❝i swear to the stars i'll burn this whole city down❞
Title: The Flower of the Dawn - Irreconcilable Differences
Series: Axis Powers Hetalia
Words: 1,500~
Characters: Taiwan ; Vietnam ; France ; Japan ; China ; America and various others. (China/Taiwan, Vietnam/France, with hints of America/Taiwan, Vietnam/America, China/Russia, ect.)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Eventually violence, language, and sexual situations.
Summary: As World War II draws to a close, the world begins to shift. Vietnam breaks her ties with France, only to be overcome by an enemy she hadn’t expected-herself. Taiwan is forced to chose between her family and her convictions as China’s Communist Revolution occurs. As the two Asian sisters struggle together and apart, communism, the United Nations, and the men in their lives threaten to either destroy them, or save them.
Past Chapters: Prologue : Ignoble Memories
The Flower of the Dawn
Chapter One : Irreconcilable Differences
---
June 17, 1946
Though she had been home-Taiwan thought the word with an ironic lilt-for almost a year, now, China’s house still didn’t seem familiar to her. When she woke up each morning, she expected to smell cherry blossoms, and when the scent of peonies and orchids drifted into her window, instead, she felt as though she was going to cry.
If she was truly honest with herself, Taiwan would admit that her life had not changed, much, since Japan had returned her to China’s care. But that didn’t mean that she could explain the horrid ache in her chest every time she looked into China’s eyes, every time he gave her that empty smile.
There was a low knock at the door, and Taiwan, who had been sitting by the window, glanced up in surprise.
It was China. “Mei-mei, I’m coming in, aru.”
Taiwan crinkled her nose at her old nickname, so different sounding from imouto. There had been a time when it was her favorite thing was to hear her name on China’s lips; now it only seemed to bring up uncomfortable memories.
He entered, dressed in red-he’d been wearing that color more and more often since Taiwan had been home. She looked up at him blandly, raising one eyebrow in question.
“Yes?”
He stood, gazing at her, for one long moment. China’s wide brow and deep-set eyes were mirrors of Taiwan’s own features, but her face was decidedly more delicate than his: her pointed chin and shell-pink lips were the cause of that.
“Why aren’t you happy, Taiwan?”
She had been expecting him to ask her what she wanted for dinner, or where Hong Kong was. This question, though, had her taken aback. She bit her lip and shook her head, not sure how to respond.
“I’m not unhappy,” she said by way of explanation.
He shook his head, in turn. “That’s not what I was asking, aru.”
She couldn’t look him in the eye. She knew that she was being ungrateful; China was giving her an unprecedented amount of freedom, now, and treating her well. It wasn’t his fault that Japan had lost the war, and she certainly had no reason to be unhappy.
In her moment of indecision, China crossed the room and placed one of his hands slowly against her petal-soft cheek. His lips touched hers for the barest of moments, feeling more insubstantial than a whispered promise.
“You used to be happy here,” he murmured.
And he was right. She remembered her childhood days, running around the gardens with Hong Kong, turning back every few moments to make sure China was watching. She recalled growing into a woman, and glancing at China with a different look in her eyes. And she remembered…
She reached up, slowly, and brought his head down to meet hers. Just as she had once, long ago, she kissed him, not with the affection of a little sister, but with the passion of a woman. It was a close-lipped, chaste kiss, but there was nothing innocent about the emotion behind it.
After a moment, she broke away from China and turned around.
“It’s not the same,” she said in a hollow voice.
He turned and left the room.
---
November 23, 1946
Vietnam awoke to the sound of bombs dropping on Saigon.
She leapt out of bed, grabbed her rifle and slung it over her shoulder, and then raced outside to go defend her people. Before she could make it to the front lines, however, a hand grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back.
Half-asleep and caught in nightmares, Vietnam had pointed the gun at man’s temple before she even realized who he was.
“Going to shoot me, Vi?” France, damn him, was laughing at her, that horribly lazy smirk on his lips. He held up his hands in mock surrender. “I come in…peace?”
Furious, Vietnam did not lower the gun. She pushed in further against France’s pale skin, her grip trembling as she felt the blast of the bombs ripping through her body.
“Bastard,” she muttered, wincing in pain.
Perfectly at-ease with a gun to his head, France chuckled. “I wouldn’t know; you’d have to ask my grandfather to verify that.”
“You speak of peace, and yet you’re killing my people,” she spat, ignoring his humor. Her eyes were dangerously narrowed; with her bare feet and loose hair, she appeared almost comical holding a gun.
