A/N: Hello everyone! This is my first Hetalia fanfic, dedicated to my favourite pairing, China X Japan! Please enjoy~
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or the characters.
Light snow started to fall from the dark omnious sky. A blizzard would come by any time now, but that didn't matter to Wang Yao. He didn't mind sitting out in the cold, waiting for his precious Kiku to return to his side.
Only, that will never happen. For the only thing that Kiku left behind were happy fluttery memories, and one horrible, detestable memory that will remain in Yao's mind forever. It took over every happy memory they shared.
It's been days now. The scar on his back has been bandaged and healing, but Yao still sits on the porch in his militay uniform everyday, waiting aimlessly. Kiku had wanted his own indepence and he was most definetely not backing down. Yao, however did not approve of this ludacrist thought.
Yao sat on his porch, one leg stretched out. He put his chin on the other knee. His face was turning sakura pink due to the cold snow which was lightly falling onto his porch and him. His mind was wrapped around only 1 thought:
How could he have let Kiku spin so out of control so easily?
Yao brought his other knee up to his chin and curled himself up into a ball, with nothing distracting him from his thoughts and the silent falling snow being his only companion.
How long would he have to wait until his precious Kiku returned to him?
The Chinese man walked out of his house, his red chang shan gently fluttering in the breeze. His hair, in its usual ponytail followed suit. How long had he been wandering around the open woods? Time had gotten away from him. If only his pain got away from him that easily. All this political stress was really starting to hurt his dreadful shoulders.
The bamboo shoots were straight and strong. Its leaves were rustling in symphony with the breeze. Yao walked straight into the bamboo forest, trying to find some peace within its depths.
Only, peace somehow found him, for in the forest was a small, timid boy.
He had paper white skin and was small and fragile. He had short black hair that stopped at his nose. He was wearing a blue kimono that was a little too big for him and a pair of brown pants. His light brown eyes sparkled at the sight of Yao. The child looked undernourished, like his parents had just abandoned him and he was now on his own at such a tender age.
Yao went closer, intrigued by this small figure.
"Hello! Are you alone aru?" Yao had to crouch down to talk to this boy eye-to-eye.
The timid boy only nodded his head ever so slightly. He looked frail, pale like he could break with even the gentlest breeze. The boy stared into Yao's hypnotic golden eyes until suddenly, his stomach let out a loud growl.
"Sorry" the small boy said, squeezing his eyes shut and bowing continuously. He was extremely polite at such a young age. Most boys at this age were adventurous and rambunctious little kids. The odd behavior of this young child greatly surprised Yao.
"Why don't you follow me aru? I'll take care of you aru!" said the Chinese man, smiling from ear to ear, forgetting his misery completely.
At first, the little boy only stared downward shyly, unsure of how to react to this man's kindness, but his hunger soon over took his thoughts. He looked up at the man who was scooping the boy into his arms eagerly. Even without a reply, Yao knew that the boy was just as much alone in this world as he was. All they needed was each other.
Yao carried the boy into his house. It was huge and draped with red all over. He set the boy down in a chair much too big for him and went into the kitchen to get some food for the both of them. The small boy sat quietly in the chair, being as still as a statue. His mind was wondering a million thoughts.
Why had this man accepted him? Where did he go? What if he secretly wants to kill me? He let his thoughts wander free until his eyes met a painting slightly bigger than the rest. The delicate colours of the pink flowers blended with the rice paper so beautifully. The painter must have spent lots of time on this painting the boy thought. The painting looked so real and life like that he felt like he could smell the scent of those flowers.
"Those are sakura aru! They're my favourite aru!" Yao said, bringing a plate of steaming hot buns into the living room. The boy's nose was mere inches away from touching said painting. He didn't even know he had left his seat until Yao snapped him out of his trance.
"S-Sorry" the boy squinted his eyes shut and started bowing once again. So polite thought Yao. Yao placed the plate on the table and hoisted the boy back onto the eleborately decorated chair.
"So, what's your name aru?" Yao said while chewing into his bun. He tossed a particularly big one toward the boy.
"I am Japan" said the boy, in a barely audible voice. Even though he took a considerably bite of his bun with his pearly white teeth, it looked as if the bun was untouched.
"You're a nation aru, just like me! But you need a human name aru…" Yao narrowed his eyes and tapped his chin with a finger. "Ah! How about Kiku aru? Kiku Honda" said the Chinese man, who was standing up now, his bun was in danger of being squashed to bits.
The little boy was a little shocked at first by the sudden reaction, but then smiled at the man for the first time. His smile, which could enchant even the gods, had ten times the effect on Yao. At that moment, Yao knew he could look forward to much brighter days.
A/N: Reviews are greatly appreciated~