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It was raining when Kiku woke up that morning. The gentle pitter-patter on the wooden porch was almost calming enough to lull him back to sleep. He sat with the door open to watch the calming weather, a teacup in his lap gently warming his palms.
The ring of his phone broke through the calm. He sighed. He had hoped to be left alone this morning. It was much too calming of a morning to be called in for some sort of emergency meeting or something of the like. However, he had an obligation as the body of Japan. So, with another exasperated sigh, he gently rose to his feet and moved to pick up the phone.
In truth, he had expected Ludwig or Alfred to be on the other end. He was surprised to, instead, hear Leon’s voice. It sounded panicked and concerned. Japan could only understand a few jumbled words, a mix of Chinese and English before he had to stop the other.
“Leon-chan, please calm down. I cannot understand what you’re saying.” Japan knew a good few languages but that didn’t mean that so early in the morning he would be able to follow along with the bilingual frantic cries of a distraught young man.
There was the sound of a calming breath. In for a few seconds then gently out. Then, in Japanese, Leon responded, “Lăoshī is home from the front lines. He is very badly injured. I,” his voice cracked softly. “I don’t know what to do.”
Kiku’s grip on the phone tightened. Yao was injured? How bad was ‘bad’? Was Leon just exaggerating the injuries for fear of his father figure’s wellbeing? Or was Yao truly in devastating condition?
Kiku allowed the breath he was unknowingly holding in to leave his lungs before he replied. “Alright, I will be there as soon as I can. For now, make sure he is in bed and bandaged to the best of your ability. Stay calm. Everything will be alright.” He tried his best to sound reassuring to the younger. Despite Leon’s more aloof nature, he did care. Kiku knew that. Just about everyone knew that. Well, maybe save for Yao himself who was constantly complaining about his shortcomings as a parent over tea.
Leon gave a short reply of understanding before the two both hung up.
Kiku quickly got dressed and made his way to Yao’s home. It wasn’t long after he knocked on the door that it opened.
Leon looked disheveled as if he too had only woken up a short while ago. He looked up at Kiku with what seemed to be relief.
Kiku didn’t even have time to properly greet Leon before the younger was moving for him to enter. The Japanese nation quickly stumbled in with a soft ‘thank you’ and a bow. After Kiku removed his shoes he was silently led farther into the house and down a hall to another room.
“He’s in there,” Leon mumbled, gesturing to the door. It was clear he was anxious and distraught.
Kiku sighed before offering the other a reassuring smile. “Do not worry. I’m sure everything will be alright. I can handle this from here if you would be more comfortable leaving.” Kiku was sure Yao wouldn’t hold it against his son if he chose not to see him in such a state—whatever state that might be.
Leon looked up at Kiku for a moment, almost unsure if he should take the other on his offer or not. After a moment of silent contemplation, Leon nodded and turned to abscond down the hall and somewhere else within the house.
Once he was gone, Kiku turned back towards the door and slowly opened it. “Yao-san?” he whispered gently into the dimly lit room. He eased the door closed behind him.
“Rìběn?” came a weak reply from the form on the bed.
“I apologize for the intrusion,” Kiku mumbled with a short bow. “Leon-chan called me and asked I come to aid you with your wounds.”
“You did not have to come,” he began and moved to sit up. “I am perfectly f- nh.” Yao’s words were cut off by a painful grunt and his movement stilled.
Kiku quickly moved to sit at Yao’s bedside, gently pushing the other back down. “Please, do not move so suddenly or you will agitate any injures you have.” He moved to light a set of candles. He feared electrical lights would only cause the elder Asian nation to gain a headache in such a seemingly frail state. When the flames sparked to life a soft glow fell across the room, making it easier to see.
Kiku looked down at Yao to fully access his condition. There were crudely wrapped bandaged around his head, chest, and arms. He had a slash over his left cheek under his eye. Yao was very lucky the injury wasn’t any higher. A pair of cinnamon brown eyes looked up at him with a pained, tired gaze in them.
“Are...” Kiku felt his voice attempt to die within his very throat. “Are you alright?”
“I think the exhaustion is keeping me distracted from the pain for now.”
“I am not sure if that is a good thing or not,” Kiku mumbled back with a smile.
Yao chuckled gently at the reply. “I have had better days,” he admitted, sighing. “But I have also had much worse.”
Kiku nodded as he took a closer look at the bandages. He then noted the first aid kit next to the bet that Leon must have left. “I will have to fix your bandaging. Did Leon clean your wounds yet?”
Yao gave a melancholy smile. “No. He was very hasty in his bandage work. I think he was too anxious. I never did like him seeing me in such a way. I normally try to steer clear of such run-ins.” Yao moved to sit up, only this time doing so very slowly so as not to cause too much pain to himself.
Kiku opened the first aid kit then paused. “Give me a moment,” he said before standing to leave the room. When he returned he held a small bowl of water and a rag. He sat the two next to the kit as he sat back next to the bed.
Kiku began with removing the bandaging that Leon had attempted. He was gentle with his work as he pulled off each one. He saw then the extent of Yao’s injures. Cuts and bullet wounds littered the man’s arms and chest along with scrapes and bruises, while his head and even hair were painted with partially dried blood. No wonder Leon had been so upset. This was not a very pleasant sight to wake up to.
“Do not worry about bullets,” Yao spoke up. “They were already taken out.”
