A/N: This very long one-shot is based on the events during and after what happened in episode 28 and parts of episode 6 of Hetalia: World Series, so if you haven't watched the episodes, I suggest you do it before reading this. This is also a fluffy story so there's no smut despite France being a fundamental element.
Other than that, I hope you enjoy the story.
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"Hey China! Could you build a plane for me once I send you the blueprints?" America beamed, holding a wad of paper. China's normally placid temper was dangerously close to exploding into rage. What was it about him that made the rest of the allies assume he wouldn't mind running some errands for them, when they can't be bothered to do the job themselves? Whether it had anything to do with his defeat in the Opium wars or not, he did his best to suppress that thought as well as his annoyance bubbling inside of him. Despite his appearance, China was older than the rest of the allies put together, yet they were the ones ordering him around and in his mind, it was that disrespectful attitude that frustrated him to no end. He opened his mouth to speak when an annoying British accent interrupted him.
"Ah… and make todays lunch, too," it said in a casual tone. From nowhere, the memory of China's last escapade cooking for the ungrateful bastards, England and France, surfaced in his mind. He remembered being put under pressure that would make any chef have a nervous breakdown and never want to work in a kitchen ever again. They wanted food which China knew would take a long time to prepare and faced complaints about his lack of speed when he finally bought them to the table. But what stung China the most was England's comment about how his culinary skills were superior to what the Chinese man put all his effort into making. If France hadn't had disagreed with the Englishman, China would have beaten England to a bloody pulp using his kung-fu skills. And kung-fu was what the raging Chinese man was going to unleash.
"I'm not taking this anymore! I'm sick and tired of you ordering me about! I'm going to revolt even if I have to do it alone!" He shouted and ran to the nearest yellow wall.
America and England were puzzled at first as to why China ran towards the wall instead of escaping through the door. The Chinese's back faced the wall as the side of his hand hammered against it. It became apparent in seconds that China's anger fuelled his strength, as it took exactly eleven strikes to smash a hole bigger than a bicycle wheel into it. America and England jolted out of their confusion and into dread as China demolished another partition with one swift kick. Snapping into 'hero mode', the honey blonde American surged towards the Chinese man who planned to head butt the next wall into submission. Cracks already formed as China repetitively slammed into it with his forehead. Suddenly, he felt himself being pulled away by a pair of strong arms that wrapped around his waist. When he glanced and found America squeezing him hard like a boa constrictor, China thrashed his arms and legs in hopes of escape, all while screaming like a child having an explosive tantrum.
"Calm down, China!" The strain showed in America's voice. England saw that the American struggled to keep China under control and immediately spun around on the spot to find France, asleep on the maroon, leather couch.
"Oi! Quit napping and help us stop him! France!" The Briton yelled. Under normal circumstances, France would have woken up and screeched at anyone who disturbed him from what he called his 'beauty sleep'. However, instead of what England expected him to do, France continued to snooze despite all the noise being made. England thought whether the Frenchman was in a very deep slumber or he was pretending to sleep so he didn't have to get up from the couch. His thoughts considered the second option most probable. England attempted to wake him a second time using physical methods when a smile stretched across France's lips making the Briton hesitate.
"England! I can't hold him any longer by myself!" America yelled as he was steadily losing his grip on the writhing Chinese man.
"China…" A murmur escaped France's smile which froze everyone in their positions. China especially stared at the sleeping form nonplussed. When America felt he wasn't going to struggle anymore, he withdrew his arms from China's waist which allowed China to approach France.
"France?" He asked in confusion, mainly because his name was the one he called. The next sentence France uttered however caught China off guard.
"China… you're so cute…" All at once, China's face flared to a similar colour to his national flag. Despite having nothing to do with the current situation, England and America weren't sure what to make out of what was just said as they stood there stunned. "You're so adorable China. If only I could take you home with me…" France uttered, his lips almost grinning with admiration. Once China managed to engage his brain into reality, he let out one last blast of energy in the form of a slap to the back of France's head.
"You pervert!" He screamed before dashing out of the room so fast, England and America only had the chance to watch the last of his black pony-tail disappear through the door. A moan from the couch turned their heads back to France who sat up and rubbed the back of his shoulder length, blonde hair.
"Alright! Who thought it would be funny to hit me on the head while I was asleep?" The moody Frenchman glared at the two countries standing in front of him. "Come on! Confess!"
"As much as we want it to be one of us, we didn't do it," England pointed his finger at his dark green, military uniform.
"Always with the jokes Angleterre! I know you did it!" France sprung from the couch and confronted the Englishman with blue eyes that shot daggers at him. "Admit it!"
