Prologue

China remembered it well. He had sat in a room surrounded by many an influential Chinese politician. The young upstarts would nod enthusiastically in agreement, keen to impress and rise to power. The old ones with lined faces and calloused hands dictated, believing in their own omniscience and wisdom. They all seemed so decided on the new law. China felt that even if he were to raise an argument against it his voice would go unheard despite his prominent status.

The nation recalled the monotonous time he had spent in a cycle of sleepless nights and tedious days. He was either partaking in the routine procedures of his land without a care for what decrees were passed or lying in bed, not sleeping, just thinking. He had felt so weak then. He had scarcely got out of a famine in the year 1961. Thirty-five million died. Thirty-five million of his citizens. Gone. And millions more were starving.

When his bosses had first suggested a way to get out of this state he had assented instantly, devoid of hesitation. He had just been so desperate. No matter what he ate or how often he would rest he felt constantly drained. At the time no thought was given to the repercussions of his consent. But as China sat with these politicians, who were ready to finalize the new law, he began to have second thoughts.

An aged man stood at the head of a long table, his gaze falling upon his fellow officials. He spoke loudly and clearly, with confidence in his words. "We are all agreed then? We must enact a one-child policy in order to avoid another crisis. If the birth rate is not reduced, serious poverty could come to pass. We are too close to entering another famine as it is."

Favourable words were mumbled in harmony with their leader's views. None were opposed. If they were they did not speak up. Such was China. He did not argue or concur, he simply sat in silence. He yearned for someone to think of another way to be rid of starvation. However he knew there was none. This was to save his people, his nation.

All would be well in the end. He hoped.

The year 1979 begun and thus did the one-child policy. The Chinese government declared to all of its citizens that as of henceforth, anyone caught attempting to have more than one child, with the exception of more than one delivered during a birth (such as twins), would face heavy fines and punishment. Abortion became a common practice. Fortunately the use of physical force to make a woman submit to an abortion or sterilization was outlawed, but was not entirely enforced. This small relief was not enough to quell China's unease.

Bad things still happened. He saw them.

Every night his dreams were plagued by the screams and tears of the many mothers of China. Each nightmare would be different. Sometimes he would see parents cry for the loss of a child. Other times he would see babies discarded as if their lives were meaningless to the world. The dreams were terrifying and seemingly endless. But eventually they would always stop.

"My child!" A scream ripped through the dark abyss. "You can't take him away from me! He's mine!"

More cries and wails joined the first, each more terrible than the one before.

It was loud. So loud.

The noise.

The shapes.

Terrifying shapes.

Darkness.

It's everywhere.

Anywhere.

Only darkness.

China sat cross-legged in his nightmarish void. His eyes were shut tightly, not allowing a glimpse of the terrorizing images to seep through. But he could still hear them. He could always hear them.

He tried to keep his breathing as he did every night. But this time around things were particularly bad.

The din was deafening yet he heard every voice, as clear as a bell.

"It's a girl... No... No. Put her up for adoption. Don't worry about that... You only need a son."

"You whore! You have disrespected me one too many times! You are no daughter of mine."

"My baby!"

Shouts were whispered.

"But I can't pay the fine..."

And whispers were shouted.

"Please let me keep her! Please!"

It was too much.

January the 5th (1980)

China awoke from his dream. He did not panic like the first time he had a nightmare reminiscent of this. He simply let out a deep sigh and pushed his sheets away from his form, slowly raising himself to his feet and taking a few shaky steps forward.

He still felt the same exhaustion he had before the one-child policy. It overcame him at times like this.

It's too much.

It was my fault.

So weak...

After changing into appropriate winter attire, China stepped out of his warm house into the snowy scene outside.

This was the usual routine for him now. Every night he would have a nightmare, and then once he woke, he would go for a stroll. He found that the exercise was a good way to release any pent up stress or anxiety.

He stood on his porch, bathed in moonlight, staring to the sky above. It was still dark but to his east he could just about make out the warm strip of light that was dawn. It was early morning.

