China, or more accurately, the Qing Empire, was getting really sick and tired of looking at the barbarians. Especially when they had that stupid smile on their face that just screamed I won a war and you didn't so you have to bend over like a beaten dog or I'll kill you with my superior ships ha ha ha. Just seeing it made China want to scream. Those bastards forced his hands and then acted surprised when China didn't like being addicted to opium, barging into his lands and demanding treaties! And not just ONE treaty, oh no, that would be too easy! A million treaties so that each country could get its share of China's goods.

China could still remember the last words from his previous meeting with one of those barbarians, England, if he recalled it correctly. Remember, if one of us gets a favorability, we all get it. Welcome to imperialism old man. China was a hair breadth close to smashing that young empire-embarrassing weird-language lunatic with a nearby chair, but he managed to hold it in. The only thing that stopped him were the words of his emperor, a man he generally considered to be competent. Yes, he could hear the conversation now

"Yao, they are going to humiliate you, tear you down as an empire, ruin your reputation, and treat you like their pet dog they can beat whenever they want. You will be stripped of honor, and they will ruin you."

"And what should I do it in return, oh heavenly one?"

"Suck it up like a man and just let it get over with. We need them to stay in line, so don't kill them. We don't want another war on our hands."

"And my honor?!"

"Meh you'll get over it, it's not like you had much honor to begin with."

Sometime China hated his emperors. Yet this one had a point, he had to suck it up and just keep smiling, and then hopefully drink as much alcohol as he can get his hands on when he got home. But right now he had to talk to one more final barbarian before he could leave this stupid place, some backwater country called the United States of America.

Yao walked into the meeting room to find a diplomat and, was that a boy? Yes, it was, and apparently that boy had no idea how silence worked because from the moment China stepped in he was blasted with questions and just TALKING.

"Oh my god you have such long hair! I always wanted long hair but I could never grow it it kept getting caught in my food. Wow those robes look like dresses are you sure you're a guy? You don't look like one! You don't look old either and they told me you were ancient! I mean you don't even have a beard!" The golden haired noise maker continued, going nonstop until the other diplomat smacked on the head with what appeared to be a book of some kind before giving Yao an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, the boy is new and he doesn't, um, leave the country much. My name is Caleb Cushing, I'm a congressman from Massachusetts, er, a place in the northern U.S. It is very nice to meet you! What is your name?"

China blanked out on his english as he stared at the blue eyed boy in front of him, no, not a boy, more like a young man. How could those eyes be so blue?

"Wow, you chinese people sure do stare a lot. Do I have something on my face?"

China snapped out of his daze and quickly responded, face is red from being caught off guard. "We do not stare aru! You just look weird!"

"I do not! I look normal! You're the one who looks like a girl!"

"How dare-"

"Now, NOW," Cushing shouted, trying to keep the peace between the two almost rearing to fight. "I'm sure we can come to an understanding! After all, this treaty is vital to both. Of. Us." Cushing shot a knowing glance to the blue eyed man who quickly coughed and turned red.

"Yeah, um sorry dude. 'Was a moment of error and all that."

"Let's go back onto the topic of the treaty, if you don't mind mister?"

"Yao, Yao Wang."

"Pft, wang."

"Alfred," Cushing hissed, glaring a hole into the offender's head. "Why don't you sit quietly in the corner while me and Mr. Wang discuss policy?" The golden angel snickered a bit at the mention of Yao's last name but obeyed and went to go sit at the end of the room with a sigh.

The rest of the time past in a blur. All he could think of were those two burning blue eyes in the corner, and he ended up mindlessly agreeing to what ever happened. Alfred, he thought, those eyes are called Alfred.

"So Guangzhou, Xiamen, Fuzhou, Ningbo, and Shanghai, are all accessible?"

"Uh huh."

"Okay, that appears to be it! Thank you very much Mr. Wang! It was quite a productive session don't you think?" China snapped out of his daze at those words and nodded, standing up and wondering what in the world he had agreed to.

"Well, I suppose we should take our leave. It was nice meeting you Mr. Wang!" Another snicker from Alfred as he stood up to leave. "We'll be sure to come back to ratify the treaty. Good day sir." Cushing walked out of the room whistling and apparently in quite a joyous mood. Alfred was about to follow him out before China suddenly gripped onto his sleeve, making Alfred stumble back a few paces.

"What the heck dude?!" Alfred looked at him in confusion. "What do you want from me!?" China stared in shock at his arm that was latched onto the golden man's arm, trying to take it off but finding no will in his hand. Quick, make an excuse.

"Um, I thought we might discuss the treaty further."

"Oh, that makes sense. Sorry I thought you were going senile or something."

"ALFRED!" Cushing called from down the hall. "WE HAVE TO GO!"

"COMING!" Alfred yelled back. "Sorry Yao, I gotta go. We'll be able to talk about it later thought." Alfred gave Yao a glowing smile that made his heart do strange things in his chest. Stammering, he let go of the boy's sleeve.

"O-of course, we'll talk later," he responded, slowly getting his weirdly still fluttering heart under control.

"Okay, see ya then!" Another one of those amazing smiles and he was off, running to catch up to his "congressman," whatever that was. The door closed, and China slid down the wall, hand clutching his heart and eyes staring off past the drab walls of the meeting room.

What was that? He never felt something like that before. He never felt like, like getting up and dancing or running around in glee like a school boy. Like he could just sing. Alfred, he thought, what a beautiful name.

Half an hour later:

"I'm telling you Tibet, he's gone off the rails! He's just, SITTING there!"

"Calm down Mongolia, let the doctor handle this. I think he's hallucinating."

"By the name of- I thought we hid all the opium!"

"Apparently he must have found it. That or he's been hitten by a rock."

"Please be the rock, please be the rock, please be rock."

"Five bucks on opium?"

"Ten that it's the Korea's fault."

"Deal."