I can't do this humor thing.
I promised myself I would do something silly with Okinawa in it, but this still ended up being more serious than what I'd planned for originally. Ah well, it's still a bit more lighthearted than the usual.
Also, asking someone to share your grave after death is a form of marriage proposal in Japan. It's not morbid, but actually very romantic.
(Well, supposedly. My source on that is my professor, but she thinks everything is romantic!)
Japan has come a long way, he thinks.
Of course, many nations have, but he likes to think that he has come an especially long way, from feudal eras to unified, anti-war nations. As the modern age marches on, no one has been more ready than Japan, embracing the future and the possibilities of tomorrow while so many others are still stuck in the present. Yes, Japan has grown and matured, and he is still growing and maturing, healing old wounds, overcoming the past, mending foreign relations and undergoing civil rights movements.
So when his sister works up the courage to say that she would like to have alliances of her own, he is receptive and encourages her to elaborate, because he is not the nation he once was. Okinawa will always be young in his eyes-and she will also likely be young in everyone's eyes, perpetually in her preteen years-but he knows that she is no longer a child, and that she deserves his recognition.
Okinawa wants to get married, and there is nothing wrong with that, Japan tells himself. On the contrary; it is wonderful news. And Japan decides that they will go about this the modern way-Okinawa can meet many partners first to guarantee a good fit, and she can choose whomever she wants.
Within reason, of course. Not literally any nation would be acceptable, but Japan is certain she knows this already. It goes without saying, really. There is a sizable list, Japan realizes, of nations that he would not like Okinawa to get involved with, though surely the list of those he would approve of is quite extensive as well.
He just has to think about it for a minute.
He'll come up with some.
He's sure.
Mostly sure.
Fairly certain.
Well, okay, so maybe not. The more Japan thinks about it, the longer his Nations Not Permitted to Marry My Sister list becomes, so he decides to stop thinking about it. It will be fine, he reassures himself, because Okinawa is his sister; she shares his intuition. He will simply have to be patient and see who she brings home. Things will work themselves out, and he will let her handle things on her own because he does not need to get involved.
America is the pushy friend who always has your back, so he is begrudgingly forgiven, even when he borrows things and returns them in poor condition-or not at all. There's no question that he is enthusiastic and modern and capable of protecting Okinawa, but Japan is worried that his unhealthy lifestyle and brash mannerisms will rub off on his sister.
He is, unfortunately, also the first person to respond after Japan announces Okinawa's interest in forming a union, showing up on their doorstep dressed painfully informally-a sports jacket and jeans and a shirt reading, "I 3 NY," which Japan finds particularly offensive because the war is over and there's no reason to be using confusing codes anymore. "Hey, Japan," he greets with a wave, "Hey, Okinawa." His sister politely smiles at him and walks to the door and Japan almost holds out his arm to stop her but reminds himself that she should be free to make her own choices. This is modern, he tells himself, this is a good thing.
"You need to bring her back by six o'clock," Japan says, and America starts to protest because it's already four in the afternoon.
"How about eight?" Okinawa suggests, and Japan is shocked that she would talk back to him but bites his tongue and reminds himself, modern, modern!
"Not a minute later," he says calmly as he watches them leave. America starts talking within seconds and seems to be too self-absorbed in whatever story he's telling to hold her hand or put an arm around her waist, which is good, because Japan just might have gone with them if he had.
They return early, and Japan knows that Okinawa's disappointed expression should not make him as happy as it does. "How did it go?" he prods, but she does not answer right away, drifting past him into the house and curling up at the kotatsu.
"Disappointing," she says softly, and she sounds like she might cry.
Japan is torn between celebrating and calling up America to chew him out for making his sister sad, though he knows that the other man might just take it as a challenge, and he does not need him coming back.
When China shows up the next afternoon, Japan scrambles for excuses without really knowing why. "She is your sister," he insists, "So she should not marry you."
"That doesn't matter," China says, and then continues bitingly, "And we are not related, anyway. Remember? You made sure of that." Japan curses his lack of foresight.
"She is to be home by five."
China raises a brow. "That is half an hour from now."
"Then don't go too far."
"It is okay," Okinawa says, tugging on China's sleeve, and he smiles at her indulgently and takes her hand. Japan is angry, but he's starting to learn how "modern dating" works. Okinawa will come home disappointed, he is sure of it.
He pauses.
He will make sure of it.
And sure enough, she does return home disappointed, half an hour later, though rather than tearful she is angry. "China's boss called him," she said, "He said that a union is not allowed with me, because the Japanese government would not tolerate it."
"Bosses," Japan said, shaking his head, "They ruin everything."