China's breath produced little clouds of white haze in the frosty morning air. The cold was numbing yet the chills that ran through him that were not completely to do with the weather.

Rubbing his hands together, he began to wander away from his house. On instinct his feet lead him to a nearby village. He would often end up here. It was always busy. Even at a time such as this people were beginning to line the edge of the path he walked, setting up market stalls.

They were all cold and they were all poor, yet they laboured on.

That is why he loved this community.

His people.

Just ahead, he saw a young woman, dressed in a thin dirty coat, stumbling through the deep snow. One hand was raised to shield her face from the harsh winds and in the other there was a small bundle, which she held with such care, as if it were as delicate as porcelain. Fresh snow clung to her skin as she continued to struggle through the street; not a soul stopping to help. Despite every factor working against her, she moved determinedly.

China was intrigued, if not slightly worried.

Anyone would be freezing dressed in so little layers. He had never seen her in this village before so she couldn't live here, but then she carried nothing but the bundle. Surely she couldn't be travelling?

He maintained a steady pace behind the woman, making sure not to walk too close but not falling behind either. He could hear her breaths coming to her in small sharp gasps and could see the way her knees would nearly buckle with each step. From a distance this wouldn't be obvious but China had been watching carefully. She was weak.

He was weak.

No. He was a nation, powerful and large. He was over 4000 years old! He had survived devastating wars and disasters. It would take more than a measly food shortage to finish him off now. That didn't mean the years wouldn't take its toll on him though...

China was snapped out of his reverie by the all too sudden and alarming sight of an empty road ahead. Where had the woman gone? His attention had only slipped for a few moments and he had already lost sight of her. Silently berating himself, China looked to the side just in time to see the flutter of dark hair disappear behind a building and into an alley. Luck was on his side today.

Or so he thought.

He followed the narrow trail in the snow that lead to the spot the lady had vanished from his sight and turned down the passage quickly as not to miss her again. He had expected to see her there. However he had not expected her to be waiting for him armed with a lethal bamboo stick. She was upon him almost instantaneously, smacking his sides with as much force as could be mustered, yet still cradling the bundle.

"Aiyaa!" China screeched, utterly startled. He batted the cane away with more difficulty than he anticipated. For a woman with such a slight build she was quite strong.

Even once China had taken a step away she still swiped furiously at him, bamboo cutting through the air like a knife. "Stop hitting me, aru!"

"Not. Until. You. Stop. Following. Me. You creep!" With every pause between her words she aimed another attack, the nation barely evading each one.

His expression morphed into one of guilt as he mumbled, "You figured that out the-" He did not get to finish his sentence.

His unlikely attacker had wasted no time in striking out at him again and this time it hit. China fell to the ground, in more surprise than pain. Although he was pretty sure a nasty bruise was already forming on the side of his face.

From his seat in the snow, the great country watched in shock and awe as the woman stared down at him with such hatred it unnerved him. Her cane was pointed directly between his eyes as her lips gave way to a feral snarl. There was some wild spark in her eyes; it was some kind of long lost instinct. Similar to something you may see in a wild animal when backed into a corner, with no way out but to fight, forced into defiance.

He had seen a display like this before. Somewhere...

By a river, sometime ago... There had been a tigress and a hunter. The majestic creature stood tall, proudly baring a bullet in her side, hissing threats and growling her detestations. The hunter couched, unfazed. He paraded the naivety of men, who have always underestimated all things natural.

He raised his gun and gently caressed the trigger.

He was waiting. Waiting. Waiting...

And he continued to wait even in death.

Teeth had buried themselves into his throat and red obscurities spurted from the wounds. Seconds ticked by and the Tigress's jaw would clench harder until the hand wrapped around the gun fell limp and let the weapon drop to the floor.

In a final surge of strength, the great beast pushed herself away from the ugly corpse and hobbled to the river, by the patch of reeds. She lowered herself to the ground and sat patiently, in a state of matted fur and bloody fangs.