"No, really! Neither of us did it! It was China!" America stepped between the two in protest.
"And I suppose he also made the giant holes in the walls too!" France jabbed his index finger at the after math of the destruction from the force of China's kung-fu skills.
"Privet," a cheerful voice turned everyone's heads to the door where Russia entered. For once, England and Alfred hoped his cheerfulness would dilute some of the Frenchman's annoyance. England especially knew from past experience that France would stay grouchy for the rest of the day, if one doesn't let him wake up naturally. "I've just passed China down the hall and he looked extremely upset," Russia began with his childlike smile. "When I asked how he was, he stared at me and screamed before he disappeared." His violet eyes then turned to the holes and cracks in the walls and breathed out a sigh. "And who's been trying to pull the pipes out of the walls? I've been meaning to find some good pipes but they seem to have been taken. Looks like I didn't get here fast enough."
With that, France's agitation subsided and everyone apart from Russia let out a quiet groan.
!
"Inner peace…" China slowly exhaled. China managed to find a secluded part of the park away from civilisation and sat cross legged under a tall tree with his eyes closed. All that running had expelled a lot of the energy and anger he harboured, and found that the only way to fully clear his head and rejuvenate himself was meditation. China's deep breathing had developed a comfortable rhythm which allowed him to sink into relaxation. He blocked out most of the background noise so he could only take in the sound of the gentle breeze that waved his fringe slightly. Overall, this feeling of sinking into warmth bought comfort in the Chinese man. Just one more day until he would be allowed to go back to his country, his home, wander in the bamboo forests and petting his pet panda.
"Wang Yao!" A new, foreign voice interrupted China's peace. No, he must sustain those comforting images he envisioned in his mind for the sake of his well-being. China tightened his eyes shut and furrowed his brows. He focused on keeping the imageries as real as he could. He can't let them fade away.
"Inner peace…" China gritted his teeth in desperation. He frantically tried clinging onto phantasmagorias of his home so much that he didn't hear the sounds of approaching footsteps. A hand placed on China's shoulder snapped his eyes open and using his quick reactions, twisted the intrusive hand into an uncomfortable position.
"Argh! China! You're hurting my hand!" China blinked and turned his head around to find pain on the face of France, kneeling down beside him. After realising this, the Chinese man let go of his hand and faced the reality of the park with the westernised trees and abundance of people passing by. China sighed and slightly pouted his lips in agitation while crossing his arms.
"What do you want France, aru? Have you come to drag me back kicking and screaming or are you here to molest me for real?"
"Whatever do you mean China?" France sat down properly with his legs stretched in front of him while rubbing his stinging hand. "I just came along to see if you were alright since I heard something happened to make you upset."
"I'm fine," China huffed making it obvious that he didn't want France to be in his presence. "Now leave me alone."
The Frenchman tutted. "Oh China there is such venom in your voice. I'm not sure if it's anything I've done but if it is I do apologise."
"Well at least England and America don't talk about me in a seductive way in their sleep aru!" China snapped his head and shot a look at France before turning it away from him again.
"Oh, so that's why Angleterre and America asked whether I liked you more than just an ally," The Frenchman looked up as though he had some kind of self-realisation. "They did mention to me about whispering sweet for nothings about you while I was taking my nap."
"Well now you know so go away!"
"Ah yes, it's coming back to me. I do remember dreaming about before I was rudely awakened by a sudden pain in my head."
"I don't want to hear about your perverted dreams! Just leave me alone aru!"
"In this dream, you were wearing a stunning red Chinese dress made from the finest silk. And tucked in your ebony coloured hair, was a cherry blossom pink peony hair clip."
"Aiyaa!" China pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and tried to supress the image of the description France gave. "How can you say things like that without feeling embarrassed aru!"
The Frenchman chuckled as he leant back. "I see someone's getting a little flustered and embarrassed themselves, non? I'll take that as a sign of you being flattered with what I said in my sleep."
"I am not flattered aru!" The Chinese man buried his head into his arms that rested on his knees and wished the world would swallow him up.
"China," France's expression suddenly turned serious along with his tone of voice. "Lately you've been incredibly stressed out by everyone ordering you about. 'Do this! Do that! Build me planes! Make todays lunch! Do what we tell you to do', was all you were addressed with by those who couldn't be bothered to move their derrières. I knew that sooner or later, you were going to lash out violently."
"And you care because?" China peeked and squinted at France with his dark brown eyes. "You're just as bad as the rest of them, always wanting something for nothing from me aru."
