[APH] Whispers
Title: Whispers
Category: Axis Powers Hetalia / Hetalia World Series
Characters/Pairings: fem!China, Japan
Genre/Rating/Warnings: general/G/none, lameness, non-sequitur
Summary/Excerpt: He wonders what it's like being a country.
A/N: …wherein Japan is various flora and fauna and China has many red dresses. Happy (belated?) Birthday kecen! Sorry for the super lateness and lameness of this fic. Hope you enjoy!
Whispers
The wind sees her stumble into the peach tree's wedding at the orchard behind the merchant's house. She almost cries out in surprise at the sight of the slow, elaborate ceremony but skilfully hides behind a bush.
"Your red dress outdoes the bride's," remarks the plant.
She takes a glance at the quivering leaves before running back to the house. The wind follows her and takes her by her long black hair.
She falls to the ground and looks directly at him, eyes bright with annoyance. "Are you going to curse me, mountain god?" she challenges.
He is no mountain god. He stops blowing feebly at the fabric of her skirts like a curious idling child and asks, "Is it fun?"
She turns away and there is a wan smile on her face. "My lover and I were chasing each other in the garden and I took a wrong turn. Please let me go."
He does as he is told and she straightens herself magnificently. "If we meet again, I will answer your question."
A chorus of shimmering foliage resounds as she leaves.
- - - -
She walks like a red beacon along the harbor market. The children of the town take her calloused hands and pull her, laughing, past the shrine and into a field of wild grass.
She teaches them how to write using common wheat.
"We will give you a brush and an inkstone, teacher!" the children promise and adorn her dress with flowers from the edge of the forest. They string those together to create crowns and bracelets and make her wear them like jewels of royalty.
"I will tell you how the world began," she says and the children gather round, eager to listen. Whether they take her stories as mere travellers' tales or truth, she is sure they will grow to be owned by this land.
By nightfall, the children tell their parents her stories over meals by the stove firelight.
She gazes up at the proud stars.
"Is it fun?" asks the flowers by her feet.
"You ask an odd question, little one," she smiles. "Have you ever thought of leaving this place?"
He stays quiet and sinks into the ground. He feels the edges of his land and says. "The water is warm."
"Not yet then," she answers and walks away.
Her royal jewelleries turn brown at the edges.
- - - -
They bring him to her as funeral lilies. He lifts the tears from her eyes and they slide down the curve of his petal into the cup of his bloom.
"She was a dear friend," she tells him. "I've known her since she was little. She wanted to travel, but chose to devote herself to her family after her husband died."
He sways a little and sees two strong, honest sons by the dead grandmother's bedside.
"Won't you see her off?" he asks, remembering paper lanters afloat on a purple stream and torii rising above the fog.
"I will ask you to." She kisses him and slips him into clasped old hands.
"Is this fun?" he asks.
"It is not."
And therefore, it is.
- - - -
She is a dancer at the emperor's court. She wears her finest red dress and moves so gracefully that every eye is on her, even that of the August cherry blossom tree peeking from the courtyard.
He touches her cheek with a blown leaf and she closes her eyes in comfort.
Later that evening, she shares tea with a rabbit.
"Dance for me," he pleads, pink nose twitching.
She giggles and pets him. "Aren't you needed on the moon?"
- - - -
"I didn't know you were a midwife," remarks the fire at the hearth.
"But weren't you a tree the last time we met?" she says and cleans the newborn with cloth and water before placing it gently on the mother's breast.
The fire crackles, knowing whatever she was, she would always have a soft spot for children.
"I wonder what kind of child you will be," she muses and feeds him logs. "Quiet, perhaps?"
"Is it fun?" he asks after a while.
"Yes."
- - - -
They finally meet, face to face, inside a beautiful bamboo forest. There is much rustling and creaking all around them. She feels they echo the age of her bones.
"Hello China, where the sun sets. I am Japan," he greets in a small voice.
