Hidden From The World Of Hetalia.

Fallen. Japan.

Fallen.

Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait! There are sexual themes in this chapter as a heads up. This is the 2nd out of the 3 part chapter of the Japanese occupation. I also apologize if it may sound rushed. I just don't want to keep putting this off any longer. Thank you and I hope you enjoy!

April 10, 1942

The noon sun shone high above all of their heads. It was as if it was slowly cooking them from the top down. Though their legs were no exception to the exhaustion from walking uneven terrain for long hours.

Weary Filipinos and Americans trudged and shuffled towards what direction they were led to. Some have fallen and tripped over their own feet, some gave in to death's lovely embrace, and some have met their end in the hands of Japanese men for the most trivial of reasons.

In front of the line was none other than Philippines. Her wrists and feet were bound, leaving her wrist and ankles bruised from walking, while also making the distance of her steps into mere inches. Her whole body weighed heavily as her mind swirled with nothing but pure muscle memory of walking continuously into the far distance she couldn't get to. She stared blankly at the back of the car she once rode in, now driven by her Japanese captors. She was occasionally inhaling the smoke of the car and felt as if her lungs could crumble at any moment.

Next thing she knew, she was pushed to her side, leaving her stunned and on the ground. She looked weakly over to the Japanese soldier who had apparently caught her slowing down. He was now threatening to shoot her.

Yes, that idea sounds good to her right now.

She could feel the worried eyes of her countrymen looking at her. Their eyes that were once fierce and filled with fire, now reduced to nothing but ash. They were as tired as she was. And Philippines would do anything just to keep them safe.

A man in the front of the march noticed Philippines was down and was about to help her up. He stepped out of his line only to get shouted by the same Japanese soldier and was now pointing his rifle at him. For fear of making things worse, Philippines stood up and went back to her formation without a word. All went back as they were before.

With the exhaustion on all Philippine, and American soldiers participating in the march, plus the heat, would make anyone crumble. And the Japanese prone to kill.

In the middle of the line, someone had collapsed again, making the person right behind to stumble. Several screams were shortly heard, to the alarm of the soldier assigned nearby. Without warning, the soldier shot the collapsed person in the head, not dealing with the time it could have taken to get them back on their feet again. Some people, mostly women, sobbed as their husbands urged them on to walk ahead. The soldier returns back outside the line to walk.

As the number of prisoners grew light, Philippines' heart grew heavy. Her tongue that spewed fiery words had been silenced overnight. All of them could do nothing but walk.

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Countless people had been claimed by death before the first night came to cloak everyone in darkness. The Japanese had set up camps for themselves. Everyone else had been stationed outside to guard the prisoners. Philippines herself was given the special treatment of being tied to a wooden post in the middle of the camp, away from her people. She was the enemies' special cargo. And was the last thing the Japanese wanted to lose.

She had faced the ridicule of many Japanese soldiers who ate and drank in front of her. They had made a bonfire right next to her. Just close enough to make her sweat even more but not enough to burn her skin. It was as if hell itself had been brought to her land in the form of Japanese troops. In the distance, she could hear the screams of numerous women being dragged off into a tent to "comfort" the Japanese soldiers.