A/N: Sorry for the slow update; beta stuffs. O3O I'm not really sure I was supposed to post this, in fact, since Dontmezwitme didn't reply to my last message...*shrug*. The main editing was over, so I think I can post this...^ ^U And NaNoWriMo. Which means no new chapters for the month.

Bloodstained Chrysanthemums/沾染着血的菊花

Chapter 3: Past/第三章: 过去

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Yao gazed at the flowers at his bedside with a melancholic expression upon his pretty face. Chrysanthemums, immaculate white and fresh as the dawn, placed where they were to accompany him in his recovery. Ironic how what put him there in the first place shared the name of his only companion in the room. Kiku…Chrysanthemum.

Outside, faint, muffled voices droned on, incomprehensible. It didn't matter; Yao already knew the content of the conversation. He would be out soon. His wounds from the accident were nearly all healed, though the scars left behind were inevitable. Even if he had escaped the whole ordeal without them, Yao could never forget. His mental painting of his precious little brother would be innocent no more.

"An accident," the press had called it, but everyone knew it was not! It may have begun as one, but it could have been prevented, could have been stopped. Except the only person who had the power to do so did not.

It had been such a happy day, too! A vacation in the countryside, where the air was fresh and stress was minimal. Yao loved nature; the rush of the city was really never his cup of tea. The scenery's serene comfort, the sense of peace it gave…

That is, short-lived peace.

Ah, how frail the human body! All it took was one small stumble, and down, down, down went he, bones broken on boulders and skin torn on sharpened rock. Nature is beautiful, but deceitful is she; dangers plague her every detail! Cliff sides offer beautiful scenery—but beautiful scenery is not the only thing that corroded stone offers.

And as he held on for dear life, he stared into his brother's eyes, a silent plea for help.

There was nothing.

The moon above him was mellow and subtle, a perfect accompaniment to Yao's nostalgia. Well, that's what he told himself it was, but nostalgia required good memories, and the deeper he thought, the more he realized that Kiku never liked him. Not once did he consider him his brother, nor did he even see him as a friend. In fact, it was entirely possible that he had hated him. After all, it would have to take something to keep him from helping someone in such dire need. Something to make him just stand there coldly and watch his brother fall.

Yao sighed, pushing back the hair that was getting into his face. He couldn't just make assumptions, whether good or bad, he decided. They did nothing but rile up his already pained heart. His entire body still ached from head to toe; the bruises were better, but not completely healed, and someone as excitable as him was prone to breaking healing scabs open again.

…Ah, it no longer mattered. It was about time he headed back. The short walk out was to clear his head from everything that's been plaguing it so far, and he hadn't left a note—it was, after all, the middle of the night. The Chinese turned around, only to find a young girl standing a few paces in front of him.

Weird, he hadn't heard any footsteps.

"Hey," called the girl in her singsong voice, "might you be Wang Yao?"

"Um…Who are you, aru?" He didn't know this girl, that was for sure.

"Silly me," she told herself a bit loudly. "Of course he's Wang Yao. My instincts never lie."

As she said those words, a cloud of red began to form above her. Slowly, almost unnoticeably, the mist expanded, growing bigger and bigger until it seemed to take up the whole sky. Yao stared up at it, wide-eyed. What was going on…?

"You seem surprised," smirked the enigmatic girl amusedly. "Get used to it."

The cloud begin to take shape into an ambiguous creature, golden eyes thin as slits but sharp as swords. The monster eyed him, entertained, and Yao flinched, stepping back. This was…

A dragon.

Majestic, the legendary creature circled the air directly above Yao's head, red scales sparkling in the soft moonlight, accented by slight shimmers of blue and gold. Its playful expression never left its face as it continued to observe the boy from above.

This had to be a dream.

Yao tried to run, but his feet felt rooted into place by fear. Besides, what chance did he have running from a dragon? And also, he would wake up soon…Right? It didn't matter if his brother hated him and he was severely injured from head to toe. At least then he wouldn't be surrounded by a damn dragon.

The girl, sensing her opportunity, slowly neared until she was directly in front of him. Yao stared into her amber eyes, serene yet headstrong at the same time. "Don't worry," she whispered. "This isn't going to hurt."

The wind roared all of a sudden, and the draft swirled around the curious trio of the girl, the boy, and the dragon, in a swirling current that was too strong to break from. The young woman smiled, a sweet and sympathetic gesture, and the world was swept away from right under his feet.

It was a dream, right? If it wasn't…He wouldn't be waking up…right…?