"Well, aren't you rude!"
END
Category: Axis Powers Hetalia / Hetalia World Series
Characters/Pairings: fem!China, Japan
Genre/Rating/Warnings: general/G/none, lameness, non-sequitur
Summary/Excerpt: He wonders what it's like being a country.
A/N: …wherein Japan is various flora and fauna and China has many red dresses. Happy (belated?) Birthday kecen! Sorry for the super lateness and lameness of this fic. Hope you enjoy!
Whispers
The wind sees her stumble into the peach tree's wedding at the orchard behind the merchant's house. She almost cries out in surprise at the sight of the slow, elaborate ceremony but skilfully hides behind a bush.
"Your red dress outdoes the bride's," remarks the plant.
She takes a glance at the quivering leaves before running back to the house. The wind follows her and takes her by her long black hair.
She falls to the ground and looks directly at him, eyes bright with annoyance. "Are you going to curse me, mountain god?" she challenges.
He is no mountain god. He stops blowing feebly at the fabric of her skirts like a curious idling child and asks, "Is it fun?"
She turns away and there is a wan smile on her face. "My lover and I were chasing each other in the garden and I took a wrong turn. Please let me go."
He does as he is told and she straightens herself magnificently. "If we meet again, I will answer your question."
A chorus of shimmering foliage resounds as she leaves.
- - - -
She walks like a red beacon along the harbor market. The children of the town take her calloused hands and pull her, laughing, past the shrine and into a field of wild grass.
She teaches them how to write using common wheat.
"We will give you a brush and an inkstone, teacher!" the children promise and adorn her dress with flowers from the edge of the forest. They string those together to create crowns and bracelets and make her wear them like jewels of royalty.
"I will tell you how the world began," she says and the children gather round, eager to listen. Whether they take her stories as mere travellers' tales or truth, she is sure they will grow to be owned by this land.
By nightfall, the children tell their parents her stories over meals by the stove firelight.
She gazes up at the proud stars.
"Is it fun?" asks the flowers by her feet.
"You ask an odd question, little one," she smiles. "Have you ever thought of leaving this place?"
He stays quiet and sinks into the ground. He feels the edges of his land and says. "The water is warm."
"Not yet then," she answers and walks away.
Her royal jewelleries turn brown at the edges.
- - - -
They bring him to her as funeral lilies. He lifts the tears from her eyes and they slide down the curve of his petal into the cup of his bloom.
"She was a dear friend," she tells him. "I've known her since she was little. She wanted to travel, but chose to devote herself to her family after her husband died."
He sways a little and sees two strong, honest sons by the dead grandmother's bedside.
"Won't you see her off?" he asks, remembering paper lanters afloat on a purple stream and torii rising above the fog.
"I will ask you to." She kisses him and slips him into clasped old hands.
"Is this fun?" he asks.
"It is not."
And therefore, it is.
- - - -
She is a dancer at the emperor's court. She wears her finest red dress and moves so gracefully that every eye is on her, even that of the August cherry blossom tree peeking from the courtyard.
He touches her cheek with a blown leaf and she closes her eyes in comfort.
Later that evening, she shares tea with a rabbit.
"Dance for me," he pleads, pink nose twitching.
She giggles and pets him. "Aren't you needed on the moon?"
- - - -
"I didn't know you were a midwife," remarks the fire at the hearth.
"But weren't you a tree the last time we met?" she says and cleans the newborn with cloth and water before placing it gently on the mother's breast.
The fire crackles, knowing whatever she was, she would always have a soft spot for children.
"I wonder what kind of child you will be," she muses and feeds him logs. "Quiet, perhaps?"
"Is it fun?" he asks after a while.
"Yes."
- - - -
They finally meet, face to face, inside a beautiful bamboo forest. There is much rustling and creaking all around them. She feels they echo the age of her bones.
"Hello China, where the sun sets. I am Japan," he greets in a small voice.
"Well, aren't you rude!"
END