Faintest Light in the Dark [Japan,China]

[china]

Until you feel you’ve satisfied your curse

No one here is throwing stones

But you have got to drop your own

LOCATION: Outside of Sendai(at the END of Post)
“With support from countries around the world,
including China,
Japan will certainly overcome the difficulties
and rebuild the homeland.”
-- Japanese Ambassador to China Uichiro Niwa

He wasn’t ever supposed to forget. That was one downside of being over four thousand years old—forgetting the past was not an option for him. What was to be learned from past mistakes, what he was supposed to take from them; they served him well. He had not perished, China had survived. He took his mistakes, and turned them into lessons for the young—he took his knowledge, and turned (eventually) it into money and success. Wang Yao was a world power, was he not? Then why—why did he allow the nation to prevail over the person within? He was not a person, he—he shouldn’t care if his siblings starved; not even if they died, nor faded before him. Yao was the eldest, surely they would not weep if he disappeared into the unknown one day. They’d grown selfish, resentful, and normally turned blind eyes to him in favor of the Western ideals. It was like a plague, and even then—Yao could not hate. He couldn’t not love his siblings; he couldn’t forget the love they all shared, once upon a time. He couldn’t act like a nation. Not now.

His eyes trailed up the long, hard tiles that would lead him to the office of his “Boss.” Lips thinly pressed into a line, his eyes looked oddly red near the corners and near the pupil. His breath was coming in short gasps, wisps of air that made him inhale sharply; leaving even faster then when his lungs expanded with the stress. Pushing open the doors, he stepped within the office. Suddenly, the ancient nation was assaulted with voices. Not directed at him, but instead, Hu Jintao, the current President of the communist party—and leader of China.

”We cannot sit here and do nothing, zhǔ​xí​.” Yao winced internally, hearing the undertone of bite in the voice of his Foreign Minister. ”It is the largest Earthquake on the records we have, it’s a monster—and the world will know in less then twenty four hours, I assure you. What do we have to lose? The United States has already pledged aid, we don’t have to pledge, but let us do something!”

[/color] The voice of Zhai Jun towered above all others, despite how the angry scowls hounded him. Those eyes, burrowing holes into the Minister’s back; labeling him silently as a traitor, perhaps sympathizer to some of the less inclined towards hatred for the Japanese. Yao’s heart felt heavy, like a stone settling in the pit of his stomach. His heart was being ripped open, and the wounds he hid from not only the past World War were beginning to show. The nation couldn’t eat, nor sleep. His body was suffering with unrest, be it his own doing—or the public; all of whom had their eyes on him.

”Sù​jìng​!” His leader cried, making Yao’s shoulders stiffen and spine shiver under the pressure, he'd forgotten the power that voice held. His eyes were still downcast, and the Chinese man blended into the room as best as he could. ”I understand your argument, Bùzhǎng, but we must not rush into this. We had riots breaking out not even two weeks ago, and now we rush to aid the ones our people hate?”[/color] Jintao’s voice calmed with each word, and the tension in the room dissipated; even if it was only slight. Yao didn’t need to look up to see that the man’s eyes were on him, taking his form into consideration. Orbs raking him for any sign of wound, be it mental or physical; once he was certain that Yao could speak—he did what Wang Yao didn’t want him to do most of all. ”Minister, please tell me, who do you think will stand on this proposal you make? With such odds against you, surely you have supporters somewhere in China.” The Foreign Minister clenched his jaw, knowing none of which that were in office he could appeal to instantly. Yao understood the game his boss was playing, and despite himself, couldn’t turn away the bait dangling before his nose.

”I stand with him,” with his voice now rubbed raw with strain, eyes turned to him in shock and dismay. ”I, Wang Yao, agree that China needs to at least offer aid. Yes, we disagree, and no—I don’t ask of anyone to change their minds about Japan. But not offering support in this dire time will cost us in the eyes of the world. In the eyes of our people, what can we say to them when we cannot—“ cut off, another raised his voice in turn. ”You just have Rìběn gǒu for family, don’t you? What—is one of your precious daughters married to such filth? Dishonor upon your name for such an action happening within your household!” A fury built within the nation as his nose scrunched and his insides clenched around one another; as if making some sort of mesh sphere out of his internal organs. His breath was held, and he attempted to close his eyes, hiding that wrinkled face from his line of vision. ”Those so quick to jump to aid those wáng​bā​dàn are traitors to China! You, are no different. Let those Japanese sink within their little, American-run island! Saves us some missles—“ At that point, Wang Yao’s legendary self-control shattered.

His hands went for the throat of the other man, using one arm to shove his elbow into the torso of the elder—and then his index and thumb to cradle the delicate bones of the neck near his larynx. Clenching as hard as he could without breaking those two discs and tendons that kept his head attached to his shoulders and jaw. Eyes narrowed, he glared hatefully into the eyes of one of his own. ”Don’t talk as if it was you that Japan sought out to slaughter. You owe this to your ancestors! To show them that we can move from the past onward, this is not your battle anymore!” He yelled, voice barreling through the stunned silence. Jintao rose from behind his desk, moving to grasp his tensed shoulder—and pull him away from the man whom had insulted his name…and family. ”Enough, Yao. Let go of him, I have reached my decision.”[/b] Slowly, the nation let go of the man, more then pleased with himself when hacking came from the elder as he clenched at his already bruising throat. The angry shade of red rising from broken blood vessels in his neck, although none were life threatening.

”We will offer Japan aid in the form of money, supplies, and men. Consider it pay for their aid during our own natural disasters. I will hear no more. Minister, please inform the media—as well as the United Nations. Such aid will not be sent unless Japan ratifies it first.”[/color] Bowing, either out of sentiment or fear; the men began to leave one by one. The hand on his shoulder loosened, but did not let go. ”Yao, stay, it is important we talk.”[/b] Yao felt his shoulders sink, shame filling him for failing in keeping his mentality together. His strength was not to be used in hostile manners, but defense—he’d broken his vow, not to Jintao, but himself. ”I am—I am sorry, I didn’t mean for that to—happen.” Holding up one worn looking hand, the dictator moved back to his desk and slid off his glasses. Rubbing his eyes while cradling the bridge of his nose. ”Do not apologize to me, China. I—need to know something. What you said, that this is not our battle. Do you truly feel that way? You know we have only known one another for thirteen years, and I still struggle with the idea of what you are.”

Yao felt his body shaking slightly, the shame had not lifted. Added to his stress now was the feeling of disgust. If he knew the answers, if any, he would tell his boss. He was secure in knowing what he was, but these questions—he didn’t…he was so old, and he still couldn’t answer them. ”You are not the only one, huīxià.” Laughing weakly, Jintao took his place back in the chair. Sliding on his glasses as he looked at the Chinese memorabilia on the walls. ”You were the one that saw this, with your own eyes, is that right? You, out of us all, understand what it is like still to feel such distrust. Then tell me, why did you choose this path?”[/b] Internally, Yao understood. His words meant little to the dictator, the man could send nukes Japan’s way with one motion of his hand. It was curiosity, Jintao wanted to understand—even though his mind was made up from the meeting beforehand.

”What do you want me to say?” Yao responded softly, his eyes diverting from the stony gaze of his boss. ”I’ve lived it. Every second before, and every following second after; the Japan I knew was—smart, polite, shy, and—even I was surprised to find such rage underneath his bindings. I know I can blame him all I want for the past, but this—this is not by Japan’s hand.” He braved one look towards his boss, seeing the man’s hands propping up his chin. Jintao was silent still, and observing him calmly. So—he allowed himself to continue. ”Japan did nothing to invoke such death and devastation! The bombs—the camps, that is the past. People are dying now, and the longer we wait the more destruction we cause unknowingly. I know China hurts, I know. But I cannot stand by and watch this unfold, thank you for offering China’s aid to Japan.” Bowing his head, he heard the dictator rise again from his chair. Moving to clasp one heavy hand on China’s petite shoulder. ”You’re thinking of that man—what was his name? Ah, yes, Kiku. You’re thinking of Kiku, aren’t you?”[/b] Yao’s eyes shot open, his breath silent and halted as he looked upwards. ”You kept on calling Japan ‘him’ again, this is personal for you, isn’t it? No—you’re right. It is more then that. I suppose with all you have seen and felt, even nations get exhausted. I warn you in advance, China, that the man in which you protect has changed with time. As have you. Do not let him be your downfall, I will not let you fall, China.”[/b]

Releasing the breath he held, the nation shifted as his eyes closed once more. Deep in thought, trying to find the words that would please his boss. ”I will not. I have come too far.” The sound of his boss’ footsteps went away from him, and carefully—Yao lifted his head and opened his eyes, gazing directly into the window behind his boss’ chair. ”I have a request, I wish to leave for Japan with the volunteers of China’s Red Cross Foundation. They have some heading for the islands right now, I—I need to go. Please.” His boss downturned his lax lips, turning to gaze at Yao with conflicted eyes; he could hear the man going over such options in his head. In the end, if he was denied, there was nothing he could do to rebel against such orders.

”You truly do care for him. I will grant it, on one condition. You allow no one to see you. If anyone asks your name, or where you are from—you lie. I cannot have you appearing on the news, or to any higher authorities in Japan. It will seem—questionable. Go, before I change my mind.” Jaw almost dropping, Yao bowed his head and excused himself instantly. Heading towards his quarters to pack, as well as take what he could with him to the boarding plane meant specifically for the Emergency Red Cross of China. Telling no one his ‘true’ name, he simply adopted one from his past; Hua.

The plane could not leave soon enough, and as soon as he was boarded—the elder looked at his phone. The trip to Japan would only take a few hours, where as America would take nothing short of twelve hours. He hoped Russia would not be upset with him, as long as he laid low—he could help the Japanese before Japan allowed him to ‘give aid.’ More importantly—he could help Kiku. So many things had been left unsaid between the two since their last bickering over the islands, and—if anything happened to his little one; Yao wasn’t completely certain how he would react. If he even could. Kiku, please do not—do not push yourself. I know you are hurting, little brother. I’ve done what I can here, I only hope I can be of some aid over in your presence.

He honestly didn’t want to think of who would be frustrated with him. Even Kiku himself might not approve of his sudden insertion into the Japanese affair. His plane did not land until it got the radio confirmation to land, excusing himself from the crew once he was unpacked, the sight was not something anyone, nor any video camera, could prepare him for. His eyes widened, his once heavy heart was now pounding. His body throbbed, but he was unable to find the peace that normally washed over him with his intense training and meditation practices. No—no, this—this cannot be. Kiku, I—I have to find you. Now.

[/blockquote][/font]


NOTES: I don’t think I have to give much detail for this one, but there are references to the war crimes in WWII that Japan committed on China. Most of the beginning is head!muse, getting Yao there. Herpderp. It sucks.. sorry. I also apologize for using Jintao, but that’s the only man able to get Yao over there without well.. pissing himself off too much? Just refer to him as “boss” if it bothers you~ okay?

