*Italicized paragraphs are flashbacks to their lives as countries.
*Bold and Italicised were just the lyrics to the song.

A singular fragment of white laid against the expanse of mahogany surface that was the debriefing table. However, the make shift room, consisting of tasteless green fabric in replacement of insulated walls, remained vacant of its personnel. Patiently it awaited its intended's return, a circular crimson seal marking its urgency. Delicate black streaks of foreign code are the only other thing which marr its cover. The abandoned unopened letter whose address simply read: China.

"Aiyaa!" A high pitched male voice cries suddenly, the noise echoing throughout the room.

Snickering can be heard around him as the young man clutches the top of his head with a slender, almost feminine hand. Ebony eyes gaze angrily up at the cerulean cover of a Global History text book identical to the one which lay haphazardly open upon his desk. A few discolored spots riddle its pages, a testament of former naps and daydreams.

"Now that you're awake Yao, would you like to join the rest of the class on paragraph five of page three hundred seventy two?" The authoritative voice left no room for argument, and its owner went as far as to observe every page turned until compliance. Of course Yao obeyed, though begrudgingly, as one did not cross Mr. Covell without expecting to waste hours of their life in detention reciting the boring details of the Treaty of Versailles.

After being sure his demands were met, the teacher gave an approving nod and returned to the lesson, which undoubtedly was being ignored by most of the students that bothered attending.

Yao gave another gentle rub at his scalp, ensuring there was no growing bump slowly surfacing from beneath his proud charcoal hair. His slender, pale fingers ran through the long strands which hung loosely on either side of his, currently bored, face before returning to his desk. Though many often made unpleasant comments regarding its length, many of which were simply attempted blows to his masculinity, Yao was perfectly content with his hair pulled back by exactly two crimson bands, its color and length proof of his Chinese origins.

"Slacker..." The boy from the seat next to him commented between bites of a steamed dumpling he'd likely smuggled out of his lunch bag. He looked to be the same age as Yao, but he knew for a fact that the brunnette, with his arms laying lifelessly at his side and legs propped unceremoniously on his desk, was in fact at least two years younger than himself.

"You're one to talk, aru!" He scolded with a glare at his estranged cousin, Koaru. Though his argument was already disproven just by the fact that Kaoru was even participating in an upperclassman subject at his age. Though he seemed lazy, surely it must mean he was brilliant when it came to his assignments, either that or he bribed the teacher somehow.

"Yao-yao is lucky though. I'm betting English text book would be hurting worse," added a heavy accented voice to his other side, and Yao turned his head to glare at the tall Russian this time. For the life of him he couldn't understand how Ivan even fit the description of a teenager, as he towered over everyone, even the teacher of the class. He had platinum hair and he constantly wore a scarf with his uniform, though no one bothered to stop him from breaking dress code. His broken english coupled with his accent and his sadistic sense of humor led to an instant hatred of him from Yao, and just as luck would have it Ivan took an instant liking to him.

"Aiyaa..." Yao let out a heavy sigh at his own misfortune of being seated between these two at the back of the class of all places. It wasn't his fault though! He wasn't a bad student per se, but of all of the classes throughout the school day he just had to choose Mr. Covell's to fall asleep in constantly. It was only because he knew the material already though! Or at least he thought so, but the marks on his reports told otherwise.

Resting his cheek on his palm in another fit of boredom, his eyes wandered lazily about the room. A few seats ahead of him sat the notorious trio whom spent the class passing notes and snickering loudly at one another. He couldn't hep but roll his eyes, honestly wondering if perhaps all of their teachers had simply given up on trying to get them to pay attention to lectures. Most didn't even expect them to graduate from here and wondered why they hadn't dropped out already, since all they were interested in watching was the backsides of the girls down the school hallways. God forbid a female drop their pencil in a room with them.

