I'll probably rewrite this one later. Sorry it's not my best work.

In the early 1900's, there was something very crisp in the air. The dawn of a new century: new things to be seen, discovered, explored, and experienced. There was a small island always shown to the east of America's land on maps called Japan. Japan and America were not the closest of allies, having only really met and talked with each other in 1852 when Commodore Perry had asked the country himself to come along for the voyage to open trade with Japan. America's the land of freedom so he absolutely loved to travel, but the sea felt very restricting. You can't do much in the sea. Only later on would America realize his true passion of being a pilot. Perhaps unfortunately, America had come to associate sailing with his former close relative England, who'd always had the best navy.

America got close with Commodore Perry on that boat as he juggled what he felt was his responsibility to keep up moral and help out on deck, as well as be the proper country he was supposed to be in order for these kinds of trade deals to work. They all wanted him to be really professional about it, but that just wasn't America's style. He'd definitely be more friendly while still being passive aggressive enough to show that he was the one in control, but we can still be friends.

He ended up getting so friendly with Commodore Perry that he allowed the man to call him Alfred, the name he'd chosen for himself whenever he wanted to feel like an actual human being for a change. It was a very special name to him.

Alfred still remembers how annoyed Japan had seemed at his arrival, his attempts to get him to go away without really doing anything, and the slump in his shoulders when he finally agreed to open trade. The guy needed to get out more, honestly! They'd talked for a while, gotten to know each other, and Alfred discovered that he was a very ... lonely person.

Alfred could relate. Sometimes, it seemed like the whole world was against him. (You should see the internet memes!)

American forces had left with Alfred on board, the knowledge of Japan's human name stored away in a file of memory.

Kiku sure hadn't been extremely talkative when they were together, so perhaps that's why he was surprised when he got the cherry trees. Such a grand gesture of friendship and America loved friends! In 1910, Japan sent America 2,000 cherry trees as a token of amity and peace. America was very pleased indeed to finally be getting something so nice from somebody.

Unfortunately, America's boss at the time, William Taft, ordered the trees to be burned. They'd arrived infected with roundworms and insects from their journey and thus had to be disposed of, some agricultural officials told the President.

Alfred was disappointed, to say the least. America definitely didn't want to put a rift between the two nations, and thus the Secretary of State sent a formal apology to Japan, but Alfred thought it needed to be more sincere. He wrote his own private letter of condolences to Kiku and hoped upon hope that he would be able to feel the true sorry and gratitude towards the gift in his words.

Fortunately, many saw this as such a wasted opportunity, that a second try was definitely called for. With the help of private funding, Japan is able to send over 3,000-3,020 cherry trees two years later in 1912. Their leaves were such an elegant color and the pure nature of it was so beautiful; they were truly one of Japan's greatest gifts.

This time however, a letter came along with them, addressed to Alfred himself directly from Kiku. Anxiously, Alfred read:

I thought a bouquet would be too cliche.

He laughs out loud. Kiku had certainly outdone himself.

March 27, 1912 is when the thousands of cherry trees will be planted along the Potomac River in Washington. Unfortunately, Kiku himself wasn't able to make it, but Alfred doesn't mind too much even if he was looking forward to seeing him and perhaps picking his mind on how to give gifts that weren't too fancy and weren't too cheap.

America stands there in the cold as First Lady Helen Taft and the wife of the Japanese ambassador Viscountess Chinda historically plant the first cherry tree along with the Potomac. A camera flashes and the women smile. A friendship seems to be blooming alongside these trees.

Alternate Ending:

Then these flashes fade away as Alfred-- no ... not a human name, as America listens to the reports coming back of what is left of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. What has he done ... What has he done? He's killed so many. A bomb more destructive than anyone could've known. The A-Bomb. He's dropped it. Even though America himself didn't make this decision, he left FDR do it. He trusted that man ... but this might be too much.

A tear falls down into his lap as he listens to the radio reports. It crackles on and on about how there are no survivors, about how their shadows are burned into the ground. America shuts off the radio, slumps in his seat and holds his hands over his eyes.

What has he done.

What happened to us, Kiku?