1940

Dear China,

It has been a year since the Axis Powers and your Allied Forces have declared war on each other. I am not supposed to be writing to you. I am not supposed to speak your name. I am not supposed to tell you anything. But you are my brother, are you not? I have a small request that will require us to break the rules of both parties… Please… could you write to me, all the way through until this madness of war ends? I miss you.

Sincerely, Japan

I've watched over Japan since he was just a little child. I remembered how he had come up with a load of nonsense when I had attempted to teach him how to write Chinese. I never thought that the seemingly random squiggles of ink on rice paper would become a language of its own; furthermore, I had never imagined that he'd grow up to become such a strong nation of his own.

Sighing, I folded the letter back into its envelope. Should I reply to him? It's been a year since I had seen my little brother. I knew that the Allied Forces would be moving at a rapid pace, and the Axis Powers would act accordingly. All my comrades were powerful, armed and were all dedicated to the total destruction of the opposition group Japan was in.

I was well armed with a large army under my command. With this added to the other large armies belonging to America, England, France and Russia, we wouldn't have problems eliminating the other three nations. Actually, we could only say that there were two active nations. Italy was, really, just a pawn used to raise the white flag to signal defeat. He seemed more than willing to take that post too. We could win effortlessly and rather swiftly if England didn't delay his plans any longer. From the last meeting we had, America had been gearing up to go. France didn't show his enthusiasm as readily as the younger nation, but his eyes glowed like there were tiny sparks bursting to life within the blue orbs. Russia sat there with this smile which was supposed to say I'll force them to become one with me if they come near us, da? Everybody was ready, and they say that people are influenced by their surroundings.

So why… why am I so hesitant to go all out in this war alongside my allies?

Gritting my teeth, I felt a fresh wave of pain as I reopened a recent wound in my palm when my nails bit into the flesh.

"Bloody civil war," I muttered, nursing the wound by gently pressing my mouth over the bleeding flesh.

Leaving the room to find medication, I forgot about the existence of Japan's letter.

1942

Dear China,

How are you? This is a rather ironic question. You have not even bothered replying to my letters. It has been two years, brother, and I know I should abide by the rules I decided to break. I despise you, brother. But yet, I cannot bring myself to stop writing these pointless letters to you. We really cannot talk about anything under the sun like how we used to be able to. Having said all this like a bitter old man, I still cannot stop missing you… I suppose I am the foolish one after all.

Sincerely, Japan

I smiled bitterly as I crumpled the letter. He despised me. My younger brother, of all people.

Flinging the scrunched up ball behind me, I inclined in my chair on two legs. The sky was so blue. It looked so large and free – a devoid of worries.

"So have you replied?"

I nearly fell off my chair as France picked up the balled up letter. "He seemed willing enough to break the rules, so why don't you?"

Standing up, I marched over to snatch the letter from the Frenchman's hands. "Isn't it obvious? I'm not supposed to," I hissed.

"Oh, but I think in days as cold as these it's good to find a source of comfort, my dear China," France snickered and grasped onto one of my hands, "I'd take great delight into replying Japan's letters."

"Are you testing me?" I frowned, not bothering to wrench myself from France's grasp. It's pointless to struggle, I learnt, against nations with a bigger build than myself.

"Non," France brushed his lips against the surface of my hand, "I'm merely just seeing how strongly you regard you position as an older brother."

As I snapped my hand away from the Frenchman, the latter raised his head, his azure eyes sparkling dangerously

"Don't confuse yourself and side with the enemy," France warned, retreating into the hallway. "No matter what, you must not reply Japan's letters. This line comes from England and America. If they find out, heaven knows what they'll do to you."

The European's flirtatious, playful tone was gone. I hated his gaze. It burned, like he was looking at a wretched traitor.

"Keep your nose clean, China. I'll be watching you."

I was afraid that France would tell on me, but neither England nor America said a word during our lunch meeting. After the French nation had left, I had proceeded to stuff the letters into my pillowcase. I changed the sheets myself, and it wasn't very probable that England would want to stick his head into my pillow to see if I had anything suspicious.

I wasn't going to write to Japan. It was out of the question, yet I couldn't get it out of my head. I found my mind wandering back to the two worn pieces of paper in my pillowcase which had my younger brother's feelings marked on it. That's why when England called on me to state my opinion, I found myself lost for words. England and slightly furrowed his startlingly (and intimidatingly so) bushy brows at me, shooting me a puzzled look.