* Hua; means “Flower-like” or “Done with Grace or Elegance” → When China did not have a name, it was called this. Used from 2000BC until as late as 150 BC.
* Sad thing, I’ve been reading some Chinese blogs. The citizen represents some of the negative comments I have seen. No. I did not make that line about “saving some missles” up. Depressing, isn’t it?
* The articles below help with this one. There is mixed..feelings in China. But in the end, they offered money and aid. More then what I was expecting at least.
* Three months ago, Japan and China had a dispute over the islands to the north; a fishing boat was caught and held. Tempers flew, but—now they are (surprisingly) supportive of one another. Yao brings this up to prove that they can work together.
* China was the second nation to respond, and the first to arrive. If you don’t count the US Navy/Bases on Japan that have been aiding a few days earlier.
* Many (even the Chinese Premier Wen) say China has empathy because it is also an earthquake-prone country and he pointed to Japanese aid to China after the Wenchuan earthquake in 2008.
* Right now, China has donated 40 mil. The numbers are expected to rise, however.

TERMS
zhǔ​xí​ – Leader
sù​jìng​! – (please) Be Quiet! = polite
Bùzhǎng – Minister (Title)
Rìběn gǒu – Slang, insult to Japanese People. Rough translation = Japanese “Dogs.”
wáng​bā​dàn – Bastards
Huīxià – “Under Your Flag” Use term for a leader (?)
Didi – Little Brother

www.ft.com/cms/s/0/40510292-4d6e-11e0-85e4-00144feab49a.html
www.vanguardngr.com/2011/03/china-sends-assistance-to-japan/
english.peopledaily.com.cn/90001/90776/90882/7319412.html

[nihongo]

Ever since he’d arrived at the National Diet building early in the morning there had been a sense of uneasiness that settled uncomfortably at the pit of his stomach. Kiku had allowed himself to wander through both wings of the building; his apparent age earned him strange looks as usual from both Houses, despite his dark and neatly pressed suit. Kiku chuckled to himself as the usual bickering seemed to be the priority of both of the Houses, and soon left when he felt that perhaps there was no real need for him to be there. He sometimes wondered what the Diet members thought of him, and if they wondered who he was.

As he walked towards the Prime Minister’s office, he looked down at his left shoulder. The deep ache that started grew steadily and soon had him gritting his teeth. His body shook violently and he nearly collapsed against a wall. Suddenly the floor beneath him and the wall supporting him shook just as violently.

“Honda-san!”

He heard the Prime Minister’s voice behind him, and though he tried to turn he was unable to. Soon, he felt the man’s hands grip his shoulder firmly and pulled him under a table. Kiku could hear vases and picture frames falling off tables and walls, shattering against the floor as his people cried out in surprise and shouted out orders to take cover.

“Daijin-sama…” Kiku finally grit out as he opened his dark eyes to look at his Prime Minister’s worried face.

“A strong earthquake, are you able to tell…? Where it’s from?” The man asked, his face filled with uncertainty. Of course, their bosses could never fully understand what they could and could not do. Kiku took deep breaths, trying to strengthen himself against the violently shaking ground and his own trembling body.

“No… it is not on the land. From… the ocean,” Kiku hissed and then his eyes widened as his mind instantly realized what would soon happen. He tried to bolt out from under the desk, but the Prime Minister’s firm hold kept him there until the quake settled.

“No doubt there will be aftershocks. Honda-san, come, we must find out what happened. And start to ready the population for what will happen,” Kiku slowly stood up, the deep ache still there in his bones as they hurried towards the Prime Minister’s office. The phone was ringing and the Prime Minister forced Kiku down into a chair before rushing to quickly answer it.

Kiku took out his own cell phone and paused, looking at his PM’s shocked face falling into something like uncertainty and disbelief, before putting his phone back into his pocket. The man hung up the phone and looked at Kiku, “The Meteorological Agency has just announced that was an 8,9 earthquake off the Northwest coast of Japan..”

“The coast… then they’ve put out another warning.”

“Tsunami warnings have been issued,” He looked at Kiku as he answered his unspoken question, his lips pressed into a grim line. Kiku’s hands tightened into fists as he looked sideways at the crooked and barely hanging paintings. “Please stay here, I shall have someone escort you—.”

“No. Daijin-sama, I must go. The aftershocks will not be as bad.” Kiku frowned as he looked back at the man, his gaze stern. Probably, he added mentally.

“No, you ca—.”

“I… I can’t stop a tsunami, there’s nothing I can do about that. But I can’t stay here while I know and feel the waters destroying the land and killing my people. Daijin-sama, please do not stop me, you know I will end up going.”

The Prime Minister’s gaze narrowed as he stared at Kiku, but the resignation in his eyes showed that he knew he was not going to change Kiku’s mind.

Kiku joined the Self Defense ground Force, trading in the pressed suit for a camouflage uniform. Somehow he felt more comfortable in it and frowned as he reached into his pocket for his phone, realizing that there was no cell signal and looked instead towards the commander of his squad.

The entire way there, he could felt the sickening crawl of water and debris destroying its way inland. Sweeping houses and cars away as it rushed forward; a monster that aimed to take everything in its wake.

"We are under orders to find people. Survivors or victims, I don't think there is anybody alive but we will look," the commanding officer stated, his face grim and determined. Clearly, he expected to find more of the latter then the former—if they were to find anyone alive at all.

As they reached Miyagi Prefecture’s capital of Sendai, Kiku finally saw just how badly it had been. Everything he felt, and still felt, grew in intensity and he gripped his gloves in his hands tightly before putting them on. Muddy water squelched under their boots as they began to press forward, heading first for the relief center to plan out their search teams and set up head quarters of sorts.

His stomach tightened as he watched his people wandered through the streets, or what could barely count as street anymore, their faces somber and determined. Some wandered towards houses that looked completely gutted, but stood almost proud and alone amidst overturned cars and wood. Between the splintered wood there were popped footballs, twisted metal of bed frames and telephone poles, bottles and plastics.

Cars. Cars were randomly placed — upside down, nose down — within the rubble, small macabre gifts laid out for them to find.

He grit his teeth as he felt an aftershock tear through him, the second one he’d felt in the last three hours. Kiku refused to show any semblance of pain or discomfort as he was put into a four man team. They were to start out to the west of the center; a school in that direction that also was supposed to hold many people was their first destination.

“We must hurry, it’s already mid-day and we have to make use of what daylight we have. It’s important we find people as soon as possible,” The team leader said as they readied as quickly as possible to head out. Two of their assigned members were medics and their bodies were hunched over equally with water and medical supplies. Kiku adjusted the large army phone system on his back that would keep them in touch with their ‘base’ and moved to follow.

---

<sub>Notes: I couldn't use myself to use Kan Naoto's name, the current Japanese PM, so this is just a man named Prime Minister. But most of this is just to get Kiku to Sendai. The descriptions are of course, as exact as I could make them.

-san // Japanese suffix, formal
-sama // Japanese suffix, more formal then -san
-Daijin // Prime Minister


Quote from the commanding officer taken from here, as well as most of the description of the post-tsunami area: www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/world/la-fg-japan-coast-scene-20110314,0,4505974.story

Japan Meteorological Agency: www.jma.go.jp/jma/indexe.html</sub>

[china]

M

[/color]ornings were not supposed to look like this. The sky, the streets, the homes; nothing looked like anything anymore. It was as if someone had taken the entire city of Sendai, placed it in a blender, and then hit the highest setting before walking out of the room. Yao was speechless, and not because he had not seen devastation before; just nothing on a comparable scale matched to that of what he was viewing. Japan had earthquakes before, as well as tsunamis. He should have been prepared. His people—they took pride in being prepared, didn’t they? There was no reason that this should have happened, Kiku should have been more then ready for impeding natural disasters. There is no way to be ready for this, Kiku has done what he can. It is the aftermath, hopefully. I can’t—imagine what he is feeling now. Didi, I will come for you. No matter what—even if you hate me for it.[/color]

As far as he could see, there were people waist-deep in water, some even more then that. The cars floating in the caress of water, people’s hands and bodies covered with dark residue, looking for loved ones—or attempting to aid others in more dire situations. His Chinese team began to have issues right from the beginning. As soon as they had landed and unpacked, the translators attempted to speak with the Japanese stranded near the base. Those of whom knew the symbol of China, and could plainly see it on the airplane that brought them to the outskirts of the site. It might have seen ungrateful to some, but Yao quickly understood that it was fear that kept the Japanese population on its toes as they arrived to give what they could. His translator seemed to be having an issue keeping up with the quickly speaking Japanese man, whom was holding his little daughter close to his chest protectively out of the raging waters. Déjà vu flashed before his eyes, and in his mind he was coddling the smaller version of Kiku in his arms; before the younger had refused being carried aloft like some ‘child.’

A weak smile came on his lips, and the struggling Chinese translator was gently tapped on the shoulder. Turning around to see Yao or ‘Hua’ there, he bowed his head. They were all rushed, all rampant with emotions and fear. Aftershocks could come at any second, and every human being, Chinese or Japanese—feared what that would bring. ”Allow me to take care of this, please. I can speak rather—fluently.” His translator looked up with wide eyes, but nodded as he moved back to the plane to aid in unpacking of what little water, food, and equipment they could carry from the mainland. Turning his gaze to the still frantic Japanese man with his daughter trembling in those arms, Yao attempted to softly soothe the situation. ”It’s alright, everything is okay, aru. We are from the mainland, but we are only here to help you. Are you alright? Is your daughter alright, aru?”[/i] One might have thought that he disregarded Japanese as nothing but slaughter to his languages. Yet even when Kiku had entered isolation, he had studied and spoken it—perhaps out of the lonesomeness; the feeling of ice cold defeat when the young man turned his back on China.

”Y-yes, we are alright. I—I cannot find my wife, there was a band of Japanese medical teams that passed by some time ago. I—I heard that they had a base for survivors. B-before we were to be taken farther away, I hope—I need to get there, but I’m not sure where it is.” There was a lingering question behind that look, and Yao tried to understand it as curiosity. Yet he knew far better, the man was distrusting him; because he was of Chinese origin, no doubt. ‘Why would China send aid?’ That question loomed in the back of the man’s tongue, his daughter shifting in his arms to peek at Yao over her long cascade of black hair. She seemed more oblivious, far too innocent to understand the past that strained the relationship between Chinese and Japanese. ”A-are y-y-you going to help us find mommy?” Her voice was soft, broken—and it wounded Yao horribly to think that he might have been too late to accept such promises. ”I’ll do whatever I can, little one, aru. I can’t promise anything right now besides your safety. But I can promise you that I will see it that you both are brought to the shelter, aru.”[/i] The little girl looked distraught, heartbroken—but mixed in with the sorrow that her mother would not be joining them; she seemed happy that they were being ‘saved’ from the waterlogged streets.

