" I raised you. I cherished you. I loved you.

But you rejected me. You abandoned me. You betrayed me."

" I hurt you because I hate you. I hate you because I've loved you."


He stood proud in his tainted uniform. He watched the ancient empire plummet to the abyss as he rose to the summit. He watched the crimson liquid splatter gorgeously in the cherry blossoms and basked in its mesmerising contrast. The sight of blood never once revolted him; for it was shed by the person he loved the most but could never own. He wallowed in his brother's heart-wrenching wails. He indulged in his futile struggles. He relished in his soaring resentment.

"Why…Why are you doing this to me…" asked China, the so-called brother he would never recognise.

There was no absolute explanation to his decisions.

If Japan had to name one reason, it had to be love.

And not just any kind of love, but an obsessive, oppressive, obnoxious one.

He had never mustered the courage to confess how he fell in love with his own caretaker. To realise that he loved someone he could never possess was the primary trigger. To see his own beloved one ravaged by another person was the ultimate source of his envy. And as envy developed into grudge, it gradually ascended to exasperation. He detested him wholly. He wished so much to take him down. And yet, he loved him. So much more than he had expected. So much more than anyone else in this world.

But China's realm could never contain him.

Just because he was his brother.

Draw a line .

He thought.

I have to.

If this love between them was ever so sinister, he would sever their bonds.

If he was forbidden to love him, he would stop being his brother.

If his affection was declined, he would start hating him.

If he couldn't make him submit to him on his own accord, he would force him into coercion.

" If you want something, you conquer it.

Never ever let go of any beautiful treasures."

Said a British once.

Fuck him.

Damn Arthur Kirkland.

Japan didn't know whether to feel grateful or grieved at this point.

The British had snatched his precious brother away from him. He had conquered and obliterated him completely, leaving the gracious ancient country in ruins and chaos. He saw what the British Empire did to China. He knew everything because he was a major witness. He had been awaiting his own chance to extort that striking nation. He did nothing to stop Arthur. He did nothing to prevent the rape. He did nothing to assist his brother in the opium war.

Instead, he took advantages of it.

He watched China fall.

He watched him humiliated, degraded and pillaged by the Western forces.

And he did nothing to help. Nothing. He even prayed for England to sabotage China more so that he was nothing but wreckage; a fallen empire that could no longer control him and boast about being his older sibling.

Japan took the vulnerable state of China for granted. He seized this opportunity to make his ever so dignified brother kneel before him.

China, on the other hand, couldn't believe the child he had endeavored so much to cultivate and nurture, to love and treasure, had turned into a beast.

His eyes reflected nothing but pure aggression, wrath, indecency and…

Lust?

"Stop it, Kiku!" The older nation whimpered as he collapsed to the ground. "Please…"

The katana landed directly on his back, slashing open a patch of the flawless skin. The cut was deep, firm and unwavering. The fabric was ripped. Blood oozed out and trickled down like torrents of rivers, staining his frayed robe a shade of dark crimson.

The air was filled with pungent-choking odor, echoing with the intense atmosphere. Tears, blended with blood dribbling down his forehead, slowly rolled their way down China's face.

"Please…don't…" He barely whined.

Beg.

Just beseech him for mercy.

He still believed that Kiku would somehow spare him and that somewhere beneath that deadpan face lay a ting of remorse and conscience.

It hurt.

It hurt so much.

Because it was Kiku who inflicted the pain on him.

Whatever other nations did to him, however horrendous their atrocities were, he could get through them. He was old. He was experienced. He was valiant. But his stamina crumbled when it was his own brother who came backstabbing him.

A slap rendered him wiggling breathlessly on the floor, his eyes flooded with furious tears.

Betrayal.

Pain.

Love.

Hate.

He couldn't describe the awful combination of feelings swirling in his heart.

As he stared feebly at Japan, all that he saw was a face once so familiar but now so distant.

This…wasn't the brother he had loved.

This wasn't the child he had adopted and fostered.

This wasn't the person he admired.

"Your scintillating era is coming to an end, China-san." The expressionless nation muttered. "I shall be the dominator of East Asia, not you."

"I see…" The older nation babbled, trying to prop himself up with his elbows. "The war has changed you, Kiku… Where's the brother I once knew?"

"I'm not your brother," asserted the Japanese man. "I never was."

