Like Child's Play

Four thousand years is a long time to live, even for a nation. In his time, China had seen many others rise to greatness and then crumble into ashes. Some grew quickly and took others under their wing. Others meandered in their adolescence for centuries. In those years, China had fought against many, clinging desperately to his own way of doing things. But, he had also learned that your greatest enemy can be your greatest friend. No fight ever lasts forever, even if it may feel like it. A nation's history changes with its people.

So it was that he found himself enjoying the afternoon with Hong Kong, having resolved their differences for the time being. They were discussing the possibilities in removing England's curse from Hong Kong over tea, when a loud bang resounded through the courtyard.

"Damn it, you red bastard! I know you're here! If you think you commies can get together and plot against me behind my back, you have another thing coming!"

And then there was America. Barely a few hundred years old, he'd missed most of the age of invasions and wars. Detached from the rest of the world; perhaps in more ways than one, America was the epitome of youth and naivete. Of course, he wasn't the youngest country in the world, and he wasn't entirely immature, either. But, China had noticed, the years and wars had done nothing to dampen the youthful enthusiasm with which he engaged the world, for better or for worse.

"Ah-ha-…huh…?" China turned his head slightly as he sipped his tea, watching America whirl back and forth, looking around in confusion as he walked into the courtyard.

"If you are looking for Russia, he is not here. I wish you would stop bringing your squabbling here, aru. I thought the Cold War was long over?"

America huffed as he walked over. "We're not squabbling. He's just waiting for me to let my guard down. This whole federation thing is just him trying to pull the wool over my eyes; just like he did with that stupid smile all the time. Russia is cracked in the head and can't be trusted."

China raised a brow as Hong Kong poured another cup of tea, and opened the steamer, offering out the shu mai inside to America. "So you think that he came here? How rude of you, aru." He watched America flush as he caught the underlying statement; how rude of you to ask for money and accuse me of that. Yes, China had come to America's aide when the economy crashed. And, yes, he would eventually ask him to return the favor. That was how the world worked. He wasn't going to hold it over America's head in any serious manner. Despite being young, he knew that America was good for it. Maybe the money wouldn't be paid back directly in cash, but in man power; help during a disaster; support when he needed it. Only time would tell.

"Anyway! How've you been?" America took a sip of the tea and cringed. "How do you drink this stuff? It tastes like grass!"

China smirked as he took another sip of his own. "It's an acquired taste. You should drink more, America. It would do wonders for you, aru." America huffed and shoved one of the shu mai in his mouth. Before China could comment any further, footsteps approached them quietly from behind.

"Ah, America, how unsurprising to see you here. Have you come to ask for more money? Perhaps I could find some to lend you." America glared and China sighed. Someday the two would tire of this charade. He just didn't know when. America's hand slammed on the table, upsetting the china and straining the wood as he stood.

"I knew that you would be here! And what are you plotting this time, huh? Sharing weapon information? Exchanging secrets?" China shook his head and poured himself another cup as Hong Kong quietly ate his shu mai. There wasn't much that fazed the boy, was there?

Russia's smile held a veneer of danger beneath it. "I was merely coming to discuss China's recent renewal of military ties with your country."

China set down his mug, looking at the two uninvited guests. They were like children, honestly. The way they chased after each other, he could just imagine the toy guns in their hands, orange capped with loud popping at each release of the trigger. More often than not, it reminded China of a young boy shoving around the girl he liked, because he didn't know how to show his affection for her.

As he watched America and Russia bicker over the table, unable to realize that they were constantly on each others' minds, he took solace in knowing that this, too, would pass. Someday, there would be no more fighting. After all, China was the center of the world and all the nations would have to set aside their differences to pay tribute to him again or be quashed. It was just a matter of time.

And he had all the time in the world.