Go Not Gently [1/1]
anonymous
February 3 2009, 20:20:06 UTC
The catch is you get serious gen, not sexytimes.
--
Korea watches his boss sign the treaty with purely-concealed rage. He is shaking with fury, fists hidden by the drape of his long sleeves, and he is sure - he hopes - that his boss must feel the same.
They have no choice, of course; that doesn't make it any better.
Japan is watching him intently, almost curious, and his eyes widen ever so slightly as the treaty is finalized and the annexation is made horribly official and Korea continues to snarl at him silently from across the room.
It isn't until much much later that Korea realizes the other nation was waiting for him to simply wink out of existence.
*
His people do not go quietly - and Korea and his people are the same, so he does not go either.
He stands with them when they read the declarations of independence in Seoul, cold and proud and brave in the March weather. He marches with them in the rallies. He carries guns and bullets and fights with the Dongnipgun, striking from Primorsky Krai and Manchuria and wherever else China and Russia will lend him shelter.
He is shot. He goes hungry. He huddles in the church of Cheam-Ni, trapped inside with his people, and burns alive - but he does not die, and every time Japan catches a glimpse of him, his expression changes and his jaw tightens and Korea knows he is still surprised, even though he shouldn't be.
Korea is the son of Paekche and Silla and Koguryo. He is strong. He exists. His people believe in him.
It has always taken more than fire and bullets to kill a nation.
*
"You will take a proper name," Japan says once. "You will speak my language. You are a part of me now."
Korea glares at him, unrepentant, and thinks of the defaced monuments, the forbidden languages, the burned books, the schools stripped of their history, the literature mutilated almost beyond recognition.
Between nations, it is something like slow, painful poisoning - but his people are strong, his people know who they are.
"Fuck you," he says - in his own forbidden language, of course - and makes a concerted effort to shoot Japan in the head.
*
Sometimes he follows his people over the sea to Japanese soil once the war starts and sometimes he is merely herded with them into the horrible factories littering his landscape, conscripted like them and starved like them and bombed like them.
He stands for execution with the resistance fighters and wakes up alone in a pile of dead.
He worships the Shinto shrine at gunpoint.
He watches, angry and desperate and helpless, as his people are beaten and raped and starved and shot - hundreds of thousands of them, more than he thinks he will ever be able to count.
But he does not disappear. He is not part of Japan.
The war ends and he does not disappear.
He is divided and he does not disappear.
Japan forgets - or maybe remembers to forget - but Korea does not.
*
"And why are you so loud?" the other nations ask. "Why are you like this?"
Korea revels in the sound of his own language, his own poetry, his history no longer rewritten and his flag and anthem and alphabet all his own.
Re: Go Not Gently [1/1]
anonymous
February 3 2009, 21:14:09 UTC
... wow.
I'm the anon up above who asked a couple weeks ago if the OP would mind a rape scene set during the colonial period; since I'm incredibly laggy (and sometimes kind of tasteless), I'm pleased someone else wrote something. This is incredibly striking, and your imagery is wonderful. I love this.
Re: Go Not Gently [1/1]
anonymous
February 5 2009, 03:18:47 UTC
...yes.
I don't have much else to add -- not much else that's coherent, anyway. That last section was absolutely perfect, and I love how it puts his behavior in Hetalia in context and makes sense and -- yeah. This. I love this.
--
Korea watches his boss sign the treaty with purely-concealed rage. He is shaking with fury, fists hidden by the drape of his long sleeves, and he is sure - he hopes - that his boss must feel the same.
They have no choice, of course; that doesn't make it any better.
Japan is watching him intently, almost curious, and his eyes widen ever so slightly as the treaty is finalized and the annexation is made horribly official and Korea continues to snarl at him silently from across the room.
It isn't until much much later that Korea realizes the other nation was waiting for him to simply wink out of existence.
*
His people do not go quietly - and Korea and his people are the same, so he does not go either.
He stands with them when they read the declarations of independence in Seoul, cold and proud and brave in the March weather. He marches with them in the rallies. He carries guns and bullets and fights with the Dongnipgun, striking from Primorsky Krai and Manchuria and wherever else China and Russia will lend him shelter.
He is shot. He goes hungry. He huddles in the church of Cheam-Ni, trapped inside with his people, and burns alive - but he does not die, and every time Japan catches a glimpse of him, his expression changes and his jaw tightens and Korea knows he is still surprised, even though he shouldn't be.
Korea is the son of Paekche and Silla and Koguryo. He is strong. He exists. His people believe in him.
It has always taken more than fire and bullets to kill a nation.
*
"You will take a proper name," Japan says once. "You will speak my language. You are a part of me now."
Korea glares at him, unrepentant, and thinks of the defaced monuments, the forbidden languages, the burned books, the schools stripped of their history, the literature mutilated almost beyond recognition.
Between nations, it is something like slow, painful poisoning - but his people are strong, his people know who they are.
"Fuck you," he says - in his own forbidden language, of course - and makes a concerted effort to shoot Japan in the head.
*
Sometimes he follows his people over the sea to Japanese soil once the war starts and sometimes he is merely herded with them into the horrible factories littering his landscape, conscripted like them and starved like them and bombed like them.
He stands for execution with the resistance fighters and wakes up alone in a pile of dead.
He worships the Shinto shrine at gunpoint.
He watches, angry and desperate and helpless, as his people are beaten and raped and starved and shot - hundreds of thousands of them, more than he thinks he will ever be able to count.
But he does not disappear. He is not part of Japan.
The war ends and he does not disappear.
He is divided and he does not disappear.
Japan forgets - or maybe remembers to forget - but Korea does not.
*
"And why are you so loud?" the other nations ask. "Why are you like this?"
Korea revels in the sound of his own language, his own poetry, his history no longer rewritten and his flag and anthem and alphabet all his own.
He feels no need to explain himself to them.
Reply
Beautifully, tastefully presented!!
Reply
I'm the anon up above who asked a couple weeks ago if the OP would mind a rape scene set during the colonial period; since I'm incredibly laggy (and sometimes kind of tasteless), I'm pleased someone else wrote something. This is incredibly striking, and your imagery is wonderful. I love this.
Reply
Reply
I don't have much else to add -- not much else that's coherent, anyway. That last section was absolutely perfect, and I love how it puts his behavior in Hetalia in context and makes sense and -- yeah. This. I love this.
Reply
Bravo, anon, bravo!
Reply
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