"C'est vrai, I have to admit it," France flicked the front of his blonde locks. "However, I have begun asking less from you. I thought I would, how you'd say, lighten your load."
"Now that he mentions it, he doesn't ask me to do his errands as much as everyone else does," The Chinese man thought. Even after the Opium wars, France didn't demand as much from him as England did and when America saw how much power the Briton held over China, he followed suit. Russia pretty much invited himself onto China's land without even so much as asking for permission. With that in mind and the fact that he took his pent up anger on the partitions earlier, the Chinese man balanced his chin on his arms. "But that still wasn't enough to prevent me from demolishing the walls."
"I know," France stared at the green grass. "But I think I helped postpone your outburst."
"Why?" China uttered. France turned his head and hummed as though he asked what he was talking about. "Why did you try to relieve some of my stress when you could have easily ordered me about like the others do?" There was a pause from the Frenchman as he bought his left foot underneath his right leg. As soon as he glanced at China with another serious face, he knew France was ready to give his answer.
"Let me tell you something that happened to me the other day," He said. China hoped it wasn't another story of one of his attempts to seduce a woman (or man depending on his mood). "I was strolling down the streets of Paris minding my own business. I glanced at shop windows, advertisements, anything that provided me with a brief interest when my eyes caught a gaze of a pretty woman with long, flowing, brunette locks, wearing a turquoise dress and had a beautiful pair of brown eyes, the same shade as yours to be exact. At the time I was in a sombre mood but as her eyes locked onto mine, do you know what she did?"
"She confessed her undying love for you and begged you to carry her like she was a bride to your house?" China answered sarcastically as his head rested on his supporting left hand.
"Non," France said flatly. "She simply smiled at me. Just one simple smile before she disappeared into the crowd once more. And that one small action immediately lifted my mood into happiness."
"Any girl that smiles at you makes you feel happy," China frowned.
"Non, you're not understanding me," France wagged his index finger at him. "A complete stranger, who I do not know, decides to give me a smile as if she comforted me herself. That one small act made a huge difference to my mood. Simple acts like smiling or complimenting people can really make a difference to someone's day. When you find something as simple as one of your happiest memories, all the troubles in the world suddenly disappear leaving you to bathe in a warm glow of happiness."
"Heh heh…"
France's eyebrows lifted in puzzlement at the sound China made just then. The tittering increased in volume until the Chinese man suddenly threw his head back and burst into laughter. The Frenchman's lips however curled up into a grin knowing that China's mood had lifted greatly. It was about minute later before China finally managed to tame his laughter.
"I don't mean to be cruel but I found it funny how you made a fool out of yourself in front of the allies without realising it," He covered his giggles with his long sleeved arm. "Aiya, I don't think I had the chance to laugh like this in a long time aru."
"Well you know what they say? Laughter is the best medicine," France let out a small chuckle before looking up to the blue sky. "By the way, do you remember about the dream I had about you wearing a dress?"
"You're not going to go on about that are you?" China said with a smile as he didn't want to spoil his good mood. "There was more in the dream wasn't there aru?"
"Non, there wasn't," France shook his head. "That's because I lied."
"What?" The Chinese man blinked in confusion. "But England, America and myself saw an heard you talk in your sleep aru."
"I thought I could get revenge on you for rudely disturbing me with your shouting," The Frenchman gave a mischievous grin to China. "I was having a lovely dream about a pretty girl dipping herself in a chocolate fountain."
The penny finally dropped when China realised what France was talking about and stared at the grass on the ground. "I don't know whether to feel bad for you or punch you in the face aru."
"Or maybe you could show your gratitude to moi for cheering you up," France pulled China's chin with his index finger towards himself and made eye contact. Their faces were at least inches apart and France started closing the gap, his lips poised, eyes half shut and ready to kiss. His lips made contact with skin but realised it was too hard to be China's mouth. When France fully opened his eyes he could see the Chinese hand pressing against it and a smirk could be seen through the gaps of his fingers.
"Nice try France but I not going to fall into your arms just because we both shared a sentimental moment aru," China said pushing France's face away. The Frenchman nearly lost his balance but he prevented himself from falling over, giving China enough time to stand up and began walking away from him. China took at least five steps before France's voice stopped him.
"But at least hear me when I say this; you would look cute in a red, Chinese dress."
The Chinese man turned his head around and flashed him a playful smile. "In your dreams France. In your dreams aru."
!
