London was immersed in fog when Japan departed the plane. He arrived a day early, but jet-lagged was not the intended state to meet Arthur in. Arthur would not deem it appropriate to meet him in such condition and so neither did Kiku find weariness a state worthy to meet the English Empire.
The English Empire; Japan remembered when he'd first heard that name for Arthur. The smile that graced his face had not reached the abyss of his dark eyes. The name brought acid to his mouth and a flutter to his stomach, but who was he to judge the pride of the West? It was not as if the great United Kingdom had the name to mock Japan's memories. Yet it was not if Japan felt unscorned. The simple name left his raw as it reminded him of a headstrong nation whose confidence had once amazed. How young Kiku had been then. How innocent.
Fortunately, he was no long naive. He'd tasted defeat, desire, and domination since then. Kiku knew heartbreak as well as he did hate and what he hated was that even now he felt nervous at seeing the arrogant Englishmen once more, but he would be civil. Arthur had chosen to be an ally to himself and the rest of the Axis. How noble a position; how very fortunate for the European and yet…This right decision did not fix the hurt and and betrayal he'd caused the Japanese nation centuries before.
He would keep his manners, though. He had told himself this as he'd departed the plane, again as he settled into the over opulent hotel room he'd been provided, and once more now as he sat on the plush sofa in Arthur's office. Steam rose from the tea set placed before him. The white china was decorated with blue florals, but Kiku had not touched it or the "biscuits" that had been provided for him. Instead he sat casually, one leg over the other, dressed head to toe in his black uniform with gold eaglets and medals. His dark, honey eyes held the look of disinterest but his attention couldn't be focused.
He awareness was taking in everything in the room and though his face showed none of it, he was amused. The bookshelves, the dark desk, and the colors. It looked comfortable and inviting. What a farse. He tipped his fingers on the hilt of his decorative sword and looked at the door.
Fashionably late as usual. Yet he didn't mind the wait; perhaps that was one thing that had never changed. He was early and Arthur loved to make him wait. Then again with the end of the war there were plenty of responsibilities that had been borne to the European nation. Maybe Arthur was even worried since Kiku had specifically stated his coming was about the terroritory of Hong Kong, his sibling and the joint child of China and Britain.
He chuckled softly, but it was gone the moment the door opened. Japan lifted his head and his eyes lit on England.
"If nothing else can be said…I must say age has done you well. I do miss the red, though…you were so dashing," he grinned. "Though, other things have changed as well since we've first met..." Britain was not the strong nation he'd once been in Japan's eyes. Did losing Canada make him feel ripped in two?
Great Britain was a prideful empire, and before that he was a brash youth who lived for pleasure and power; he wore bright and garish colors lined with gold during his privateering years three centuries prior to incite a variety of reactions. It was an emblem of his youth and impulsivity; the definition of a young man with too much power at his fingertips. And as such, he was careless with the hearts he toyed with in the process. Just as Kiku had been young during their first encounter with each other, so was Arthur: impetuous, desirous, and conceited. And although he’d calmed somewhat presently, in the few centuries that followed, he was still very much that same creature, just now a little more held in reserve, poised, and patient.
Arthur had been tense since Kiku’s stated inquiry for his arrival concerned the territory of Hong Kong, a child that was still in Arthur’s care, his child that he would continue to protect with the fierceness of any parent safeguarding their precious progeny. He had been a little more attentive than usual with Hong Kong that morning, ruffling his dark hair as he passed him getting ready for the day, the child who had just passed his hip in his most recent growth spurt. He’d prepared him his favorite milk tea, sweetened warmed milk with a bit of earl grey, before leaving for the meeting with Kiku.
For the reason of wanting to keep his household, and Hong Kong by proxy, separate from the proceedings, Arthur arranged to meet with Kiku in his formal office in the heart of London, a discrete building on a separate part of the city from his personal manor where his other and more informal office resided. It was more the commute through the busy streets and righting himself once he arrived at his office building that credited for his lateness than any smug desire to keep Kiku waiting, though he knew that the other would likely come to his own conclusions on the matter. He’d already instructed his office secretary and other staff to open up the area and provide hot tea for their guest. Though he’d also instructed for one of the lesser favorite office sets to be utilized, not quite sure of the mood that Kiku would be in or the safety of anything in the office.
