"Another one down..." He sang quietly, retracting his blade from the fallen body. "How many more to go?"
Yet, his blade was only stained with blood of his previous victim, and not the other slain soldiers before him. It seemed to be a habit that Japan had picked up over the course of this war. To cleanse his katana completely of this cursed battle, he would think to himself, wiping the blood away with one swift motion with every person he struck down.
The crisp wind blew by his ears, an ever so nagging reminder —he thought to himself again— of how desolate this once lively part of the country was, now only inhabited by rotting corpses. Why was it nagging to him? He did not know, he wished for the thought to leave him, he needed a distraction.
You wish to divert my attention. Very well, I shall comply.
With reflexes quick as lightning, he whipped around, pointing his katana at the enemy who had almost succeeded in ambushing him. The other, startled by the sudden sharp object at his neck, almost lost his grip on his own sword, holding onto it with white knuckles.
"Ah, hello." Japan greeted patronisingly, brushing off the sand that stuck to his uniform. "I was beginning to wonder whether you have gotten lost in your own territory."
The other only glared up at him, eyes lit with fury, refusing to speak. A hint of fright crept into his eyes as he got pushed further down to the ground by the blade, but dissipated as fast as it came, unwilling to give the other the satisfaction.
"If you had, then wouldn't it be more suitable for me to call your land as mine?"
"Unfortunately I'm still here, radish-head, so go back to your stupid disaster-invested land." The older of the two bit, scorning himself to had yelped softly when the coldness of the blade protruded his skin, drawing out blood.
"If you surrendered now," Japan said, face still as it had been from the beginning. "It would be more favourable for the both of us."
"I refuse to do anything that benefits you."
"Would you like to rethink that decision, China?"
With a futile attempt of an escape by his current captive, Japan stifled a defeated sigh as he cast his katana to the side and wrapped his arm around China's neck securely, his other hand between his arm and his neck. Ancient gold eyes widened in recognition of the technique as the youthful, but calloused hands pressed together, and trained legs instantly worked to kick the younger nation away.
Japan watched with a well-hidden expression of pity as he witnessed his old-caretaker's consciousness threaten to leave him more and more, movements turning more and more sluggish.
The livid flames in his eyes never faded, however, until the second before he eventually went limp in Japan's arms. Releasing a shaky breath, Japan tossed China's body over his shoulders carefully and retrieved his katana before ambling to his tent, putting him down on his bed (which wasn't too much of a bed anyway) and kneeling beside him, closing his eyes.
"I would never want to hurt you." His sighed in his own language, disinfecting the shallow wound he marked on the other's neck and brushed dark brown hair out of his face. How ironic, that a person who killed mercilessly was tending to a foe's wounds, but he knew China would have done the same if their positions were switched, so it was only right for him to mirror his actions. "But it is inevitable. Why do you not understand? After I conquer your land, you will be in such bliss, under my rule. My empire is strong, everyone under me will be protected. Our family will be together again, it is only you who are left."
Standing up, he turned away from his current captive and faced his katana. Gold eyes like China's stared back at him from the reflection, but something red laced the edges of the blade. Immediately, an unpleasant feeling pressed down on his heart, and he reached for a piece of wet cloth to wipe it away, eyebrows knitted slightly in frustration.
It wouldn't go away.
"What...?" Japan inhaled, voice with a hint of distress as he rubbed at the cusp more forcefully. As implausible as it seemed, the patch of red seemed to grow the more he tried to clean it away. "Impossible..."
Once the blood on his sword spread to his hands, he flung it away, his eyes wide with discomposure and terror as it flowed down them like red waterfalls. He could suddenly hear the screams of all those whom he had slaughtered without forethought ringing in his ears, and it was hastily becoming unbearable. Terror seized his heart as his vision became blood red. His knees buckled and he dropped to the floor, unable to do anything but shiver.
Redredredeverythingwasred.
Japan didn't notice when a figure crept up behind him, placing his sword in front of his neck.
"Japan." China regarded solemnly.
"No." He easily rejected, trying to ignore the blood staining more and more of his uniform.
"I haven't finished what I was saying—"
"I know what you were going to say!" He spoke quickly, trying to calm his breathing. It was getting increasingly hard to focus on anything. "And the answer is no."
"No need to get so worked up. I was merely going to ask you why you didn't lock me up."
"Because..." Japan exhaled, but quickly stifled his weariness to hide his current weakness. "I don't need to explain myself to you."
"Finally got your heart back?" China questioned, pulling his sword closer to Japan's neck. "But I see you have lost your mind."
"You—"
"Saw. Guilt is eating you, Japan..." His voice turned upset, but Japan couldn't tell if it was genuine, or faked. "I knew it wasn't too late for you."
"Please stop with your mind games! Can you not see this?" He raised his hands shakily. "They are stained with your blood! It is only your blood, that I cannot clean away! It won't stop slithering up my arms like vines... And... It is..."
"What, Japan?" He asked softly, frowning at the perfectly bare hands that he once took in his embrace lovingly.
"So... Horrible."
China's heart ached at seeing the one that he brought up in the past in such a state. Hesitatingly, he redrew his sword and after a moment of doubt, wrapped his arms around his brother's form. "Even if your atrocities are unforgivable, I will still always, always see you as family and I... It's not too late to stop. Or even help the right side."
Japan froze when China rose, extending his bare, innocent hand to his own bloodied, guilty one.
"Here, I'll help you up again. Trust me."
"You don't understand." Japan pushed him away meekly and stood up, almost stumbling. "You don't understand."
"What don't I understand? You might think I don't know you, but I—"
"Need to stop guessing. Please. Forget this ever happened." He grabbed onto his katana with a blood canopy too thick for his liking. "Go."
"Little brother—"
"Go!" Japan howled uncharacteristically, pointing his blade at China, startling the both of them. "Please forget what happened."
"It really... Isn't too late. But for you, I will forget this encounter." China bowed slightly, leaving the tent.
And a Japan who continued to rub at the already cleaned katana with glassy eyes.
Author's Note: Thank you for choosing to read this. In all honesty I've forgotten what inspired me to write this, but I do remember that I wrote this when I was supposed to be doing something else. I hope you enjoyed it, and thank you again, please review if you can :)