Cover Source: 【notにょたりあ】女体化耀さん Pixiv ID: 35540889 Member: すー

I never asked for this... this terrifying display of horror and bloodshed. Yet, here I am - in the midst of a war without knowledge of my twisted enemies, my family and a multiple-thousand year old secret hanging in the balance. A strange gamble of my memories, secrets, and body haunt me daily, with the remains of the lost not far behind. And though this gamble still holds, I doubt it will for long, for a traitor is my only hope, and every step for me could be a walk into death's doors.

Warnings: This fanfic takes place within an AU where China is a female masquerading as a man. I wish you to note that in the mainverse I tend to disagree with this, so please try to keep hateful pms and reviews to a minimum, as well as overwhelming headcanon lists. This story will also include a few other "ideas" like this that you may or may not agree with. Besides this, please take note that in later chapters there will be character death.

I do not own Hetalia or any characters used in this story.

I suppose this may be the gods' punishment for whatever sin we committed in our previous life. When society asks of what we are, many say "Immortal beings," "Humans but not," "They have it all," "A long, lax life." However, being a nation, a living, breathing, embodiment of a nation, is not what it is cut out to be. Many strive for immortality. To that I ask, "Why?" And the answer is simple; because a mere human hasn't lived to be mature enough to realize it's cons, with the only pro being that one does not feel the pain of death. However, most mere mortals do not understand that there are far worse pains in life. When my father died in front of my eyes, I had realized this. I should have died before him, when I was hit by the surrounding nation's sword trying to protect him. I should have died. I should have died.

Yet, I never did. The wound quickly recovered itself, and my father threw me away from the scene, to save the life he thought I was able to lose. The replay in my mind is blurry, but I am sure of one thing; he was mortal. And while I thought I was the same, I was not.
It was so long ago, it is a miracle that I remember. I must have been around the age of 15 when this happened, the same age as the small village in what should be around what is now central China. Yet, I appeared to be a toddler. A four year old girl. Since I was able to walk, I aged slowly. By the time my physical age caught up to what looked like my later teens, I had watched my great-great-grandchildren die, with their own children not far behind. That family- I eventually forgot about them.

I watched that same small village grow into a nation. I watched as other nations around us attacked. I was in every war, used more or less as a weapon because of my immortality. Yet I could still feel pain. I felt the pain of dying a hundred times over. Though, it later became clear to me that I wasn't alone. I met with others, most of them second to their own ruler, with the same immortality as my own. They called themselves by the name of their civilizations, and I suppose I started doing that too once my position was (to the despair of many of my citizens) recognized.

However, them finding out that I was a nation posed a threat to "China". You see, I was female, and they were all in fact male. Not only was this somewhat of a humiliation to a portion of my people, I suppose the "others" took that as an invitation to invade, and that I would be a weak opponent. And so, I disguised myself as male. At the time, I was glad. As it turns out, a nation can be killed at the hands of a fellow nation. I was not about to give up all I had lived for, and forfeit the lives of the people who surrounded me, for with this discovery I noticed that after a nation dies off, their civilization does as well, as well as the other way around. Any way to help stop attacks was appreciated.

Then I met Romulus. He saw through my masquerade, telling me of beautiful, powerful women in the west. His stories seemed too good to be true at the time, but I eventually came to believe him. We wrote to each other, and occasionally he made his way down to my country to trade and make talk. It was a period of pure happiness in my life; I was devastated when he was gone.

Of course, that was all in ancient times, thousands of years ago. My secret still stands, and part of me is glad that it does, I have lived longer than about every other nation. The tying of my bandages has become a routine, my mask is part of my everyday life. However, the ruthless killing of the nations now… It's almost unheard of. Not to say that it is completely impossible, just that doing so would put oneself into a situation of shame. Wars still break out, of course, and the nations still fear death due to their little human instinct. And sometimes, they do die.

Both world wars passed, and now almost seem like a bad dream. And it only subtly crossed my mind that there would be a third. However, I never guessed it would be so childish, yet hellish, as this.
As I narrate, I cannot deny the existence of blood on my own very hands. The blood of the people I held dear, the people who gave me purpose. Those people, to see them covered in their own blood, to see their hair stickied with it, to see their clothes stained with it… It scares me. For now, though, I can do nothing but wait. And once I am back on my own two feet, I will stop at nothing to get my revenge on those who took their life.

I am not a woman, nor a man. I am a nation, I am China. I am everlasting and strong. Call me what you will, the difference means nothing. I know what I am capable of, even if the others will not realize it. If it comes to me showing that power… Then so be it.

Ah, but before I get ahead of myself, I suppose I should tell you what happened, right? From the beginning of when the specks of this incident started...