Summer monsoons
For the love_and_tea community's summer spree. I never knew that writing two imperialistic nations baring their teeth at each other would be so hard. OTL
Title: Summer Wars
Pairings/Characters: Imperial!England & Black!Japan with cameos by France and America.
Rating: PG and above for language and possibly racist insults.
Warnings: Crack all the way through. I throw myself at the mercy of military weapons and history experts and beg that they not slaughter me for the very random names I have thrown into this fic. If you're looking for fluff and love this definitely isn't it.
Summary: The beach definitely isn't big enough for two imperial nations.
SUMMER WARS
"Well-met, Japan."
The Asian nation did not go so far as to curl his lip with distaste at the greeting, but the look in his eyes as he stared levelly at the approaching man was enough to send a sudden chill through the warm afternoon air.
"I did not expect to see you here, England," he replied calmly. "Does the English dog not have his own beaches to rut in that he has to come and taint others?"
"Last I heard," England said nonchalantly, coming close enough to Japan to sneer down at him, "The Japanese rabbits were burrowing in their holes during the summer. Pray tell what happened to bring you out of your filthy burrows and onto the pristine beaches?"
Japan's sword flashed bright in the sunlight, clashing sharply against England's blade drawn just as swiftly.
"Must you pollute the season with your filthy existence?" he hissed.
"I could say the same of you," growled England. "The sea and beaches in this area have always been the property of Great Britannia. I do not recall giving permission for filthy yellow rats to roam as they please here."
"Such ignorance," Japan scoffed. "The summer days with their extended daylight have always been the favorable time for training and exploration. The beaches are no exception, and certainly do not belong to uncultured barbarians who do not know how to appreciate them."
Green eyes flashed with predatory anticipation. England leaned in, bringing the full weight of his body down on his opponent.
"You dare claim ownership over what is mine?"
Refusing to buckle under the pressure, Japan's sword slid deftly under England's, the clashing metals sending sparks scattering into the air as he spun around swiftly to face the other nation.
"I do not need to make claims when something clearly belongs to me," he replied coldly. "You are the one challenging ownership."
England once again brought his sword to bear, his fighting spirit aroused. "If it's a fight you want, I have never been known to turn anyone down."
Surprisingly enough, the other nation did not raise his own weapon in response. Dark eyes gleamed as he viewed England in a new light. His lips stretched into a thin smile as he smoothly slid his sword back into its scabbard.
"A mere duel is boring. How you have survived for so long on such slow thinking has always been a surprise, but I suppose not much should be expected from the Europeans."
Cutting off short a heated roar of objection from England he faced his opponent, and baring his teeth threw down his challenge.
"I suggest a bet be included as well. The terms are that the loser has to wear this."
With a grand flourish, Japan presented the object he had pulled out from behind his back in all its glory. There was a pause, followed by the sound of England biting back the first response to come to his tongue. Gritting his teeth, he rallied back with something of his own.
"Very well. In that case, I'm certainly looking forward to seeing you grovel before me in this little thing."
Japan's eyes widened. He took a step back in shock, the object between England's fingers fluttering before him as if to taunt him with its mere existence. This time it was his turn to clench his teeth. Eyes smouldering with determination, he once again drew his weapon and leveled it at the man standing before him.
"The beaches will be mine!"
"You speak too soon!"
And so war was declared.
☀
The waters of the beach, normally gently lapping at the shores during the other seasons, were generally expected to be lively during the summer. During those few sunny months it tended to be filled with frolicking swimmers, beach toys, various sea creatures as well as the occasional shark. Today however, all of the mentioned were quickly displaced by huge metal machines rising majestically from the frothing waters, their metallic sides gleaming in the sun. A nation stood on the hub of each ship, their fighting spirits on par with the torrid weather as they issued commands in what was basically a one to one scale of Battleships.
"Kirishima! Haruna! Come forth!"
"Don't make me laugh! Jervis! Vanguard!"