Kiku nodded and quickly turned his mind to something else before he could linger on the unwanted imagery. He took the rag and dipped it into the water, making sure to squeeze it out some. He started with Yao’s arms. Gently, soothingly, washing over the wounds. Cleaning him of any blood and dirt that could cause discomfort or infection. Once his arms were clean he moved to the man’s chest. Just as gently as before he cleaned each wound in Yao’s skin. Before he moved to the head he looked up at Yao and asked, “Should I clean any wounds on your back?”
“No!” Yao snapped, causing Kiku to flinch back. Yao’s features softened when he realized he had startled the other. “Ah- no. My back is fine,” he mumbled.
Kiku only nodded. He moved to get closer to the other so he could reach his head. He started with Yao’s forehead, softly cleaning off the blood and dirt that caked the man’s skin from battle. He then began to gently use the rag to wash his hair. Even with as dirty as it was at that moment it was still smooth to the touch. Yao’s hair had always been like fine silk ever since Kiku could remember. He gently ran his hand through the hair to make sure the dark locks were free of any dried blood.
The gentle hand in his hair was almost therapeutic, lulling Yao into a more relaxed state with a sigh. His eyes closed at the touch.
Kiku felt his cheeks heat up at the sight but didn’t comment. He released the locks to move the rag to Yao’s face, making sure to clean that nasty cut on his cheek.
Yao’s eyes opened just enough to look at the other.
Kiku met his eyes for a moment. He realized then how close they were. Their faces only an inch or so apart. He was suddenly overcome with a feeling of embarrassment as he moved back and his face grew heated again. He broke the other’s gaze to return the rag to the bowl. He noticed how the once clean, clear water was now a murky dark color from where he continued to clean off the rag.
Kiku moved to the first aid kit to grab the gauze. He gently put a hand on Yao’s shoulder to move thair positions so it was easier to maneuver. He paused when he noticed color on Yao’s back. Red? Was there more blood? He moved the other so he could see better, earning a call of protest from Yao. But that didn’t stop Kiku from seeing it.
There, across Yao’s back, was a large tattoo of a dragon. It was white with golden accents across it. Behind the dragon was a bright red circle. A sun. A Japanese sun. Following the line of the dragon, Kiku noticed it was positioned with its mouth open. Along the mouth, almost set to look as if it were in the dragon’s mouth, was a scar. It was old and had been on Yao’s back for quite some time. But Kiku didn’t need to ask where it had come from. Kiku knew all too well that this scar had come from his very blade.
For nations, wounds rarely lasted. They had all been bruised, shot, burned, beheaded, anything and everything to hurt or kill them. But some scars, those that were special or important, they never faded.
Kiku gently put his hand on the dragon’s head. He suddenly felt how tense Yao was under his fingers. Kiku had never seen this. He didn’t know it was here. But he knew the importance of such a mark. The honor such a symbol beared. Was that what this was? Kiku ran his fingers softly from the head on the dragon down his maw and then let them follow the scared skin. A way to honor the scar that Kiku had inflicted upon him in a moment of forced, dazed violence? He could feel the way Yao relaxed under his touch. But why? Why did Yao honor a wound that only brought Kiku shame?
Softly, Kiku rested his forehead to Yao’s upper back. “I did not know this was here.”
“I know,” came the whispered reply. Almost too soft to hear over the light of the candles.
“I caused this scar.”
“I know.”
Kiku rested his hands on the back of Yao’s hips. “I hurt you.”
There was a pause. If Kiku hadn’t been listening for it he would have missed the soft, broken, “I know.”
“Yao,” he whispered. “I’m s—”
“Don’t.”
Kiku’s head snapped up at that. He looked at the back of Yao’s head with wide, confused eyes.
“If we all sat around apologizing for every little injury our governments forced us to inflict on one another,” Yao turned his head to look at Kiku from the side, “, the world would lose its voice before we could even finish speaking.”
Kiku wasn’t sure he fully understood what Yao meant. But before Kiku could even have a moment to contemplate the words, much less reply, Yao continued.
“Besides,” he added and smiled, “I already forgave you years ago.”
Kiku’s confused expression softened. He let go of the other and sat up again, moving to start rebandaging Yao’s chest.
“I do not regret leaving,” Kiku spoke up after a moment. “I only regret how it all happened.”
Yao let out a hum, content, and soft. He let a gentle silence drift between them as Kiku finished tying up his bandage and moved to his head. “I know,” he finally replied.
When Kiku finished the bandage on his head, Yao moved to turn back around and face the younger. He took Kiku’s cheek in one of his hands. The touch so soft and light as if Yao were afraid to scare Kiku away. He smiled at Kiku. His eyes filled with so many different conflicting emotions that Kiku wasn’t sure he fully understood. Distance, sorrow, love, pride.
“I cannot lie and say I was not saddened when you left me. But you have grown and become amazing just as you are, Nihon. You could not have done that in my home.”
Both of them were old nations, of course, Yao being much older. Both had seen the good times and the bad. They both had seen the joy and sorrows of their people. Both witnessing the achievements and also the mistakes of their governments. Maybe the world wasn’t in the best shape. Maybe times were tough. But despite their governments and their bosses, despite the conflicts and fights, it was their people, their culture they were proud of. The very culture that was strong enough, powerful enough within the hearts of their people, to spark life and bring these strange beings into creation. That was the pride of being a nation. And with that pride came a hope for the future. Hope for a better world for those very people who made, loved, and continued those cultures.
Kiku could feel a tear fall from his eye. He quickly moved to wipe it away before smiling up at Yao.
“Arigato, Zhōngguó.”