Arthur had experienced wilder office meetings, so he knew that he would have the privacy befitting of important meetings in that location. For today, he’d worn fashionable, but still business appropriate attire, with the sleek charcoal finish of his trousers and coat. Beneath was the iron pressed buttoned collared shirt with the dark waistcoat, a silk tie peeking from beneath. Arthur was still fond of showing just a hint of red on his person, an unspoken expression of national pride, for red had always been his patriotic color displayed on the first English flag. For now, there was a hint of crimson silk emerging from the pocket of his dark-washed waistcoat. He was quick to remove his narrow-brimmed trilby hat upon arrival, messing his already mused hair slightly, as well as hanging his coat. While his style had certainly changed over the years, Arthur never really lost his personal flair for fashion, London being one of the proclaimed capitals of such in the world. And as such, it would always remain a part of him.
His eyes grazed over Kiku sitting at his office sofa, elegantly dressed and situated as ever. The sight was nostalgic for him, though it was wracked with many other emotions and internal reactions as well. Their history was complicated in its own right, perhaps more so due to their personal entanglements. And Arthur could hear it in Kiku’s voice when he greeted him in that nontraditional way. Arthur’s lips curved slightly at that, moving so that he was situated close and in plain view from where Kiku was sitting, leaning his hips back comfortably against the dark wood of his desk.
”I can say the same for you. Although, I daresay, you’ve hardly faded in your own. Lovely as ever.” Arthur had decided to forego the tea, and had given himself just a small portion of sweet scotch lining the bottom of his tumbler. He offered Kiku the same in a polite manner, raising the bottle slightly before setting it back down in its designated place. ”Indeed… Quite a bit has transpired in the few centuries since then.” He raised his eyes toward Kiku, a wordless dare and invitation to divulge more on that topic. ”We have much to discuss.”
Japanese etiquette stated that a guest was to stand and bow when greeting the host, but Kiku had remained sitting one thigh balanced atop the knee of the opposite leg. Most would consider this rude or a social faux pas, but it was actual his way of recognizing his and Arthur's personal past. He could greet him with such familiarity because he was Arthur and also because he was Western and ceremony was not as impressed upon here. Had he been younger by a century or two he would have been hard pressed to use proper etiquette, but he wasn't. Japan had reopened his nation and he was not the shy nation Arthur had so bewitched before.
He wasn't that nation and so at Arthur's return of his compliment, his cheeks did not flush as they may have had he been called lovely those centuries ago. His lips instead stretched up and his eyes seemed to brighten. Mischief played in those ponds of honey as he uncrossed his legs and stood.
"Hmm, lovely am I," he thought aloud. He picked up one of the tea cakes delicately and brought it to his mouth. He took it nimbly with one bite and after he swallowed he returned to speaking. "Lovely…You Europeans have always thought so." He chuckled and shook his head when Arthur offered him the scotch. Instead he licked crumbles from his fingers careless now of manner, though the movements were still gentle. Japan wanted to make everything look effortless be it a battle of swords or simply eating. Very thing could be a dance to him. Words and actions and every one planned.
His footsteps were almost silent as he crossed to stand before England. "I had thought of bringing some of my best rice wine for you to enjoy, but did not wish for the gesture to be taken poorly. I simply remember how much you enjoyed those from my personal garden. I did bring a bottle, but did not think it right to bring it now." He inclined his head and lifted his hand. It took the glass from Britain and set it aside on the desk. "Before I take my leave to return to my home perhaps I will have it sent to you." He took the red handkerchief from Arthur's pocket.
It was stiff, yet pliable and that shade of crimson that he remembered Arthur had worn. The gold and ruffles the younger looking recalled could have made him laugh in nostalgia, but instead he simply opened the pocket square before he began to fold it.
It took only seconds for the handkerchief to morph into the shape of an orgami crane. Kiku held it up and kissed its beak before pressing the same spot gently to Arthur's lips. "Tell me, Arthur…what would you like to discuss first? How your agreements with Germany are going? Or the curiosity I have?" He smirked and brought the folded crane back. He pet it lovingly, but his hungry gaze stayed on Britain.
"How can a father so staunchly protect one child and yet throw the other to a wolf? How tightly you cling to little Leon and yet I have only to look across the ocean…You abandoned Matthew...did nothing as he shivered in the cold and cried for you." Kiku turned and placed the crane on a bookshelf and hummed thoughtfully. "How desperately do you think he hoped for you? I bet the moment he realized you were not coming was breathtaking."