The slender plants rustled, and then mewled. The Tigress replied with a low comforting rumble. The sound alone was enough to bring two bright eyes out from hiding. Slowly and ever so timidly, it emerged from the reeds.

The cub stayed with its mother until the very end.

Even when she stopped moving.

Even when she stopped breathing.

China realised then. "That bundle..." He began to express his thoughts aloud. "It couldn't be a baby, could it?"

"You will NOT take her away from me." The woman whispered in a cold vehemence, pushing the tip of her staff against his forehead, effectively pushing him away.

China could have fought back. He could have snapped the bamboo in half without exerting himself. He could have knocked her unconscious and left her in the snow.

So why didn't he?

He had power. Why didn't he use it?

He knew many a country who would react in such away. But China was different.

This was one of his citizens. She was a citizen who had been pushed to the limit and now acted upon instinct alone.

So he could never hurt her. It was not in his nature.

Besides, he had seen this before. The tigress was simply protecting her cub.

"I don't care if my father paid you a million yuan! You can stick the money up your ass and go back to where you came from!" Her fierce growl covered the tiredness veiled behind her soft brown eyes.

"I think you have misunderstood my intentions, aru." China said gently, making sure not to execute any sudden movements that may trigger her to panic again. He began to gradually pick himself up, causing her to flinch slightly, yet she still stood firm. "I don't know what horrible things you have been through. But I do know what I see before me, aru! I can see that you're close to collapsing. All I want is to help you!"

At his statement her stiff shoulders seemed to inadvertently drop. Her malice was waning but not completely gone. "People just don't help other people, especially if they don't know them." She claimed cynically.

China offered her a kind-hearted smile as he reached out his hand. 'I think you're underestimating the goodness of strangers, aru."

The young woman's body visibly tensed, her muscles becoming taut and frozen. She stared to him in confusion and barley registered him gently sliding the cane from her hand. She only noticed it was gone after China had placed it behind him. "H-Hey!" She lunged forward, intent on getting back her only form of defence. But it appeared that her body had simply had enough now. Her knees gave way and without the support of her legs she was left falling.

With what little energy she had left, the mother had managed to angle herself to the side in order to take the impact away from her child. Fortunately, China caught her long before she could hit the ground. She slumped in his arms, breathing heavily. "Give that back..." She muttered hoarsely.

"You don't need a weapon anymore, aru. You have no one here to fight. I only want to protect you."

"It's not me that needs protecting. My baby-" She gasped loudly in pain before continuing softly. "My baby needs protection."

China could feel the intense heat radiating in waves from her body, regardless of the icy dampness seeping through her clothing. Her face was flushed a blotchy red and her eyelids were beginning to droop downwards. The sovereign state knew he had to treat her and quickly. She was in a very poor condition. "I will safeguard the both of you then! Try to get up now, aru."

And with that China heaved the woman up into standing, one arm hooked around her waist and her own slung over his shoulder. She pulled her child closer to her chest, screening it from the world, as they embarked on the journey back to China's house through snow ridden land.

Now in his home, China had prepared his patient a bed in one of his many unoccupied bedrooms. There had been a time when each room had belonged to many little nations. The pitter-patter of feet and ringing laughter had echoed around his house then. Back in the glory days when he had been the one who had been relied upon, when he wasn't alone. But either due to his own stupidity or unfortunate circumstances every member of his family had left.

"Be sure not to move now, aru." China told the mother as he pulled the bed sheets over her body.

When he had first removed her of her soaking coat he had seen how truly small and frail her form was. Her paper-thin blouse stuck to her skin and revealed a time of malnourishment to China. He had then politely asked permission to change her clothes for her. She had argued against and insisted she was able to clothe herself. After almost ten minutes of her struggling just to remove a shirt he took it upon himself to help anyway, earning himself a grumbled threat as he undressed her.

Making sure not to stare, he had quickly glanced over her prior to letting her get into bed. Her face was still reddened and hot yet the rest of her was a sickly pale, with the exception of some small purple bruises that littered her body. Her flesh seemed to cling to her bones, giving her an empty look. The phrase 'just skin and bones' matched her appearance well.