"It's not like you to doze off in a meeting, China," he had stated kindly, "but still, I guess this war puts a strain on everybody. Even I'm feeling it."

"You don't feel it at all," I murmured, throwing myself onto my bed. The crackling sound of the papers being squashed startled me as my head hit the pillow. Sighing, I flipped the cushion over. Placing a hand underneath the thin fabric, I gently traced the edges of the papers. The bumps of the creases of the paper felt all too much like the physical scars I carried with me; painful reminders of the past. Maybe this would become one.

Dear China,

I am at loss as to why you do not reply. Brother, I do not despise you anymore. There is this burning hate you have kindled within my heart that refuses to go away, no matter how much water I pour on it. I tell myself that we are no longer brothers in this situation, and that you clearly do not feel that way either. So now I will tell you and severe our relationship. We are no longer brothers. We are enemies. Since you do not bother returning any of my feelings, I should not either. You have willingly forsaken your brother in this living hell – no, we were never even brothers to begin with. China, this will be the last you hear of me, and in case we do meet on the battlefields, I will not hesitate to kill. You should not hesitate either, and I am sure that you will be able to convince your pitiful black heart to slay me without any mercy.

China, heed my words.

I

DESPISE

YOU

February 8th 1942 was the day when England returned, looking utterly defeated. He wouldn't speak to anybody and headed straight for his room. When the word finally got out, I learnt that England had lost the small island of Singapore.

This became a touchy subject, and England was unusually quiet during meetings and let America do all the warbling. Naturally, it was also the brainless America who raised the question that everybody had in their minds.

"Say, Iggy! Who exactly did you lose that lil' nation to?"

We all fell silent. I crossed my fingers, muttering an inaudible prayer that England wouldn't fly at America and tear his head off.

To my surprise, England just sighed irritatedly. "Lost it to Japan, you git," he growled, "when do you learn to read the damn news?"

"I'll learn to read it when you stop leaving the newspapers in your room and forbidding us to go inside," America raised an eyebrow, his arms folded.

"Right, right…"

I glared down at my lap. That fool Japan… he's won for now, but it wouldn't be long term. Germany's probably far more preoccupied than he should be, and Italy's virtually useless; on the other hand, England has America and France to fall back onto. They'll come raging back with vengeance, no doubt. What was he thinking?

Shifting uncomfortably, I raised my head to meet France's stare. The Frenchman let his gaze linger, as if to he were warning me, before sighing in an exaggerated way. "Japan hasn't got a shred of grace in that soul of his," France stated pompously, twirling a lock of his blonde hair. "Neither has he got any brains. America, what actions will you take to avenge your brother?"

When he added stress on the word 'brother', the whole table looked at him with a frown, wondering if it was a French thing to put stresses on the last word in a question. They didn't understand.

I did.

That idiot… he was testing my loyalty yet again. Curling my toes up in my boots, I tried to keep a perfectly blank face. France was trying to see if I would betray the Allied Forces if they attacked Japan. I didn't care. I wanted them to attack Japan. I wanted them to rip Japan to shreds and crush the Axis Powers…

…do I? Do I truly, honestly, want this?

Grimacing, I felt my forehead thump against the wooden table. This was getting more and more complicated, and I had an unfavourable mindset.

"Are you ok?"

I rolled my head slightly to the left to face my speaker.

Dammit, Russia's face was far too close to mine for comfort.

"Couldn't be better," I mumbled sarcastically.

Before Russia had a chance to counter my statement, America had stood up, a determined look gleaming in his blue eyes.

"I've decided that my revenge will wait," the blonde stated clearly, "Japan will certainly pay, but it's only a matter of time before those three fall hard and bite the dust." With that, the American exited the room.

That night, I found myself wondering what Singapore was like. I had never seen her before, and she was a rather small thing it seemed. Still, she must have played a decently important role if England was this troubled. Singapore, being under an Allied nation, would undoubtedly be tortured by Japan for a long time to come. If our forces didn't act quickly, the Japanese Occupation would last longer than it should. Lives that shouldn't be lost would have turned into nothing but distant dreams.

