Chapter Thirty-Six: Strength
"Japan?" China asked, and a look of puzzlement had come over his face. "What are you doing out so late-aru? Come in, I made some nice food…"
Japan bowed his head, shoulders shaking. He slowly moved a hand to the handle of his sword.
A look of confusion took over the puzzlement, and China tucked his ponytail over his shoulder. "What are you doing-aru? Be careful, that is sharp, Japan-kun…Japan? Wh-what are—"
By now Japan had crossed the door, and China shrank from him as he drew the long katakana with a rasp. Japan's eyes had a look China had never seen before, blank and emotionless. A darkness that should have never been there.
"Forgive me," Japan whispered, and he swung. China's scream imprinted itself forever on his memory, and he had never been able to let go of the tortured look in China's dark eyes.
He let the sword drop from his hands, falling to his knees. He trembled as he began to sob, raising both hands to cover the shame on his face.
"Forgive me," he wailed, and China lay still, breath coming in agonized pants as blood flowed from the wound on his back. The gash was deep, covering the length of his spine. Japan continued to cry, and his heart hurt. He had struck China…the only person who had ever called him family…
"J-Japan…" China groaned, and Japan cried harder as China lifted a pale, shaky hand and ran it through his black hair. "Don't…cry."
"Forgive me," Japan wept, snatching China's hand and pressing it to his cheek. China's eyes were dull with pain, and China exhaled unsteadily.
"N-no…you were just doing…what you were told…I raised you well-aru…"
Japan looked up in shock. Then, he pounded an passionate fist to the bamboo floor.
"No! I didn't have to listen to my commander! I should kill him for ever even suggesting this!"
"No…Japan…you misunderstand…"
China coughed, back wracking with pain. "You…are a good country…We will now be at war…but please remember…you need to be strong. Keep on going. Stay resilient-aru. Grow to be the most powerful country in all the world, don't cry in front of anyone."
"I hate my boss!" Japan cried. "I hate being a country! I don't want to h-hurt…"
"P-please remember…" China interrupted, hand now holding firmly on Japan's jaw to keep his gaze, "That no matter what…I will always love you and forgive you, no matter what happens, aru."
And China died at Japan's hands for the first time, leaving the child he had found in the bamboo thicket so long ago behind to cry.
America walked up the well-worn pathway, kicking at pebbles. He knew the way very well, from all the times he used to visit. It felt strange to walk it for another reason completely.
The cherry trees came into sight, and America could hear the water running from the spring not far off. He could see the porch of Japan's house in the distance.
I'm here to negotiate, he reminded himself. He would have to be civil and collected. He took a deep breath and patted down his jacket. America cleared his throat as the house came into full view.
He opened his mouth to yell for Japan to come on out, but shut it in surprise. Japan was already out on the porch, fast asleep. A Soviet coat was covering most of his body.
America came a little closer, cautiously. Japan was really asleep. His hair was a mess in his flushed face, and his mouth was slightly open. America bent down next to him, still alert. Japan murmured, making him jump.
America considered waiting until he woke up, just to scare him. He eyed Japan's vulnerable sleep-warm form. It would be so easy to end this all now, to stop the war. No one was around at the moment.
America shifted, moving closer. His heart pounded. Wasn't it his American duty, to end the war as soon as possible? All he had to do was reach out and take hold of him…he was sure he could smother any of his cries. No one would know, and he would be celebrated. But, America thought, feeling a pang, maybe he didn't have the guts or courage to hurt him. Japan had been his friend. He couldn't just kill him like that. And negotiations were supposed to be nonviolent…
He suddenly thought of Canada, still in limbo, and his gaze hardened. America stretched out his fingers, barely brushing Japan's sloped shoulders—
The end of what appeared to be a long thick faucet nudged his chin, freezing his hand in place and forcing him to turn.
"I wouldn't touch," Russia advised.
America pulled back his hand slowly, and Japan made a small sound, curling up with head to knees.
"I came to negotiate terms," he said stiffly, and Russia raised an eyebrow, not moving the pipe. "Aaand I can see we are not allies any longer, you and I. Put down the…er, faucet."