China shut his eyes calmly and puffed. "I know you never treat me as your brother. I know that… Foolish me… and I've thought you would never betray me to this point…"

"The way you treat me as your subordinate just because I'm your young brother irritates me profoundly. I will never look up to someone who cannot even defend himself against foreign invasion. You're disappointing, China-san. I hope you realise that. And rather than having those filthy Europeans touch you, I am going to take your land instead."

"And if I do not approve of it?" China cocked his brows.

"You don't have an option in this matter."

With that, the younger nation raised his fist again and smacked his prey. The strike landed harder on China's face than any blades. The ancient empire moaned. Blood spilled out of his mouth. He clenched his eyes shut and let the pain crawl its way all over his nerves. Twinge shot down his spine. He curled up his body as his opponent started kicking and whacking him, regardless of his pleas.

He could taste his own puddle of blood. His robe was shattered and torn off piece by piece, revealing his pathetic skeleton and scrawny stature. Wars had been harsh on him. Never had he expected though, that beyond the scars the Europeans ingrained on him, would come the greatest one engraved by his own dearest brother.

China flinched when those cold, slender fingers trailed along his sullied skin. The abrupt pinch caused him to screech in agony.

"You used to be so beautiful, Yao-san."

China cringed slightly at the sound of his human name. He blinked at the hovering man whose face was twisted in a despicable complexion.

"It's so wrong to have let those Europeans corrupt you. So very wrong." Japan shook his head in dismay. "I used to think I could take you down clean and fresh. But now that Britain and France have made their moves on you, I do not want to delay my advance anymore. Before that American steps in, I shall have all of you."

"This…is this how you've always seen me…how could you…I thought…I thought we're a family!" The Chinese man retorted, though the answer remained obvious to him.

Japan had never genuinely regarded him as his brother.

"At least I'm more noble that that insolent Korean brat."

Every talk about family and eternal bonds was merely his own wishful thinking.

First, the British man he loved drugged and betrayed him. He even invited the debauched Frenchman to join him.

Now, the brother he cared for the most was turning his back against him.

All he had ever wanted was love and peace.

But never would they leave him alone.

Never.

"You're not fighting back?"

Yao lay back down on the ground and stared hollowly at the other nation. A faint smile sprawled across his face as he lifted his shaky hands to fondle those tender cheeks.

How he missed those days! Those golden periods when these soft cheeks still belonged to a naïve, sane child.

Japan, startled by the other's move, frowned and grunted at the sudden caress. The touch was so gentle and reassuring it nearly made him forget the tears stinging his eyes.

He didn't want to do this.

No, he never wanted to mortally wound him.

No one in their right mind would hurt and slay someone they loved.

But if it meant to keep that person all to himself, he would dedicate his entire mind to fighting and pursuing his own love.

Do it.

Just do it.

His mind urged.

He smacked away China's hands and clasped his wrists. He pinned the man down.

The robe slid off his injured body completely, leaving all the swollen scars and bleeding gashes exposed to the Japan's plain sight. A tongue reached his neck and started savouring the straggling blood on the cut. China shivered and turned away from the aroused nation. The wound on his back ached immensely. The weight of Japan on his body only aggravated the torment.

The kisses were sloppy and fierce. Several times, his lips almost got bitten off by the intrusion. He couldn't think straight at all. Things were starting to turn obscure in his vision. China squirmed as those teeth grazed across his blemished skin and delved deep into his flesh. There was no pleasure in their copulation.

Each knew too well it meant nothing but the end of their long-term bond.

They would never see each other the same again.

The thrusts were brutal and feral. China couldn't recall anything more agonising and unendurable than the barbarian act his own brother was performing on him.

It stung his heart so much more painfully than when he was impregnated by that British pirate.

And it was all because this person happened to be his family member.

There was no mercy in Japan's tones.

There was no sympathy in his eyes.

There was no affection whatsoever.

Only greed and ambition.

Wrath and lust.

How had it come to this; he didn't know.

Perhaps at some point of the upbringing, he had done something awfully wrong to turn Japan into this mess.

He would still blame himself, of course.

He would forgive Kiku and condone his sins.

He knew he would.

Because he could never loathe someone he loved.

On the contrary, he knew Kiku would never stop hating the one he loved.

Yao could bear with it. He could.

But why wouldn't the tears stop?

Why wouldn't this pain subside no matter how much he forced himself to enjoy the sex?

He wouldn't mind if it was Kiku who did this to him.

In fact, he was more relieved that it was actually Kiku, but not Arthur, or Francis, or Ivan or Alfred.