Yao touched the thick blanket draped over him with a groan. The bed under him felt welcomingly soft, and it simply felt great that there wasn't an intimidating dragon flying in circles above him. He was at home, safe, and making perfect sense…

Until he realized he was no longer wearing his usual outfit.

"Aiyah!" Yao yelped, sitting up with a jolt. He frantically fingered the ornate embroidery of flowers and hummingbirds gracing the changsan he now wore. Something so carefully embroidered was surely worth a fortune! How did he come to be wearing something like this…

…In someplace like this…?

He dropped the sleeve immediately once he realized it. The room was ten times larger than his own, which was not a common phenomenon, owing to the millions that his family possessed. This was…This was traditional, oriental, in the style of the overly lavish Chinese emperors of the ancient days. A sweet scent wafted in the air, blowing from a set of candles at the far end of the room. The bed he sat on himself was king-sized, with a canopy engraved with coiled dragons and translucent curtains, tied up at the moment.

Maybe he wasn't dreaming after all.

"Oh, you're awake!"

Yao flinched at the all-too-familiar voice. The girl with the dragon stood a few paces beside him, holding a glittering blade in her hand. The magnificent beast that had accompanied her earlier was nowhere to be seen, but the knife was unnerving enough as it was. Yao tensed, watching the dagger with nervous eyes. "W-W—"

"I know, I know, where are you, who am I, all that jazz. Well, quite obviously, you're in an Oriental palace. My name is Zhang Chun-Yan." The girl lowered the blade with a thoughtful glance at his expression. "And I keep forgetting the initial reaction to the ceremonial blade. Right, right. I'm not a mass murderer, no."

"…R…Right…" Yao was basically speechless. Never before had he met someone quite as…eccentric.

"Glad you understand. Now, let's postpone all the explaining for later, shall we? Down to business!" She raised the knife treacherously. "I promise, Yao, this won't hurt a bit…Okay, maybe just a little."

Chun-Yan stepped closer, serious-faced, and Yao backed up anxiously, eyes wide. What was she planning on doing? "Wh-Wh-"

She pounced on him faster than he could react, shielding his eyes with one hand and pushing her weight on him. He felt the cold of the blade on his face, and he stilled, knowing that struggling would do him worse.

"What do you want…?" Yao barely recognized his own voice: small, shaking, and devoid of his usual verbal habit.

"Shit," swore Chun-Yan, ignoring his query. "What an inconvenient place to put energy flow this strong…"

The slightest pressure on his cheek made Yao flinch, grabbing at his captor's hand with his own. He could tell she was close; her auburn hair kissed his face, and he could smell the faint scent of peonies on her cheongsam. "Lie still," she whispered, her usual sarcastic tone gone from her cherry-sweet voice. "Or it might just hurt."

Yao held his breath anxiously, loosening his grip as the Chinese girl sliced into his cheek. What was she doing? More importantly, why was he letting her do it? This was mad, and he knew it, but for some reason his body refused to move and he just lay there, subject to her powerful whims.

A warm trickle of blood dripped down his face, and suddenly, it hit him—there was no pain. From the very beginning, it was gone—the aches of his bruises and the stings of his cuts, and even now, as a knife sliced into his skin, pain was absent. It didn't hurt, just like she promised.

What sort of magic was this…?

"There," breathed Chun-Yan finally, hands leaving his face. The blade she held so thoughtfully in her hand glistened with blood, but her expression showed no sign of regret or terror at all. "You're finished. That's nice; you didn't put up a fight at all. Not many are like that, I tell you."

Yao sat up slowly and cautiously, wincing as he touched his bloody cheek, though out of habit—it didn't hurt at all. Chun-Yan motioned to the mirror at his bedside, and he saw a single word:

Death.

"Please," he croaked, cupping his wounded cheek tenderly. Nothing was adding up. Nothing made sense. Answers. Much like his brother, three years later, he needed answers. "What's happening…?"

"Yao," Chun-Yan smiled with a hint of pity, "Welcome to my world.

A/N: Not sure how two-character Chinese names should be typed in English. I personally don't like that ugly dash, but not all Chinese names look pretty stuck together and without it. :l What do you think? Chun-Yan, ChunYan, Chun Yan, Chunyan...Oh, and in case you haven't noticed, that was Fem!China right there. I'm not entirely sure what her personality is supposed to be, so...*shrug* There are also a whole damn lot of "yan"s that mean nice things in Chinese, and I don't know which one Fem!China's is supposed to be, so I picked the one that means swallow. So her name, according to my dad, now means "the swallow that flies in the spring." Wait, was it a swallow or a sparrow? I think it was a swallow...*shrugs again* Well...That's all I really have to rant about. O3O