"Yamato! Nagato!"
"Cavalier! Crusader!"
More ships appeared on the horizon and sailed onto the previously peaceful waters. Cannons boomed, each firing at the enemy and filling the blue sky with smoke and fire.
"Do not think that you have won yet! I-8!"
"Submarines now? Did you honestly think you had a chance against my Seawolf?"
It was later after Japan narrowly avoided having his head taken off by friendly fire and England had climbed back up to his post after being hurled ungracefully into the sea by the impact of another English ship getting too close for comfort that both nations had the thought that perhaps the waters really weren't big enough for the both of them, and that such grand warfare worthy of their names might have been conducted more successfully in wider waters with more room to navigate.
The two beached submarines sitting silently on the sandy shores would have agreed, and added on their suggestion for deeper ones as well.
☀
Blindfolded, Japan stood tall and calm, at one with the land, the sea and the sky. He felt the sand beneath his feet, the tiny grains crumbling between his toes, the reassuring heft of the weapon in his hand.
"Come on, come on, come on," said England impatiently. "We don't have all day. Just hit the damn watermelon already. If you can, that is."
Japan took a deep breath. Then with a single movement, he whirled around and struck his target.
England twitched, both arms straining as Japan stoically continued to bear down upon him with his full weight.
"The watermelon, Japan," he gritted out between clenched teeth, "The WATERMELON. And weren't you supposed to use a stick?"
"Rather than waste useful natural resources, I thought your empty head would make a fine substitute for the fruit."
☀
Great towers and turrets shone yellow and smooth under the sun. Wiping the sweat from his brow, England looked across the beach to where his rival was laboring under the blazing heat.
"And how are your rabbit hutches coming along?"
Japan did not find it worth his time to look up from his work and continued to impassively pat sand into place with his shovel.
"Empty vessels make the most noise, England. From what I have seen it would seem that noise is the only thing you are capable of making."
"Hah! Words mean nothing when the difference in skill is apparent."
Huge sandcastles, complete with deep moats and spiraling towers spanned the entire width and length of the beach, in clear competition with the magnificent sand temples and shrines on Japan's side. Enthusiasts of the fine art of sandcastle sculpting would have swooned and called them masterpieces and demanded that they be preserved for all eternity for future generations to observe and learn from.
It was therefore a great pity when the tide rolled in and took with it the hopes of all future sandcastle sculptors, leaving behind nothing but a clean, blank slate and the anguish of their builders.
☀
A shout hailed England from where he had been plotting mayhem and destruction on Japan's latest war efforts. Looking up, he perceived with a frown America making his way towards him at a brisk pace, trailed by France at a slower walk.
"England! You and Japan seem to be having fun! Let me join in!"
The sudden glare which issued from England's eyes should have been piercing enough to penetrate steel, but on America it simply bounced off and impaled an unfortunate seagull which had the misfortune to be flying overhead at the moment. Oblivious to the fallen bird at his feet, England drew himself up to his full length.
"Keep out of this, America," he said sternly, heavy eyebrows bristling dangerously. "There will be no interference in this duel between men. The sacred beaches of Britannia and English summers are at stake here!"
"What duel? All I see are you guys building sandcastles and busting watermelons. I can swing a bat pretty well myself, you know."
The mere thought of someone else so callously cutting into an honorable duel between long-sworn rivals gave England unprecedented extra inches to his height, and he was about to put these additional inches to good use by towering darkly over America and inflicting upon him the bloody and brutal consequences of disregarding his words when France decided that it was his turn to intervene. Swinging an arm around America's shoulder, he pivoted and casually hauled the younger nation away.
"I think it would be in our best interest not to disturb England at this time," he said in answer to America's very vocal protests. "Can you not tell that he is clearly enjoying himself? Only when he is with Japan then this fine spirit is brought out in its full splendid glory. Now I believe you would agree with me that this rare display is best savored under the shelter of a cafe, a fine wine in one hand, an even finer waiter or waitresses in the other. Imagine, England thrusts, Japan parries, their shirtless bodies flexing and twisting as they dance on the sand, their sweat beading and flying under the sparkling summer sunlight..."