Besides her worrying complexion and wasted manifestation, the only other visible impairment he could see was an unpleasant swelling in her right foot. The area was far too large and waxy-looking, and the skin had taken on a nasty red colour, some spots even gaining a bluish discolouration.

And that was only the outside! China had no idea what was happening to the woman internally.

He was glad to cover her, not just because of the indecency he felt but also because he could not stand to see her protruding ribs. It reminded him of the people constantly dying of starvation in his country.

Her gaunt features relaxed somewhat as she settled into the bed. She turned her head to the side, her gaze falling on her small smiling baby, removed from its rags and now wrapped in fluffy white towels. The child caught its mother's eyes and laughed loudly. The infant's glee was contagious to her regardless of how awful she felt. She wheezed a struggled laugh in return.

China smiled sadly at the herbs and flowers he ground into a bowl. There is nothing in the world more wonderful than a mother. He was sure he could put up a good argument against America's constant egotistical nonsense and prove that women like this were the true heroes in life.

He mixed the crushed plants, some powdered medicine and hot water into the bowl, gave it a quick stir and then offered it to the woman. She eyed the mixture hesitantly before bringing her lips to the dish. China slowly tilted the bowl upwards as she drank, cupping his free hand under her chin to catch any spilt liquid.

Hacking back a cough, she finished the drink quickly. China grabbed a cloth and wiped around the edge of her mouth as she slurred sleepily. "Are you a doctor then, Mr...?"

"Chi-Yao-uh, my name is Wang Yao, aru. And no, I'm not a doctor. I just know medicine well." He had not heard his human name out loud for a long time; it sounded strange but not at all unpleasant. In fact, it made him feel less brutal for every atrocity he had committed as a nation and allowed him to feel like an individual, with the innocence and naivety of such a creature.

She gave him a strained smile. "Well Wang Yao, my name is Tung-Mei."

"Just Tung-Mei... There is no surname?"

"Just Tung-Mei." She answered rather curtly, pressing her lips together with a downcast look. She held her face straight for a few moments then tears started to well in her dark eyes. Her expression contorted into a grimace as a distressing sob racked through her body.

China panicked at the sight. "What's wrong, aru?! Please tell me! What part of you hurts?"

"Everything..." She wept hysterically, her eyes and cheeks strewn with repressed tears. She hugged at herself desperately. "My heart, my body, my soul... It's so painful! Stop them from hurting! Please..."

"I-I don't know if I can fix a heart or soul...but I can help to fix your body, aru..." China replied shakily. He reached forward to envelop one of her trembling hands within his own clammy palms. He grasped her tightly, hoping to convey reassurance through the pressure. "I will try to cure you!"

China let go, rose and began scouring the room for anything useful. He wrecked shelving full of ointments and herbal remedies in the hope to find something.

Anything.

Muttering to himself quietly, he fumbled over some pots of salve. "No, this isn't right!" He threw his findings to the floor and moved on to some odd-looking jars. "I'm sure it's a fever, aru. But it's already so critical. These won't help. And on her leg, it looks like trench foot..."

He began to pace the room furiously, trying to scrape together some kind of idea. Something that could fix her. He only stopped when he felt a firm tug at his trousers, preventing him from continuing on.

China looked down and saw dainty fingers curled tightly around the hem of his pants. Tung-Mei's knuckles glared a vivid white against the gentle burgundy of her skin. She let her hand slip from the material but kept it fisted, her nails digging into her palm. She exhaled a shallow breath and croaked, "There is one way to fix both my heart and soul..."

He crouched beside her, seeing that her crying had been reduced to a gentle trickle. She appeared to have even less energy now yet her resolve was greater than ever before. Her will was something to be admired.

"W-What?" China stammered. He was keen for the knowledge but was also made quite apprehensive by the steely look the woman gave him.

"I don't care if my body cannot be saved. You will promise to take care of my child." She said without a shred of uncertainty.

China's mind froze at her request.

No. Demand.