Arthur was aware of Kiku’s etiquette when it came to greeting others, and on his end, he didn’t mind that it wasn’t used. That was up to Kiku’s personal desire with regard to his upbringing and cultural adherence. He did, indeed, used to shower Kiku with such words, words that were pressed against his skin in the middle of intimacy. Pretty, soft, and sometimes lewd words that matched the way that he used to touch him. Each various compliment brought with it a certain memory of heat, the press of his fingers, a teasing of a sensitive part of his body. Everything had context. And everything had a purpose.
His eyes regarded Kiku carefully as he responded to Arthur's compliment of politeness and perhaps one of nostalgia. The corner of his mouth raised at Kiku's words, a very slightly bitter movement. It brought back his own recollections from his very timeworn past, back when he preferred to be off on his own, but instead, the pesky Europeans wouldn’t stop breaching his shores, particularly France, eventually forcing him into the fold where Arthur fought violently every step of the way. The start of a very long rivalry.
Island nations seemed to have that mentality more so than others. But, that was the reason why Arthur never truly considered himself European, he was British. And perhaps one day, he’d draw himself away from the fold for good, once and for all. But, for the most part, he’d stopped correcting others whenever they called him such. At times, a hint of disdain for it would cross his gaze whenever someone called him European. ”Desirability is hardly desirable for our kind,” he responded in kind, a neutral tone, taking another sip of his scotch and drawing his attention away from the past and back onto Kiku.
He'd thought the entire exchange regarding the rice wine interesting, but he didn’t give it any more credence than he really thought necessary. ”How very thoughtful of you,” Arthur responded, because it was polite. He loosened his grip when Kiku took the glass from him, setting it aside upon the desk. And he allowed Kiku to take the bit of red that he carried on his person, watched how he manipulated the fabric, the action rather familiar. Although, they had been familiar in the past, so such boundaries always seemed to blur and meld between each other. The green of his gaze was upon Kiku, guarded, when he pressed the bit of cloth against Arthur’s mouth before asking him where he would like to start off. He almost wanted to show his amusement when Kiku’s first inquiry of interest was Germany. Oh how curious he seemed, how very curious. But he didn’t entertain Kiku’s inquisitiveness; he kept his stony expression instead. ”I’d prefer to discuss the reason for why I requested your presence here.”
Which Kiku seemed very keen on bringing up at the moment, so he allowed him. Arthur's expression remained unchanged with Kiku’s words, and he couldn’t help but wonder over how little Kiku knew of him to attempt to taunt him in that manner, and completely miss his aim. If he meant to cause him discomfort over bringing up Canada, then perhaps he should reassess how exactly to go about it. Still, Arthur responded to him in kind, as if commenting on the dreary weather they were having. ”How, indeed. An answer that I would give to those who would need to hear it the most. I’m afraid that, currently, they’re not in this room.” A somewhat critical, disapproving sidelong glance toward Kiku. ”You do seem quite captivated over his pain. Perhaps a personal assessment and observation would be better suited for your curiosity.” Again, using that same flat tone. He didn’t think it appropriate to be discussing this with someone who hardly had anything to do with the situation, so he remained dismissive of Kiku’s attempts to bring it into the conversation.
”You did bring up one point; however, that is most appropriate for today’s visit. Leon.” The smallest hint of something tender, but also something fierce touched his chest whenever he mentioned him, but he kept himself in check, preferring to keep this meeting more about business and agreements. Arrangements, however personal, if need be...
Kiku did not mind as Arthur scolded him. What else could those words be called than discipline. It was the disapproval that clawed at his insides; the look in Arthur's eyes as if he was something other, that disappointment. It made his chest hot and for perhaps the first time in what felt ages that heat ascended and made his cheeks blossom. It was not the shyness of love, though. It was embarrassment and ire. His lips fell immediately from their grin.
His mouth thinned and for a moment his gaze hardened before it was all gone. Gone because his mouth softened and his eyes finally broke contact with Arthur's. He dropped his gaze to the floor and tapped his fingers over the hilt of his sword.
This wasn't the so headstrong British nation. Not the immature one he'd been so attached to.