Further ahead, towards the center of the room and off to the left by the window seats, sat the obnoxious American. A headache instantly started pounding at him when he thought of the month and a half of lunch money he had yet to repay. Worst of all was the fact that he kept asking for more, and Yao, for whatever reason always complied but demanded payment that he never received. He didn't know why he bothered with the idiot doodling in his notebook, since he constantly claimed that he was losing his wallet everywhere when it was likely buried in a weeks worth of dirty laundry piling on his bedroom floor.

Finally his attention made it to the front of the class, purposely skipping over most other students and especially a certain Brit that he had gotten into a fight with during his middle school years. He still never forgave the shaggy blonde over the petty argument. Next to him however rested a familiar head of raven hair, cut in a simplistic humble style which rested just above her petite shoulders, peaking out above her desk boldly, though she was anything but. Sakura, the prim and proper top student, the teacher's pet, the Student Council President's younger sister, and also Yao's neighbor that he's happened to have known since she could walk.

Normally, that was all she was, just a neighbor he walked home with at the request of her elder brother to keep her from any danger, though there never was any. And more often than not he simply mooched off of her bike on early mornings when he didn't have the energy to walk. Thankfully her bike could easily fit the two of them. Still, something had changed recently, though he was sure it was purely on his side.

It wasn't a crush, no that was far too cliche to have feelings with the neighbor girl you'd known almost all of your life. They barely even saw or acknowledged one another besides the walks to and from school anyway. Sure, they were still classified as friends, but no matter how hard anyone tried, they all had to accept that she was simply too in love with her studies above all else to focus on relationships. That, and he knew that if a boy so much as touched her she'd glow bright red and shove them away, except for him of course but again that was just a result of knowing one another so long.

No, what he had begun to feel was like some sort of nostalgia, or maybe melancholy when he so much as glanced at her from across the room or walked home with her. His entire class time was now spent daydreaming or pondering this mystery rather than studying, and the walks to and from school had become increasingly more silent. The development didn't seem to have affected her at all though, besides a few lectures on his grades.

Yes, Sakura was completely unphasable by everything... or maybe not? Yao sat in utter shock for a moment as he thought he spied a C of all things marked on the accursed paper that was Monday's pop quiz. He was accustomed to seeing the letter on his own grades, but never on the precious top student's! He had an urge to tease her about it, if only to pick up his own self esteem about his constant wavering marks, but it was overpowered by the big brotherly instinct to reveal the meaning behind this sudden drop.

Waiting until the bell rang to end class, Yao packed away his books quickly, merely tossing them inside and shutting it as best he could. He didn't have time to worry about if he had packed the English project they had due this Friday, he wanted to catch Sakura before anyone else offered to bring her home while her brother spent ungodly hours at the school. There wasn't usually, but there were days here and there where she preferred the company of other girls rather than his on the way to her home, even if they were neighbors.

He sped to the front doors only to find his energy completely wasted since she had already fetched her bike and so kindly waited by the entrance for him to accompany her. "Xièxiè," He thanked her almost breathlessly and with a very annoyed look on his face, which was simply the result of him scolding himself for being so dimwitted.

"Hai..." She simply replied and he thought he caught a sigh at the end signaling the fact that this was completely expected of his character. It annoyed him, but only a little, seeing as he was the only one besides her brother that she was even slightly informal with.

The walk was filled with the routine awkward silence, the slight whirring of the bicycle wheels rolling down the pavement alongside Sakura's feet being the only sound around them, well other than a few students that lived in this general direction.

"So... want to talk about that C, aru?" Smooth, very subtle way of approach. He almost wanted to smack himself for being so outright blunt about such a thing, especially since as far as he knew other than anime, grades were her pride and joy.

Sakura noticeably tensed for a moment, but was fairly convincing in pretending the action had never occurred as she continued walking. It almost seemed like she was purposely not meeting him eye to eye. "I just didn't study enough." She replied simply.