”Thank you,”[/i] the man whispered; seeming less panicked now as the rest of the Chinese team came into formation. Ready to make their way towards the base, and taking what little survives that wandered with them. ”I never thought that—I—I’m glad that you are here to help my family, can I have your name?”[/i] Yao laughed gently, even more amused then ever at how Kiku’s people followed the same pattern of polite manners that he did. ”Just call me Hua, aru. It’s not much of a name—but it will do. Come on, we are starting the walk, you seem tired. Want me to carry your daughter, aru?”[/i] Glancing at Yao, the man nodded; his exhaustion showing now that his adrenaline faded. Slowly moving the young girl in his arms, the small child looked up to him with shining dark eyes. As scared as she was, the little thing seemed joyous; grasping onto Yao’s shoulders and wrapping her small arms around his neck. Supporting her by the waist, the Chinese walked alongside of those carrying supplies.

”You’re going to stay—aren’t you, Hua-sama?”[/i] She whispered gently, voice barely audible to him. Shaking his head, he leaned down to respond as the doors were forcefully pried open due to the water that had surged through the first floor. ”No, not for long. I have someone I’m looking for too, aru.” Her grip tightened on his shirt, and his gaze darkened with the somber choice he had to make. At least he could offer his condolences to the father, and promise to look for the mother while he was scanning the grounds for Kiku. ”I’m sorry, but I will look for your mother while I am out helping. I promise, aru.”[/i] Once they were in the barracks, he set the small child down on one of the beds that were being set up by his people. The Red Cross was now working frantically to get medical aid to the wounded, as well as hand out necessary supplies. ”Both of you, rest now. You must take care of yourselves, aru.”[/i] He took one step backwards, pivoting to head towards the crowded tent that bared the medical symbol.

”Wait!” Under his feet, like a rush air; the small child tried to push her hands into his legs to stop his advance. Looking up once more, she offered an extended pinky to him. ”Promise? Promise you’ll look for my mommy, and you’ll come back, Hua-san?” Yao felt his lips twitch before upturning. He—missed the innocence of children, the way they could not judge simply because they knew no better then what they saw. ”Of course, aru. Be a good girl while I am gone?”[/i] Linking his pinky with her own, he let go after a moment and watched as the girl nodded happily. Rushing back towards her cautiously observative father, whom welcomed her back into his arms as his eyes never left Yao’s back.

He doubted that they ever did, at least not until he was inside the tent. Medics crowded around the archaic looking electronic device. The only thing that was receiving and transmitting in this mess; the sounds of jambled Japanese word leaked through. His translator was again making contact with the Japanese rescue team, telling of their position and those that they had found along the way. One voice, in the background, made his heart stop. ”Kiku?—please, get out of my way!” nudging the others away, he took the transmitter and spoke into it in a blur of mixed emotion. ”Kiku! Kiku--! Can you hear me, it’s—it’s me.”[/i] The signal had broken, the static making it obvious that nothing had gone through. Scowling, he slammed the speaker down and glanced at the man who had been speaking to them before his arrival. ”Where was that! Where are they?!”

The translator whom he knew from prior felt his jaw drop before stiffening. ”They are going in farther, they said. To a school, not too far from here. I—wait! Where are you--? You can't just go after them!” Yao scoffed, grasping one of the pre-made backpacks that carried water, rations, and other medical gear for him to use. ”There is no choice for me, stay here. I’ll contact you when I find the group.” The translator frowned, still not too keen on the idea of having ‘Hua’ run out on his own to chase some phantom group. ”The captain will have your ass, he’ll have my ass for letting you just run off!” Yao shrugged nonchalantly, going against his ideal of hierarchy and manners in order to get to Kiku in time. He would toss aside his own pride for this, more then his pride—if it came to that. ”Then don’t tell him.” With that, he was off, back knee-deep in water as he trudged towards the direction of the school. Deeper in the districts of Sendai, remembering his promise as he did so.

What are you thinking, Kiku? You’re—you are not ready to deal with this. You’re body is going to collapse if you keep going! Don’t be so selfless, you idiot. Pushing his shoulder against hard, solid debris or walls that he could find; Yao worked his way through the ruins of Sendai. Knowing he was only going in the right direction when the sounds of human voices reached his ears. Speaking again in the native tongue, he frowned and pushed himself up from the now waist-deep water. Eyes scanning for any sign of the nation, his kin. You have to be here, Kiku. I’m running out of places to find you.

Sudden cracking of materials caught his attention, only in time to see a tree fall onto one of the tents that had been pitched by the Japanese rescue teams. Screeches from within made his mind blank; going simply into autopilot as he pushed through towards the tent. Other survivors had taken notice and rushed to the aid of those trapped within, none had been crushed (thankfully) but the tree made it impossible to get out the proper end. ”Relax, aru. Let me help, stand clear!” The Japanese onlookers gazed at him curiously, some with mistrust as they took some steps back to give Yao room. Digging through his pack, the elder nation grasped a pocket knife; cutting through the sinew of the tent to create the opening that those trapped could use to crawl out of the crushed thing. ”There, everyone is alright?”[/i] His accent was apparent in Japanese, and the civilians he had managed to get out were almost teary-eyed at who had released them. Most were still too shaken to speak, and simply nodded their thanks to him.

One woman in particular had her arm scraped by the metal bindings within the tent. When it had crashed upon her, it took a large chunk of skin and flesh from her; hiding it with her hand out of pride. Yao noticed the blood, and instantly went to her. Taking some disinfectant as well as bandages, urging her to sit as he tended to her wound. Wrapping it as tight as possible to aid in clotting so the bleeding would end. Her words soft, thanking him even as those that crowded around him watched out of utter surprise.

I suppose I can’t blame you for wanting to help. After all, things would be a lot worse if we didn’t.
[/blockquote][/font]



* "Italics" --> Japanese, because I am lazy.
* Italics --> Thoughts, obviously?
* "Aru" is actually an accent that Japanese use to distinguish Chinese from Japanese. That is why it randomly appears here--and not in all my other Yao!Speech.

Mmm, I think that is all for this one. BT Dramatic!Yao is dramatic. Idon'teven.

[nihongo]

The longer he spent within Sendai and the deeper he went into the affected zone, the more Kiku was reminded of the Second World War. The devastation left by the tsunami looked almost like the aftermath of the bombings to his lands did. Fires burned, ruptured gas lines that had been lit by something raged on top of water, feeding off the unlimited supply of gas and wood. There were constant reminders of the past for him, gnawing sharply at his hidden guilt. There were many people they’d rescued that also seemed to remember as he did.

“You are too young boy to even remember, but this… I was a little girl when my town was bombed by the Americans,” An old woman said to him as he carried her towards the truck they were using to transport the women, elderly and children. Her long grey hair was pulled into a braid and her glazed eyes watched the destruction as Kiku gently sat her on the truck. “But just like then, will make do with what we have for as long as we need to. War didn’t make Japan buckle, and neither will nature.”

There was one thing that alleviated the pain he could still feel in his body and heart, his people. His heart was near bursting with pride for them. Young and old were doing the best they could, trying to gather supplies to save whatever and whomever they could. Their faces were grim, but still so hopeful and determined as they refused to let the devastation keep them from setting some sort of routine to help them cope. He constantly stopped, offering clean water to many of them, only to be waved away and pointed in the direction of someone that perhaps needed it more, “I don’t need any right now young man, but if you go that way for a few yards, Hideki-san will need some.”

Kiku would occasionally stop and pull down the old radio and call back to announce what they had or had not found, and when they moved. They had to keep in contact, in order to keep groups from overlapping and perhaps missing an area, missing people.

It was nearly reaching the end of the morning when he radioed in their current position. The area was flooded waist deep in water, and he could clearly remember that it had been the outskirts of a town, the area around it once home to farmland.

“This is the second rescue team reporting in, we’ve arrived at our destination, and found few people along the way… with many deceased,” Kiku’s voice broke slightly, but knew that the slight would easily be hidden by the crackling in the transmission. There was a slight pause before the other side responded, “Second rescue team, accounted for. More teams have arrived… one being a Chinese rescue team.”

Kiku’s brows furrowed in confusion and he wondered if perhaps he had misheard. “A Chinese rescue team?”

“Yes, they arrived not long ago with some survivors they managed to find.”

Kiku was quiet as he let his mind process this. He had not… expected such an action from China, at most he’d believed he would receive ‘sincere’ condolences and would depend on American and other international aid. Did this mean… that perhaps Yao might have convinced someone to send aid? With a frown, Kiku shook his head, Don’t go overanalyzing others again. This could be nothing more than a way to shine a good light on themselves.

But the small bud of gratefulness that blossomed within him refused to lose hope that perhaps… perhaps things were starting to move forward again.

“Very well, we will need to rearrange the search areas to include them. We need all the help we can get right now to save as many people as we can.” Kiku paused as he looked out to the rest of his team, the other soldiers were pointing out in the distance towards a large building, a school. One of the windows was opened and a woman poked out outside and when she caught sight of him, waved her arms.

“We found a school building where there seems to be survivors, we will need to get a boat to go over and rescue, and may take the rest of the day here.”

The radio crackled as if in protest of the constant use, it was an old thing a relic from the 1970’s, but still usable. Only the occasional disruptions plagued it, but at least it was something.

He passed the radio onto another man of the team, and spoke with their captain, “We left a small boat back with the truck about half a kilometer back the way we came from. I can go back with a few others to get it, and then we can start rescuing people from the school building.”

The captain looked at the building and the surrounding area, knowing that the water was deeper then it appeared, and having his men trudge in wet clothing was dangerous, especially with the cold weather that threatened to snow.

“Alright, Honda, Takeda and Hirata will retrieve the boat, and we’ll get started on clearing an area. See if you can bring the truck as well… we’ll hopefully have to use it more on transporting survivors back to where the Red Cross medical tents are.”

Kiku nodded and moved to gather the other two men to take back with him. The way back was quicker, as they weren’t as focused on searching areas they already had quite as intently as they did before. As they neared the large tents with the visible Red Cross on a white field, they heard an intense crack. In horror Kiku watched as a tree finally gave and fell onto one of the tents. Without thinking, he dropped his half empty pack and ran forward, his hip and aching body’s pain ignored as he heard his people’s terrified screams.

Somehow, a cut was made and the people trapped inside were able to get out. Medics soon swarmed them to look for injuries, but Kiku saw none of that as he watched a nation kneel down to tent to a young woman’s bleeding arm.

“Yao-san… it was true,” Kiku whispered to himself at the sight of his ‘brother’. The urge to run up to him was nearly as strong as the urge to turn and simply get the boat and leave was.

“I did not expect to see you here… even though I had heard of the Chinese sending us aid.”