"Gomen," he finally said softly. He felt the sludge of shame cave his shoulders. "I am sorry, Arthur…I wanted to hurt you." He often found that feeling familiar, itching, ravenous. He wanted to cause Arthur pain because of a heartbreak that lasted even now. "Not that I am not curious as to what forced your hand to leave Canada to be taken by America." There was no accusation now in his voice, no mirth. "I saw his hurt…I can sympathize with it?" He pulled his eyes from the ground. "I have found little else but pain in the folds of my own family. Still…I was inappropriate. I apologize."
He disliked the guilt he felt. Why should he feel guilty for trying to pick at a scab? Was it because it didn't work or was it because he wanted Arthur impressed and not…dismissive of him? Regret. He wanted to take back his words and it disgusted him. He squeezed his hands in agitation.
Leon was the reason he was here. The child of China and Britain; Japan would have given him children and it left a sour taste in his mouth that he felt as if he had lost to his brother. That this man had chosen Yao over him. Yao!
In that moment, Kiku felt vulnerable. He wanted to demand to know why China? But he bit down on the urge and felt as if he tasted blood. "I've never met him…I wish to. I would like to meet Leon and hoped I could, that is the first reason for my coming. He is also in a delicate position wouldn't you agree so far from your own Empire? His nation is next to my dominion as I now hold China. You hold him dear and you are my ally and he is for purposes one of my own siblings...I wish to offer my aid to him if he ever needs it. Would you approve of that?"
Arthur’s expression softened just a hint, a little bit of thaw from the icy response that he’d given prior. He oftentimes felt that he couldn’t be anything less because of the consistent disapproval and demonization that he’d absorbed from essentially every one of the others most recently. Some of the tension left his shoulders when Kiku gave him an honest response, that he was, in fact, looking to hurt him. And Arthur perhaps wanted to return that show of honesty with a bit of his own.
”If I were to candidly respond to your curiosity without the pretenses of political correctness and courtesy: I received no pleasure in it… If I had more personal choice in the matter, if my hand weren’t forced by circumstance, and the fact that I was warring with an unreasonable, immature, and imprudent opponent who sought to breech my own borders, then perhaps I could have kept him.” Only a hint of softness, a very deep regret, surfaced beneath the usual stony expression that he wore, giving away that there was a substantial amount shifting and churning of various emotions beneath the surface. But it soon disappeared beneath the tide of duty. He couldn’t show his regret or any semblance of tenderness with anyone.
Arthur’s lips tightened briefly when Kiku mentioned being able to sympathize with his pain. Arthur was well aware that he was also once a foolish and wild young nation who happened to hurt quite a few in his path. ”Thank you for apologizing. It’s not an easy thing to say, so I respect you for your words.” A bit of a sigh, a rush of breath through his nostrils with the subtle reminder of the difficulties of family for their kind. ”The more decades that pass, the more I’m convinced that our sort perhaps shouldn’t even bother attempting to have a family, or any semblance of family. Because in the end, we are selfish beings, and by nature, we will always choose to save ourselves over someone that we share a kinship with. Countries will always put themselves first. And families were never meant to operate like that.”
Arthur moved to pour himself some of the offered tea. Milk first with only a bit of sugar. As he bent slightly to fix his cuppa, he noticed the way that Kiku had tightened his hands. He decided to take a seat across from Kiku, stirring his tea while his eyes grazed over him. His entire visage had softened somewhat, giving into a more casual posture as he listened to Kiku’s statements. However, his muscles stiffened slightly when Kiku expressed a desire to meet Leon. It was this reason that Arthur had left Leon behind in his personal manor. He wasn’t entirely sure of Kiku’s intensions, so he wanted to avoid any sort of accidental confrontation. He was guarding Leon like an agitated lion pacing its den when it had some idea that its young was potentially in danger of being threatened.
Arthur set his tea down, leaning slightly to the side of the chair, one leg crossing over the other, though his eyes never left Kiku’s, always that piercing and considering sort of look. ”He receives sufficient aid and care from me as it stands. However… as we are allies and he is kin to you as much as he is to me, then how aggreable would you be to a formal arrangement between the two of us? From what I'm understanding from your words, you’d seek to treat him respectfully on a personal level if I do grant my permission and approval for a meeting between the two of you. I'm also assuming, that in addition, you would respect my other territories, whatever is currently in my possession, and wouldn’t seek to disturb that delicate balance.” The corner of Arthur’s mouth curled very slightly. ”As an ally, then, would you be opposed to mending our relations, to usher in a different era of friendship? I would see this as a positive development. My understanding is that the two of us aren’t looking to expand our empires, and would perhaps prefer a time of peaceful armistice after such an extended amount of conflict for the past few decades. Although, correct me if my insinuations are less than accurate.” Arthur reached for his tea, tasting it, though his gaze remained trained on the other.