"You're on our grounds, our rules," Russia pointed out. "I remove it when I feel you are no longer a threat. And you are still very much a threat. Step away from Japan."
"I don't want to," America said stubbornly. "I came to talk business with him. That's all."
"Business?" Russia snickered, lavender eyes glinting. "Then how do you explain me finding you trying to strangle him, hmm? Or is that also business?"
"What? I didn't even touch him yet!" America yelled angrily. "I just want to—"
"Get in the house," Russia ordered, poking him in the back. "You'll wake him up."
America shut up, glaring. Russia herded him inside and shut the door.
"What do you want?" Russia asked with an undertone of false politeness. "Can I get you coffee? Or maybe tea? How about Earl Gray?"
America flinched at the little jab at England's death. "No. I want to discuss this with Japan, if you don't mind."
Russia leaned forward. "I do mind. You do realize our assets are merged? Apart from our separate selves, our countries are merged together on the map. Talk to me or leave."
"Fine," America sighed. "I want to discuss this war. What exactly are you looking for?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Russia said, grabbing a bottle off the top shelf and taking a long swig. "Prussia wants the world to know his name again, Sealand wants recognition, and I want to simply observe Japan and perhaps gain the world in the process."
"Yes, I know that," America said. "But what does Japan want? What's in it for him?"
Russia gulped, thrusting the bottle at him. "Want some?"
America glanced at the suspicious clear liquid. "Not first thing in the morning, Russia. I don't run on the same stuff you do, jeez. Now answer my question, commie."
Russia shrugged, replacing the bottle on its shelf. "No need to get rude. Hmm…Japan's reasons are many. You'll have to ask him yourself."
"People are dying everyday," America said desperately. "Just tell him to stop. Use anything. People have to stop dying now. Please…I'll get him a good doctor or something to fix his head problems...he just needs to stop…"
Russia shook his head. "It won't work. For reasons I don't know completely, Japan is intent on destroying you no matter how long it takes. I don't think this is all Italy, though a lot of it may be. I think it's a symbol to him, to annihilate everyone else besides himself. And even that he may do in the end. Who knows? All I know is I'm going to be there when it happens, to help push him over the cliff when he asks. And he knows that. I'll always be there, all the way until the end, eternally at his side. I won't miss it for the world."
"But—" America began, but Russia shushed him as Japan's voice came from outside.
"Russia-san?" Japan called from outside the door. "I want to return your coat…"
"You've overstayed your welcome," Russia informed America icily. He pushed him to the back door. "Now leave. Quickly."
"Can I talk—" America tried, but Russia shoved him roughly out the door.
"No, you can't. Now go before I decide to let Japan deal with you in a dark room. Alone."
He shut the back door just as Japan entered, carrying the large coat in his arms.
"Who was that?" Japan asked suspiciously, and Russia shrugged, grinning.
"I sent Prussia to obtain some oranges. He'll be back soon."
"Oranges?" Japan's too pale face looked feverish in the dim morning light. "I'd…really like some. I hope he gets back soon."
Russia nodded half-heartedly, and Japan climbed up on the chair next to the counter, using his arms as a pillow. He breathed a little erratically, and Russia passed by him, wondering if he was coming down with something.
He entered Prussia and Sealand's bedroom, hoisting Prussia up by the front of his tank top.
"Whatsa big deal?" the albino mumbled, squinting at him. Russia shook him to clear his senses, and Prussia squeaked as he realized his position.
"H-hey! Put me down! This is not awesome!"
"Be quiet," Russia said, "Go out and get some oranges."
Prussia frowned at him.
"Are you nuts or something, not that you aren't already anyway, but it's like five frikin' thirty, waaaaay too early to crave stuff like that! The town is five miles away! Are you pregnant? It's cold out—"
"Go now or I will cave your skull in," Russia said in a deadly soft whisper, dropping Prussia to the unforgiving floor. Prussia grumbled and slipped on his pants over his boxers, still glaring.
"But it's cooooold…"
"Wear a jacket."
"But it's faaaaaaaaar…"
"Then you better start walking."