Hey hey dudes and dudettes! This story is about China's little angst moment as recalls how japan treated him during the war. Disclaimer: me no own hetalia. Enjoy and review!
All I Want
All China wanted was to forget. Forget everything that had happened since the day Japan invaded him. All the pain and misery. He had cared so much for the younger nation, and still did, but all he had left were scars from the bitter war between them.
Time Skip
China sighed. Another meeting wasted. He could still feel the tension between the two groups. Axis and Allies. He sat with the Allies, while the country that haunted his nightmares sat with the Axis. The war was just over but there was still tensions.
The meeting broke up, and he turned to leave. The memories that came from being in the same room as Japan was torture enough. Just as he was about to leave, both the memories and the empty room, he felt a hand touch his shoulder.
"China...may I speak with you?"
He stiffened. Perhaps the room was not empty as he had thought. He would recognize that soft voice anywhere, even when it was laced with sadness and regret. Japan, the one who stalked his nightmares and haunted his thoughts.
He turned slowly, to come face to face with his tormentor, the very person he wanted to avoid. Japan was looking at the ground like it held the world's secrets written on it.
"What do you want?" He asked, knowing the answer.
Japan looked up, panic flashing across his face briefly.
"I wish to apologize for my actions. I was wrong to turn on you. I pushed you too far in my selfish quest. For that, I am sorry," Japan said, his voice pleading,"will you forgive me?"
" I may forgive but, but I can never forget. Even if we prayed for a thousand years the the war never happened, that we would never need to be here today, it will never happens. Anymore than wishing that the scar on my back will disappear," he said, his voice emotionless, his face stone.
Japan winced slightly at the look on his face, the frost that laced his voice. He knew that look. He had seen it many times in the war. Even though it was as blank and cold as sleet, it spoke of regret and misery, of sorrow and rage. A yearning for it all to be a bad dream. It spoke of disappointment and even a small need for vengeance. Japan knew that he was asking too much for China to forgive him after all the anguish he had caused him.
"I am asking too much of you. I did. It expect you to forgive me. But at least know that I am sorry for everything," he stated," the samurai speak of loyalty, but I have shown none of that," he said, with a voice full self-loathing.
And with a bitter laugh, he left the now empty room, leaving China to mourn the past, tears he had held back streaming down his face.