Fall-Strike Wine [1/2]
anonymous
March 22 2009, 05:00:29 UTC
They had to practice in secret - Toris had been surprised at Yao's willingness to take such risks, given the power Ivan held. All it had taken was his sincere expression of admiration at China's myriad of highly honed martial arts styles to convince the Asian to train him clandestinely; Yao, for his part, seemed only all too happy to impart what he knew. That day, the focus was on a new form of tai chi, formulated by Cheng Manching, which Yao had embraced enthusiastically. After dozens of slow repetitions of the various moves, he sighed, more mentally weary than physically. "Yao, could I take a break?"
"Sure, aru," the Asian replied, relaxing his stance only to start from the top. As Lithuania looked on, Yao moved through the motions rapidly, a maelstrom of power contained in what almost seemed like an elegant, fluid dance as one move flowed into another in a circle around his center of gravity. At its origin, China closed his eyes, the movements so ingrained as to be instinctive. Revitalized by the display, Toris approached the whirl of black and red, wanting to ask to continue practicing.
Unfortunately, Yao had become wholly lost in instinct; sensing someone closing in on him, he struck out, trapping the perceived opponent in a flurry of guiding blows before knocking him down on his back. A pained moan jarred China back to cognizance, and suddenly, Toris's hazy vision was filled by a fretful, deeply worried Asian, apologies strewn among babbled Chinese phrases.
"I'm so, so sorry, aru!" Yao finally cried, propping the European up with his body against Toris's back. When the latter winced at even that gentle contact, Yao's eyes gained an edge of horror; yet another stream of apologies followed, accompanied by his withdrawal of a bottle of liquid from his pants pocket. Before Toris could react, much less protest, the Asian lifted his shirt from his back, gasping sharply at what was revealed.
"Wh...what? What is this, aru?" China whispered, shock quieting his already soft voice.
"Don't worry about it," Lithuania replied with a wan smile, "It's nothing."
"Th-this isn't nothing, aru!" Yao hissed, his ire raised against whomever had hurt someone who, in his encounters, had always seemed so kind, "Who did this?" No reply came, but none was needed; after a pause, he answered his own question in hushed tones, hoping it wasn't true. "Ivan, aru?"
A slight bob of the head was the only affirmation he received. The Asian bristled with anger; he'd long suspected that Russia was an unreliable ally, but couldn't imagine Ivan would be so cruel as to commit such heinous acts against a country like Lithuania. At that moment, he resolved to oppose his fellow Communist nation, even if he had received aid from Russia in the past; such aid was tainted by the hand which gave it.
"Sure, aru," the Asian replied, relaxing his stance only to start from the top. As Lithuania looked on, Yao moved through the motions rapidly, a maelstrom of power contained in what almost seemed like an elegant, fluid dance as one move flowed into another in a circle around his center of gravity. At its origin, China closed his eyes, the movements so ingrained as to be instinctive. Revitalized by the display, Toris approached the whirl of black and red, wanting to ask to continue practicing.
Unfortunately, Yao had become wholly lost in instinct; sensing someone closing in on him, he struck out, trapping the perceived opponent in a flurry of guiding blows before knocking him down on his back. A pained moan jarred China back to cognizance, and suddenly, Toris's hazy vision was filled by a fretful, deeply worried Asian, apologies strewn among babbled Chinese phrases.
"I'm so, so sorry, aru!" Yao finally cried, propping the European up with his body against Toris's back. When the latter winced at even that gentle contact, Yao's eyes gained an edge of horror; yet another stream of apologies followed, accompanied by his withdrawal of a bottle of liquid from his pants pocket. Before Toris could react, much less protest, the Asian lifted his shirt from his back, gasping sharply at what was revealed.
"Wh...what? What is this, aru?" China whispered, shock quieting his already soft voice.
"Don't worry about it," Lithuania replied with a wan smile, "It's nothing."
"Th-this isn't nothing, aru!" Yao hissed, his ire raised against whomever had hurt someone who, in his encounters, had always seemed so kind, "Who did this?" No reply came, but none was needed; after a pause, he answered his own question in hushed tones, hoping it wasn't true. "Ivan, aru?"
A slight bob of the head was the only affirmation he received. The Asian bristled with anger; he'd long suspected that Russia was an unreliable ally, but couldn't imagine Ivan would be so cruel as to commit such heinous acts against a country like Lithuania. At that moment, he resolved to oppose his fellow Communist nation, even if he had received aid from Russia in the past; such aid was tainted by the hand which gave it.
"Stay still, aru."
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YAY for rare CPs and good writing!
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