[china]

If he could smile, he would have offered the largest one to the Japanese male before him. The entire time he had volunteered his time, perhaps it was the odds stacked against him that he would see Kiku that kept him sane through the insanity whirling past. Dark amber eyes turned from the woman he finished bandaging, her soft thanks coming to deaf ears. Yao stared at Kiku, tangles of emotion wafting through him; seeing the other nation there, battered—but oddly alright despite the circumstances. He’d panicked for nothing, hadn’t he? The sound of a sigh escaped his lips, and he turned his back to Kiku for one second; gathering the thoughts he wanted to convey as he smiled softly at the woman. Her newly bandaged arm perfectly taunt, tied off in a bow. Thank the ancestors he still remembered how; Taiwan had fallen more then once when she was still but a child. He learned the hard way to make her feel better about scrapes and bruises, the body would still hurt—but at least she was taken care of properly. Wang Yao would have not seen it any other way.

Raising himself from his knees, the Chinese brushed some of the dirt now caked onto them carefully. Prolonging the action, there came a slow hum in acknowledgement. ”Yao-san…it was true,” refraining from biting his lip openly; the elder nation simply sunk his canine into the flesh of his cheek out of frustration. Even after his bickering over the islands, Kiku still had that completely tranquil aura about him. Being with the other for so long, he wasn’t certain if he still could tell the hidden meaning of Japan’s words from underneath those phrases. “I did not expect to see you here… even though I had heard of the Chinese sending us aid.” Scoffing weakly, Yao inhaled in a manner that made him seem as if he was puffing out his diaphram and chest. He didn’t do this for Kiku—he did it for the people, didn’t he? It wasn’t about how he still ached, or how his country still viewed the island nation. China was willing to look past that, especially when it was his duty as the second world power to take charge in natural disasters. ”Of course it is true,” came the cautious response.

He couldn’t step on Kiku’s toes, whether the other nation took offense to him coming was still yet to be seen. What am I even talking about, of course I did it for you. Shifting uncomfortably under Kiku’s normally apathetic gaze, the Chinese began to walk towards him. Crossing his arms over his chest, with his eyes looking over the full frontal view of Kiku’s form. As horrible as the Japanese man could have been, it seemed that he was mistaken in how wounded Kiku could have been. Then again, the other nation was quite silent, even when he was in pain. Yao would have to get creative if he wanted to know just how to take care of the Japanese; subtle was the best way for him to approach. Yet the only thing he really desired to do was to lock Kiku in his arms, and hold him there—right where he belonged. If only politics were so simple.

If only we could go back in time, Kiku--. His hands reached out carefully, taking ahold of Kiku’s shoulders on both sides. Thumbs trailing up the hard cartilage that made the frame of his collarbone. Adding pressure, just to make completely certain that Kiku was stable enough to be walking about. How very like him to neglect himself for the sake of his people; he could have sworn that this was the exact reason he managed to rise, despite the struggles he’d suffered from the West. ”When I heard, well—you knew that someone would come, right?” He would have bet that Kiku might have favored America’s help over his own, perhaps offering so quickly was his own fault. He didn’t make the decision to aid Kiku—but he wanted to. He needed to, even if his boss denied that grace of whatever they once had between them. ”How could anyone see this and not want to help you, Kiku? You have the world on their toes, and yet you never ask for help. Are you even healthy? Can you truly handle this on your own?” Japan had been hesitant, as always, when it came to who gave aid—it frustrated Yao in more ways then one. Certainly, Kiku didn’t have much of a choice in this matter either, but the man could have saved him the mess of worrying like some mother.

”You shouldn’t be out here, Kiku.” Yao attempted to make his voice as stern as it would go, knowing very well that the younger nation would try to deny how traumatic the situation was. ”What if you end up—no, I can’t—even think about that right now.” His sentence trailed off towards the end, having been more geared towards himself. No, he couldn’t imagine Kiku passing out—or having some sort of seizure halfway through the search and rescue effort. It would have been wise to hold the Asian nation where he could gain proper medical attention; though he doubted anyone besides himself would understand what Kiku was going through. It has been such a long time since I’ve gotten the chance to take care of you. Still, you shouldn’t be on the field like this. You’ll do more harm then help, didi.

Gazing at Kiku, Yao suddenly felt helpless—no matter what he did; Japan might simply have to make these decisions on his own. ”I’m worried for you, didi.” Yao whispered, the utterance of calling Kiku his ‘little brother’ evading what little tension still festered between them. He genuinely cared, genuinely desired to give what he could—if only for this moment in time. ”I’m here for you, please do not push yourself anymore.”

[/font]

[nihongo]

Hirata and Takeda clapped him on the shoulder as they moved to the far right of the cluster of tents towards the boat and truck. He acknowledged them, quickly telling them he would join them soon. His mind was still whirling with the sight of his older sibling, something inside of him clenching painfully. Kiku couldn’t help being slightly thankful that Yao turned away, giving him time to compose himself. Precious seconds that he needed in order to control the childish need to run to Yao and cry, wanting the man to soothe his pain like he had centuries ago.

When Yao turned back, Kiku was composed, or as composed as one could possibly be amidst all the wreckage they stood in. His dark eyes watched the other, lit with curiosity at his… personal involvement. Yao’s cautious response caused the corners of his lips to twitch slightly, but he held back the urge to smile bitterly. Take caution around him. Of course, Kiku thought.

“Still, I did not expect to see you here,” Kiku said as he watched Yao cross his arms and walk towards him.

But still, the sight of the other Asian was a sort of relief to him. He was not alone; he didn’t have to stoically hold back the pain a nation felt when having to excavate their people’s dead remains after a disaster. He would, but he was certain that Yao, of all nations, would be able to see through him. Never had Kiku been so glad for that.

He jerked slightly at feeling Yao’s hands on his shoulders, knowing that it had been a long time since they had even touched, much less so casually. His expression crumbled a little as Yao’s thumbs added pressure against the bone, taking all he had to keep from buckling under that touch and ancient, knowing, stare.

”When I heard, well—you knew that someone would come, right?”

“I expected aid, I would not have refused it,” Kiku said, his voice barely strained against the sudden discomfort placed up on his body, “but I did not expect… you yourself here.” He was careful not to mention either of their statuses as nations. Even in the middle of his greatest natural disaster, Kiku was careful about such things.

”How could anyone see this and not want to help you, Kiku? You have the world on their toes, and yet you never ask for help. Are you even healthy? Can you truly handle this on your own?” His mask slipped for a second, looking up into the other’s deep amber eyes before his own eyes looked down and his head followed as a bow towards the Chinese man. “And I am not so ungrateful that I cannot appreciate a helping hand when it is offered. Domo Arigato*, Wang Yao.”

Kiku’s lips pulled into a small smile once he looked up back at Yao and continued to reassure the man. It struck him as slightly funny that he was the one that had to be reassuring, “I am well enough. It is… not so bad that I cannot move and be helpful to the people.”

”You shouldn’t be out here, Kiku.” Kiku was truly thankful for the concern that Yao was showing. He placed a gentle hand on Yao’s wrist. “I probably shouldn’t,” he agreed, knowing that it might be true,“but I cannot do any good simply watching from Tokyo.” He tried to reassure the other nation; he was not going to collapse, from exhaustion or any other misfortune that decided to visit him. ”I’m worried for you, didi.” Kiku’s eyes widened at the title, little brother. It had been a long time since Yao had called him that. “Thank you. I cannot stop, but… nothing would make me happier then to have your help. Whatever you are willing to give.”

Hirata and Takeda soon yelled out to him, “We have the boat latched to the truck. Let’s hurry back.”

Kiku looked over to them and waved to show he heard them. He moved to retrieve his dropped pack and remembered it was half empty. He looked at Yao, a sense of urgency now flooding his form.

“Will you be here Yao-san? Or is your team moving soon?” He would have to return soon. Kiku will have to fill the pack with extra water and healing supplies before he would head back to the area with the other two of his own team. He cast a quick eye about the Red Cross tents, looking for more men with the similar red flag with the small gold stars.

“Yao-san, where is your team?” He asked when he was unable to find any.

---

*I was going to use hiranaga, but Christ it’s more difficult then Chinese characters, so I decided not to embarrass myself. This is the formal way of saying ‘Thank you’ in Japanese(?).

[china]

There was so much he had wanted to say, such things he was normally forbidden to ever speak to his eldest brother ever again. Yes, he was worried; more then he should have been for the nation that sought against him in favor of the West. Something within burned brightly, stinging his heart where it was weak, the part that remembered Kiku’s past where his people could not fathom the two nations ever getting along. His breath caught, lingering in the back of his throat before releasing in what seemed to be a very prolonged exhale. His hands had released the Japanese male, but the hand that lingered above his wrist made the muscles flinch. His body still had not forgotten the pain Kiku once exerted on him; the power of his Empire, trying to make him surrender everything that was his to him. Even if that meant surrendering himself, that poison still lingered in the back of his mind; like bile rising in his throat. When Kiku finally did touch his wrist, grasping it, Yao’s hand almost contorted. Clenching just slightly, before his eyes darted up to where his sibling’s were. Everything about the two of them tasted bitter, to the point the tongue would numb over and feel nothing but that distinct, tart flavor.

“I expected aid, I would not have refused it,” he heard Kiku say. Of course he wouldn’t, even if Japan held pride in being one of the few that could take care of himself—despite the odds against him. “but I did not expect… you yourself here.” Yao almost chuckled at that, his eyes dropping down as he shifted his hand in Kiku’s grasp. Removing it quickly, as the memories it brought were not the best. His touch still haunted his dreams, the words; not said in Kiku’s current tone. Disgusting—he had been so weak back then. Now, it seemed more then appropriate for him to take the lead, to try and pull Kiku out of the fray. No matter what the other said, the other nation could feel corruption bubbling somewhere on the land. Prior to leaving the mainland, Yao had heard rumors of the exploding nuclear power plants. While most were contained still, the tremors left little to imagination of what would happen if such actions continued. He had to get Kiku somewhere safe, no one on their ‘teams’ would understand what was happening to him. No medical expert would be able to help his younger sibling like he could. If only Kiku would understand that, if only he ever listened to him. ”Is it so hard to believe,” Yao responded softly. ”These types of catastrophes don’t simply happen every day. If they did, the world would be much darker then it is today.”

He tried to be the voice of reason, tried to sound wise—but the truth of it all was that he didn’t know what to say. Rushing to Japan’s side had been compelling when he was in China, and on the plane; now that he was here, everything felt muddled. “And I am not so ungrateful that I cannot appreciate a helping hand when it is offered. Domo Arigato*, Wang Yao.” His stomach twisted into knots, lips twitching in the desire to frown. His name, he should have been happy that Kiku was willing to say it to him. It almost felt like the younger was making amends, subtle, as always. Speaking of the title that he’d carried over the part of him that once felt so human when Kiku was ‘born’ to East Asia. The first of many, and the one that made China feel what he’d been so sure their kind lacked. Gazing up, the amber eyes met the dark charcoal; he didn’t have the unnatural restraint Japan did, and he doubted he ever would. The look of sorrow etched onto his face was mixed with melancholy, it did seem that in the midst of tragedy that the two estranged Asian nations could find peace. Painful peace, but peace nonetheless. ”Honda Kiku, どいたしまして aru.” He uttered back, under his breath. No one needed to know that he could speak fluently, or that he was of Chinese origin.