He immediately caught the fact that it was a lie, which was peculiar because she never seemed to lie to him. She never had reason to lie before. "You study every day, aru! I'm surprised you haven't graduated already!" He nagged, though more jokingly now to try to lift this suddenly heavy atmosphere.

"Just leave it be, I shall take care of it." Sakura replied, obviously wanting the subject dropped. The joke wasn't completely lost on her though, despite the straight face she was putting on at the moment.

Yao made the extra effort despite how tired he was to pull ahead of her and smile down at her. "You better, aru! Or you're pedaling me to school for a week!" It was an empty threat, but he was very satisfied with the results when she smiled back at him.

"We shall see..." She answered, but the look on her face said that she accepted his challenge. Though she might seem delicate, Sakura certainly had the will power to accomplish anything any man three times her size could do, or so Yao always believed. She had beat the Vice President in grades and ran the Otaku club at school almost single handedly, that counted for something right?

They parted ways as they always did in front of their houses, Yao opting for the faded red house on the left that belonged to the Wang family, who unfortunately could not move their large traditional home to this modern suburb. He could already hear his elder sister Chun-Yan home from her day at University to pester his poor parents whilst making dinner. Sakura went to the typical white house on the right, or rather it's one car garage to place her bike inside, the Hondas having adjusted to more modern and westernized culture much better than his family had. Still, living next to another Asian family seemed to help them cope, and him he supposed since he preferred their company over some others in this town.

Wanting to avoid the family turmoil that was every night's meal it seemed, Yao used his slender, agile frame to his advantage in order to sneak upstairs without being heard. He immediately escaped to his bedroom, with his laptop and headphones waiting invitingly on the almost military green comforter of his bed. The room was a deep red, decorated with the typical manly chinese dragons upon its walls, and stacks of various teenage apparel scattered messily throughout. The only thing that might seem out of place was his entire corner filled with Hello Kitty merchandise, which he always stuffed in his closet or under his bed if anyone wanted entry into his room.

He sprawled out rather unceremoniously onto his bed, letting his bag fall where it may. Hearing the high pitched ear splitting noise of his sister's complaining even from in his room, he snatched a Hello Kitty pillow to bury his face in as he set the headphones over his ears. It would likely be a while before dinner, and he had no doubt that they'd come yelling for him loud enough to wake the dead, so he let himself drift off to lower his chances a little of falling asleep in Global once again tomorrow.

It was over, finally the sino-japanese war had come to an end, and a grateful smile came to the country's lips. Though his land was scorched, his ports and cities bombed and after watching so many slaughtered before him, he, no his people had managed to evict the Japanese soldiers from their shores. Clutching the shaft of the symbol of his country to hold him steady, his eyes, those which were wise and heavy with the burden of having lived so long, looked over the injured being carried from the desolate field as if they were his very own children, and for a nation they were.

Many of them shared wounds much like his own, his entire midsection wrapped in bandages from being struck with shrapnel from a nearby mine going off, the tendon in his other arm having been sliced from combat, and a gash across his head. Still among the pain he felt for them, pride swelled so much so inside his chest that he felt completely numb to the agony he should feel from his injuries. He vaguely heard someone call out to him, but he couldn't bother to strain his ears to attempt to hear when he knew it would be impossible. He was busy looking upon the country his people would rebuild decades from now, and imagining how brilliant it would be. Perhaps... he'd even bring her there one day.

A sudden weight made his limbs convert to lead and he fell to his knees, the smile never leaving his face as at the same moment an unspeakable burden flew from his very heart, his very self. The sensation of such weightlessness left him laying upon the ground, and a great exhaustion overtaking him. A voice calling to him deep within, promising him rest for all that he has done. Yes, his people could continue without his guidance, for he had witnessed first hand their capabilities, but a thought came to mind before the spark of wisdom left his eyes, which were never to open again, and he spoke it in a breathless whisper, "Japanko..."