Oddly, I didn't find myself worrying for Singapore. Instead, I found myself thinking about Japan again; reliving all the centuries we had spent together before this mess arrived.

8 August 1945

America had finally taken action after three long, blood-stained years. I woke up earlier than usual that morning because of the painful throbbing coming from deep within the muscle of my right forearm.

As I slid out of bed, my knees buckled beneath the weight of my body and I fell onto the ground. Growling with annoyance, I heaved myself off the dirt floor and wobbly made my way to Russia's tent to see if the other nation had awoken, grabbing my sword along the way.

I hadn't been able to sleep much in the past few days. It wasn't the fact that I was being teamed up with that creep of a Russia, but rather because I knew Japan was somewhere out there – beyond the battlefield – badly wounded. I remember just two days before; America had ruthlessly dropped a single atomic bomb onto my younger brother's city of Hiroshima. This action excited Russia, who declared war on Japan two days later. Being an ally, I was forced to join the Soviet Union as we tore our way through Manchuria.

Making my way across the campus, I heard the groans of wounded soldiers from all the nations as they squirmed under medical care. The numbers of the Japanese soldiers should definitely be dropping drastically, and the end was near.

I heard the soldier on guard give a sharp cry as he spotted a charging army. Around me, men rushed out armed with guns and all sorts of deadly machinery. Pushing my way to the front of the crowd, I took a deep breath and drew my blade from its sheath. As I closed my eyes, the scent of dust and sweat filled my nostrils; when I opened them, I didn't see the men of my younger brother. I only saw an enemy that I wanted to beat down and crush utterly.

9 August 1945

As if America had sensed the fighting spirit rising from Manchuria, I was notified by Lithuania that yet another atomic bomb had been dropped on Japan.

As the nation stared at me intently with worried green eyes, I kept my face carefully blank and thanked him for the piece of news.

Lithuania paused as he was about to exit the flap of my tent. Turning around to face me, he offered me a tired smile. "Don't worry, it'll all be over soon... Japan won't be able to hold up much longer."

Regardless of what Lithuania had said, the Japanese soldiers seemed optimistic enough, charging mercilessly at us in the battlefield. Slicing my way through rows of soldiers, I hacked down a man who had been targeting Russia's back. The larger nation could fare well enough by himself, but it didn't hurt to be cautious.

I didn't see the thumbs up that the violet-eyed nation gave me, immediately springing off to cover another weaker nation's back. Lithuania wasn't a very skilled fighter, and he left his flank exposed. Positioning myself back to back with him, I groaned as a large group of enemy soldiers closed in on us.

"China, you shouldn't burden yourself with me," I heard the taller nation whisper as he fired a round of shots at a handful of soldiers. Pressing myself tightly against the back of Lithuania, I sucked in my breath as I slashed a soldier across his stomach. "Your tactics are flawed," I stated, "I need to cover your back. Besides…"

Dodging as a man lunged at me, Lithuania fired through the man's head and he fell to the ground as limp as a rag doll.

"…I don't think I'll be able to stand the burden of losing another person whom I care about."

I felt Lithuania's surprised gaze on my back as I sprung forth to hack the soldiers in front of me. In fact, I surprised myself with that last line. Where it came from, I had no idea. Gritting my teeth, I knew that I no longer cared about the identity of the person whom I cut. It was just going to be one in the millions of pitiful lives lost in this bloody war. My physical body was on the battlefield, but my mind had floated off somewhere else. I only realized this when knives were flung at an enemy soldier creeping up on me. Turning around to face Belarus, she gave me a disgusted glare as she retrieved her knives from the body.

"China, if you want to survive this hell hole, you'd better shape up," she said dangerously. "I would kill you if I could right now, seeing how pitiful you look." Belarus' light blonde hair fluttered in the hair as she dashed forward to thrust her knife into an enemy's chest.

"…Your brother isn't going to die, you know. He's a smart one."

I glanced up; surprised by this strangely kind line from such a cold nation, but Belarus was gone.

The battle closed fairly quickly, and both sides were exhausted. I carried a wounded soldier on my back as I trudged my way back to the campus.

Nearly all the tents were wrecked, and all the wounded had to be fitted into the remaining ones that had survived the ordeal. Quite a number of medics had been lost, and I had to carry out medical duties alongside several unscathed others who practiced medicine.

