Yes , because I have no motivation to revamp KUWA and CS , I'm back with this horrible drabble of ... something . I just wanted to draw out the similarities and differences regarding Great Britain and Ming / Qing , which affected their ' sibling nations ' , USA and Korea ( in a whole ) .
You're somewhere between childhood and manhood , sustained by the arms of your father , your older brother , what you may call him . He is glorious and grand and golden , oh , so golden , and you love him to bits , this proud man with his horribly bushy eyebrows , as you see how he points out the outlines of your land , from where the sun sets to where the sea touches is thine , he chuckles , and you laugh along with him even when a part of you knows you are not entirely his , there are others , there were more , but he and his guns and germs and steel is what drives them away . You laugh because you love England , and you clap your hands together because you want to be ' just like him ' , and he thinks it a pipe dream , an impossible wish , say what you will , lad , he ruffles your hair , but you know you are not like your ' sibling ' ; you're not like Matthew , who is timid while he is bonny like you . He takes after the other figure waltzing through your door from time to time , ' big brother France ' is what he prefers to be called , and Matthew who is poised , elegant is perhaps more of his sire . No , you will never think what you have is enough , and deep down a part of you knows , one day you will push Arthur Kirkland away because you simply do not want to stand in his shadow .
But perhaps it is a horrible dream , and you think better of it .
He is not a child , he is a man grown , and he shines and shimmers in his silks , basking in the term ' older brother ' . Ming China is a glorious nation , and you have always , traditionally bent the knee to him because he knows more , his land prospers , and he has always had a spot for you in his large universe , a special spot , he declares . No , he is no older brother of yours , your father was murdered by his hands and your mother wept for a thousand years , but you pretend not to mind when he laughs at the notion that your king has made use of an alphabet , an alphabet you will not need , he whispers in your ear , ever - so - gentle but the knife drives deep . He cares for you ; more than he does for Kiku who he sometimes call ' lacking ' , whose country must learn from yours according to him , and Wang Yao plays the role of father and brother as he pours tea for you in the graceful celadon cup that was once yours , and mayhaps he thinks more of you when you are no longer the runny - nosed child you once were , but a graceful lady growing into adulthood . But whatever he thinks of you he is still a politician and he will play his cards , as must you . Your brother , yes , your true brother , blood of your own , sharpens his blade and licks his wounds , still fresh from multiple fights from the border , he refuses to play the ' cat ' s - paw ' any more , and he hates , oh , how he wishes death , but you cannot , and you will not , as you stare at Yao and his kind eyes .
Someone must be kind to others within this family , and it falls onto you .
You rustle around the sheets , your face is clammy from nightmares ; it doesn't happen very often but when they strike they are treacherous as you wipe the perspiration from your brow . You are the black sheep , the traitor , and you stand in front of a bloody field as Arthur calls out to you , but you never , not once , look back . You didn't blame yourself , just like Francis said you were supposed to ; you did what was right to save yourself , because you loved and protected , because you were , are the hero . But sometimes you think of other paths , other futures , and it riles you up , stirs the night air , makes you choke even when you take a gulp of water .
" Another nightmare ? "
Her voice is the state of calmness ; it has no rosy touch to it because she is not unfamiliar with nightly terrors , on the contrary , you remember hers as horrid , ghastly , wide - eyed teariness , and you recall you were not supposed to answer questions . After all , you forfeit the right to answer questions once you sign away the freedom of your companion , even if it was in the far past , ancient history . You did try to ask , once you crossed the sea between Japan and Korea , you really did , you tried to make a point , that you didn't know Japan was in the wrong , that Kiku was seemingly fond of his family , but she is shrewd and your words are excuses . They always are , when you two end up talking about things that are a century ago , before you two wound up together , the hero , the politician , and the beauty of the morning calm . You nod , you do not refer to yourself as the ' hero ' when you are to the rest of the world ; her brothers are the evildoers , her brother who attacked first , the other who came to his rescue , and perhaps Kiku . You are part of her politicians ' neverending propaganda as well , but while she is supposed to be easygoing , non - communist South , she does not fully trust you .
Ha - Yeon Lee presses a glass of water into your hand , not unkindly . It ' s not the first time she does so , and it will certainly not be the last ; she does not actually want to hear your bemoanings , you are a country that may or may not be younger than her and thus , have seen less terrors . Once you told her about Pearl Harbor , but just that once . You watched her face harden , resembling that of her estranged sibling , and you just had to notice that while she ' claims ' to hate North Korea , Ha - Eung Lee and she are too alike . They do not think your burdens are actual burdens ' because theirs were greater ' . She did comfort you about the plane that crashed into the World Trade Center , she even said I ' m sorry to hear that in a very pleasant voice , and you didn't see her for a while ; when you did finally run into her after a few weeks , she tried to literally fuck your problem out of your system .
It ' s how relationships work ; except you really did not want her to be so ... you don ' t really know . When soft lips brushed against your own and she held you before pushing you down to the bed , you appreciated it . After all , girls from her land are exquisite and she is their figurehead for a reason . You just didn ' t like it as much as you thought you would enjoy it , and she turned away when it was over . There are no pretty ways of explaining for her ; you did try to ask why , like the why you almost spoke all those years ago during the Forgotten War that you never really got a response to , but was met with only contempt on her pretty face . The only thing you got was a single pat on your shoulder ( as if it was supposed to solve your problems ) before she shook you off . Your friendship with her was supposed to be ' brotherly ' ; you play the watcher on the wall , the beacon of hope .