Then again, there might as well have been a target painted onto his back. The gazes he got, the scowls—the glances of utter surprise; Kiku’s people knew any other Asian nationality by simply observing them. It was something that Kiku was quite good at himself, not that he enjoyed the mixed reviews he was getting from the rescue crews. He was Chinese, and Kiku was Japanese—but he would see it through that neither label would be tarnished when there was far more at stake then how much they were supposed to distrust one another. “I am well enough. It is… not so bad that I cannot move and be helpful to the people.” Scowling softly, the ancient nation shook his head in disbelief. ” Nǐ huì chéngwéi wǒ de sǐwáng,” he hissed under his breath. Always so selfless, always—always doing what he thought was best; even when it clearly wasn’t. ”Kiku--.” He stressed, only to be cut off by the other’s comment that it probably was not be best idea to be in the field.

Of course it is not! What if you collapse, what if being out here speeds up the process? His weight shifted from one foot to the other, the looks between them becoming more hardened as Yao attempted to make his case solid. He would drag Kiku out of Sendai if he had to, at least Tokyo had some sort of stability. Electricity was scarce, and the people were frightened—but it was quite the safe haven compared to the turmoil of the impact site. ”Kiku,” Yao began slowly, as if knowing the East Asian would be frustrated immensely at his suggestion. ”I think we should take you back to Tokyo. You need to be somewhere safe, especially if something else happens to the land we are not prepared for.” He knew what was best, he always knew what was best. Kiku wasn’t his little one anymore, but his words should have meant something. Even if they were—or weren’t as close as they could have been. This might be the chance Wang Yao had at setting things right, and that was worth everything to him.


“Will you be here Yao-san? Or is your team moving soon?” Kiku’s voice snapped Yao out of his trance, almost having missed the way his sibling praised him for offering aid. “Yao-san, where is your team?” Yao tried to smile, but it came out weak and brittle. ”I left them in order to come after you. We heard your broadcast, and I told them I would go ahead. They will most likely stay on the outskirts, moving inwards like I did might cause friction we don’t need between us.” He of course, spoke of how he didn’t doubt that Japanese and Chinese citizens would be quite ready to aid one another without tangling up their emotions. Pessimistic as it might be, he didn’t put it past the close-mindedness of some Japanese to refuse the help of Chinese Red Cross Rescue teams. ”I’m sorry, Kiku.” Yao moved to grasp at his sibling’s shoulders, attempting to pull him back from his pack. Elbow lightly placed between the discs of his spinal column, pressure exerting on the soft cartilage in hopes that one blow to it would pass him out. Yet he didn’t strike, at least—not yet. Yao waited, and let his hand rest there softly; showing that he truly did not want to do Kiku any harm.

”You know and I know that if you want to help your people, it will not be on the field. Please, reconsider. Come with me back to Tokyo, no one even knows that ‘Wang Yao’ is here.”

[/font]


NOTES:
- Four Nuclear Reactors have been disrupted, and one has been confirmed for an actual radiation leak.
-China has offered 42 million dollars in donation to Japan, and that number is rising.
-China has also sent supplies, but they have not sent manpower in fear of ‘causing trouble’ with Japanese locals/government.
-* For those of you that don't know, this action is kind of like the "sleeper's hold" where you grasp someone around the neck to cut off their air supply and pass them out. This is called the "sleeper's pierce" where you actually hit the spine right below the neck to pass someone out. The force it exerts on the spine will send a shock that makes them momentarily black out. It's considered actually more 'kind' since it doesn't cause trauma to the brain or suffocation to produce.

Phrases
* Doitashimashite = You’re welcome (extremely polite)
* Nǐ huì chéngwéi wǒ de sǐwáng = You will be the death of me

[nihongo]

He saw the look that crossed Yao’s once his hand touched Yao’s. His eyes widened and he froze in place. A cold icy grip took hold of his heart and squeezed as he remembered the last time the last time he’d touched Yao.

(Burning, burning. Screams of terrified civilians, gunshots ringing. China under him, the only silent thing in a city screaming—)

He looked away, grateful that his touch was quickly removed. Grateful that he—the nauseous feeling remained and he was unable to look Yao in the in the eyes anymore. When he forced himself to look back at him, he kept his gaze solely on his lips, and the drab green uniform, eyes flickering towards the red patch with the golden stars on the top left corner. Finally, they settled on the white arm band below the flag, on the bold red cross of humanitarian aid.

“Is it so hard to believe,” Yao responded softly. ”These types of catastrophes don’t simply happen every day. If they did, the world would be much darker then it is today.” It wasn’t. “No. I just… was hesitant to hope.” He could always feel the tremors and danger that came from the Ring of Fire. He doubted Yao had ever felt that inescapable brushing of the earth. But he kept quiet, unable to talk back now—wishing he hadn’t come to get the damned boat.

“Nǐ huì chéngwéi wǒ de sǐwáng.” Kiku held back the urge to laugh bitterly. Not the first time those words were said towards him. It seemed every time the words may have been the same, but the tone and situation were different. His smile perhaps reflected his thoughts. In this more informal age, where there was not as much reason to be as cautious and guarded as the decades before, he seemed to be growing more liberal with his emotions and with how often he was growing to show them. At this point, Kiku was still unsure of how he felt of that…

”I think we should take you back to Tokyo. You need to be somewhere safe, especially if something else happens to the land we are not prepared for.” Kiku’s eyes narrowed slightly, ignoring the suggestion. He was not leaving. He… could not listen to Yao. His people were the most important thing to him. “I can’t. You know I can’t,” He whispered as he picked up the half empty pack, holding onto it tightly. “I’m grateful for your help and advice, even if I—I’m too stubborn to take good advice.”

Kiku’s eyebrows furrowed as he continued to listen to him and his lips pressed into a thin line. ”I left them in order to come after you. We heard your broadcast, and I told them I would go ahead. They will most likely stay on the outskirts, moving inwards like I did might cause friction we don’t need between us.”

“Yao-san, you couldn’t be sure you’d run into me. You could have gotten lost, injured, attacked, something,” Kiku said, voice rising slightly as his own worry seeped into his voice. He couldn’t go back worrying about his people, possible collapses, his team, and Yao. It would be too much! As he worried internally, he didn’t notice Yao moving behind him.

It was when he felt the light touch of Yao’s elbow to his back that he was jolted out of his quickly spiraling thoughts and he frowned. He missed the apology that came from Yao’s lips, his mind suddenly alert as he recognized the hold and what Yao was planning to do. His body stiffened instinctually and he looked over his shoulder to Yao. No strike came immediately, so it was a warning.

”You know and I know that if you want to help your people, it will not be on the field. Please, reconsider. Come with me back to Tokyo, no one even knows that ‘Wang Yao’ is here.”

Kiku let out a shuddering breath, carefully picking out his words. Yao was not the bluffing type. He would use the strike and drag him to Tokyo on foot if needed. Kiku knew this.

( “Do you have a name, little one?”— “I don’t have one to give. I’m sorry.”)

“I’m sorry. I refuse. I will not leave here, and,” he was careful to stress the next few words, “even if you were to take me back to Tokyo, I will come back. Please don’t think I can’t slip out from under your care.”

He closed his dark eyes, still feeling that nauseous feeling settled deep in his stomach and waited for the jab to his back, “If… you are so insistent on keeping an eye on me, then… come with me. We came to retrieve a boat and will be heading back soon.”

---

Can't think of any notes right now. Sory it's so short, I've been distracted by... other... Kiku-related stuff...

The violet text are 'flashbacks' of sorts.

[china]

There were many things Yao regretted; one of them being how strained his relationship was with Kiku—even though many years had passed from their warring days. Many scars littered their flesh, old—but also fresh; lingering as reminders as to how cruel they had been towards one another despite the times that changed with seasons, some things did not follow the same pattern. When Kiku froze up, he assumed that it was from their flesh actually touching. He’d not been so deprived of physical contact that one simple tap on his wrist caused his entire frame to tense; memories did that favor, reminding him of the last time they had met. It was not intimately. That was all he needed to recall, the rest he buried under a mound of denial and forceful elimination. What had been done was unspeakable, and perhaps that too was why both China and Japan neglected to revisit those dark corners of their pasts. Being as old as they were, there was much to be forgotten—less to be remembered. “No. I just… was hesitant to hope.” Laughing gently, Yao shook his head and sighed openly.

Yao couldn’t say he was surprised to find that Kiku was denying his wisdom. Surely, it made too much sense to the younger Asian to actually pick up some advice; Yao had his fair share of earthquakes as well. Earlier in the year, he had suffered one of at least a 7.0 magnitude, but luckily it struck one of his less populated areas. It made his life uncomfortable for a few months, but not intolerable. Not what Kiku was being forced to live with. “I can’t. You know I can’t,” he could have screeched in frustration at that, such arrogance. “I’m grateful for your help and advice, even if I—I’m too stubborn to take good advice.” And yet, the traits he respected within Kiku shown. Japan understood that what Yao was telling him was in proper restraints; he would have not offered, or said such things out of panic. Although, he was panicking, that was not up for debate—his mind was clairvoyant, however. He understood that for the best outcome in Japan’s favor, Kiku had to be taken care of. This was his body, after all, that they were taking care of. It didn’t matter if he was on the field, things would only get worse; with what limited resources he had, it could spell disaster for the both of them.

”Then you will have to start listening, Kiku. I am not allowing this to carry on any further. I know that your decision is something I cannot change, but you know equally well that my own is for the greater good.” Americans, Chinese, it didn’t matter what nationality was coming to aid Japan; he would get the support he needed to save as many lives as possible. That was all that should have mattered. Kiku couldn’t do anything in his state, he was fragile—even if the Japanese didn’t want to admit that. Which he bet Kiku’s pride wouldn’t allow, no matter what travesty befell Japan, Yao honestly could not see the Asian admitting his weakness. As a nation, Yao could begin to feel the taint being leaked into the soil near and far; everything muddled, and Kiku would forfeit his wellbeing for that of his people. Yao would do the same, but he had no one in which to hold him back. China was alone, if one wanted to admit such a thing. Being as strong as he was, or that which he had become; came with the price of independence. Granted, there were other factors that were present—but Japan had allies. Strong allies. Japan had family as well. Strong family. No matter who chose to lift the weight, Kiku would be taken care of—he would see it done.