America looked up as France's eyes took on a distant gleam and his breathing became noticeably heavier, and made great haste to remove the others' arm from around his shoulders.
☀
Having bore witness to the two nations making war on each other for the past ten hours or so, the sun finally decided to call it a day and begun its descent into the horizon. The setting light of that celestial entity bathed the beach and the two battle-weary imperial nations facing off each other on its shores. Bearing the scars of the day's challenges, the men eyed each other with a grudging appreciation for the others' spirit and stubbornness, if nothing else.
"Tired already, scum?" Arthur managed to rasp out, the adrenaline running wildly through his veins making him light-headed. Japan steadied his footing on the sand and squinted fiercely at his opponent, blinking sweat and exhaustion out of his eyes.
"I'm not the one short of breath here."
Arthur grinned, his throat burning. It was all he could do to keep himself upright, yet he would be damned if he let Japan see that.
"I suppose I could be lenient. After all, it's only courtesy to extend graciousness to the weaker party."
Japan glared as he raised his sword, sheer willpower and discipline preventing the blade from trembling.
"I would not give up the pleasure of watching you fall to your knees before me."
"One last bout to decide it all."
"For once, I agree with you. You will kneel before me!"
"Grovel in my dust!"
☀
Flat on their backs, the last rays of the sun reflected in their eyes, the two nations silently contemplated the results of the day. With neither energy nor resources left to spare, both of them were unwilling to call an end to their duel nor admit defeat, their prides still burning strong if nothing else.
"My blade was faster than yours."
"Mine cut deeper than your flimsy metal."
"So why are you not moving?"
"I should ask the same of you."
The pause extended into a strange companionable silence.
"We should continue this tomorrow."
Japan scoffed. "Unlike you, I have a meeting with my superiors in the morning. I do not have time to spare over such meaningless things."
Summoning the last of his strength, the Asian nation sat up and leaned over England, planting both hands in the sand on either sides of his head.
"Do you admit defeat, England?"
Baring his teeth, England raised a hand and closed it over Japan's throat.
"Never."
Both smirked, the fires of the battle still burning bright within them.
"Nevertheless, we shall have to bring an end to this."
England twitched as a certain light he had come to recognize entered Japan's eyes. One of his hands lifted from the sand and stole behind his back, and the twitch turned into a near convulsion as what Japan brought out came to light.
"There is no possible way on earth I am putting that on--"
Japan's smile flashed eerily in the rays of the setting sun.
☀
Japan primly adjusted the folds of his apron as England tried as nonchalantly as possible to keep a firm hand on his miniskirt in the hope of preventing it from constantly riding upwards as it was wont to do.
"So much for my angel in white," Japan sighed, disappointment evident in his voice as he gazed distastefully at the man next to him. "Then again, I suppose I should not have expected much from you to begin with. You have just single-handedly shattered the dreams of all men who fantasize about nurses. I hope you are proud of yourself."
"The little maid should not talk so much," England gritted. Catching hold of Japan's chin, he forced it upwards, all the better to see the glare in the other man's eyes. He nodded with approval at the frilly white maid's cap on the other nation's head as Japan's eyes slanted into a scowl. "I do admit you look quite fetching in that costume though. Should you ever consider a change of careers, you know my door will always be open for you and my porch ready for you to sink to your knees and clean. Now, say 'Master'."
"Would Master like his throat cut so that he squeals like the pig he is?"
Fireworks suddenly exploded overhead, giving the two pause. Looking up at the blooming flowers of fire in the night sky above them, all enmity was forgotten for a moment as they sat back and marveled silently.
"It's summer."
"Yes, it is."
"You mean, 'Yes, Master'."
"Die, false brutish nurse."