He could hear her now, calling out to him, humoring his ridiculous interests and ambitions, asking him to attend the flower viewing festival, comparing their country's legends underneath the moonlight. But most of all, he'd never forget the look on her face when he had announced his full participation in the war effort. She had cried for him, which was a gift in itself. She gave him the gift of humanity, of feeling if only in those moments with her more than he had felt in centuries of locking himself away. He had only wished then... only wished that they might ever be more than China and Japan.

One More Try

Can We Start Again?

Can We Start Again?

Yao awoke with a start, his poor hello kitty damp with cold sweat, and the pounding in his ears had nothing to do with the music blaring. He cursed at the lyrics, wondering why he even had such a song on his playlist, and tossed his headphones aside. "Japanko..." He whispered again, and he clutched at the shirt of his uniform making sure that it was still the same starch white as when he fell asleep and not dyed red simply from that dream.

He could still feel the unsettling cold and numbness that made him want to wrap himself in the covers and snuggle his hello kitty plushie for warmth, but he couldn't bring himself to. He was still experiencing the aftershocks from trying to process if it had indeed been just a dream. It had been far too real, like an unpleasant memory that left a bitter taste on his tongue, even more so than that of poorly made green tea. He could almost think, no he was sure from the aching pain in his head and the odd feelings he had been getting lately, he was China.

More than that, he let the visions of the young woman who's name had been his final words wash over him, causing him to relax once again at the fragments of images and thoughts he'd been given. The young Japanese girl, donned in a kimono of gentle hues of salmon or violet. He could almost hear the petite girl's laughter, see her gentle smile, and feel her raven hair brush against his shoulder, as soft as silk. It was then that he ceased his thoughts, realization coming over him at what he was doing, comparing this girl he had met in some past life to that of Sakura. Why would he do that even? It wasn't as if he liked her in such a way as China obviously had Japanko. Still they looked so similar...

As if on cue, his elder sister came bursting into his room, no knock or warning, obviously just to interrupt any deep train of thought he might have at the moment. "Aiyaa! What are you doing sleeping when I made good food downstairs just for you?! Where's the gratitude?!" She complained, though Yao knew she didn't mean it. He wondered though if she might get married soon to go nag her husband instead of her poor brother.

Knowing she wouldn't leave until he listened, he groggily got up with a groan. The dream or possible memory left him physically sore. He tried his best not to let his family see though as it would only lead to more unnecessary screeching from both his mother and his sister this time. "Whatever, aru. Let's just go eat."

Yao spent the next few days, or rather history classes and the few hours peace he got in his room in the evenings, trying to piece together everything involving the dream he had had. The more he thought about China, the more the faces of every one of his classmates seemed so familiar, and he had even almost yelled America at Alfred when yelling for his repayment for lunch money for the third time this month. Was everyone at his school once a country? How could they all not remember?!

However the more he thought about it, the more lost in his thoughts he became, especially in regards to Sakura. No matter how he tried, he couldn't separate her from the literal girl of his dreams, and he found his stares more lingering on her, and his cheeks flaring to life if she happened to catch him with a questioning look. But he also had noticed, without her meaning to he was sure, that she had been avoiding eye contact almost as long as he'd begun staring. He had heard her grades had been slipping as well, and now that he mentioned it she was a bit off lately.

Avoiding eye contact soon turned into purposely avoiding him everywhere, even though they were neighbors, and they almost always walked together. No, more than that they had been friends since she was a little girl terrified of being all alone, to the point where Kiku would have his parents call him and he'd willingly sleep next to her, hugging her like the panda cubs he saw on tv until she slept. It left an empty feeling in the pit of his chest, whether she was his Japanko, whom he didn't know whether was alive or dead, or not didn't matter! He liked her too!

"Aiyaa! I'm such an idiot, aru!" He shouted and practically smacked himself over the head this time.