“You’re so greedy,” France murmured with a sigh. “You keep going on about your people, and yet you seem to have forgotten that most of them speak French.”
“Language doesn’t make a nation.”
“So you wouldn’t mind if they all forgot Vietnamese?”
“Don’t twist my words, France.”
He sighed again, lackadaisically, and she knew that, once again, he was failing to take her seriously. Resentment burned within her, and yet she found herself lowering the rifle, and letting it drop to the ground before her.
“I gave you a chance for peace,” he reminded her. “I wanted to keep things the way they’d always been-with the two of us, together. How could that have been wrong?”
He made it sound so simple-the two of them, together. Vietnam reached out to touch his hand, wondering if it still felt the same way it had two decades ago.
It did. Soft as rose petals and strong as steel, France’s hand closed around Vietnam’s the instant she made contact. He raised her hand slowly to his lips, kissing her lightly across her bruised knuckles. His touch was like fire and ice; Vietnam wrenched her hand away and took two steps back.
“It isn’t that simple, anymore!” she cried. “You say that we can just be together again, but we can’t. Things have changed, and I can’t just be your colony, anymore!”
“I’ll remind you that the bombs are falling, and your people are not winning.”
“We’re strong,” she insisted, picking up the rifle. “You say you can just force us to submit, but you can’t. We’ll beat you.” She turned and walked away, her long hair blowing out behind her like a victory banner.
---
February 27, 1947
It began with a simple dispute between a cigarette vendor and a government officer. It ended…in this.
The racket was so loud that Taiwan couldn’t hear what anyone was saying. Thousands of her people had taken to the streets, and they were all screaming, calling for revolution. As she tried to make her way though, they called out to her, tugged on her hands and sleeves.
“You agree with us, don’t you?”
“We don’t need some other country telling us what to do!”
“The Taiwanese people can take care of themselves!”
She clapped her hands to her ears, trying to drown out the noise, but it was impossible. Part of her wanted to join them-to throw off China’s shackles and riot in the streets, demanding justice. But there was another, equally strong part of her that thought that what her people were doing was crazy. All she knew for certain was that this could not end well. She fell to her knees and covered her face in her hands.
“Taiwan-what’s going on here, aru?”
She raised her head, achingly, to look at the one person that she most emphatically did not want to see. China’s face was bland and opaque, but, from simply looking at her elder brother’s eyes, Taiwan knew that he was livid.
“Gege-I-”
He gave her no time to respond. China grabbed her hand and hoisted her to her feet, which Taiwan would have taken as a kind gesture had it not been for the rough manner in which he’d done it. She glanced at him in surprise, but his mouth was set into a thin line, and he looked at her in disapproval.
“Was this your idea, aru?”
“No-yes-maybe-but, Gege-”
“I asked you if you were unhappy, aru-you never said that you wanted this.”
“I don’t-I didn’t think that I did!”
“Which is it, Taiwan?”
“I don’t know!”
China shook his head, slowly. Suddenly, he was behind her, holding both of her hands firmly behind her back.
“This is why you need me, aru.” He said slowly, leading her away from the crowds. Panicked, Taiwan tried to fight him off, but his grip held firm. “You don’t know your own mind.”
It was then that she saw the troops.
“Gege, no-what are you going?”
He didn’t respond as the shots began to fire, nor as Taiwan let out an ear-splitting shriek as her people fell to the ground. China’s face retained its grim expression even as the soldiers finished their work and turned away. Taiwan sunk to the ground, again, her arms lifted behind her as China kept hold of her wrists. Two tears, like pearls, dripped down her cheeks.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she whispered.
“…you didn’t need to riot against me, aru,” he said, equally soft. He picked her up in his arms and handed her to one of his soldiers. “We’re going home.”
---
Footnotes:
*Gege means “elder brother.” Imouto and Mei-mei are both terms for “younger sister.”
*November 23, 1946 -- the beginning of the First Indochina War. The French fleet began a naval bombardment of the city that killed over 6,000 Vietnamese civilians in an afternoon according to one source or over 2000 according to another. The Viet Minh quickly agreed to a cease-fire and left the cities. There was no intention among the Vietnamese to give up though, and General Vo Nguyen Giap soon brought up 30,000 men to attack the city.
*February 27, 1947 -- the 288 Incident, also known as the 288 Massacre. An anti-government uprising in Taiwan that began on February 27, 1947 and was violently suppressed by the Chinese government. Estimates of the number of deaths vary from ten thousand to thirty thousand or more.