He could only just about choke out a garbled response. "I-No, I couldn't possibly-What I mean is-"

"Didn't you tell me you would protect us?" She questioned him.

"I did but by that I meant healing you and keeping you sheltered all at once. So you won't need me to look after your baby, aru. You will be able to that yourself. That I promise."

She growled weakly, shaking her head. "No. Don't promise that."

"But you're not going to die, aru! I'm making sure of that!" China cried vehemently.

Tung-Mei sighed and closed her eyes in some sort of finality that even the great country didn't think he would be able to disagree with. "Then..." She began in an astonishingly composed tone. "May we come to a compromise?"

Without waiting for an answer she continued. "If I die, and bear in mind I say if, you will promise to take care of my child. You will protect her from harm and will not give her up to anyone. Do not let her go to an orphanage. Do not let anyone take her. Let her have normality and let her have love. Let her live the life I have failed to provide."

If.

It was only... if...

But that one word laced more horrors into his mind than anything else said or done. He could not disagree with what she had said. It was a conditional request after all. Nothing more.

Her death would not come to pass.

But what if it did?

China blazed in anger at the thought and then mirrored the feelings back at himself, towards his rage. He was cross with himself for being cross in the first place.

He did not have the right to get so infuriated over the whole matter, because he knew that deep down he wasn't doing this out of some spurring noble act of chivalry like that English idiot would, or even the pining France. Nor was he trying to be the hero.

He was helping this woman because he felt guilty.

There was some good to this, he wouldn't deny that. But ultimately would he really be so inclined to help her if there was no guilt?

He thought not.

He would not feel driven into a determination to see her through. He would not be urged to nurture her back to full health. And he certainly wouldn't be so distressed watching her suffering.

That is what he told himself.

He had lived so long and he had seen so much pain and sadness. Today was his breaking point. It just felt as if each decision he made could never improve anyone's lives. There was always a negative. There were always the star-crossed ones. The people who were doomed to fail because of his own choices and actions.

This time he wanted to make the right choice. But it seemed yet again he was being pushed to the wrong. Why didn't this mother struggle to live like she had done earlier? She hadn't lost her fight; China could still see that flame blazing within her. So he could only wonder why. He thought all humans' first instinct was to survive.

Tung-Mei slid a finger into her child's tiny hand, its surprisingly strong grasp barley wrapping all the way around the digit. The dark haired woman looked from the baby to China with an expression of pensiveness. No doubt she was speculating on what his silence meant. She pressed her lips together and then presented her rescuer with a smile. "I wouldn't ask this of anybody, you know?"

China stared at her with puckered brows. The statement had caught him by surprise.

Once again (after receiving no verbal response) she persisted on. "You have some kind of aura to you. It's kind of like... majestic." She explained, moving her hands limply through the air, trying to gesture to some unseen force. "It gives me the feeling I can trust you with Niu."

"Niu?" China finally voiced something.

"That's her name." Tung-Mei looked lovingly to her offspring. "Niu Avril Clavier."

"That sounds like a very western name," The nation huffed touchily, "apart from Niu of course, aru." He did feel slightly insulted that a Chinese woman should not choose a completely Chinese name for her daughter. He did not like all the new things western society brought to him, names being one of them, despite some technology and ideas from the countries being of use.

She hummed a laugh, with a melancholy sheen to her eyes. "It is, isn't it?" She noticed China's sour expression and added, almost as if she had read his thoughts. "I want you to give her a very traditional upbringing but do not let her become prejudice towards other cultures. I want her to embrace new things yet still be proud of her nationality."

"I haven't even agreed yet, aru. And even if I were to who's to say you would die? Do I have to keep telling you that you're not going to die?"

"No... I get it. I'm not going to die." She responded wearily, although she didn't sound entirely convinced. Really, it sounded like she wanted him to shut up. "Can you just say you'll look after her anyway? It'll make me feel better."

"Alright, aru!" China sniffed grudgingly. "If that will help you recover then... I promise."

"Thank you."

And for the first time she looked truly content.

Edited: 19.02.16