In the cafe behind them, France and America toasted to the end of a perfect summer's day.
Title: Summer Wars
Pairings/Characters: Imperial!England & Black!Japan with cameos by France and America.
Rating: PG and above for language and possibly racist insults.
Warnings: Crack all the way through. I throw myself at the mercy of military weapons and history experts and beg that they not slaughter me for the very random names I have thrown into this fic. If you're looking for fluff and love this definitely isn't it.
Summary: The beach definitely isn't big enough for two imperial nations.
SUMMER WARS
"Well-met, Japan."
The Asian nation did not go so far as to curl his lip with distaste at the greeting, but the look in his eyes as he stared levelly at the approaching man was enough to send a sudden chill through the warm afternoon air.
"I did not expect to see you here, England," he replied calmly. "Does the English dog not have his own beaches to rut in that he has to come and taint others?"
"Last I heard," England said nonchalantly, coming close enough to Japan to sneer down at him, "The Japanese rabbits were burrowing in their holes during the summer. Pray tell what happened to bring you out of your filthy burrows and onto the pristine beaches?"
Japan's sword flashed bright in the sunlight, clashing sharply against England's blade drawn just as swiftly.
"Must you pollute the season with your filthy existence?" he hissed.
"I could say the same of you," growled England. "The sea and beaches in this area have always been the property of Great Britannia. I do not recall giving permission for filthy yellow rats to roam as they please here."
"Such ignorance," Japan scoffed. "The summer days with their extended daylight have always been the favorable time for training and exploration. The beaches are no exception, and certainly do not belong to uncultured barbarians who do not know how to appreciate them."
Green eyes flashed with predatory anticipation. England leaned in, bringing the full weight of his body down on his opponent.
"You dare claim ownership over what is mine?"
Refusing to buckle under the pressure, Japan's sword slid deftly under England's, the clashing metals sending sparks scattering into the air as he spun around swiftly to face the other nation.
"I do not need to make claims when something clearly belongs to me," he replied coldly. "You are the one challenging ownership."
England once again brought his sword to bear, his fighting spirit aroused. "If it's a fight you want, I have never been known to turn anyone down."
Surprisingly enough, the other nation did not raise his own weapon in response. Dark eyes gleamed as he viewed England in a new light. His lips stretched into a thin smile as he smoothly slid his sword back into its scabbard.
"A mere duel is boring. How you have survived for so long on such slow thinking has always been a surprise, but I suppose not much should be expected from the Europeans."
Cutting off short a heated roar of objection from England he faced his opponent, and baring his teeth threw down his challenge.
"I suggest a bet be included as well. The terms are that the loser has to wear this."
With a grand flourish, Japan presented the object he had pulled out from behind his back in all its glory. There was a pause, followed by the sound of England biting back the first response to come to his tongue. Gritting his teeth, he rallied back with something of his own.
"Very well. In that case, I'm certainly looking forward to seeing you grovel before me in this little thing."
Japan's eyes widened. He took a step back in shock, the object between England's fingers fluttering before him as if to taunt him with its mere existence. This time it was his turn to clench his teeth. Eyes smouldering with determination, he once again drew his weapon and leveled it at the man standing before him.
"The beaches will be mine!"
"You speak too soon!"
And so war was declared.
☀
The waters of the beach, normally gently lapping at the shores during the other seasons, were generally expected to be lively during the summer. During those few sunny months it tended to be filled with frolicking swimmers, beach toys, various sea creatures as well as the occasional shark. Today however, all of the mentioned were quickly displaced by huge metal machines rising majestically from the frothing waters, their metallic sides gleaming in the sun. A nation stood on the hub of each ship, their fighting spirits on par with the torrid weather as they issued commands in what was basically a one to one scale of Battleships.
"Kirishima! Haruna! Come forth!"
"Don't make me laugh! Jervis! Vanguard!"
"Yamato! Nagato!"
"Cavalier! Crusader!"