“Yao-san, you couldn’t be sure you’d run into me. You could have gotten lost, injured, attacked, something,” Yao almost laughed at the irony of it. Here they were, reunited after what felt like a stressful, furious gathered years. Events that had made them enemies, opened old wounds—how much they had hurt one another involuntarily, and here Kiku was worried about his safety while Japan teetered on the edge. ”It would take more then an earthquake, tsunami, flood, and crowd to keep me from you.” It was true, though. He didn’t know that he would run into Kiku so early, it was pure luck that he’d gotten there, and reunited with his younger brother as soon as he did. It wasn’t instantaneous, but enough time had passed to make Yao’s nerves go completely haywire; any longer and he was worried that the stress would eat him alive.

The motion he took to circle around Kiku went unnoticed. For which he was grateful, the last thing he wanted to do was create a scene between Japanese man and himself. Any sort of brawl would have looked horrendous for both of them. He couldn’t afford angering anyone besides Kiku, and even that would have killed him internally. Yao was there to help, but he couldn’t do so if his didi didn't allow it. Kiku should have known that doing this was placing not only himself in danger, but the humans. No doctor could give Kiku the medical attention he needed, and that could take away from resources that another human could use to save lives. ”I know how it feels, didi, to want to suffer with your people. Doing this won’t bring you the outcome you seek,” Yao whispered softly from behind him. No matter what excuses the other made, the Chinese man’s mind was made up. He would take Kiku to Tokyo, and force him to stay there in the power outage; hidden from the view of many citizens that wouldn’t understand their role as Japan and China. Overlooking Wang Yao and Honda Kiku was far easier when alone, over plunged into utter pandemonium.

“I’m sorry. I refuse. I will not leave here, and,” Yao felt his breath rising to retaliate. , “even if you were to take me back to Tokyo, I will come back. Please don’t think I can’t slip out from under your care.” Utterly stubborn, foolishly applied courage. ”And I refuse your actions, which dishonor me and the sacrifices your people have given up to now.” Above all else, Yao could speak Kiku’s language. It was one of his own, prideful—something that needed to be taken away before Kiku did more harm to himself them good. ”You are not as them, you cannot offer this, as they do. You are suffering, Kiku, and things will only get worse from here. Listen to me, didi.” He used the abbrivation in Chinese for ‘little brother,’ something he had not done in so many years. “If… you are so insistent on keeping an eye on me, then… come with me. We came to retrieve a boat and will be heading back soon.” Shaking his head, Yao refused to move his elbow from the juncture that connected the lower half of Kiku’s neck to his upper spinal column. ”No, I refuse,” he whispered softly. Hating how this position made him feel—as if he was forcing violence upon Kiku in his time of need. ”Let this be the last thing you ever truly hear from your gege, but please hear it. That is all I ask. Little brother, do not do this—do not make me do this. You know that you cannot stay, and even if you believe you can; I know the limits far better then yourself. You can do the most good out of the way, and I will grant it to you. Honda Kiku’s place is not here, and my place is to make you accept that.” Despite the fact his younger sibling as being stubborn, he couldn’t bring himself to snap the other into unconsciousness.

Instead he turned Kiku around slowly to face him, bringing their eyes to finally meet fully. Close, face to face; dark amber meeting charcoal. ”I’m begging you, didi. I wouldn’t be here right now if I didn’t care, if I didn’t know that this is exactly what you would be doing—despite your better judgment. I can feel it, Kiku, this is not the end—but the beginning of what can only get worse.” His heart sunk, and the emotions flickered in his eyes. The depth was there, and his love for the younger nation began to show; Yao cared, he couldn’t watch such acts unfold under his influence. ”Didi, please. Please, let me do this. Forgive me for everything for just this moment, and understand that I—that I love you too much to allow such selflessness to continue.” Yao could never be certain that Kiku or Japan could—or would do the same for him. Right now, however, it didn’t matter.

[/blockquote]

[nihongo]

”Then you will have to start listening, Kiku. I am not allowing this to carry on any further. I know that your decision is something I cannot change, but you know equally well that my own is for the greater good.” Kiku was listening. He knew, even though the silent acknowledgment made his mouth sour and his stomach churn dangerously. In his mind he felt as if he were being forcefully kept from helping. But he knew it was untrue. Yao was not doing this out of any sort of malicious intent. He was not trying to hurt him by refusing him the thing he was set on doing. He cared.

Yao cared.

It was that thought that calmed his indignation at the insistence that he cease. It was a pause that his body took advantage of and quickly reminded him that he was still hurting. Aftershocks had hit his island with enough frequency that it was soon becoming hard to ignore. They amplified the ache that he felt, long gone and now but a ghost, on his right side. Each tremor that wracked his body threatened to shatter him and his eyes closed as he realized it.

The realization that his body was so hurt and damaged made him feel as if his heart had been grasped by a cold hand and squeezed. Kiku hated to be so helpless, helpless to nature and her unpredictable fury. He knew the world viewed him as the nation most prepared against earthquakes and tsunamis. So it was an excruciatingly bitter pill to swallow that no matter how much he invested in protection against it, it all was barely enough to keep it from wiping the entire area out.

His suffering was his and his peoples, but he was not alone. Yao was here, standing in front of him looking as dignified and regal as he always did; whether in war, in conferences, or in disaster areas. It was a trait he envied slightly and tried to emulate ever since his days from when he was not quite a nation. His other allies would no doubt arrive soon as well to help Kiku gain a solid footing on the situation and not have to worry about every single detail alone.

A strange smile tugged at his lips. He wasn’t alone. That wasn’t a thought that Kiku entertained regularly, but it made the knot in his stomach loosen slightly and he looked back up into Yao’s dark eyes. Eyes filled with worry and concern and other things Kiku was unsure of still. ”It would take more than an earthquake, tsunami, flood, and crowd to keep me from you.” Kiku’s hands tightened into fists. It was all he could do to stop himself from flinging himself at the Chinese man. His mind reeled with confusion as he tried to quell the spark of hope that dared to ignite. It was not the time or place, if there could ever be such a time and place for such things between them.

”I know how it feels, didi, to want to suffer with your people. Doing this won’t bring you the outcome you seek,” Yao whispered softly. Kiku’s tight fists loosened slightly, Yao was not going to let him loose himself within the rubble and disaster; something Kiku somewhat hoped to do.

Kiku took a shaky breath, ”Yao… please don’t.” Why did speaking with Yao always make him feel like acting up on impulses that he’d likely reject later? He hated how Yao was making sense. Hated how he seemed to pinpoint Kiku’s exact reasons and reminded him of how foolhardy they were. Kiku hated how he was unable to hate Yao for it.

”And I refuse your actions, which dishonor me and the sacrifices your people have given up to now.” Kiku looked up at him questioningly. Was there really any more he could possibly do to bring dishonor upon Yao? Some deep bitter part of him felt that there really was no way he could dig that hole to be any deeper. Kiku kept his silence, his thoughts locked up inside for later review. Weeks later he would stop and reflect on each and every word spoken and those that were left unsaid. Just as he did after each conversation with Yao he had. He should be worried with how he mentally agonized himself over every subtle nuance of Yao, every shift, the slightest gesture, but with Yao such things were everything. Kiku had learned that early in his life.

”You are not as them, you cannot offer this, as they do. You are suffering, Kiku, and things will only get worse from here. Listen to me, didi.” Didi… Kiku’s eyes widened slightly at the title that had been bestowed upon him centuries ago.

”I am stronger than them, they are the only reason I’m here ge—Yao,” He stopped himself, unsure as to if he should reopen such wounds. Luckily, the slight press of Yao’s elbow covered up his slip and sudden stop of his defense. He pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes, mind already forming plans for when he regained consciousness; there was no way to stop Yao after letting him get close enough to position himself there.

”Let this be the last thing you ever truly hear from your gege, but please hear it. That is all I ask. Little brother, do not do this—do not make me do this.” He didn’t have to. Kiku felt lightheaded. Why was Yao so insistent? Why? ”You know that you cannot stay, and even if you believe you can; I know the limits far better then yourself. You can do the most good out of the way, and I will grant it to you. Honda Kiku’s place is not here, and my place is to make you accept that.” China didn’t have to be there! Why? Kiku’s mind whirled, ”Gege…” The threatening elbow was removed and Kiku slowly gave into Yao’s nudges and turned to face him, looking up slightly to stare straight into his dark amber eyes.

With a shaky sigh he caught sight of others staring at them from the corner of his eyes. He frowned and gave Yao a quick shake of his head and looked around. ”Over there. We’re attracting attention gege.” He gestured a little ways away towards a two story house, the usage of the Chinese word for older brother slipped his notice. A stone gate covered most of the first floor, slightly taller than Yao and it would do well in covering them from prying eyes and ears. With a bitter laugh, Kiku wondered if his two companions had left him to return to the group.

A quick look before they ducked behind the wall showed him the truck and boat gone. Of course. They had to return to the main search group as quickly as possible. Now he was just arguing with Yao on principle. Like usual…

”I’m begging you, didi.” I wish you wouldn’t, Kiku thought. The words brought back the wave of nausea to his stomach that had barely receded, why hadn’t it disappeared? What else was going on? Kiku forced his eyes to stay on the water line that marked the near top of the wall, darkening the bottom with oil and brine. ”I wouldn’t be here right now if I didn’t care, if I didn’t know that this is exactly what you would be doing—despite your better judgment. I can feel it, Kiku, this is not the end—but the beginning of what can only get worse.” Kiku’s lips parted as his dark charcoal colored eyes turned to stare into the dark amber of Yao’s.

”Didi, please. Please, let me do this. Forgive me for everything for just this moment, and understand that I—that I love you too much to allow such selflessness to continue.” Kiku’s throat and mouth felt clogged and too dry. It felt as if he suddenly had cotton stuffed into his mouth, and when he spoke, it sounded like it at as well, ”Y-you… Y-Yao…” He stuttered through his words, unable to find exactly what he wanted to say now. Kiku’s eyes were wide as they looked at him and unconsciously brought his hands to rest lightly on Yao’s arms. It felt like too much, one little word was enough to send him into near incoherence.

”How can… how can you,” his voice fell into a near whisper, ”say you love me? Gege, you can’t.” Or at least he shouldn’t. There should be too much hurt and anger and pain between them, he thought. His eyes showed he wanted to repeat the same words as him that were caught in his throat. His face flushed slightly and his eyes fell from Yao’s face to his chest. His hand lifted off of Yao’s arms and he realized exactly why, he was afraid to touch him. The last time he’d touched Yao had been decades ago, and then it had only been to destroy the man that stood proudly before him now.

”I’m sorry. I shouldn’t say this, but I’ve loved you for as long as I’ve known what it was. I shouldn’t, I don’t have a right to, I’ve tried not to—but I do,” He whispered, half wanting Yao to not hear him. It was almost too much. Kiku felt overwhelmed and unguarded. Earthquakes at his heels, tsunami’s at his back, and Yao at his front. Everything at once and he had no idea which one to properly turn his attention to anymore.

---

I feel Kiku got a little toooooo emotional at the end, and I apologize. But, in my defense! He is very distraught by everything.

