There wasn't enough light.

He had hung a lantern in every corner of his room, but it was still far too dark for his liking. And it couldn't be dark. It could not be dark. Who knows what might happen if he allowed his own bedroom to be DARK?!

No. He couldn't. No darkness.

Not after the last time.

Maybe he should try something else. Rather than an even spread of luminosity, he should concentrate it in a certain area and not leave unless it was necessary. Nothing could touch him. No darkness. No shadows. Nothing.

He tracked down an extra 4 lanterns and set up all of them – the total number now coming to 8 – in a circle on the floor, then seated himself in the centre, sighing in relief as he was finally surrounded by light.

No.

It was escaping. Up to the ceiling. Out to the sides and the walls. He needed to hoard it. Everything else could stay dark as far as he was concerned. So he found a blanket and draped it over his head, making sure to keep the lanterns as close as possible to inhibit the light. He didn't want it to get away. Precious illumination. He wouldn't be able to live without it.

Last time he was in complete darkness, he…

He ran his fingers through his hair, the mass of dark strands which hung loosely around his head and face and tickled his cheeks and forehead.

It was gone.

His ebony splendour. The long dark sheath of locks that he had brushed and combed for hundreds- no, for thousands of years. One second it was there and the next…

He hadn't seen it coming.

Literally.

"What the- you're a guy! Hey, come check this out, you'll never believe it! This one's a guy!"

"You what?! But look at him! There's no way, it's gotta be a chick. Right?"

"No seriously, it's a guy! Look, he's got a dick and everything!"

They decided to make it easier to tell the difference. One of them had restrained his companion, the one who was locked in the dungeon with him, pressing a gun against his head. That was the last thing he'd seen – his friend's terrified eyes focusing on the pistol being pressed against his skull – before darkness overtook him. Darkness became his entire world.

Stupid darkness…

His arms had been twisted up painfully behind his back, held in place by something thin, cold and smooth that felt like a cable tie which cut off his circulation and made his fingers feel numb, then his hair was seized and he was hanging by his ponytail and then…

Then it was gone.

He had fallen. Crashed down, no longer supported and still bound and blinded, to the cold stone ground. Not daring to talk or move or even breathe out of sheer terror. He felt dizzy. Lightheaded. Like he wouldn't even be able to stand up without falling over again. Fumbling gloved fingers had pulled the band around his wrists apart, leaving them sore and red, and strong arms had pulled his limp, unmoving body into a tight and protective embrace, and then there was a flicking noise as of a lighter being turned on.

Seconds later, the muggy and humid air of the cell was tainted by the stench of smoke and burning hair. He had never felt as helpless or weak as he did at that very moment, laying there in the arms of a man whom he had once cared for.

"If you take that blindfold off him, even for a single second, I'll put a bullet through both your brains. Understand, you psychotic freak of nature?"

"D-Da, I understand."

His hair didn't seem to be growing either. And it had taken well over a thousand years for him to get a length and style that he liked.

"Here, let me-"

"No! No, don't!"

"But they have gone! Surely it would now be safe to-"

"Please don't. I do not want to take any chances-aru. I cannot risk letting you be hurt too!"

And he had remained that way. In total darkness. Terrified that the next time the door opened would spell his doom for certain. And now he was petrified at the very concept of darkness because he knew, just knew, that something awful would happen if he allowed himself to live in gloom.

Or that he would feel those ice-cold tears once more dripping onto his neck.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"I'm sorry!"

"I said don't be-

"I'M SORRY!"

"…It's not your fault-aru."

"…I'm so sorry…"

"Don't be sorry. It's not your fault."

He heard the door to his room open and close, listened as footsteps approached and stopped, felt the floorboards bend beneath the weight of the newcomer who still had yet to speak.

To think he had dared to believe he could ever be strong and powerful in this day and age. But… but hadn't he been the one who defeated the Axis with little more than cooking implements? And weren't his people the inventors of kites and fireworks and compasses and all sorts of other things which people took for granted these days? He was one of the most powerful countries in the whole world!

Wasn't he?

Maybe he was just getting weaker as he got older. These old bones were growing tired. Maybe it was time he settled down and started to live a more peaceful life…

No. He was the People's Republic of China. The oldest nation on the face of the Earth. He'd be damned if he was even going to think about stopping now.

Then again, he was the oldest nation in the world…

He sighed and rubbed his forehead, resisting the temptation to bury his face in his hands and block out the much-desired light.

"Aiyah," he sighed, "four thousand years…"

He often wondered where all the time had gone. It felt like only yesterday that he was a small child, awakening in a forest of bamboo, or in his late teens and finding a little black haired boy in the same situation as he had been, or trying to keep the monstrosity of the Mongol Empire from assaulting the tiny scarf-wearing blonde who had only wanted to give the bully a sunflower.

Of course, the whole reason China had been there in the first place was that he was looking for the thief that had stolen a flower from his garden, but after seeing the kid's dilemma he couldn't help but take pity on him.

And sometimes it felt less like four thousand years and more like four million. He could easily recall what he had done a couple of centuries ago, but what about yesterday? And the day before that?

He glanced around at his lanterns. They didn't appear to have a lot of fuel left – only enough to last a quarter of an hour at least, half an hour at the most. He dreaded the moment he would have to get up and venture out into the darkness in order to find more.

Whoever was in front of him still hadn't moved since they came in. It was beginning to make him rather nervous. They probably didn't think he'd noticed them coming in.

"I can tell somebody is there-aru," he stated blankly. "Do you think you hide your presence? If so, I am afraid it not work-aru."

He was met with silence. Maybe the intruder was thinking.

"Who are you?" he asked. "What are you doing in my house-aru? I don't have to look to know you not Hong Kong or Korea, so reveal your identity or-"

The blanket over his head was whisked away.

China's eyes tracked up. And up. They finally came to a rest on a round, childish face with innocent violet eyes and an expression of concern and worry. For the smaller man, it was the last face he wanted to see.

"RUSSIA!" he screamed, leaping out of his circle of lanterns. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE-ARU?!"

"No," said Russia, "wait-"

"I-I don't want trouble," said China, scrambling back along the floor, "so whatever you want, j-just take it and go and please don't hurt me-"

"China, I would never try to hurt you," Russia said as he approached. "I only want to-"

"STAY AWAAAY!"

In his kicking, he accidentally knocked the giant's feet out from under him, landing them both in a… rather compromising position.

"I-If this is about what happened back in Atlantis' dungeon-aru," China choked, "I didn't-"

"I just want to talk," said Russia, sitting back on the floor.

"Please?"