England beheld him with such a severe gaze. It was a resting gaze the other had learned over the centuries and decades. Kiku remembered when Arthur's expression had been less clinical and more bright. He'd been so carefree then; they both had. Centuries now had settled between them. It spanned the distance like a hungry maw that wanted nothing more than to separate them. Kiku stepped over it. He crossed the room with Arthur’s final words and circled around the table to take his own seat.
He settled right beside Arthur.
Etiquette would cite their familiarity for the reason Kiku breached the other’s personal space, and yes it was true. Yet Japan had chosen the place for more than just that. It all went unsaid, just as so far silence danced between them from the Asian nation. He’d responded to nothing Arthur had said; he was considering it very carefully within his mind—much more carefully than he’d breezed over words and insults in the beginning. Arthur deserved such reflection because Arthur was not his brothers and sisters; Arthur had felt the pains of family just as deep and bloody as he had. England knew what it was like to sacrifice your all to someone, only to have them slap you away as if you were nothing but a fly. Kiku had made a horrible mistake and with it he did something he had not in a long time. He let his shields down.
Pride flew away from his shoulders like thousands of butterflies and he relaxed his posture without their weight. His body became softer, his movements more fluid as he reached with a hesitation more reminiscent of his earlier interactions with Arthur than the fire he’d met him with this time. His eyes had left Britain’s as his hand covered the other’s. For a few moments he simply rested it there without another sign, but his metamorphosis was not complete yet. The lines of his face softened. When he looked back to Arthur his eyes were no longer harsh. They shone in sadness and vulnerability.
“Let it out, Arthur,” Kiku said softly, “worry not about political correctness or courtesy. Worry not whether I will find the scene distasteful. I will not. You feel as if you must, but you don’t…you don’t need to hide from me. I will not let your words leave our meeting, nor use them against you.” Any hate he’d held for the British Isles had evaporated over a century ago, and the vitriol he’d spewed mere moments ago? Redirected frustrations that Arthur did not deserve. “I know you are hurting. I know how the loss burns at your heart and I recognize…that you must feel shame at yourself for not being able to keep him. You love so much, I know how it eats at your heart like a dark corrosive. You don’t need to hide that from me, but I…I know why you have.” And it was all his fault. He pulled his hand back and once more let his gaze fall.
He was able to sympathize with not only Canada’s pain, but Arthur’s as well. To watch a nation you had held in your arms, helped grow, and harmed yourself for the progress of be ripped from your fingers ached. It throbbed like you were being torn in two, but to have that same nation then stare at you with such disgust that was a sharper pain. Canada had no idea, no way to know, and even if Arthur did tell him, would the other believe? Kiku’s fingers fisted in his lap. “I believe you wanted to keep him. I believe you tried your best.”
He took a breath and tried to reign in his emotions. It wasn’t because he wanted to protect himself, but because he wanted his words clear. He couldn’t let himself become overwhelmed. “I believe you are drowning in regret, but don’t say…don’t say that we are not meant to have family. Please do not say that, Arthur,” he unclasped a few buttons on his coat and opened it to the linen colored shirt he wore beneath it. When he looked up this time, he vowed to not take his eyes from Arthur’s again.
“I apologized because it was right thing to do. I hold no rage towards you. All the pain between us has come and passed. It is not you who has done me harm, but rather than direct it at a source more appropriate, I instead used it against you. I was wrong for that and so I have no choice but to apologize. It is easy to apologize when you realize the only way to move forward is to set pride at being mistaken aside…I was woefully mistaken.” He reached within his coat and pulled out a photograph. It was of himself and a burbling infant. It was sepia and distressed from much handling, but the image was unmistakable. “We are selfish, but I would never turn my back on a child of mine unless I was forced to. I could not forgive myself for such selfishness…I have been the victim of that for too long. I know what it feels like and I will not turn my back on my children the way China did to me.” He let the name fall from his lips and he did not regret it. He pressed the photo into Arthur’s hands. “You didn’t get to have a photo of Ken before the war. You can have this one, I can have more made…I can give you more of them too.” He smiled and his expression was fond. “He is still a baby. Beautiful and with your blond hair. I think he will have my eyes, though, but he is so cute and such a good child.”