[china]

WARNING: There is a very much well-described, hot kissin' scene in hurr. Not your cup of tea~ then the back button is all yours, my friend!

With wide eyes, Yao awaited what he could only assume would be Kiku’s initial apathetic response to his platonic display of affection. He was grateful, mind you, that Kiku had the wisdom to maneuver them away from the crowds. Too many people were already busily attempting to do what they felt had to be done before more aftershocks piled up on their ongoing struggles. Right now, the both of them were simply shadows against a wall, speaking softly to one another. Words that had always been unsaid between them, such things that they overlooked simply because admitting them was too painful to bear alone. He missed Kiku, fully and deeply—as much as he did any other sibling; perhaps more then he let on. Japan had been the very first of his brothers to be ‘born,’ and as such the bond between the two elder nations felt so very personal. Perhaps he was too set in his ways to see just how much he had denied himself the truth, and with tragedy on Kiku’s doorstep; Yao’s feeling of being a nation was set on auto-pilot. All that mattered now, all that he needed to feel, was Kiku. I want your arms around me, I need to feel your breath and heart. I must know you are still alive, that you are still here. Even if you make us enemies, little one.

He could tell that what he had said struck something within Kiku, as the Asian was normally so very tense and completely blocked off from any emotion reaction. Yao’s hand slowly lifted, pulling away from the long sleeve to graze his hand over the curve of Kiku’s framed face. It was older now, then what he remembered—or perhaps it was the stress he was feeling during this natural disaster that made those eyes so worn. He frowned, although it wasn’t in distaste for Kiku; he wasn’t angry or frustrated with him. The look that was etched on Yao’s face was one of pity, and sorrow. A longing to make this, if only this, right between the both of them. He was so tired of loathing his brother, of blaming him for things that happened decades ago. For putting that ugly, mangled scar on his back that to this day refused to heal. His younger brother had done much to him, but to be caught up on the past would be his downfall. He would approach the future, even if it took this disaster to link old bonds back together. To be there for Kiku would mean more, silently, then their verbal bickering over political scandals and old wounds that stemmed from Imperial Japan.

”Yao… please don’t.” His heart felt heavy, reminding him of its presence; tugging and trying to gain recognition so Yao could admit to himself that he did love him. Closing his eyes, the Asian pressed the back of his hand to the clammy cheek of the island nation. Whispering something in ancient Chinese, far too muddled for the other to understand. Although it was Kiku’s very first language before Japanese was created, he very much doubted that his little one recalled what they used to speak in. When the world was much more isolated, and East Asia was an Empire of its own caliber. His knuckles lightly grazed over the outward curve, lifting up Kiku’s jawline as his fingers sprawled outwards. Touching, feeling, recognizing the flesh as one of his own; another hand lifted to cradle the opposite side of the old nation’s face. ”I cannot, I am sorry.” Came the weak response, as Yao’s head dipped forward and pressed his temple against Kiku’s. ”There is no other way to make you see, I know that now. I’m done playing your game, for now. Don’t hide from me behind your masking, 私の子供.” Narrowing his dark amber eyes, Yao’s gaze continued to penetrate lovingly into those darker charcoal ones before him. Silently reminding Kiku that he was there for him, even if China chose not to be in the coming months; but this episode of healing was just the beginning. If China could feel sympathy, it was the start of their relationship finally melding into what it should have been.

”I am stronger than them, they are the only reason I’m here ge—Yao,” Sighing gently, the elder cocked his head to a different angle. Still keeping their soft temples together, ignoring the light feeling growing deep within the dark hole inside of his heart. Family, love, and protection—it was all coming back to him now. Even if Kiku didn’t want it, there was something rising from the ashes of that bridge they both burned down so long ago. Pushing away the charred agony, pain, and mistrust; blooming and rising as surely as the sun did within the East. ”I know you are strong,” Yao responded delicately, words falling from his lips like a soft rain over Kiku’s ears. ”You are so strong, Kiku, but let me take care of you now. Everything will be alright, even if you are not here with them. They are just as strong as their nation, where it matters. Within.” Touching over Kiku’s heart, he could feel Tokyo straining deep inside the ribcage. It wounded him still, that the younger was in so much pain without giving himself the time to even notice how injured he truly was. Pressing his fingertips firmly into the clothing that separated him from Kiku’s straining heart; the bustle of Tokyo now so quiet compared to the pounding of Beijing.

When he had uttered his confession, which honestly meant so little to him in comparison to getting Kiku to safety—he had not expected the Japanese man’s entire mentality to shatter. ”Y-you… Y-Yao…” He had not heard Kiku stutter, or even doubt himself—make that face since his childhood. Thousands upon thousands of years ago, and now of all times he felt the other Asian breaking his walls down before his very eyes. Shocked, the ancient nation pulled back from where he rested his head with Kiku’s pressed firmly against him. ”Kiku?” An utterance, truly nothing more then simple shock venting from what he was observing. It didn't have a proper answer, but he noticed Kiku’s eyes were now directly on him; refusing to budge as the denial pushed its way through both of them. ”How can… how can you,” he couldn’t even recall ever hearing Kiku’s voice so tender. So fragile, as if one motion or touch would break those words in half. ”say you love me? Gege, you can’t.” Yao’s eyes narrowed, tensed for one moment. Why—why can’t I?

[/i] He thought, almost saying so before he was cut off by the sudden loss of Kiku’s gaze. It dropped down to his chest, which was—so unlike him.

”I’m sorry. I shouldn’t say this, but I’ve loved you for as long as I’ve known what it was. I shouldn’t, I don’t have a right to, I’ve tried not to—but I do,” his breath caught in his throat; Yao’s eyes literally flew open in astonishment. Now, he understood—what he has said was not taken platonically, or if it was—it was deeper then that. Far more intangible then what he thought that his adoration for his siblings could go. Yet, it didn’t disgust him, nor did it plague him with guilt. He didn't feel shame for loving Kiku, despite what had happened in the past—despite how Westernized he was now. Times changed people, and he was living proof that much could morph one into what they detested in order to succeed. His eyes firmly closed, listening to the silence around them as the wind whipped through the abandoned building. It caressed his ears, and the sound of water moving, lapping up against their legs in slow succession. Coaxing their bodies together, which Yao took to quickly. His arms flew around Kiku’s shoulders, pulling the younger nation into his body and chest.

It was a flurry of motion from that point. He needed touch, promises, everything and anything that would make this right. His fingers tied their way into Kiku’s clothing, grasping onto the soft cotton as his heart rate picked up a wild pace. Pressed up against Kiku’s, and pulsating to the same internal pattern; a mirror into what they denied of themselves all of the time. His hands shifted from around the shoulders to caress the back of Kiku’s head, pulling him in without restraint as Yao’s head angled itself to the side. Pressing their lips together, he reveled in the feel of warm silk being melded against him. Digits slowly sifted through the dark threads of Kiku’s obsidian hair, thumbs rocking backwards and tracing the outline of the curved skull covered with the mellifluous cascade of short locks. His breath lightly ghosted over Kiku’s own lips, before the desperation kicked in; control was tossed to the side as Yao literally yanked Kiku closer. Refusing to let go of his lips, his head—nothing could pull the younger back unless he was pried away from.

Over and over, Yao met his lips. Opening his own slowly, first with only one thin parting; then enough to fully lock their jaws together. He could taste his tongue, the herbal flavor of green tea and the scent of sakura blossoms. It was warm, but not too humid or hot; and an odd feeling of how well they fit together placed Yao into a state of pure tranquility. The sounds drowned out, the trauma of disaster left his mind—and replaced was every sense he could feel within and around Kiku’s kiss.

Hands slowly slid down from the arch of the younger nation’s head, and crossed gracefully in the form of an ‘x’ with both palms now at rest upon the small, but sturdy shoulder blades of the other Asian. Eyelids opening hesitantly, Yao’s lungs cried for air—despite the fact he didn’t wish to part from the comfort he’d found. Parting with one soft popping sound, his mouth still lingered over the curve of Kiku’s own kiss-swollen petals. ”Come with me to Tokyo, 小弟弟” It was almost silent, if not for the light breath that touched them both. Vocalizing it only loud enough for both to hear only if they strained to do so—despite how close they were.
[/font][/blockquote]



((私の子供 = My Child "Watashi no kodomo" in Japanese.
小弟弟 = Xiao didi , or My little brother--I think I've explained that enough forever. ;A;

I think that's it.
Dayum, I have no shame when it comes to affectionate scenes, don't I? No. No I don't. /sigh.

Hahaha, I love me some emotional!Kiku, Pochi. >D BRING IT.))

[nihongo]

”There is no other way to make you see, I know that now. I’m done playing your game, for now. Don’t hide from me behind your masking, 私の子供. ” Kiku sighed and was slightly surprised to find no feelings of bitterness at hearing such a term come from Yao’s lips. Decades ago he would have flinched away from his touch, slapped the hands that were slowly cradling his head away. But now…

He closed his eyes and leaned his head against Yao’s, sighing softly as his heart fluttered and a small smile graced his lips. His mind was still reeling with the sudden closeness of their bodies, his mind barely remembering a time when they had been this close and so calm about it. Well, perhaps not calm. There was a soreness to Kiku’s body that he hand not felt since the last major war he’d been in. It hurt. Perhaps it had been an adrenaline rush combined with a refusal to think about it, but he had not thought about it earlier. He was so concentrated on helping that he had ignored his body.

Like Yao had been so adamant about, he finally felt the horribly weariness and pain that came with natural disasters, and he knew that there was wisdom to Yao’s words and advice. That, he could never really argue. The other male had centuries of experience that Kiku could honestly say he lacked. It did not mean he didn’t want to fight to stay. But it was too late now.

His body had finally realized that he was in pain and it was not going to be so easily forgotten. The softness of Yao’s cheek against his, the warmth of a comforting body and the gentle way he spoke into his ear washed over him like soft soothing rain. His dark eyes closed and he sighed softly again, Kiku’s body slowly relaxing against Yao’s.

”You are so strong, Kiku, but let me take care of you now. Everything will be alright, even if you are not here with them. They are just as strong as their nation, where it matters. Within. ” Kiku’s breath caught in his throat as he felt Yao touch his chest. His heart hammered beneath the skin and muscle at the barely there touch. Dimly, he wondered if Yao could feel it below the thick padding of his SDF uniform. “Yao-san… you…”

He wanted to just let go and fall into Yao’s arms, let the other man just take care of him completely. Kiku wanted to, the part of him that was Japan clung to pride and guilt refused to. He was glad his eyes were closed, they were suddenly stinging and he took a shaky breath.

It soon was pointless as his eyes widened when Yao’s arms wrapped around him and pressed his body against the older man’s. Yao pulled him into an almost crushing hug. Stunned, Kiku was unable to properly respond or pull away. G—Gege… w-what? His mind whirled and tried to catch up with reality.

