Nat: Alright, so this is my first fic in a while, so I hope it turns out to be a good one. Gahhh, anyways review please~ (I'll start working on ch.1 soon!)
Spoiler: China finishes up some work and receives a phone call that he doesn't particurally like.
Warnings: Uhmm...angst maybe?
Disclaimer: Natsuko does not own APH. **sadface**
The man let out a sigh as he finished calculating his country's finances for about the hundredth time now. His bosses had been very demanding of him on the subject, insisting there was a major problem that needed to be fixed. They suggested that the man organize and store all current stocks and bonds immediately.
As far as Yao could see, everything was in perfect order with his country's economy and there was nothing to indicate otherwise. He would know if his people were facing a crisis. He always knew. For a brief moment he wondered what his bosses' true plans were. What was something they would want to keep him in the dark about?
A sinking feeling began to form in the pit of his stomach and Yao pushed himself away from his desk in disgust. When was the last time he had even considered that option? Would his bosses even go that far? The Chinese man felt the flicker of cold calculation pass behind his eyes and Yao pictured himself crawling through trenches, bloodstained and dirty.
The familiar ring of his cell phone pulled him from his daze. Without hesitation, he picked it up and hit the talk button.
"Wèi, aru?" he answered.
His bosses' deep voice sounded on the other line and Yao listened carefully to the man's words. The conversation was short and strictly professional. After about a minute and a half, Yao hung up without another word. He would deal with any punishment later for his rudeness, but right now he needed to sit. When was the last time he was called to the front lines?
Yao felt the heavy bags start to form under his eyes as all those years of his life came rushing back to him. Silently he glanced over at the picture on his desk and smiled. Surrounding him in the photograph were the four other members of his family. He wondered how everyone was. Yao was always so wrapped up in political affairs; he never really got the chance to talk any of them except Kiku. Now he wondered if he'd even have the chance to do that anymore.
It had been far too long since Yao had gone to war. He wondered if he could ever fight like that again. Not that he doubted his own strength, but he had grown quite comfortable to his current life. In all honesty, he would have preferred to go on living this way for the rest of his life, but his bosses were now expecting him to do otherwise.
The Chinese man pushed himself up off the desk again and walked over to a far corner of the room where a highly decorated chest stood proudly. Placing his hands on either side of the lid, Yao triggered some secret mechanism that caused the latch on the front to unhook. Slowly he opened the chest, revealing what was his most prized collection of weapons.
Reaching in, he pulled out the pair of his old sickles and turned them over in his hand. The last time he'd been forced to use these things was during the Second World War Yao's frown deepened. During that time, he'd proudly fought alongside the Allies, defending his nation from the threat Japan posed, now he'd have to betray one of his closest friends.
He tucked the pair of his weapons back into the chest and locked it tight. He was going to need more than simple blades for this particular fight. Yes, this was going to require some heavy ammunition indeed. Yao walked back toward his desk, taking his place at the window behind it. Thoughtfully he gazed out at the city's lighted streets, taking them in. When this was all over, he knew, both sides would face major loss.
Yao shook his head again and sucked in a breath. "I hope you're prepared for this America, my old friend. Because things are about to get very, very ugly."