She stares hard at him. "You know something about this."
"I do not know anything about this," Japan insists, and she stalks to her room and sulks for the rest of the night.
Germany is the next to come and is so incredibly awkward that Japan feels suave standing next to him. It's unfortunate, because Japan thinks Germany is one of the few countries that he might actually allow Okinawa to marry, because he is unable to see her as anything other than a small child. This thought is apparently at the forefront of Germany's mind when Okinawa comes to greet him in her western clothing, a brightly-colored sundress that accentuates everything she does not have, and Germany politely apologizes and excuses himself, saying he "doesn't think he can do it."
Okinawa is even more disappointed this time, and Japan spends some time with her crying into his shoulder as he debates whether or not he should call Germany back and tell him to be a man and take his sister on a damn date but he eventually decides he'd rather not.
"I will marry Okinawa!" proclaims Sealand, and before Japan can even say that it is out of the question, Okinawa gently pats his shoulder and tells him he's too young.
Austria has been married once before, and Japan is worried that the gap in experience between them will lead to problems, and he is automatically suspicious when she returns from the first date giggling to herself and staring into space. She takes a sudden, inexplicable interest in the piano, though the second date does not go nearly as well.
"There is someone else he likes," she says passively, though he sees hurt stinging her eyes. Japan does not know Austria well enough to feel comfortable confronting him, but he is thankful when she gets bored of all of the classical music CDs she's been collecting and returns to the koto instead.
Japan is tempted to shut the door in Italy's face, but he knows there could be worse on his porch, so he grudgingly engages in some small talk while they wait for Okinawa. He supposes the other is quite harmless, despite his positively shameless behavior and complete disregard for personal space. He wants to offer condoms, but he does not want to encourage such behavior, and on the first date! He doesn't even want to think about it.
Okinawa is brought back on time, and is acting no different from normal, which only makes him worry more. "I made dinner," she explains when he asks what they did, "He wanted to try Okinawan soba."
Japan is appalled that Italy did not treat her to dinner but rather made her cook for him when they're not even married yet, but he pushes it from his mind. Okinawa is not excited or planning another date, so he assumes that the danger is over, and the metaphorical bullet has been dodged.
Russia shows up despite being told specifically not to come, and even though Japan does try to close the door, he wedges his foot inside and suggests, in the eerie, dangerously calm tone he always speaks in, that Japan let him see his sister, and he very reluctantly does so, though he's halfway to calling his boss to put another country on the List of Nations Not Allowed to Form Unions with Okinawa. (It's becoming rather lengthy.)
Okinawa, meanwhile, is torn between wishing her brother was there and being glad that he is not, because they do not go out for dinner but just take a walk, and Russia has her cornered against a tree within minutes and telling her to become one with him. She tells him, gently but firmly, that she would rather choose for herself who she makes a union with.
Russia smiles absently and she takes in a sharp breath when his eyes open halfway.
"I know you're accustomed to simply being taken," he murmurs, "I wonder what Japan would do if I tried?"
She's not sure why he lets her go, but she suspects-when her brother glares at Russia's back after he brings her home-that it has everything to do with a history that she is only partly aware of.
France is the last straw.
Japan has been patient. He has been willing to allow his sister to date in the way that modern girls do. He has been willing to put up with America's cultural insensitivity, Italy's improper behavior, and Russia's simple existence, but there are some things that he simply cannot tolerate.
"No," he says simply, and France's smile falls.
"But-!"
"No."
He closes the door.
The whole ordeal leaves Japan even more exhausted than Okinawa, and he's silently grateful when she eventually gives up, saying that she will leave the politics to her brother. "It is all anyone cares about," she complains, "Foreign relations and economics and oil. I am not interested in any of that."
"They are important things, sister."
"I know," she says with a childish smile, "So I will leave them to you, who is good with important things." She sits patiently beside him on the tatami floor. "Nobody has said it to me, so will you say it instead?"
"Say what?"
"That you want to share a grave with me?"
He pauses, processes her words, and flushes slightly in embarrassment, "There is no need for that. I am already your ally. And we are family; we already share the same grave."
"But I choose you, brother. You said I could choose whomever I wanted."
"I did not mean you could choose me." Though he is so relieved that he will not have to share his home with any of the other nations that he relents. "But if it is what you want, then," and for this, he turns and takes one of her hands into his own and squeezes gently, "Okinawa, will you share a grave with me?"
Her eyes are glistening like she might cry and she smiles. "Yes, nii-san, I will."
And so, in the end, nothing at all will change. Though he will never say it, Japan is secretly very happy about this.