Yao’s arms were around him, warm and comforting. Kiku’s breath hitched as his hands slowly rose to rest on Yao’s arms. Lips parted he almost asked why. The hands in his hair caused the words to die in his throat, the only sounds to come from it were soft and startled. Yao’s lips were against his, pressing warmly and carefully against Kiku’s own. A strangled, almost lost little sound came from his parted lips as Yao’s hands tangled in his hair, fingers softly massaging his scalp and beginning to coax him to responding.

Yao was… Yao was kissing him. There was no mistaking the way their lips pressed together. Yao-san is kissing me.[/i] His mind said to him, his thought process finally slamming to a halt in the present as it caught up. Before he could truly register what he was doing he laid his hands on Yao’s shoulders, hands caressing the firm muscle under the drab uniform as his head tilted up to meet him in the kiss.

He moved gladly closer when Yao pulled him along, dark and surprised eyes sliding shut. The water sloshing around their feet was ignored; the soreness of his body was all but forgotten by that mere action. If Kiku truly believed in Gods still he would be asking those higher powers if this was real.

Kiku’s grip tightened on Yao’s shoulders, pushing as he was pulled until Yao’s back hit the barely standing wall and he pressed himself as close as possible to him. His hands slowly dropped from his shoulders to his sides, a small whimper escaping him, ”Yao…”

There had never been this much intimacy between then, never had a kiss of theirs been so soft, slow and slowly shifting towards something else, something more. He kissed him back, let himself be drawn into the wet heat of Yao’s mouth, tasting faint teas and sweets and fighting with the deep hole in his chest that ached with remembrance. Kiku forgot where they were standing in the middle of a devastated town, humanitarian aid was only a few meters away from them, his hurting body; none of it mattered in those moments when he kissed Yao back with equal enthusiasm. His hands had come to a rest on Yao’s waist, wrapping around it in a tight embrace.

”Come with me to Tokyo, 小弟弟” Grudgingly he pulled back slightly, lungs burning for air despite his want to simply continue. Panting, face flushed and eyes slightly dazed he looked up at the older nation. Licking his slightly puffed lips he took a few moments to try and compose himself, ”Not… not Tokyo. There are too many people there.” His eyes closed and he leaned his head down, resting his forehead against Yao’s firm chest. Partly to think, partly to hide the flush he could feel on his face from Yao. They could… Kiku frowned. There was another place they could go…

”Closest here would be Yamagata, Fukushima or Niigata, ” Kiku whispered, his breath still haven’t fully returned, ”Niigata would… be best. I still have the estate there. ” He bit his lip as he revealed that piece of information. That estate had been the first gift of Yao’s. A place to live in after taking Kiku from the warm bamboo grove in which he’d been found. He’d kept that estate since then, spending his own money to maintain it, rebuild it after the bombings, and modernize it. That place had become his haven, his escape from the world that he had almost destroyed during his Imperial era.

He couldn’t recall if he’d ever mentioned it to Yao since breaking away from him, ”N-normally it’s a about a day’s ride from here, but… no doubt Daijin-sama would send an helicopter to pick us up should I find a way to call. ” He would do as Yao asked, but Kiku already felt the burden that would be placed on Tokyo, and had no wish to add to it.

[china]

A child he found in the bamboo, over two thousand years ago—he raised him to be sturdy and strong. Coddled him from what he could, and taught the little one the basics of writing, speech, and the arts of the mainland. For one thousand years, they flourished together. For hundreds, they had been only each other’s company; and during that time Yao had been so blinded by love to not notice the subtle changes within his younger brother. Only when it was too late, only when he had lost Kiku had everything become clear. His heart broke, with the reality as well as bitterness that his younger sibling no longer wanted to be a part of Asia—a part of him. He remembered the good, along with the bad; within the kiss they melded together into a state of tranquility. No matter what had happened, no matter what did happen to them; everything would be alright. Wounds healed, times changed, and people did as well—so as Yao would say, and repeated over and over. After all, if he did not believe it, then there really was nothing in his world to hope for. Every day he would awaken to would have been pointless, if not the cycle continued with the elder nation riding shotgun as he did through each millennia.

When they parted for breath, he smiled gently at the tender sound of Kiku’s voice. Nothing the younger Asian nation said made any sense, just fragments of speech along with the utterance of confusion. Yao shook his head, placing one finger to the younger’s lips. Hoping that it would stifle the tender whispers leaking out after their kiss completed with the moist sound of parting. His didi’s lower lip looked so beautiful, a lovely dusky shade of pink now swollen with the pressure they’d both placed on each other; desperately meshing their bodies as close as they could without causing damage. His fingers slid out of the raven hair, and Yao narrowed his eyes cautiously. Lifting Kiku’s head by his chin with both thumbs pressing gently to that well-kissed lower petal. He’d always adored the dark obsidian of his brother’s eyes, reminding him of the ocean when there was no moon in the sky. Simple, smooth, bioluminescent darkness; warm and cold, unsure and sturdy—the perfect pallet of mixture as well as total blankness. Everything Kiku wore was nothing short of a god’s painted mask; beautiful, almost inhumanly so.

”Oh, didi, you are so beautiful. Even after so many years, and so many wars—so much has happened between us, but you still are so gorgeous. My little one, I’m so proud of you.” He doubted that this was needed, but how many years had this gone unsaid between them? Kiku might have been old, one of the oldest nations besides himself that still lived. Yet the nation was still young compared to him, still in need of that adoration—just reminded as to how special he was. How Yao loved him, how China still yearned for him; crying out in an empty forest for a child that was long-sense gone from his arms. Before him was a man, and while it was still difficult to grasp; the connection he felt that was once severed to the other Asian nation began tightening. Grasping at his heart, making its presence known; that connection was still present between them—weak as it was, the tiniest emotion had survived the onslaught of violence between both parties. No matter how Yao attempted to drown it in anger, the piece of him that would always love Kiku clung to life—as if knowing this day would come.

And here it was.

And I’m utterly terrified.

Yao was frightened that one wrong touch, one wrong word would shatter the moment. That everything would collapse in the crumbling building as surely as their unstable relations; it could mean nothing—but it could also mean everything. This moment would help map out the future for both of them, as he prayed that his boss gave him enough permission to stay with Kiku throughout his recovery from the natural disaster. His arms looped around the younger’s waist, mirroring how Kiku was holding him as the head placed pressure on his upper chest. They were almost the same height, but Yao was more then happy enough to play the older, larger sibling—and press his chin against the scalp of his Land of the Rising Sun. Whispering softly, he cooed in snippets of Chinese, cradling the body and stroking his fingers longingly down the spinal column of the Japanese. Feeling the throbbing of the muscles, he frowned and tightened his brow in concern. Kiku would collapse soon, the pain would become too ripe and pungent for him to bare if this prolonged any further.

”Not… not Tokyo. There are too many people there.” Startled at the sudden sound, Yao hadn’t noticed that his hands had moved to cradle Kiku’s body. ”Closest here would be Yamagata, Fukushima or Niigata, ” that last city—why did it feel as if he’d heard of it somewhere before? It flashed something long since forgotten in the back of his memory—but with many other things from his past involving Kiku, it was repressed to the point of vanishing as soon as he recalled it. ”Niigata would… be best. I still have the estate there. ” That made sense, taking Kiku to his estate would be wise—since his boss knew of it and no attention would be raised on the owners ‘sudden illness.’ There, Kiku was nothing more then a face in the crowd to his people—and Yao would blend in as much as he could. Even with being Chinese, this was a time that the Japanese would look past his nationality for the greater good of the nation. In times of tragedy, tolerance was high enough to forget what transpired between both nations. Now, he wouldn’t have to worry about what any of Kiku’s children thought about him—nor how they wanted to disown their history in favor of Westernization.

He lifted Kiku into his arms effortlessly, hiding the cringe that came from stress placed on his back. At the moment, this was far more important. Holding the Asian nation close to his body, the Chinese leant down and pressed his lips against Kiku’s cheek; keeping the head of his younger towards his chest and hidden from the seeking eyes around them. ”I’ll always love you, Kiku.” He uttered against the flesh, nose tenderly resting on the delicate curve of the cheekbone. ”I’ll take care of you, always. Even if you hate me for it, even if you don’t believe you deserve it. I’ll forgive you for anything, and I will be here for you, for as long as the sun rises in the East.” Carrying Kiku like one would a wounded civilian, he ordered the helicopter that the younger promised; calling out in Japanese that the nation had been injured during the rescue mission and that the flight to Niigata would be needed as soon as possible. When the aircraft arrived, he continued to coddle Kiku with one arm laced around the back and upper shoulders. Threaded over the chest, hand pressed against Kiku’s heart to make certain it kept beating. The other looped over his legs, keeping each part steady as he got inside of the helicopter and secured himself.

The flight had not been long, although he refused to let Kiku go. Even when some of the other passengers on the flight offered to take him and administer some aid, Yao refused passionately. When they had hit the ground, the ancient nation managed to somehow completely disappear from their radar. Where Yao once sat was empty, and Kiku was gone with him—on nimble feet, the Asian took his course towards Kiku’s estate. Running simply on his memory, even if it was completely blank.

The bamboo grove,

the scent of the ocean, wafting up from the nearby shoreline.

It was so familiar, and still so far away from his grasp, he had been here before—he was sure of it. Then why was it scratched blank inside of his memory? This place felt important, and he—wouldn’t have been able to guess the location of Kiku’s isolated estate if he’d not known of it. For now, though, it was unimportant—what was on his mind was to get Kiku into the home before he crashed.

Thanking the driver for his quick delivery, the man was paid and Kiku was once again pulled into his arms. Carrying the man smoothly up the traditional wooden stairs towards the door. It was modernized, but still fairly Japanese with the clay roof and polished wooden floors. Once it was ‘forced’ opened with one swift bang of Yao’s fist on the soft-spot of the door, the lock popped from the bolt and he was able to sneak inside. Slipping off his shoes, the elder nation helped pull Kiku’s off and lift him up the flight that lead into the kitchen-living room hallway. Quickly retreating into the back of the home towards the bedrooms, he slid Kiku onto the futon and glanced down. Yao looked ragged, as much of a mess as his younger sibling—and exhausted from carrying him from one point to another. Still, the ancient nation smiled; an odd shine of love in those eyes that wasn’t hidden beneath doubt. Relieved that he’d gotten so far, the man shifted around the room to light candles. Not being far from the Sendai impact, the electricity was effected, but luckily only in the lights; backup generators had kicked in for other appliances.

Japan was always ready, that much Yao was grateful for.

Blowing out the match he had found in one of Kiku’s bathroom drawers (which was connected to the bedroom) he glanced back at the younger nation. His eyes caught at the bamboo still growing around the window and sliding paper door leading outside. So familiar, I—can’t put my finger on it. Can this be—where I found him back then? It—can’t be.

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”Kiku, are you still awake?” Yao asked gently, trying not to disturb the hurt nation if he was taking this quiet moment to sleep.
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