his feet, hands half raised to defend himself.

Kiku felt a pang in his heart, a knife stabbed in deeper.

He has every right to expect that I will hurt him.

"I-I..." Kiku struggled for the words, grasped at the proper thing to say.

Yao moved forward, albeit hesitantly, suspicion still in his round, wide eyes.

"I...came too..."

Kiku, from a mixture of exhaustion, fear of rejection, and guilt, fell to his knees, bowing. Yao stepped back in shock, looking down on the nation he'd never before seen this broken.

"I came too apologize."
If Yao had done anything, Kiku had not seen it, his eyes were focused solely on the grains of the deck.

"I hurt you. You took me in when no one else would, you trusted me, and I betrayed that trust. I betrayed all of you. Hurt all of you. I'm sorry. So sorry."

He didn't move, he honestly had no idea how he would deal with rejection now, he didn't know what he would do after that.

Kiku wasn't really aware of the next few seconds, but he felt a pair of warm arms around him, pulling up.

Kiku sat back on his knees and stared into Yao's golden eyes, for he'd come to his knees in front of Kiku, and had his hands on the trembling nations shoulders.

"You came back..."

Yao wrapped Kiku in an embrace, his silk robe's long sleeves draping Kiku in a blanket of red and gold.

Kiku sat there in shock for a moment, before slowly lift his arms and putting them around Yao, his shaking finally calming.

"What happened to you?" Yao asked, it had been less then five minutes, and the oldest of asia already knew something was wrong.

Kiku sniffed, hating how childish he felt.

"I...met my darkness."

Yao tightened his embrace, speaking slowly, soothingly.

"Let me guess, aru. After that, you met your light."

"Hai..."

Yao broke their hug and leaned back, still keeping his hands on Kiku's shoulders.

"Your home, aru. That's all I need to see to know which side won."

Kiku still looked weary, and beyond shaken up.

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright."

"No, it's not." Kiku murmured.
"Yes, it is." Yao said firmly.

"But I..."

Yao shook his head.
"Kiku. You'll always have that darkness, aru. But wherever there's darkness, there has to light. Understand?"

Kiku looked up into Yao's amber eyes, and nodded slowly.

"I do."

"Good, now I get a feeling that five people inside will all be rather excited to see you, aru." Yao said, coming to a stand and offering his hand.

Kiku stared at it for a long moment, feeling the same way he had when hope had outstretched it's hand.

He took Yao's hand, and allowed the older nation to pull him to his feet.

Kiku instantly stumbled, Yao grabbing his shoulders and steadying him.

"You've had a rough night, aru." The ancient nation said simply.

Kiku nodded.

"How about you stay the night here, aru?"

Kiku felt an ice that had been inside him for so long thaw away at those words. Trust was still there, and now it was growing stronger, all over again.

"That would be appreciated."

"It doesn't have to be, aru. This is your home to, remember?"

Kiku bobbed his head as, taking a deep breath, he pulled open the sliding door to meet with the sight of all of his younger siblings gawking up at him, some with food halfway to their mouths. Yong Soo did a spit take, spraying his drink into his twin brothers face.

"Ah...hello, everyone." Kiku said, bowing in greeting.

This was about all he managed before he was bowled over by his brothers hugs, by his sister's kisses, by the cries of disbelief.

Nearly falling under the weight while at the same time trying to keep Hyung Soo from murdering his twin, he thought to himself.

This is my home. I'll never forget that.

Ok, that's it, I hope it was angst-y enough for everyone! Well, please review and let me know what you think! Thanks!