"You decided to become one with me."
"I decided what was best for my people."
China brushed Russia's hand off his shoulder. "They wanted this. It was the best government for them. They decided that."
Russia glanced China over. He was small, seemed weak and pathetic, covered in scars both centuries old and barely healed from. But it wasn't so long ago that he himself was the same way. He supposed China would be decent. But to act this strong, oppose this much already… it had to be stopped. He tilted China's chin up.
"You," he said, pointing towards China's chest, "are communist. As am I. Don't you think we would work better if we cooperated in mutual agreement?"
"Don't fool yourself," China said, "We're different."
"An inferior derivative," Russia corrected. "Borrowed ideals from the West."
"They were ours to begin with," China hissed, "You stole our philosophy, just as you did with everything else."
"And we were better for doing so." Russia looked down at China. "After all, I wasn't carved out by several capitalist pigs. I wasn't the weak one that had to be rescued in the last war."
China pulled away sharply. He glared at Russia, trying to stare him down from his own smaller height. He was trembling as Russia reached out for him, but didn't move as Russia grabbed his arm and moved closer.
"You are weak, China," Russia said, "I'm going to repeat my question: don't you think we would work better if we cooperated in mutual agreement?"
Silence fell over the two as China looked away, contemplating the situation before him. Russia observed China – he was interesting, but barely and painfully generically so. His pride overreached his potential – which was a pity, because he would have been so much easier to handle if he wasn't so proud, or much more useful if his abilities did exceed his pride.
"I will," China said. He jerked away from Russia once more. "We'll discuss the details later."
Russia watched as China walked away. This was not another one of his satellite nations, but a veritable country with age as its ally and a lofty goal set in the back of his mind, only to brood on it in pensive moments of silence. He may have lost now, but it was only a small battle against the backdrop of impending war, not between enemies, but between the far more complex field of allies and friends - if friend was a term loosely used. Russia knew he had to handle him with care – how to was the real question. One small mistake, and China would overtake him. But that was part of the game, part of the deal of becoming an unprecedented superpower.
Russia smiled. This was getting better. That was good. He was getting bored.