The truth of the matter hit him like a ton of bricks, which was something someone should have done sooner if he knew it would take so long for him to realize. He'd looked after her and watched over her for so long... He knew everything she liked, teased her with things she hated, and above all loved to see her polite smiles, or her rare laughter which sounded like wind chimes in summer. He liked her... and whether he was Yao or China, that wasn't about to change!

Now, Yao was not one to back down from something like this, though granted he'd never actually confessed to a girl before was a bit of an issue. The greater issue though was how to confess to a girl that literally rather jump over the back fence by the school's sports field rather than walk the same route as you for a moment. It was so frustrating! Was his staring really that creepy?! He thought that was normal for crushes!

After yet another school day and a few consultation meetings with Panda over the possible outcomes of this disastrous idea of his, he did the unspeakable. No, he didn't skip Mr. Covell's class as that spelled detention. He did much worse, leaving right in the middle of it and bolting out the door for the exit, which ultimately he knew would be signing his death warrant. Still, it was an emergency! Or at least in his opinion.

This time he waited, right by her bike so she couldn't possibly avoid him. He didn't quite count on her ability to ignore him though. She simply unlocked her bike chain and started walking away before the words he wanted managed to form from his nervous mouth. He followed her though, and it almost felt like it was any other day, before his life had become so confusing and he was questioning how he could be an entire country in a past life.

As he was formulating how he was going to word his confession, she startled him by suddenly coming to a stop. "Why...? Why won't you leave me alone?" She asked him, her voice quivering a bit. Did she really want him gone so badly...? What had he done?

"Sakura, I..." He tried to confess or give an explanation, but the words died in his throat as he noticed how violently she began shaking, her knuckles whitening from how hard she gripped the florescent pink handles of her bike.

"I just want to be left alone, China!" She blurted out, loud enough for the neighborhood to hear almost, but of course no one would listen to the ramblings of a teenage girl. Well, that was except for Yao.

His eyes widened at how she had known, though she seemed to harbor a great regret for having said such a thing. He realized it then, as he took hold of her wrist, dropping the bike with a clang, and held her close, that she was his Japanko. She must have seen it just as he had, seen herself die in some merciless way all alone, only pride in her country left to soften the blow.

She didn't resist his hold, in fact she found it more warm and comforting than anyone who had ever attempted to touch her before. For this was Yao, and the comforting hand on her back, rubbing small circles with his thumb was as familiar to her as her own. "It's alright, I won't leave now aru. Not again, Japanko..." He spoke softly and she took a small sharp intake of breath, a few tears escaping her eyes as her suspicions, the same ones that had kept her awake all night and from studying, had all been proven true.

Gently he lifted her tearstained face to gaze up at him, and the sight pierced his very being with the same wish he had felt centuries ago, except this time that wish had been fulfilled. He delicately wiped the tears from her cheek as if they were made of precious crystal, the tears of the angel that he had been blessed to have been bestowed to guide them to this point. He hesitated, but only for a moment, before their breaths molded into one and he hopelessly defiled an angel with his very lips.

She had cried, and she had begged for him not to participate in the westerners war, but she was not foolish enough to not recognise that the war had already come to them. Fighting between the two nations that had once called themselves brothers, and in the case of the female counterpart of the nation of Japan, something akin to lovers. And there he was, as he always was, comforting her and wiping every tear away with his slender fingers. An exact replica of the scene which took place with their modern counterparts, though he had not been bold enough, or in his opinion worth enough, to take the lips of this young maiden. She was far too pure, too innocent to step foot near any battle field even if she possessed the soul of the great samurai within her.

There was no promise of return, either because of their uncertainty on the matter or their expectancy for this simple guideline to be followed. And just like that he was gone, sailing away from the shores of her island home, which lacked the warmth of two long sleeved male arms wrapped around her for comfort. She knew women of her nation were experiencing the same grief as she, husbands and lovers departing for the war effort, however she could not help but feel completely alone, devoid of the one factor which had brought balance and peace to her existence.

