Warning for onscreen killing, but this is still less horrible than last chapter. Last chapter I made a mistake - the real person's name was Dr Ishii, not Itou. Mr Itou is a manga artist, and I don't think either of them would be pleased by the comparison ;) Should I go back and edit, or does it not matter?
"Japan! You're calling me, mister stickler-for-rules?" Even through the static-riddled phone line, China sounded annoyed.
"I didn't want to, but it's an emergency," Japan replied, trying to hide his discomfort. "Korea's been missing for six months. I've had everyone looking for him - I've searched myself as much as I can - but there's no sign of him, so I can only assume he's outside the empire, and I guessed he'd come to you."
"What makes you think I'd send him back if he did?"
"Because he's supposed to be under my protection and you haven't officially tried to remove him from it! Conquering territories is one thing, but kidnapping them is just low."
"Some protection, if he ran away!"
"Look, will you at least tell me if you see him?" Japan snapped. "I don't want him wandering around on his own, you know what he's like." And I know what he's become, Japan thought to himself, reflexively rubbing his healed-up neck. I don't know what's up with him, but I have to find him. If he does that again with a human we'll both be in big trouble.
"True. I hope he hasn't happened to someone," China said with a snicker, clearly thinking of the innocent but annoying boy Korea had been. "Fine, I'll have my people keep an eye out."
"Thanks." Japan paused, then added "Er. China. I was just thinking. When we last spoke, did I ... do anything unusual?"
"What? No."
"Oh, well, that's a relief," said Japan happily, and hung up before China could figure out what he meant. Poor Korea hadn't known what he was talking about. Where had he picked up such an absurd idea? Japan would never stoop so low as to commit such an uncivilised act as rape. What was he, a mortal? ... Something about that rang a disturbing bell. What was it? Well, there was nothing he could do about it now. He picked up the phone again and dialled the Emperor's private line; better update him on the search.
Meanwhile, China tried to call back, but Japan was already calling someone else. China cursed loudly and threw his own phone across the room, ripping the wire out of the wall. He irritably rubbed at the sore patch on the back of his shoulder; the war had caused him a lot of aches and pains, but this one was persistent despite its small size. Sometimes he'd found little smears of blood on the inside of his shirt. He tried not to worry about it; he'd long since lost track of what was causing what.
Weeks passed with no news of Korea, and China started to get worried. Nations wandering off on their own wasn't unknown or particularly harmful - he remembered that fucking island - but to disappear completely was odd. The kid could probably take care of himself, but still. Maybe he should go looking. Surely it would only take a few days ...
A few days turned into a few months, as he tried to juggle the search with his involvement in the war effort. Concerned as he was, his own people came first. He made careful inquiries within the country's spy network, cross-referencing it with as much information as the worried Japan had dared to send, but found little concrete information. For the first time in years he managed to contact others within Japan's empire; Singapore and Hong Kong were terribly ill and bedridden under supervision from their Japanese governors, Taiwan was healthy and surprisingly happy but had no information. Korea was rather distinctive-looking, so he was sure the occasional reported sightings were really him, but the trail was long cold; Korea had been in Shanghai in May, and then nothing more. He didn't bother telling Japan. Let the little bastard worry.
In early January, he found a new trail; not for Korea, but for the sore on his shoulder. Pingfang. An area occupied by the Japanese. He'd heard rumours that prisoners were kept in a unit there, but nobody who'd gone to investigate more closely had returned.
Well, if they were being killed, he wouldn't have that problem. And this time the wound was small enough not to pose a hazard in itself, so he should be fine ...
"Boss?" he said, slinging his guns onto his shoulder and hip. "I've got a job to do. If I'm not back in twelve hours, come find me."
Dragon looked up and blinked at China. "Are you sure you want to do this alone, after ... last time?"
China looked down and muttered "I screwed up once. I know what not to do now."
Dragon protested, but did not order China to stop, so China was able to wave away his concern and set out for Pingfang alone. He needed this. He was strong again. He needed to prove he could handle himself alone.
As a nation, he could cover far more ground than a human, and he was led to the area by the slow increase of the stinging pain in his back. It was nothing compared to Nanking, but he still found himself clenching his teeth as the pain spread to his head.
When he finally saw the complex's outer wall, the pain spiked, suddenly, horrifically. All thoughts were driven from his mind as his nerves caught fire. His people were suffering in there, far worse than the simple imprisonment he'd expected.
Clutching his stomach with one hand and his head with the other, China fell to his knees, a thin scream emitting uncontrolled from his mouth. Fuck it hurts, what the hell is going on? ...
As he blacked out, he felt blood trickling down from the little wound on his shoulder.
China regained consciousness to find himself naked on a table, staring at white tiles. The pain in his head had subsided to a dull burn. His arms were pinned above his head, his ankles bound, and a cloth tied into his mouth.
No. Fuck, no. This can't be happening again, it just can't ...
He registered the stink of disinfectant. Something clinked beside him. Without turning his head, he glanced to the right. A stocky man in a labcoat was checking the edges on a row of scalpels.
Ah. Not much better. China concentrated on his bindings. Sturdy leather, holding his wrists and ankles at the corners of the table, more straps around his neck and hips, buckled tightly enough to dig in uncomfortably.
The doctor ran a scalpel tip along China's hand, the wound healing up as soon as it was made. He scraped the blood onto a microscope slide, muttering to himself. It took China a moment to translate the Japanese; "Yes, looks like we have another one ..."
Another? China put two and two together. Korea! Shit. He's been here! What did they do? No, doesn't matter right now, first I need to get him out ...
The doctor continued to talk to himself. "Better call Ishii-san, I wonder what he'll think ..."
While he wasn't as strong as America, in the prime of health China could still punch through a brick wall. Leather straps were no obstacle. His left hand pulled free and tore away the gag, while his right hand shot out and gripped the doctor's throat.
"Yeah, I don't think so." He kicked away his leg bindings and broke the straps around his body, not losing his grip on the human. He switched to speaking in Japanese. "See, this time I haven't been awake and unfed for a week, I haven't been listening to my people die all that time, and I don't have a gaping heart wound. Now tell me where my little brother is and I won't feed you your own guts. My brother? You can't miss him? Looks fifteen-ish, stupid-looking hair, heals up whatever it is you're doing to him?"
The doctor's eyes widened, and China relaxed his grip slightly, allowing the man to speak. "Y-you are Project Halfmoon's brother? Shit, he's mentioned you ..."
"Tell me where the fuck he is!" China snarled, shaking the doctor violently.
"Special cell. This building. Basement."
China looked at the doctor, and wondered if the man actually liked torturing people. He knew from experience that people often simply didn't think about it. It was easy to disassociate oneself. Too easy. Well, he couldn't exactly hold a fucking interview now.
"Thanks, you've been very helpful," he said, and snapped the man's neck.
The doctor's clothes were made for a shorter, bulkier man than China, and his shoes were far too big, but China could hardly walk around the building naked. He took a scalpel. Not much of a weapon, but better than nothing.