73. The Sometimes Thing
Date Written: July 10, 2019
Date Posted: November 20, 2020
Characters: China, Veneziano, Romano
Summary: China is not going senile, thank you very much. It's just that sometimes, he feels or sees things that are no longer there.
Notes: I have a headcanon that Veneziano and Romano both take after Rome in their own different ways. While Romano takes over more in stature and looks, Veneziano inherited the eyes and social charm.
The People's Republic of China is old.
Ancient, even.
A lot of things pertaining to that word often came up: senile, wise, traditional, stubbornly stuck in the old ways. Of the many things that he has come to confront in his twilight years, he realizes that he may have gone a little senile.
Just a little.
China doesn't want to admit it, but sometimes… sometimes, he sees things. Things that make doubt build up, stay his feet, and blind his eyes. What had happened to the infinite wisdom that he had attained over the years? What had happened to his quick reflexes and even quicker thinking? Nowadays, spry and younger Nations could ambush him, his reaction time twice as slow as had it been a millennia ago. What had happened to him? What had happened to his greatness, his superiority over the rest of the children whose ancestors he had mocked, traded, and fought with once a long time ago?
Sometimes, China swears he can see old rivals, long dead and gone, smile and mock him from behind the children that he was either busy mentoring or nagging into letting him go into better deals.
China is only a little bit senile. He swears it.
Today, he walks a steady pace towards the meeting hall and he stops. Takes a deep breath. It is good that China, while much slower than the younger, more spry Nations, still liked to come at the time that was announced and no later. That meant the millennia old Nation knew that the others and the persons that he would rather avoid would not be present yet.
As China settled into his customary seat with all of the grace of a feline, he felt himself relax only the tiniest bit. That movement could have lasted for more than a few precious seconds, yet it wasn't mean to be. At that moment (with only a few minutes to spare), a duo of two young men scrambled onto the scene.
One of them toted a laptop sling bag, while the other held onto the projector and remote. Even though it was still pretty early, the both of them had neatly pressed suits and were talking too animatedly. China, if it were not for the rules of propriety, would have sunk low into his seat and banged his head against the wooden table.
They were here.
From what China could gather, it was clearly Italy's job to set up for today. China was not senile, he just happened to forget that he was in Europe and those hosting often set up the technology themselves instead of delegating the task to their human assistants. Germany would say that it was to instill the need to get the meetings done with maximum success rate. Never mind the fact that nothing got done anyway.
As the two Italians bickered amongst themselves, China scrutinized through his documents concerning his domestic affairs. It was all the usual menagerie one could find in any Nation's personal files: corruption, environmental issues, financial concerns, etc. As he browsed through the pages with a half-lidded look, he marked some pages with a pen. As he worked, he didn't notice that the voices of the arguing Italians had grown steadily louder, which meant that they were coming closer.
Which meant that China hadn't noticed for several minutes even though he was only partially engrossed in his work.
China was definitely not senile and he wasn't losing his touch. Only a little.
He was simply making sure that his paperwork was still in order.
"Mr. China!"
The Chinese man pawed uselessly at his left ear, fully certain that due to North Italy's obnoxiously loud voice, he would eventually lose his hearing. Never mind that, however. North Italy was now talking about something.
Something that required China's full attention.
"—and the wires are all tangled up and Romano got really mad—"
China raised a hand, effective stopping the Italian. "The wires."
North Italy blinked stupidly at him. There was a question evident on his familiar and handsome features.
China valiantly refused the urge to roll his eyes. "Give me the wires and I'll help you untangle them."
For a moment, North Italy looked dumbfounded that China had actually volunteered. It was no surprise that China thought himself to be somewhat superior to most, if not all Nations. His was a history that spanned four millennia, and by heaven's decree, he would see more.
He was strong.
He was wise.
And he was only going a little senile.
"A-are you sure?" North Italy prodded him. His wide brown eyes, so much like (don't think about that!) that person's brown eyes. "I can easily—"
No time for this. There was simply not enough time with all the Nations who were coming in. Sooner or later, Germany or the others will start clamoring and that always leads to something completely ridiculous and not worth the effort in coming to the meeting at all. China absolutely hated it when that happened.
"Wires, Italy." China neatly organized his paperwork into its original positioning in his briefcase. "Or is that not the only reason you came to me?"
It was written across the Italian's face that China guessed right. Gingerly, the European handed over a great ball of mixed up wires and plugs.
"To be fair—" Veneziano cleared his throat a little apologetically, but quickly continued with his explanation at China's unimpressed glare. "Germany isn't here yet, so I couldn't ask him."
"And?" China prodded, already tired of Veneziano's indirect nature.
"You're…" North Italy chewed his bottom lip in frustration. For once, his gestures lacked life; they were muted. "You're talking to me."
China glared at the ball of wires, as if he was willing it to unravel itself. "Quite an astute observation, Veneziano." He looked over the ball to see that the Italian was shrinking into himself: not an unusual sight. What was unusual, though, was that Italy had a contemplative look in his eyes… Those eyes that China refused to look into after some period of time.
"I know that you're thinking that this is a waste of time, I've been thinking that as well, but… you always approach me first if you want to discuss trade… never Romano." His brown eyes peered deep into China's soul. Within those eyes, China was reminded that while Italy was not an Ancient, he was old. Older than most and with an insurmountable amount of bones in the closet. "Why?"
China fiddled with the ball of wires.
It was true, China never approached the elder Italy of his own volition. As for why… Well that was something he would rather not discuss here…
Perhaps China was going senile. Perhaps he sees the Roman Empire in North Italy's eyes. Perhaps he could hear the Roman Empire in South Italy's voice.
Perhaps Veneziano had the Roman Empire's charm.
Perhaps South Italy was the spitting image of the Roman Empire.
Perhaps…
Perhaps China wasn't senile.
Perhaps he was sentimental.
China took a shuddering breath before his fingers teased and played with the wires that lay in a ball within his hands. As he worked, his mind was completely blank, but calm. He was always calm because if he wasn't… If he couldn't…
After a moment, China looked up at Veneziano's searching his eyes before giving his answer.
"Your predecessor would be proud of you…" China's fingers tugged a little too harshly on the wires, but it held fast within his hands. "The both of you, I mean. Sometimes…" Suddenly, China clutched his forehead, his eyes going a little cross eyed while an ache overtook a portion of his skull. "Aiyah," he groaned. "The both of you look like him, sound like him, too. I may not have met him on many occasions, but…"
China finally tugged the wires free from whatever hellish ball the Italians must have allowed the wires to conform to before letting it drop into Veneziano's waiting palm.
"Aiyah, you youngsters and your stupid technology." China grumbled to himself. "I should be going back to my seat, Italy."
As he was about to stalk towards his seat, all sense of elegance and superiority falling to the wayside as he thought about how he had worn his heart on his sleeve as if it were nothing, Veneziano stopped him. His voice, as always, was melodic and higher than his brother's, but it was definitely softer than it usually was. A little surprised by such an ominous thing, China turned towards the European.
To his surprise, he found himself facing a teary eyed Italian. Although the grip on the wires was tight, Veneziano still managed to smile at the Ancient, his eyes crinkling at the corner.
A genuine smile.
"Can we talk about him later?" Veneziano swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down with uncertainty. "Please?"
China thought.
If this were any other time, any other Nation, aiyah…
He was definitely going senile and becoming more sentimental as the years passed.
"Bring your brother. We have a lot to talk about."