She often recalled their discussions of impending battles with western nations as they sat in the confines of the garden beneath the shade of the blossoming peach. He would speak with great pride and animation about his beloved country, from the architecture to the delicious food to the beauty of the night sky reflected upon the surface of the ports of China. And this she knew was his reason for going to war, to protect and preserve this wondrous place that he had promised to bring her some day.

The memory however made her think of her own country at war, her Nii-san's reasoning behind fighting alongside his brethren. She thought of the summer festivals, the villages riddled with flower bearing trees, the people carving their own walks of like, whether it be humble or competitive. Yes, she too loved this country, the one on which she had first laid eyes upon the tall stranger whom held her prayers, directly beneath the rising sun. And it was this thought, this love she held, that brought her the overwhelming ache to protect it as well. Her spirit flared as she raised the blade of her satana, and in one fell swoop, the silken strands littered the floor, concealing her femininity. The delicate eastern flower had finally bloomed to give way to the determined soldier standing there now.

However the life of a flower is known to be fleeting, and even as the blossom disguised itself as a hardened soldier, it could not escape its fate. She could recall the deafening gunfire overpowering the loud shouts made by the firing soldiers, the stinging smell of smoke filling her lungs and causing her to cough in her body's feeble attempt at replacing it with oxygen. Unfortunately with the smoke, a large quantity of blood, its taste metallic as it passed through her mouth, expelled with it. Her vision clouded as if a dense fog had overshadowed the battlefield, and consciously she wondered if a smoke bomb might have been thrown, or some other poisonous gas. However she didn't feel as if her eyes were melting from her skull as she'd heard it described, in fact she involuntarily began giggling to herself. As the image before her must have been a sign from above that it was finally over, either that or a mockery sent to torture her during her waking dreams. Still, she recognised all too well the smiling figure before her that extended its warm hand in invitation, and without any hesitation, she laid it upon his own, allowing herself to be led deep within the mist. "Aishiteru... China."

Weeks later, as the damage was surveyed along with the corpses of the fallen soldiers, an elder brother would pause before the assumed body of a young man whom had suffered a fatal gunshot wound directly through a major artery to the chest. Likely the boy had passed without realization that he had been killed so they had said, and the nation of Japan surely hoped so as he respectfully laid the sheet gently over the body of his beloved sister. Upon her passing a letter was written, the informative words upon the stationary soaking in the untold sorrow of its writer as tears fell upon its surface, smudging the ink in places. It was carefully sealed within an envelope, whose pristine clarity was marked with only a crimson seal, and the familiar Japanese characters for China.

Reluctantly they parted from one another, but Yao did not allow her to pull too far from his grasp. Never again did he ever want her so far from him as they had been once before, fighting for the sake of countless others. Now all he wanted to ever be concerned with was their own happiness. Gently he rested his forehead against her own, and chuckled at the light pink that dusted her cheeks.

"Hui lai le, aru." He told her gently, in a voice just above a whisper.

"Tadaima." She shyly returned.

Author's note: And so concludes the first, very long one shot of the Start Again series. I'm sure it goes without saying, however I do not own Hetalia, Nyotalia, the song Start Again by Red, or the cover image.

The idea was that during the Sino-Japanese War, both Japanko and China died for the sake of the country they cared about, having to put their countries before their love for one another. Japanko, being a woman however, was expected to stay behind and wait out the war, however China's willingness to fight for his country inspired her to do the same so she disguised herself as a man to fight and died on the battlefield. Japan was the one to discover it had been his sister, and his emotion overflowing from the loss wrote to China about it, who never got a chance to open the letter before he himself died as well.

*Both Hui lai le and Tadaima mean I'm home.

It's super long and it's feelsy, but hey this is my FIRST Hetalia One-shot and the pairing was done on a request! If you made it this far then I applaud you and hope you enjoyed it! Stay tuned for more of the Start Again series if you did!