Title: Visits 4
Character(s): China and Japan for this part
Warnings: Touchy subject, angsty, may be historically inaccurate.
Summary: After WW II, Japan is quietly recovering. It's time for China to visit.
Disclaimer: Axis Powers Hetalia belongs to Himaruya Hidekaz.
China silently entered the room and sat on a chair at Japan's bedside. He ignored the younger nation's attempt to greet him properly; he didn't even look at the other's face.
Three times Yao had come, stayed for a while, and gone without uttering a word. Three times Kiku had cried silently – and so, so discreetly no one would ever notice – after that.
"I hate him."
"I understand, my friend. But he is your little brother, da? I do not believe he would have raised his sword against you if it weren't for… external influences."
Ivan's words, so softly whispered in a warm night – one of many they have been secretly spending together - were still ringing and dancing in his mind.
"Wasn't it America who forced little Kiku to open his ports? He was content with having relations only with you until Alfred came…"
Russia was right, Yao thought. Centuries ago, Kiku had been his and only his. "I do not wish to trade with anybody else but China", how many times had Japan declared whenever a western nation tried to establish relations with him? But then, America came with his powerful ships and forced himself on Kiku.
"Wasn't it England who seduced him into thinking that Western ways were better than your ways? Wasn't it Germany who poisoned his mind with Nazi ideas?"
Yao briefly closed his eyes and sighed at the memory of Ivan's skin (white, oh, so sickening white but still welcoming, still hypnotizing, snake, he's a snake, cold and lethal but full of riches in his insides, if only Yao could snatch some).
"I am not saying you should forget what he did to you, my komrade… Japan is a little corrupt monster indeed… but you still love him, don't you? What really hurts is not the torture, not the rape, not the killing… what really hurts is that Kiku, of all people, was the one who did those to you."
Japan wished his once brother-tutor-enemy would go away. He could understand hatred and despise. He could understand if Yao never came for a visit, or if he came only to accuse, to mock, to humiliate him. This is what happens to losers. But that…
That freezing silence. That painful stillness. That… nothingness.
It made Kiku feel small and despicable and insignificant and horribly wrong. It made him want to run away and curl up in a dark corner and cry. His eyes were already watering. When had he become so weak?
No, no, no, not in front of him, not in front of Yao, too much shame, no…Kiku felt nauseating panic welling in his chest.
Yao finally turned to look straight at that pale, blank face he had come to hate more than anything else.
And then, he saw it.
Overwhelming guilt. Pain. Loneliness. Helplessness.
Now is the time, now that he is defeated and alone and weak, reach out to him, Ivan's mellifluous, sing-song voice was echoing in Yao's mind, swallow your hatred and hold him. Make him become one with you. Then, you will have your revenge.
Yao raised a shaky hand. Could he really do it? Could he even touch Japan when the agonizing screams and the stench of millions deaths were so fresh in his mind?
China promptly recoiled at the always-too-loud voice.
Alfred stepped in and sat on the bed, flinging one arm around Kiku's thin shoulders. He smiled brightly and for a brief moment his impeccably white teeth seemed a bit too bare, just like a hungry dog before his plate of food.
"Am I interrupting something?"