Leon. They were here to speak of Leon, but to speak of Leon Japan suddenly felt this needed to be clear. He needed to lay all of this clear to Arthur. “I do not regret that he came into existence, he was the best gift you’ve ever given me…and I do not regret the time I spent with you that created him. I don’t regret any of the time we spent together.” He smiled and then pulled back, but left the photo. “Before this war began with Germany’s invasions and my own, you and I were in the process of mending our relations and setting aside the hurts two young nations caused to one another. You ask then if I would be open to continuing that, and my answer is yes. I have seen enough bloodshed and caused enough pain…I am tired of war. I have no interest in your other territories and even if I did, I would seek amicable resolutions.”
He ran his fingers through his raven hair. “I want peace with you, Arthur. I want friendship, and I want nothing more than to further give strength to Leon in order that China may never have him again. No child needs to experience Yao’s definition of love on his own. Leon is my nephew and I will treat him with the love and care I have Ken. With respect and encouragement. I do not doubt the aid you have given him, but I want to be there for him too…I want to protect him. Protect him from the venomous affectionate of China and watch him grow into his own power. All children deserve to try and fail and unfurl like beautiful flowers…We should only give guidance and nurturing, not distain.”
Arthur always felt like he needed to be in a constant state of severity with others, if only because he was rarely given any reason not to be. And a part of him did miss being a little more carefree and wild, with very few of the responsibilities that he held now as an empire. As much as others aspired to be great and powerful, having an empire really didn’t bring much happiness at all. But, regardless, Arthur was who he was at this point in time.
He didn’t mind that Kiku decided to sit next to him as opposed to sitting across from him. Arthur kept his careful attention on him, though he could feel the slight perspiration forming at the back of his neck when Kiku rested his hand over his and looked at him in that soft, exposed way that he used to look at him. Although his eyes fell away and heat touched his cheeks when he asked him to be a little more open with him, more or less in so many words. The harsh lines in Arthur’s expression smoothed over and he pressed his lips together briefly. ”You know that’s a lot easier said than done. I haven’t opened myself up to anyone like that for centuries. It’s not something that I can simply do upon request, as convenient as that would be.” He did look at Kiku, appreciating the sentiment that his words wouldn’t leave this meeting, even if he was having a difficult time accepting and believing that. It was always difficult to believe another nation when they promised confidentiality; more times than not, it was a promise made to be broken. Arthur had been at this game for too long, and old habits die hard.
Arthur did seem cautious with the way that Kiku offered his sympathies regarding Canada and the difficult decisions that needed to be made surrounding that incident. He chewed softly at his own lip, glancing down at the table. ”I appreciate your words. It’s a rare thing to hear these days.” And it was true. Arthur had very few friends, if any. Although the corner of his mouth rose slightly when Kiku told him to not say that their kind were ever meant to raise families. His eyes followed Kiku’s fingers when he unclasped the buttons on his coat, but quickly glanced at his own cup of tea to avert his attention. ”As of now, that’s something I believe. I’m just being honest…” he spoke softly, quietly as if admitting it in a regretful manner. Of course Arthur desired a family; he’d always wanted a family. His history with raising quite a few young nations and territories spoke of that desire. But his desire was plagued with the fact that something always attacked that ideal, to the point where he started to doubt that it was a realistic longing.
His attention piqued when Kiku pulled out a photo of Ken, and a lot of that harsh quality fell away from Arthur when he accepted the photograph from him. The way Arthur looked at the infant in the photo was with such warmth and care, that it may have been surprising that he still harbored such vulnerable sentiments in the first place. But he did; they were all simply heavily protected behind that cold front that he always wore like an armor. His children were always a sure way to wriggle past that barrier and to loosen some of that vulnerability into open view. ”I’d like more photographs if you’re able to spare time making them… He’s perfect.” There was a heavy sense of sadness with looking over the photo, knowing that it had been years since he’d last seen him, held him, and murmured soft words into his hair. ”I don’t regret him either, nor the time we’d spent together. I never have.”