When I passed Belarus in the halls, she hadn't registered my existence and simply walked past me as if I were air.

"Hey."

I spun around, spotting Belarus. She stood outside one of the newly put up tents, hesitantly holding up a flap.

"Don't worry yourself."

And she disappeared within the mass of canvas. Maybe she did have a heart somewhere under that icy, terrifying exterior after all.

Japan was no doubt, badly injured. He had stopped writing his hate letters to me since the first bombing, and I naturally assumed that his arm had been affected. However, as I was about to plop myself onto the makeshift bed of torn clothes, Latvia popped his head into the folds of my tent.

I resisted the urge to strangle the smaller nation for disturbing me, but the large teary eyes made me think otherwise.

"Um… Mr. China?" the seemingly perpetually terrified nation couldn't meet my piercing gaze from across the tent. In his trembling hand, he held up an envelope, its surface crumpled brown from the dirt. "This was passed to me… but I think it's for you since I couldn't read the language or anything… ah! I mean, I didn't open it or anything, I swear! It's just that the person wrote your name in another language on the cover…"

Beads of tears rolled from the marble-like eyes of Latvia as they dampened the dirt beneath him.

Snapping up, I marched over and snatched the letter from Latvia as he instinctively backed away. I felt pity for my ally who was constantly terrified by Russia, but I wasn't in the mood to entertain others' feelings.

"Thanks, but I'd appreciate it if you gave me some privacy for now?" I gestured towards the exit of the tent. Latvia jumped before giving a slight bow and gratefully scurrying out of my personal space bubble.

I stared at the black of Latvia's steadily lengthening shadow before placing myself on the bundle of clothes. Kicking off my boots, I tore open the envelope and begun to read the letter.

Dear China,

I am not dead. Not that I care, but I know no matter how many hate letters I send to you, you will still worry for my wellbeing. It is quite sickening, knowing that my older brother can never see of me as in independent nation. I do have very extensive second and first degree burns on my back, and I need skin grafts very soon. When America-san dropped that second, larger atomic bomb, it blew off my first sewed on patch of skin. In English terms, I think I am entitled to say, "It hurt like bloody hell". Being forced to sleep on my stomach, it is not the most desirable position. The second bomb has an aftermath of tiny blisters the line the under-sides of my arms, and they keep reappearing no matter how much medical ointment I use. China, do not for one moment think that I will ever consider myself your brother ever again; however, I will express myself honestly for now. I am not sure why I am repeating something I wrote in my very first letter – maybe it is because the medication is messing with my head – but I miss you and I wish for you to write back just this once. Even if it is just an ink splatter or a string of curses, I wish to hear it.

China, I am so, so sorry.

I stared at Japan's letter before scrunching it up and hurling it across the tent like I had with some of his previous letters. Angry, hot tears poured down my cheeks as I hugged my knees and sobbed into the unwashed fabric. I wasn't sure why I was feeling so agitated. I wasn't even sure what I was feeling. There was something stirring inside me that felt like anger, yet there was a key element of sour, bitter regret and the tears were laden with silver sorrow, scorching a path of worry as the traced the curve of my cheekbone. I did know one thing though; my old Japan was gone. The little nation who I had so lovingly raised with my own two hands had vanished in this battle.

I felt the skin between my brows crease as my vision blurred once more, a fresh onslaught of tears burst forth.

I wanted Japan back.

15 August 1945

Order for the cease-fire and surrender was given this morning. When my soldiers heard this, some begun to cry. Some whooped with joy and some simply stood speechless. They all had the two things in common though – their eyes shone like the brightest stars, and the taste of victory on their tongues.

When I was notified, I couldn't help but feel slightly bitter amidst my feelings of relief. Just one order… it was simple. Why hadn't they done this sooner? Then again, it was natural for Japan to –

I cut myself off my train of thought as I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. Japan's boss gave the order for cease-fire, undoubtedly; but the call for surrender had to be given by Japan himself. Was… my brother so defeated and crushed that he had nothing else he could do? Was he so cornered and hopeless?

Sinking to the ground, I buried my face in my hands, sobbing with mixed worry and happiness from the surrender of the Japanese. I felt a large hand pat my shoulder as Lithuania's eyes floated into my ear.