Everyone wanted a piece of him.

But if he had to choose someone to hand over his measly self to, the least he could do was pick Kiku.

Yes, he would pick him. He could tolerate his abuse. He could embrace his grudge. He could endure his torture just fine.

He would share his pain.

His sins.

His fate.

"N-Nii-san…" The word slipped out uncontrollably as he reached his peak.

The other nation gaped at his tormentor. Warmth filled his rear and soon a foul stench of his blood mixing his bodily fluid attacked his nostrils.

Japan only had the time to glance down at his victim, not caring to justify the way he had addressed him during his climax.

Yes, it was just a slip of the tongue.

He never wanted him as a nii-san.

He wanted him as a lover.

But now, he had made him his prisoner.

The Chinese man coughed. Blood sprayed all over his body as the pain slowly manifested itself.

Japan, seemingly horrified by the massive blood seeping out of both China's mouth and open wounds, pulled out of the man instantly, leaving trails of his juice dripping down the other's bruised thighs.

"China-san?"

There was a tiny bit of apprehension in his voice.

What have I done?

He scowled as tears prickled the corners of his eyes.

He had hurt China more than any other nations.

He was so certain that even Arthur didn't go so far as to slash open his back and bash him till he couldn't move a single muscle.

The Chinese man didn't reply.

He was too exhausted to voice out anything.

Every inch of his skin was blistering. Every part of his body had been ripped into pieces. His heart was shrieking. He could feel his people groaning in flame and massacre.

Still, he couldn't bring himself to glare at Japan.

His lids dropped slowly to shield him from the sight of the incorrigible war criminal; his beloved, sworn brother of all time.

A pair of guilty arms wrapped around him swiftly, trying to shake him awake.

In his vague consciousness, he seemed to hear a whine of remorse.

Or so he thought.

It had got to be his delusion though.

He didn't know what was in store for him next.

But all that he could remember seeing, was Japan's weeping face, followed by absolute darkness.


Japan squeaked and sat up on his bed. His forehead was coated with beads of sweat. He scanned around the room and trembled. His face was drenched in tears.

The pain was so real it was penetrating his heart; ripping it into half…

He gasped as remnants of memories flew through him again. Every single scene played clearly in his head like a videotape.

"Kiku?"

The voice was tremulous yet comforting. He struggled to leave the past behind and focus on the man snuggling up next to him.

Yao fumbled to switch on the lamp on the nightstand and sat up alongside the other nation.

"What's wrong, Kiku?" He tilted his head and stared at Japan. "Kiku? Are you…Are you crying?"

"I'm fine, nii-san." The younger nation wiped off his tears and assured. "I'm fine…"

"Are you sure? Is there something bothering you?" Yao gently rubbed his brother's back.

"It's just a dream…a bad dream." Japan hummed, fidgeting with his hands as his partner tenderly took him into his arms.

"A bad dream again? You used to wake up in the middle of the night when you had a nightmare." The Chinese man giggled. "And I would always sing you to sleep."

"I remember that."

"You do?"

"Gomenasai."

"Kiku?" China gasped. "What's wrong?"

"Gomenasai, nii-san." Japan sobbed and hugged the older nation, incidentally brushing against the long, sensitive scar etched on his back.

"It's alright aru." Yao smiled and burrowed into his lover's shoulder. "It's just a dream."

He never needed any further elaboration on Japan's apology.

He realised it too clearly. Kiku had never once apologised directly in public or even admitted the horrible deeds he had committed.

Yet, the guilt was always plastered all over him.

It was not a question of pride but rather, the fact that every time the poor nation revisited those memories, they haunted and anguished him.

And from time to time, he would wake up in the middle of the night mumbling his own apologies.

It was, nonetheless, more than enough for China.

"Gomenasai, nii-san. Gomenasai…" Japan continued blubbering as he leaned against his brother. "Gomenasai…"

"Sh…it's okay, Kiku. It's okay. I forgive you." China whispered, patting the other's back repeatedly to soothe him.

The younger nation seemed to relax upon hearing Yao's forgiveness. It was the only time he would let himself free from this eternal guilt.

The chanting soon grew fainter as he slowly dozed off in China's arms.

Gingerly, the older nation placed his partner down and planted a chaste kiss on his head.

"You know I will always forgive you, Kiku." Yao murmured and lay back down next to his mate. "You know it."


"Why?"

" Because it's you."