Kiku Comes to Visit (Japan, Peru)
Title: Kiku Comes to Visit
Warnings: Lack of sex
Summary: In a possible future, Peru has to make a decision.
Characters: Peru, Japan
Year: ~2050
Peru-- Maria Elena Soledad de la Cruz Jimenez-- had always had a special relationship with Japan. From the beginning of the 20th century, back when she still lived as a child in Spain's house, when his peasants came to work her fields, to the seventies when their descendants (her children now, but still with an affinity for him) started to return, lured by his financial success, scared of the turmoil in her government. She hadn't begrudged him that; she had always felt that she only had them on loan... and anyway, many chose to stay. When he took in her old boss, Fujimori, when he was on trial for crimes against humanity, she was indignant, but not truly angry.
Otherwise, they had mostly ignored each other; they lived on opposite sides of the globe, and had little in common. But as time went on, the war intensified; the former third world finally had the chance to pay back their former colonizers, now that these had finally come to peace with each other and disassembled their militaries, forgetting about the poorer countries until it was too late. It was fast becoming time to choose.
Kiku, as he told her to call him that day, came to see her personally. She hadn't even agreed to see Alfred (“America,” he liked to be called, no matter that she was as American as him). He'd never given her the time of day before the war; she had no interest in hearing what he had to say. But Japan-- Kiku-- was different. When he came to her door, she let him in.
“Nippon-koku,” she said, nodding in greeting, the air tense with unsaid words.
“Kiku.”
“Kiku,” she agreed, smiling quietly and bitterly. He had never asked her to call him that before the war, before he needed her help.
“Peru-- Maria.” She noted absently the strange, staccato way her said her name, the same as always. “How are you fairing?” They would speak in Japanese today, it seemed. Her Japanese was limited, but he was nervous, and the last thing she wanted was to fall back on English.
“As well as can be expected.” He nodded in acknowledgment. “And you?” She spoke formally. They'd never been friends.
“Well,” he said, politely.
They were silent for a moment. When he spoke again, he asked about her climate, her children, anything but the reason he had come. The conversation was tense and uncomfortable, and just as she was about to bring it up, he looked away, and said, “Let me help you.” The Spanish surprised her-- his accent was strange, but not bad. She wondered if she'd ever heard her language from his mouth before.
She met his eyes, look questioning. He shifted, and looked away. The discomfort in his expression told her everything she needed to know. She smiled, sadly, almost tenderly, and leaned in to kiss his cheek, smiling when he flinched. “Kiku, my friend--” he looked up, hopefully. “--I would ally myself with you in a moment, but I would rather die than join the Coalition.”
The pain on his face told her that he thought she very well might.
He bowed formally, and turned to go. She felt something wrench as she watched him walk away.
Warnings: Lack of sex
Summary: In a possible future, Peru has to make a decision.
Characters: Peru, Japan
Year: ~2050
Peru-- Maria Elena Soledad de la Cruz Jimenez-- had always had a special relationship with Japan. From the beginning of the 20th century, back when she still lived as a child in Spain's house, when his peasants came to work her fields, to the seventies when their descendants (her children now, but still with an affinity for him) started to return, lured by his financial success, scared of the turmoil in her government. She hadn't begrudged him that; she had always felt that she only had them on loan... and anyway, many chose to stay. When he took in her old boss, Fujimori, when he was on trial for crimes against humanity, she was indignant, but not truly angry.
Otherwise, they had mostly ignored each other; they lived on opposite sides of the globe, and had little in common. But as time went on, the war intensified; the former third world finally had the chance to pay back their former colonizers, now that these had finally come to peace with each other and disassembled their militaries, forgetting about the poorer countries until it was too late. It was fast becoming time to choose.
Kiku, as he told her to call him that day, came to see her personally. She hadn't even agreed to see Alfred (“America,” he liked to be called, no matter that she was as American as him). He'd never given her the time of day before the war; she had no interest in hearing what he had to say. But Japan-- Kiku-- was different. When he came to her door, she let him in.
“Nippon-koku,” she said, nodding in greeting, the air tense with unsaid words.
“Kiku.”
“Kiku,” she agreed, smiling quietly and bitterly. He had never asked her to call him that before the war, before he needed her help.
“Peru-- Maria.” She noted absently the strange, staccato way her said her name, the same as always. “How are you fairing?” They would speak in Japanese today, it seemed. Her Japanese was limited, but he was nervous, and the last thing she wanted was to fall back on English.
“As well as can be expected.” He nodded in acknowledgment. “And you?” She spoke formally. They'd never been friends.
“Well,” he said, politely.
They were silent for a moment. When he spoke again, he asked about her climate, her children, anything but the reason he had come. The conversation was tense and uncomfortable, and just as she was about to bring it up, he looked away, and said, “Let me help you.” The Spanish surprised her-- his accent was strange, but not bad. She wondered if she'd ever heard her language from his mouth before.
She met his eyes, look questioning. He shifted, and looked away. The discomfort in his expression told her everything she needed to know. She smiled, sadly, almost tenderly, and leaned in to kiss his cheek, smiling when he flinched. “Kiku, my friend--” he looked up, hopefully. “--I would ally myself with you in a moment, but I would rather die than join the Coalition.”
The pain on his face told her that he thought she very well might.
He bowed formally, and turned to go. She felt something wrench as she watched him walk away.