Turn

A/N: EDIT 11/23/10: This is now the first oneshot in a series based off of Suzanne Ciani piano pieces. Hope you enjoy the ones that follow!

Summary: "Turn, like the seasons, turn back to me once again..." This was inspired by my relationship with my former best friend. I fell in love with him and he ended up breaking my heart. Rated K+ for angst.

I still remember, the first thing that struck me was his evident youth. In his stance, his expression—and Tian, those eyes—he possessed a vitality all of us lacked. His unique way of looking at the world made me smile for the first time in—well, too many years.

We saw each other often, as he visited Shandong regularly to check up on his people's work. It seemed he always had a smile just for me, and being with him made me happy like no one had before. It wasn't long before we both admitted our feelings.

We took a walk by the sea that day, hand-in-hand, just enjoying being together. Later, when the indigo sky sparkled with stars as bright as diamonds, we lay side by side in the sand, listening to the pulse of the waters, and he spoke of his homeland.

"It is beautiful there, though of course it cannot compare to this land," he said to me, in halting but clear Mandarin. "I could take you back home with me when I go this time," he offered. I chuckled softly, touched by his offer. "Would your brother approve?"

He smiled warmly, his eyes lighting up, clear and blue as the sea. "My brother would very much like to have someone else in the house," he said, brushing his lips lightly across my cheek.

He ended up teaching me his language. I caught on quickly—tongues had never really been a problem for me. Before long, he went through with his offer and took me back to his land for a few months—that was the longest my leader could let me visit.

I saw his brother as a slightly too loud and arrogant person, though he possessed a certain inner light that could brighten any room he walked into. The land they shared was charming, and being there felt like the heaven the Westerners always talked about. Three months passed in a whirlwind of exhilarated bliss, and too soon, I had to leave.

I didn't know then, but I would never see him this way again.

Less than ten years later, my people rebelled, and forced him out of Shandong. The official cessation treaty was signed in the Summer Palace. Afterwards, I came across him in the gardens, watching the brightly-colored carp—a gift from my easternmost little brother—swim around and around in one of the small ponds.

He jumped when I called his name. When he realized who it was, he bowed, coolly polite. "China," he said flatly, surprising me with his use of Mandarin. I was speechless for a few moments, distracted by the ice in his voice, his eyes. "I'm sorry," I whispered in his language when I finally found my voice. I didn't dare look at his face.

He laughed—but this was not the carefree laugh I was used to. There was a strange, almost bitter edge to his voice when he spoke next. "Why are you even pretending to care? You never wanted me here. I could see that from the very first moment."

My eyes widened in shock. He stood completely still, watching me with an unfathomable expression in his eyes. Then as the shock wore off, I felt the inevitable anger roaring to the surface of my mind. I had always had a quick temper, though the millennia had calmed it some.

"Traitor," I hissed, still in his language. "You've just been using me this whole time, haven't you?" I didn't wait for him to respond. I didn't need a response. The guilt that was so clear in his eyes was enough. "Get out."

Several emotions fought for control in his expression. I thought I recognized shock and…pain, but they each only lasted for a half-second. His face was back to the bitter, frigid mask it had been earlier before five seconds had passed.

"All right then…binglong." Ice dragon. It was Russia's nickname for me. He knew how I hated to be called that, by anyone.

I ground my teeth together. "Don't push your luck," I warned him, the foreign words burning my mouth as I spoke them. His eyes narrowed, and then he turned and walked away without a backward glance.

He is such a perfect gentleman, isn't he?

I scoff at this. He was just another pretender, like all the rest. No one sees what I hide inside myself—the betrayal, the heartbreak, the tears. No one knows that I even care.

I wish I didn't. I would give almost anything to return to the perfect friendship we had before the world got in the way.

Somehow, I can't think of him as the cold, heartless nation everyone else sees. I can't hate him, even though I am probably the nation with the most reason to, even more than Russia.

He was—still is—like a brother to me. But I can never be anything to him.

A/N: Virtual cupcake for anyone who knows the second nation (China's lover). Reviews are love~