A story written by 惲頫 in Chinese. After getting his permission, I now translate it into English.
we don't own Hetalia... if only we could own it!
enjoy~
The elites of the elites, somehow, are always too proud of themselves. Those Asian Soldiers who are far shorter and thinner are unfortunately looked down upon. Westerners, however, are always speaking out their contempt for this Asian as usual.
"Chinks? the only thing they can show us is their Line-up!" Says Arthur Kirkland who stands far away from him like a childe, with blue-blood in him which can never covered by his camouflage coat. and then he continues, "We can draw this conclusion easily, since they have spent all the times on the procession rather than shooting. If we can beat those enemies only by our processing, why should guns come into being?"
"The boring formalism of China." Speaks up for that Brit, by an Indian.
Listening to the sarcasms around calmly, Wang Yao judges the actual strength of these foreign special soldiers: that large guy, yeah, a German who looks strict and meticulous, seems to be an activist to take actions. Minutes before, when Yao himself came into the camp, this German had not ever raised his head to look at him. Another one who is not interested in such communication is a Russian named Ivan. He must be more difficult to trifle. Every time when Yao looks into his violet eyes, Yao would feel uncomfortable. It is like that he is wholly in nude.
Suddenly an energetic voice comes from his back: "Hey, Chinese, fighting does not fit you well." Then he could feel a pair of hands raising to hold his waist from there, together with the owner's warm breath near his ears which blow his hair gently, "You're fragile. But... this is what you have."
"What?"Asks Yao with an unpleasant tone. No long before he turned back he caught sight of the blond hair of an American.
And Alfred, that American, ridicules: "Very pretty body to do a good lay... If you were captured, you must be made full use of..."
Quicker than words could tell that Yao topples this man using a cool gesture called "Sleeping Arhat"to kick Alfred down to the ground. Alfred has no time to cry out his anger because Yao has already turned around, nipping Alfred's neck tightly.
Maintaining his splendid position on Alfred's body which is indeed a handled pressing affairs, Yao says composedly: "Dare you talk nonsense anymore, you'll be the first to be cut off." Then he stands up to point at Arthur: "Brit, my battle companions had said the similar things like yours: if we can beat those enemies only by our lips, why should we the armies come into being?"
By saying that he is ready to exit, but he is unexpectedly tackled. Then, being thrown to a desk, his neck was nipped by Alfred's pair of hands which was once on his waist. and now he can see Alfred's anger on this American's face.
"Do NOT belittle me, you Chinese. I'll teach you the meanings of pain!" Alfred tried to show him a smile to show that he was not painful, though he is painful indeed.
"Stop, Both of you! The training has not started, stop your random fighting!"A Canadian with the name of Mathew rushes to tear his American brother.
Alfred restores calm in a second, and he let go Yao: "Let's wait and see how long can you keep alive."
Wang Yao supports himself from the desk hard: "I'll witness your failure, Yankee!"
Alfred's eyes once again fall on Wang Yao's waist. His position that twisting his body on the desk made his waist look slender. So nice a waist that it might not stand a little blow. Seeing this, Alfred sneers: "God bless ,in Amazon, that you' won't break your waist!"