More ships appeared on the horizon and sailed onto the previously peaceful waters. Cannons boomed, each firing at the enemy and filling the blue sky with smoke and fire.
"Do not think that you have won yet! I-8!"
"Submarines now? Did you honestly think you had a chance against my Seawolf?"
It was later after Japan narrowly avoided having his head taken off by friendly fire and England had climbed back up to his post after being hurled ungracefully into the sea by the impact of another English ship getting too close for comfort that both nations had the thought that perhaps the waters really weren't big enough for the both of them, and that such grand warfare worthy of their names might have been conducted more successfully in wider waters with more room to navigate.
The two beached submarines sitting silently on the sandy shores would have agreed, and added on their suggestion for deeper ones as well.
☀
Blindfolded, Japan stood tall and calm, at one with the land, the sea and the sky. He felt the sand beneath his feet, the tiny grains crumbling between his toes, the reassuring heft of the weapon in his hand.
"Come on, come on, come on," said England impatiently. "We don't have all day. Just hit the damn watermelon already. If you can, that is."
Japan took a deep breath. Then with a single movement, he whirled around and struck his target.
England twitched, both arms straining as Japan stoically continued to bear down upon him with his full weight.
"The watermelon, Japan," he gritted out between clenched teeth, "The WATERMELON. And weren't you supposed to use a stick?"
"Rather than waste useful natural resources, I thought your empty head would make a fine substitute for the fruit."
☀
Great towers and turrets shone yellow and smooth under the sun. Wiping the sweat from his brow, England looked across the beach to where his rival was laboring under the blazing heat.
"And how are your rabbit hutches coming along?"
Japan did not find it worth his time to look up from his work and continued to impassively pat sand into place with his shovel.
"Empty vessels make the most noise, England. From what I have seen it would seem that noise is the only thing you are capable of making."
"Hah! Words mean nothing when the difference in skill is apparent."
Huge sandcastles, complete with deep moats and spiraling towers spanned the entire width and length of the beach, in clear competition with the magnificent sand temples and shrines on Japan's side. Enthusiasts of the fine art of sandcastle sculpting would have swooned and called them masterpieces and demanded that they be preserved for all eternity for future generations to observe and learn from.
It was therefore a great pity when the tide rolled in and took with it the hopes of all future sandcastle sculptors, leaving behind nothing but a clean, blank slate and the anguish of their builders.
☀
A shout hailed England from where he had been plotting mayhem and destruction on Japan's latest war efforts. Looking up, he perceived with a frown America making his way towards him at a brisk pace, trailed by France at a slower walk.
"England! You and Japan seem to be having fun! Let me join in!"
The sudden glare which issued from England's eyes should have been piercing enough to penetrate steel, but on America it simply bounced off and impaled an unfortunate seagull which had the misfortune to be flying overhead at the moment. Oblivious to the fallen bird at his feet, England drew himself up to his full length.
"Keep out of this, America," he said sternly, heavy eyebrows bristling dangerously. "There will be no interference in this duel between men. The sacred beaches of Britannia and English summers are at stake here!"
"What duel? All I see are you guys building sandcastles and busting watermelons. I can swing a bat pretty well myself, you know."
The mere thought of someone else so callously cutting into an honorable duel between long-sworn rivals gave England unprecedented extra inches to his height, and he was about to put these additional inches to good use by towering darkly over America and inflicting upon him the bloody and brutal consequences of disregarding his words when France decided that it was his turn to intervene. Swinging an arm around America's shoulder, he pivoted and casually hauled the younger nation away.
"I think it would be in our best interest not to disturb England at this time," he said in answer to America's very vocal protests. "Can you not tell that he is clearly enjoying himself? Only when he is with Japan then this fine spirit is brought out in its full splendid glory. Now I believe you would agree with me that this rare display is best savored under the shelter of a cafe, a fine wine in one hand, an even finer waiter or waitresses in the other. Imagine, England thrusts, Japan parries, their shirtless bodies flexing and twisting as they dance on the sand, their sweat beading and flying under the sparkling summer sunlight..."