"You don't have to hide your tears, China," the nation stated in a wavering voice, "everybody's crying and letting out all their pent up feelings." The brunette paused – probably to wipe off his tears – and continued with a stronger voice, "I think you deserve the right to do this more than any of us here."

It would be at least a month before I would be able to see Japan, since the formal contract hadn't been signed, but for now… just for this one glorious moment… I offered myself up to the golden light of success, laughter and triumphant, thankful tears for the beautiful gift of life.

September 1945

It was nearing the end of September – sixteen days since the formal signing of the surrender had taken place. I had been treated for wounds such as gashes and bullet grazes; in addition to this, I had been given numerous shots for tetanus and other diseases. The tetanus needle made my arm bloody sore, as an added note.

I found it annoying to wake up in the morning – unable to so much as twitch due to my deep bone ache – and see France's face hovering a mere centimeter from mine.

Fixating his cat-like eyes on mine, he sneered and swooped down, giving me a quick peck on the cheek. Unlike me, he was practically unscathed and was able to roam around the hospital at ease. I was under observation for I was revealed to have an abnormally, and dangerously so, low calcium storage in my bones.

"You did well, my dear China," the Frenchman whispered gently in my ear. "Rest for now."

As I watched the blonde nation exit my room, I gave a sidelong glance to the basket of my belongings brought back from the camp, courtesy of Russia. Spotting Japan's final letter to me resting on top, I felt tears pool up in my eyes once more. My younger brother – no, he was a nation now, a fully-fledged nation perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Japan had hated me and resented me – and the stack of hate letters back in my room in China said so – but deep down inside, something probably chewed away at his spirit. Maybe. Maybe, he was feeling exactly the same as I was.

This was all the resolve I needed. Forcing myself off the white starched hospital bed, I slowly made my way down the hall to the room right at the end.

Japan couldn't move. He was in a far more severe condition than I thought he would be in, with tubes sprouting from his small pale body. For a moment, I didn't believe that this was the nation who stated that he hated me with a burning passion. A machine registering his heartbeat gave a regular beep sound as Japan's heart acknowledged its own existence. Similarly, the Japanese's belongings had been placed in a basket by his bedside table. There wasn't much – a few leaves of paper, a brush and an ink bottle. As I fondled the cool glass of the bottle, I felt as if Japan were trying to tell me something.

Glancing back at the motionless nation lying back on the bed, I stared carefully at the Japan's face. Had his face always looked so… old? The Japan I remembered was a youthful boy full of creative ideas. He certainly didn't have hollow cheekbones; neither did he suffer from high blood pressure. For a moment, I thought the Japanese's pale lips had been graced with a tiny, almost invisible smile under the plastic equipment that enabled him to breath properly. Blinking, I inched forward and stretched out my hand, intent on cupping Japan's cheek, but decided against it when I nearly bumped against his IV stand.

Instead, I retrieved Japan's ink and brush along with a piece of paper. As I moistened the tip of the brush with the watery ink, I felt sad tears drip down onto the rice paper below me as I painted elegant strokes onto the surface.

The still wet ink on the paper smudged when my salty tears puddled on them, yet I felt a small tug at the corner of my lips. When I was done, I folded up the letter and placed it into the basket. Japan, surely, would find this one day. This would be my first, last, and only letter to the nation whom I would forever consider my younger brother. Maybe I didn't even deserve to call him my sibling. I left the room, feeling a large weight being lifted off the cavity of my chest as a warm feeling known as a butterfly of hope fluttered into my being. No matter what Japan thought, I knew I'd always love him as my younger brother. They say that younger siblings never grow up in your eyes.

Dear Japan,

I've been waiting for you for a long time. I've missed you, and I can't count the number of times I've thought about you. Christmas is coming three months. Last time round, you asked Finland for a box of sakura mochi, while I requested a fifty pound stuff toy with the body of a human and the face of a cat. You told me it terrified you because of how manly its arms were, but I carried on insisting that it was adorable. Come to think of it, I've never actually requested for something that I ever truly wanted. Most of the letters to Finland were sent just because Taiwan would get upset if I didn't wish for anything. This year, I do have something I find myself wanting very badly. Finland probably can't make it come true, but I will carry on hoping for it anyway. Japan, this year, all I need

.

.

.

is for you to give me a smile from the bottom of your heart.