Series: Axis Powers Hetalia
Words: 1,500~
Characters: Taiwan ; Vietnam ; France ; Japan ; China ; America and various others. (China/Taiwan, Vietnam/France, with hints of America/Taiwan, Vietnam/America, China/Russia, ect.)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Eventually violence, language, and sexual situations.
Summary: As World War II draws to a close, the world begins to shift. Vietnam breaks her ties with France, only to be overcome by an enemy she hadn’t expected-herself. Taiwan is forced to chose between her family and her convictions as China’s Communist Revolution occurs. As the two Asian sisters struggle together and apart, communism, the United Nations, and the men in their lives threaten to either destroy them, or save them.
Past Chapters: Prologue : Ignoble Memories
The Flower of the Dawn
Chapter One : Irreconcilable Differences
---
June 17, 1946
Though she had been home-Taiwan thought the word with an ironic lilt-for almost a year, now, China’s house still didn’t seem familiar to her. When she woke up each morning, she expected to smell cherry blossoms, and when the scent of peonies and orchids drifted into her window, instead, she felt as though she was going to cry.
If she was truly honest with herself, Taiwan would admit that her life had not changed, much, since Japan had returned her to China’s care. But that didn’t mean that she could explain the horrid ache in her chest every time she looked into China’s eyes, every time he gave her that empty smile.
There was a low knock at the door, and Taiwan, who had been sitting by the window, glanced up in surprise.
It was China. “Mei-mei, I’m coming in, aru.”
Taiwan crinkled her nose at her old nickname, so different sounding from imouto. There had been a time when it was her favorite thing was to hear her name on China’s lips; now it only seemed to bring up uncomfortable memories.
He entered, dressed in red-he’d been wearing that color more and more often since Taiwan had been home. She looked up at him blandly, raising one eyebrow in question.
“Yes?”
He stood, gazing at her, for one long moment. China’s wide brow and deep-set eyes were mirrors of Taiwan’s own features, but her face was decidedly more delicate than his: her pointed chin and shell-pink lips were the cause of that.
“Why aren’t you happy, Taiwan?”
She had been expecting him to ask her what she wanted for dinner, or where Hong Kong was. This question, though, had her taken aback. She bit her lip and shook her head, not sure how to respond.
“I’m not unhappy,” she said by way of explanation.
He shook his head, in turn. “That’s not what I was asking, aru.”
She couldn’t look him in the eye. She knew that she was being ungrateful; China was giving her an unprecedented amount of freedom, now, and treating her well. It wasn’t his fault that Japan had lost the war, and she certainly had no reason to be unhappy.
In her moment of indecision, China crossed the room and placed one of his hands slowly against her petal-soft cheek. His lips touched hers for the barest of moments, feeling more insubstantial than a whispered promise.
“You used to be happy here,” he murmured.
And he was right. She remembered her childhood days, running around the gardens with Hong Kong, turning back every few moments to make sure China was watching. She recalled growing into a woman, and glancing at China with a different look in her eyes. And she remembered…
She reached up, slowly, and brought his head down to meet hers. Just as she had once, long ago, she kissed him, not with the affection of a little sister, but with the passion of a woman. It was a close-lipped, chaste kiss, but there was nothing innocent about the emotion behind it.
After a moment, she broke away from China and turned around.
“It’s not the same,” she said in a hollow voice.
He turned and left the room.
---
November 23, 1946
Vietnam awoke to the sound of bombs dropping on Saigon.
She leapt out of bed, grabbed her rifle and slung it over her shoulder, and then raced outside to go defend her people. Before she could make it to the front lines, however, a hand grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back.
Half-asleep and caught in nightmares, Vietnam had pointed the gun at man’s temple before she even realized who he was.
“Going to shoot me, Vi?” France, damn him, was laughing at her, that horribly lazy smirk on his lips. He held up his hands in mock surrender. “I come in…peace?”
Furious, Vietnam did not lower the gun. She pushed in further against France’s pale skin, her grip trembling as she felt the blast of the bombs ripping through her body.
“Bastard,” she muttered, wincing in pain.
Perfectly at-ease with a gun to his head, France chuckled. “I wouldn’t know; you’d have to ask my grandfather to verify that.”
“You speak of peace, and yet you’re killing my people,” she spat, ignoring his humor. Her eyes were dangerously narrowed; with her bare feet and loose hair, she appeared almost comical holding a gun.