A day passed after the incident with France, and China was glad to finally step into his wooden house in the small, quaint town he loved so much. The familiar sights of oriental buildings and Chinese symbols on many signs, the sounds of his native language and hustle and bustle filled the town and the delicious smells of Chinese cuisine that wafted through the air, China felt completely at ease. He supposed it was true when people said, 'there's no place like home'. The date of the next meeting had been discussed but at present, he was more concerned about carrying his groceries into the kitchen and putting them in the cupboards ready for use for next time. Putting each object into their respective places subtly reminded China of the happy simplicities and everything having their place could surprisingly satisfy the need of contentment. By the time everything had been put away in their place, China beamed and turned to sit at the low dining table with a square, burgundy box sitting on it.
"Wait! That box?" He could have sworn he put everything away and knelt beside the table to investigate the package.
"You would look cute in a red Chinese dress," France's voice echoed in the Chinese man's head. That immediately triggered the reason why China took the box into his house and placed it where he placed it. He lifted the lid off the package and unfolded the delicate, white tissue paper revealing some red fabric. His fingers dug underneath the cloth and gently bought it out of the box. He carefully extended the cloth to reveal its true form; the red, Chinese dress.
He gazed at it in the same trance like state as he did when he first saw it through the dress shop window. France may have planted the subconscious idea into his head but China didn't feel that it was wrong for a man to bore his eyes into the dress
for what seemed like hours. He didn't know why it captivated his attention so much, normally he would have walked by. Maybe that was the outfit France 'dreamt' the Chinese man in, after all, the Frenchman did have a fondness for things he considered beautiful. Nevertheless, he made the decision to buy it without feeling embarrassed (he lied to the shopkeeper saying it was present for his sister) and there he knelt at the table, tracing the gold embroidery of a phoenix on the back of the dress with his fingers. It was curiosity that instructed China to buy the outfit and it was curiosity that told him to hold the dress against himself and wonder whether France meant what he said.
!
The dress fitted China's figure perfectly. At least the thought of buying it and finding he can't use it at all, was no longer a worry as he fastened the last button inside the dress. His hands took their position at the sides of his body, occasionally smoothing out the creases as he inspected himself in front of a full length mirror. If this was part of France's plan to catch him wearing a dress so he could fawn over him, China would have been a little annoyed.
However, China soon realised why women have a lot of fun shopping for clothes and jewellery and then dressing up in different outfits. It made a nice change to what they were normally used to. Plus, China made absolutely sure that he wasn't expecting guests to accidently call at the wrong time or in Russia's case, let himself in and made himself comfortable in his home.
China occasionally glanced back in case someone watched him without his realisation but thankfully no such thing happened as of yet. Staring at his reflection in the mirror, China remembered another part of the lie France told him; the peony flower hair clip. He turned his head to his wooden bedside table and found the wooden hair brush and a small, brown paper bag that he took out from the box after examining the dress. China took a few steps to the table to grab those objects and returned to the mirror only to kneel in front of it in an almost ceremonial fashion. He pulled the hair tie from his hair, letting it fall around his shoulders as he picked up the hairbrush.
Brushing his hair felt quite therapeutic with every stroke from the brush; detangling the knots that may have formed by themselves Every draw from the roots to the ends of his black hair had a similar feeling of nostalgia as the problems, doubts and worries were literally being brushed away. One hand caressed his now smooth hair sensually before using the other hand to place his hair tie in between his teeth. He split his hair into three strands and started to plat his hair. He had always been adept at platting hair thanks to Taiwan's occasional request when she was a child. Until she grew old enough to do it herself, she relied on China to style her hair. It was one of the only times they spent alone together and it was times like that he liked, the feeling of having simplistic fun. No politics, no wars, no complications, just him spending time with the ones he loved.
China sighed at the nostalgic thoughts running through his head as he wrapped the hair tie around the end of his newly formed plat. Again, he stroked the plat as he formed like he did after he brushed his hair. There was just one thing remaining and for that, he picked the brown paper bag up and bought out the cherry blossom pink, peony hair clip. Placing the bag to one side, China studied the ornament which gleamed back. His lips rose to a soft smile before he faced the mirror and held onto a section of his hair. Carefully, he slid the hair clip into the tuft of hair and secured it into place. China tilted his neck to the side and checked that no hair was out of place.
Once he was satisfied with his efforts on his hair style, he returned the bag and hair brush to the bedside table and revisited the full length mirror. He smoothed down the creases the kneeling created and placed his hands in front of him. He was amazed how much a change he went through and that was without any make-up. Was the reflection staring back at him really the China France envisioned when he lied about the dream? Whatever the Frenchman imagined, China was pleased with his appearance and the warm, fuzzy feeling was proof of that.
"France was right," He smiled to himself. "I do look good in a red, Chinese dress."