Well , it ' s not technically wrong , considering how those ' familial nations ' worked in the Northeastern Hemisphere . You know Wang Yao and Honda Kiku and the Lee twins were never really siblings . You know Wang Mei and Leon Wang - Kirkland are territories that ' belonged ' to China , the rest a fuzzy blur of companionship and reliance , with their own free will . And yes , you did see Kiku holding Mei ' s hand under the table more than once all those years ago . You do recall how pissed China was when Japan laughed , laughed harshly , saying something along the line of ' she is mine ' , which you do not think was a reference to Mei . You have more than an inkling about the said ' her ' . There is a bit of her that goes out to her former flame , laughing a bit too loudly when her former caretaker compliments her on the smallest things . She called him ' older brother ' with anger and fondness and a bunch of mixed feelings , and while you can call someone a ' gaslighter ' , you ' re sure Ha - Yeon Lee will slap you at the suggestion , even though you are the love interest .
Actually , you chortle as you recall she genuinely suggested a session for a shrink for you , not her . Something along the lines of ' you keep trying to fill in Great Britain ' s shoes ' , and a heated argument about how that wasn ' t a compliment . A shake of the head follows as you quench your thirst , put the cup back to where it belongs . A meeting has taken place in France , and ' big brother France ' has always been open to amour , and it was not even difficult to sneak out while the others ate and drank and got drunk - er ; it is never hard to say ' I missed you ' with or without alcohol , and her almond - shaped eyes opened and closed at your every word before you slid your hotel room key into where it belonged .
So here you are , with a stupid boy with pretty eyes who constantly has nightmares when he ' s all alone , then struts the streets at day without any complications . Here you are , with the richest boy anyone could grab , way above your station as some would claim , but you ' ve always been very ambitious , even when you were young you cared about the handsome heroes of the novels your older siblings read , checking if the ending was happy . You just did not expect him to be this ... this aloof ? This carefree ? This foolish ? You really are out of words . He was imposing in the past ; one moment he was all smiles then he flitted to anger . Traits that you later discover , formerly belonged to his ' brother ' , England , the former Great Britain . You did not have good impressions of foreigners , westerners , westerners always lie , and you are half right , considering America himself used to be a colony of England , considering what the European nations liked doing and refused to acknowledge .
You do try listening to what America says , because he does miss talking to Arthur in a familial manner , not one of brother and brother , but that of son and father , kind . You do want to genuinely show remorse at his loss , but you really can ' t talk about these things in the way he wants you to , because he is after all , the victor in that dynamic and it seems to mock her , loser , occupation , you were stupid enough to trust , and at the end of the day you cross your arms and try to ignore the fact that he did , maybe , believe things could go back to the way they were before he waged an entire war with Arthur Kirkland . Maybe you are jealous ; he took what was his and there is no - one stronger than he . If you were smarter you would flatter and coo to him , try to simper and say you understand , but you hate this handsome man with his flashy grin .
You hate the fact that his family is better than yours , that Matthew will talk to him while Ha - Eung will refuse your calls . You failed saving yourself a lot of grace , but he has , and he is a victor no matter how much men he lost , and when he says he looks up to Washington , there is a part of you that wants to pipe up that you also have a great general , he just passed away five centuries ago . Relationships aren ' t supposed to be a competition , and you disgust yourself . A bit . It isn ' t Alfred Jones ' fault that he decided to stand up to his brother , a person he admired and loved . Just because he won doesn ' t mean he is always happy , and he ' s not asking for much when he wants to talk about simpler times , misses easier days .
Coldness envelops you as you tie your bathrobe tighter around your waist , resting your head on the pillow , pushing yourself back into the sheets . He probably smiles and throws jokes because it ' s his defense mechanism , just like you sashay and kiss and smile coyly because it was what ' good wives did ' back in the Chosun dynasty when the household fell apart . Chosun is gone but a bit of it still stands , and not every old custom is good . You know Alfred Jones ; he is well off compared to the others , but ' economically healthy ' does not match one ' s mentality . There is no way to go but down , and he does not wish to become his predecessor . He has no inclination to go down without a fight , so the rest of them are ' villains ' making him the ' hero ' .
Alfred Jones hugs you , tightly , something fierce . He says nothing as he returns to his quiet vigil , his effort of going back to sleep , and you could sing him a lullaby , just like your own brother , his own brother did . You had a mother , Silla , and she sang you songs . You don ' t know if he ever had one ; you didn ' t bother with questions . You are not his mother , and he is not your son . So , you settle with ruffling his hair , because you are both broken shards of separate vases , that your brothers did not bother to pick up , because your pieces do not fit perfectly and maybe this relationship isn ' t that healthy either . But when your chin rests against his arm , it doesn't feel that awful , that Britain and China were perhaps not the best options to nurture children , that you and he will never be ' perfect ' in the way society requires .
" Good night . "
" Sweet dreams . "