“You’re so greedy,” France murmured with a sigh. “You keep going on about your people, and yet you seem to have forgotten that most of them speak French.”
“Language doesn’t make a nation.”
“So you wouldn’t mind if they all forgot Vietnamese?”
“Don’t twist my words, France.”
He sighed again, lackadaisically, and she knew that, once again, he was failing to take her seriously. Resentment burned within her, and yet she found herself lowering the rifle, and letting it drop to the ground before her.
“I gave you a chance for peace,” he reminded her. “I wanted to keep things the way they’d always been-with the two of us, together. How could that have been wrong?”
He made it sound so simple-the two of them, together. Vietnam reached out to touch his hand, wondering if it still felt the same way it had two decades ago.
It did. Soft as rose petals and strong as steel, France’s hand closed around Vietnam’s the instant she made contact. He raised her hand slowly to his lips, kissing her lightly across her bruised knuckles. His touch was like fire and ice; Vietnam wrenched her hand away and took two steps back.
“It isn’t that simple, anymore!” she cried. “You say that we can just be together again, but we can’t. Things have changed, and I can’t just be your colony, anymore!”
“I’ll remind you that the bombs are falling, and your people are not winning.”
“We’re strong,” she insisted, picking up the rifle. “You say you can just force us to submit, but you can’t. We’ll beat you.” She turned and walked away, her long hair blowing out behind her like a victory banner.
---
February 27, 1947
It began with a simple dispute between a cigarette vendor and a government officer. It ended…in this.
The racket was so loud that Taiwan couldn’t hear what anyone was saying. Thousands of her people had taken to the streets, and they were all screaming, calling for revolution. As she tried to make her way though, they called out to her, tugged on her hands and sleeves.
“You agree with us, don’t you?”
“We don’t need some other country telling us what to do!”
“The Taiwanese people can take care of themselves!”
She clapped her hands to her ears, trying to drown out the noise, but it was impossible. Part of her wanted to join them-to throw off China’s shackles and riot in the streets, demanding justice. But there was another, equally strong part of her that thought that what her people were doing was crazy. All she knew for certain was that this could not end well. She fell to her knees and covered her face in her hands.
“Taiwan-what’s going on here, aru?”
She raised her head, achingly, to look at the one person that she most emphatically did not want to see. China’s face was bland and opaque, but, from simply looking at her elder brother’s eyes, Taiwan knew that he was livid.
“Gege-I-”
He gave her no time to respond. China grabbed her hand and hoisted her to her feet, which Taiwan would have taken as a kind gesture had it not been for the rough manner in which he’d done it. She glanced at him in surprise, but his mouth was set into a thin line, and he looked at her in disapproval.
“Was this your idea, aru?”
“No-yes-maybe-but, Gege-”
“I asked you if you were unhappy, aru-you never said that you wanted this.”
“I don’t-I didn’t think that I did!”
“Which is it, Taiwan?”
“I don’t know!”
China shook his head, slowly. Suddenly, he was behind her, holding both of her hands firmly behind her back.
“This is why you need me, aru.” He said slowly, leading her away from the crowds. Panicked, Taiwan tried to fight him off, but his grip held firm. “You don’t know your own mind.”
It was then that she saw the troops.
“Gege, no-what are you going?”
He didn’t respond as the shots began to fire, nor as Taiwan let out an ear-splitting shriek as her people fell to the ground. China’s face retained its grim expression even as the soldiers finished their work and turned away. Taiwan sunk to the ground, again, her arms lifted behind her as China kept hold of her wrists. Two tears, like pearls, dripped down her cheeks.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she whispered.
“…you didn’t need to riot against me, aru,” he said, equally soft. He picked her up in his arms and handed her to one of his soldiers. “We’re going home.”
---
Footnotes:
*Gege means “elder brother.” Imouto and Mei-mei are both terms for “younger sister.”
*November 23, 1946 -- the beginning of the First Indochina War. The French fleet began a naval bombardment of the city that killed over 6,000 Vietnamese civilians in an afternoon according to one source or over 2000 according to another. The Viet Minh quickly agreed to a cease-fire and left the cities. There was no intention among the Vietnamese to give up though, and General Vo Nguyen Giap soon brought up 30,000 men to attack the city.
*February 27, 1947 -- the 288 Incident, also known as the 288 Massacre. An anti-government uprising in Taiwan that began on February 27, 1947 and was violently suppressed by the Chinese government. Estimates of the number of deaths vary from ten thousand to thirty thousand or more.