He pocketed the photo carefully in his waistcoat when Kiku left it with him. And he continued to listen to his words, how they had been attempting to mend their relations prior to the war. ”I’m pleased to hear that you want to continue mending relations, even after everything that’s happened. And perhaps furthermore, I’m pleased to hear that your ambition isn’t reaching beyond your current borders; and that like me, you’re tired of war.” Arthur’s thoughts still stirred with that conclusion, his mind always in motion, but for today, that was the aim of this meeting today. Or at least one of them.
When Kiku brought up Leon, Arthur was immediately on cautious edge, always and ever protective of the little boy currently in his custody. Although his body language did soften when Japan expressed a desire to be amicable with him as well and to treat him with the same care that he treated their own shared child. And he responded gently. ”I’m glad to hear that you are willing to treat Leon as he should be treated. I wasn’t exactly sure of your intentions for him throughout the war.” Though Arthur was well aware that that likely would’ve been far different for Leon had Arthur been fighting the Axis during the war; Japan potentially could’ve done Hong Kong great harm. Arthur did pause when Kiku mentioned keeping Leon away from Yao. While he did agree that Yao had some questionable parenting methods, some of which were outright abusive, he also didn’t think that it was right to permanently separate a child from their parent.
Arthur took a sip of tea, sorting through his various thoughts once Kiku finished speaking. ”If you’re inclined to interact with Leon and if you keep good on your word to treat him well, then I can bring him over for visits. Of course, he will stay in my custody, but I’m more than willing for him to interact with the rest of his family as often as possible, as long as his continued safety and wellbeing can be guaranteed throughout the duration of his visits. And as long as I’ll be physically there during a visit as well. However, there is one stipulation that I would like to add. While I don’t agree with quite a few of his parenting methods and his repressive, restrictive manner with children, I don’t think it’s right to sever the natural bond that exists between a parent and child... Yao should be allowed to see Leon. Perhaps during the times that I bring Leon over for a visit, I can set aside time for them to meet as well.”
Kiku turned and his fingers wrapped around the handle of the tea pot. With the bag in the cup, he poured the boiling water in and watched the color suffuse for a moment. It wasn’t an avoidance, but a moment of reverie. He licked his lips and sighed. “My bones rattle imagining any more bloodshed,” he said and turned back to Arthur while he allowed his tea to steep. “I feel exhaustion down to the bones, but it not a physical weariness, but one of emotions. I too am now an empire, Arthur,” his voice was bitter, “and I have nothing to show for it but the veneer of my siblings. Oh, the praise they shower, the smiles they give, and every single moment I know them to be nothing. I am distained, hated. Every moment I feel watched for any sign of weakness.” It was only a matter of time before one of them tried something and every single one of them was itching to. He hated it. The paranoia, the fury he felt at their audacity to lie to him, the much more overwhelming sorrow he felt because they doubted him.
Japan wanted his siblings to prosper as he had and something had been holding each of them back, save China but his plans for China were a different matter altogether. Yet even after he’d conquered Yao, the pain had not faded. He’d given Yao a wound that would scar, but unlike the one he’d gifted the one Yao had given him was unseen and it only spread. Yao’s would heal, but Kiku’s wouldn’t. So Kiku could understand why Arthur felt he had to be austere and shielded; Kiku felt much the same, but could he not rebuild his relations with Arthur to a point where if no one else, they could be carefree with one another. His wish for the nation to be more open and his vow to keep their discussions as theirs was genuine, but he would not fault Arthur if he believed them to be no more than pretty words. It was a hollow feeling, nonetheless. It always stung when you were disbelieved and Japan found himself again sighing, though he nodded.
“I haven’t opened myself to another in just as long if not longer,” he told him, “not even to Germany and yet the other nations must think us so close,” he shook his head, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment. Germany kept him at a distance; Germany kept everyone at a distance out of paranoia that Japan wished he too did not feel and sympathize with. “Yet I am going to have to open myself…I want to, Arthur. None of us will find peace again if we cannot forge trust and companionship amongst ourselves. I truly do not want to make any more enemies. I am tired of games of deceit and intrigue. I am tired of spilling blood.” And yet the world looked at as mercantile, a fuse that still burned. They saw him a snake that lied in the grass awaiting prey.
What he was, however, was a nation that was not keen on breaking promises. He never had been. “I did not mean to sound as if I was forcing you. I have probably given you many reasons to distrust me. Gomen. I can only say that I will work to rectify it.” He was sympathetic to the plight of Canada because while China had abandoned him happily when he wasn’t the perfect child he’d wanted, he knew Arthur did care, did want Mathew back, was honestly regretful. He knew the facades of the false and even if long ago Arthur had been pompous and less careful with the hearts of others, he did value family above all else: he was one of the few Japan felt understood him in that regard.