America looked up as France's eyes took on a distant gleam and his breathing became noticeably heavier, and made great haste to remove the others' arm from around his shoulders.
☀
Having bore witness to the two nations making war on each other for the past ten hours or so, the sun finally decided to call it a day and begun its descent into the horizon. The setting light of that celestial entity bathed the beach and the two battle-weary imperial nations facing off each other on its shores. Bearing the scars of the day's challenges, the men eyed each other with a grudging appreciation for the others' spirit and stubbornness, if nothing else.
"Tired already, scum?" Arthur managed to rasp out, the adrenaline running wildly through his veins making him light-headed. Japan steadied his footing on the sand and squinted fiercely at his opponent, blinking sweat and exhaustion out of his eyes.
"I'm not the one short of breath here."
Arthur grinned, his throat burning. It was all he could do to keep himself upright, yet he would be damned if he let Japan see that.
"I suppose I could be lenient. After all, it's only courtesy to extend graciousness to the weaker party."
Japan glared as he raised his sword, sheer willpower and discipline preventing the blade from trembling.
"I would not give up the pleasure of watching you fall to your knees before me."
"One last bout to decide it all."
"For once, I agree with you. You will kneel before me!"
"Grovel in my dust!"
☀
Flat on their backs, the last rays of the sun reflected in their eyes, the two nations silently contemplated the results of the day. With neither energy nor resources left to spare, both of them were unwilling to call an end to their duel nor admit defeat, their prides still burning strong if nothing else.
"My blade was faster than yours."
"Mine cut deeper than your flimsy metal."
"So why are you not moving?"
"I should ask the same of you."
The pause extended into a strange companionable silence.
"We should continue this tomorrow."
Japan scoffed. "Unlike you, I have a meeting with my superiors in the morning. I do not have time to spare over such meaningless things."
Summoning the last of his strength, the Asian nation sat up and leaned over England, planting both hands in the sand on either sides of his head.
"Do you admit defeat, England?"
Baring his teeth, England raised a hand and closed it over Japan's throat.
"Never."
Both smirked, the fires of the battle still burning bright within them.
"Nevertheless, we shall have to bring an end to this."
England twitched as a certain light he had come to recognize entered Japan's eyes. One of his hands lifted from the sand and stole behind his back, and the twitch turned into a near convulsion as what Japan brought out came to light.
"There is no possible way on earth I am putting that on--"
Japan's smile flashed eerily in the rays of the setting sun.
☀
Japan primly adjusted the folds of his apron as England tried as nonchalantly as possible to keep a firm hand on his miniskirt in the hope of preventing it from constantly riding upwards as it was wont to do.
"So much for my angel in white," Japan sighed, disappointment evident in his voice as he gazed distastefully at the man next to him. "Then again, I suppose I should not have expected much from you to begin with. You have just single-handedly shattered the dreams of all men who fantasize about nurses. I hope you are proud of yourself."
"The little maid should not talk so much," England gritted. Catching hold of Japan's chin, he forced it upwards, all the better to see the glare in the other man's eyes. He nodded with approval at the frilly white maid's cap on the other nation's head as Japan's eyes slanted into a scowl. "I do admit you look quite fetching in that costume though. Should you ever consider a change of careers, you know my door will always be open for you and my porch ready for you to sink to your knees and clean. Now, say 'Master'."
"Would Master like his throat cut so that he squeals like the pig he is?"
Fireworks suddenly exploded overhead, giving the two pause. Looking up at the blooming flowers of fire in the night sky above them, all enmity was forgotten for a moment as they sat back and marveled silently.
"It's summer."
"Yes, it is."
"You mean, 'Yes, Master'."
"Die, false brutish nurse."
In the cafe behind them, France and America toasted to the end of a perfect summer's day.