Nostalgia
Japan turned away, head held high, on that afternoon that seemed so long ago. He had shown no remorse upon wounding his older brother, but instead had shown glaring pride.
China lay on his mat now, covered in sheets from India, who had been tending to his wounds. China's wounds were still deep a couple of days after the incident. However, he bore a nostalgic smile, a pained one, upon his warm and paternal face. His light brown eyes stared outside towards his sakura tree which he had planted years ago.
China could not hate Japan, not the small, fretful child who so needed an older brother's love. As the last rays of sunlight sunk below the mountains on the horizon, China had misty eyes. He closed them, allowing some tears to flow forth. As a Buddhist, he knew tears to be cleansing, and wept as he needed to. He knew that the more he got out now, the better his sleep would be.
As the sky darkened to black, and stars splashed the sky, China fell into a sea of dreams as the pain from his wounds continued to exhaust him.
The small child Japan trembled fearfully in his dark room, still sweating and panting from the night terror. He was at the tender age of five, and he needed elder brother. China had been woken up by Japan's soft cries. He wanted to comfort the ailing child, but he knew that unnecessary fear would stop his attempts to comfort little brother.
"Japan?"
China's gentle question made Japan startle to attention, staring at the still untrusted elder before him. He began to stutter in fear.
"I-I'm s-sorry, e-elder b-brother..."
China, who adored his younger brother, and found him to be cute even in this state, stifled a sad smile and calmly approached the trembling swaddle of kimono and hair that was his brother. The black of the room was hot that night, and China knew that these kinds of temperatures could trigger a night terror.
As Japan heard his elder's creaking movements and felt the vibrations of clothed feet taking steps towards him, his poor little heart raced and his mind drifted to all of those nights alone. He remembered with vivid recall the icy moon glowing upon him while he was suffocated by the endless expanse of bamboo, creaking in the howling night winds.
China gently placed a hand on Japan's quivering back. Japan's heart was indeed racing.
"Shhh...Japan, breathe, aru."
Japan felt a burning impulse that he would never express to anybody, but it was the night terror that had driven the thought into his mind. He wanted to cling to elder brother for warm comfort, which he sensed that China wanted to give, but he greatly feared trusting him.
The confident, clean and clothed elder next to him radiated nothing but paternal love. However, from past experiences, Japan believed that this relationship would end like the others.
Japan knew from experience that if any nation did take interest in him, they would soon turn cold towards the mute child and abandon him once more, leaving him to the cold nights...
"D-Don't leave! I c-can't be in these w-woods! Not a-alone! It's s-so c-cold!"
Japan stuttered, silent tears of terror flowing forth. China's heartstrings were being pulled tightly within his chest upon hearing this.
Poor Japan...I need to show him that I won't do this! But how...
Just as China had that thought, Japan did something sudden. He decided to act on his impulse, no matter how foolish it felt. He tugged at elder brother's sleeve and dared to look up into his warm eyes for the first time that week.
China saw the unspoken need and patted his lap, spread his arms open to Japan, and let the child come to him. Japan scrambled onto China's lap, buried his eyes into his shoulder, and wept as China held him. China simply shushed him, talking in soothing tones.
As Japan stuttered out the dream in barely coherent Chinese, elder brother spoke over him.
"There, now, you are not alone anymore, aru. You are with me, and you are safe."
China woke from the flashback suddenly and found himself drenched and panting. He felt white hot pain searing through his wounds. India heard the panting from the next room over and came to China's aid once more, dressing his wounds with a pain-killing herb before giving china much needed water and rest. After China had fallen back asleep, he drifted to a warm spring morning with Japan.
The small child ran out of the shade and into the light of mid-morning, elder brother following calmly. He loved to watch Japan race out of the house once in a while, and now that he was more comfortable with his elder brother, he was behaving more like a boy, which China knew was healthy.
Japan stopped his run at the foot of the blossoming tree which China had planted a few years prior to the boys' rescue. China would let Japan play for a while, but then he would have to begin yet another language lesson. The Chinese that Japan did speak was flawless, and he was a quick study, but China knew that he had to continuously teach Japan the ancient language and calligraphy.
After Japan had worn himself out, he sat obediently next to China and looked straight ahead as China began to speak of today's lesson.
"Now, Japan, I know that you love being outside, so today, we will have the lesson out here. I have brought out the calligraphy set so that we can learn some new symbols and words today. Do you know what we are sitting under?"
Japan, fluent in his own language that he had developed during his years of solitude, gave China the Japanese answer.
"Oh, that's your language? It's very beautiful, Japan, but I would like to teach you the Chinese for that. I'll say it for you."
Japan listened intently to China's ancient language and smiled upon hearing it. It seemed so different from his own, but he knew that elder brother's language was just as significant to him as his own; it was the only way the two could communicate.
Japan repeated the word slowly, and China smiled.
"Good, Japan. Now, I'm going to write out what I just said, and you can write it out after me."
As China made graceful and concentrated strokes with the brush, inking out his beautiful calligraphy, Japan watched in awe. His calligraphy was a bit shaky, but it was better than the first time China had shown him how to hold an ink brush.
As China handed him the brush, Japan's face lit up and he copied the symbol closely.
"My, you're learning quickly! Now, we can focus on some other symbols..."
And so the morning hours passed as Japan said and inked out some new words for the day, each one pertaining to the outdoors. China loved watching Japan focus on the language, and he knew that one day, he could teach Japan how to live on his own but maintain a close relationship with elder brother.
As China let Japan once more play in the large backyard, he thought to himself about Japan's future.
He knew that Japan was already speaking his own language aside from Chinese, which did concern him to a point, but didn't seem harmful. He knew that Japan's language was an important part of who he was, and would allow him to speak it. But he also knew that he would have to teach Japan how to trade with other countries; for Japan to live in confinement for the rest of his days would be horrible.
Japan was not one to interact with others on a normal basis. When China invited other countries into his home, he would encourage Japan to greet them. Whenever he did, though, he seemed politely eager to leave as quickly as he had come.
After a few more hours, Japan had become tired and followed his brother inside for some late lunch. He would let Japan spend the rest of the afternoon on his own, reading the scrolls that China had written for him until dinner.
As the light of the sun dispelled the night, China opened his tired eyes. He had slept for only six hours, and he knew that he needed to rest throughout the day, but he wanted to be outside. The weather had grown warm and beautiful, and he knew that the scent and fresh air was just what he needed.
As India came into his room and bore encouraging words and a friendly countenance, China thought of how to ask him for some time outside in a way that wouldn't be denied.
After China had convinced India that he could be outside, he turned his face up to the sun and took a deep breath, the scent of cherry blossoms soothing him. He listened to the running water from the bamboo-stone fountain and thought of the koi fish swimming within it's waters.
He then turned his face to the tree once more, thinking of all of the afternoons that Japan had climbed it, read under it, and had calligraphy lessons under it. He could not hate his previously adopted younger brother. Not even after he had wounded his elder brother. China could never hate the once small, fretful child who had needed his love.
Fin