Family had betrayed them all too often, though, hadn’t they? America had rebelled and now Canada believed The United Kingdom cared not for him.
Kiku took up his tea and added just the slightest amount of sugar to it. He sipped it as he watched the emotions play on Arthur’s face and found himself wearing a soft smile of his own. “I can spare plenty of time to make more, and I am sure I have more photographs I have had taken in the preceding years. I have a fondness for my children as do you. I admit I perhaps go overboard in doting upon them, but I am never sorry for it.” He wanted to comfort Arthur, smooth the sadness about his lips and brow but he held back for the moment. Instead he took the cup from his lips.
He watched Arthur store the photograph away with an affectionate smile and the expression stayed even after Britain finished talking. “After all that has happened,” he stared down into his cup and his expression finally clouded again. “You did nothing to me to have me hesitant in agreeing to continue,” He shook his head, “and as for my ambitions I had no plans to take territory owned by my allies without discussion. I really am just tired of battles. Which leads to your worry my intentions for Leon during the war. He was your territory and I kept that in mind and tried to stay from that border. I did not wish to bring fire to his doorstep.” Of course, the tides could have been different had their sides been different, but Japan would not entertain that whimsy. He had caused himself enough grief with his own thoughts of ‘what ifs’ and did not wish to cause more by speaking of them. Yao did not get that same treatment.
“Leon is your and Yao’s son, and I will defer judgment as to Yao’s involvement to you. I speak only as a child who was raised solely by Yao. I know his methods. My caution is just to never allow Yao to raise Leon. Arthur, I do not want to him subject to the terrors of my childhood that I only recently realized were so…but while we are on the subject of bonds between parent and child,” he set aside his cup for the moment. “I expect nothing less than for you present during Leon’s visits be they at my home or yours…but I would like you to come and see Ken as well, with or without Leon. Leon is not required for you to see our kid nor will I use ours as a bargaining chip. I simply want Ken to have his other father and I would be happy to bring him here too…It’s been a long time and I am sorry for that. I did not keep him from you on purpose, but to travel during the war would have put him at danger and I didn’t want him harmed or seized. I would love for you see him, though. I want you to see him as much as I’m sure you want to see him as well.” He smiled.
Arthur’s eyes remained on Kiku as he lamented over some particular points with regards to being an empire. He could empathize with several of the points, but he knew deep down that certain evils came with choosing to be an empire; and in some ways, it did feel like making a deal with the devil where the natural consequences were harsh. He leaned slightly against the sofa, his leg shifting from where it rested over his other leg. ”We deserve their contempt,” he admitted truthfully, the most truthful that he’d been in a while, at least being vocal about what he really thought on the matter. He’d had this conversation with Germany not too long ago, a very similar conversation regarding the natural loathing that came from others whenever one of their kind chose to travel down the damning path to building themselves into an empire.
Arthur sighed, warming his fingers over the porcelain of his teacup for a moment. ”The exchange for acquiring that level of power is naturally, in part, the suffering of others. Of course empires are going to be hated for making that decision… It’s the price that we choose to pay. And in the end, the contempt is natural and should be expected. No matter how noble the intentions.” Of course, in Arthur’s cynical mind, he rarely ever believed in noble intentions. His own intentions for making that choice long ago were far from noble. Especially among the older nations who were well-versed in the world, and thus, severely tainted by it.
But, for now, he listened to Kiku as he continued to explain his side when it came to the necessity of opening himself up to other nations. ”We may grow weary of the game of deceit and intrigue, of spilling blood, but the world will never grow weary of it, unfortunately,” he commented with a rather wry, half smile. ”Believe me, I tire of it as well. I’ve had my moments in history where I could barely function after some particularly devastating events; but because the world is merciless in its pace, I always had to go back to playing its ruthless game, whether I wanted to or not.”
Arthur’s muscles seemed to grow less tense with Kiku’s explanation that he didn’t mean to sound as if he was forcing him to open up. ”It’s quite alright,” he responded. In truth, Arthur simply didn’t trust any of the other nations. The only one that he could truly rely on was himself, and that went for every other nation in existence as well. His eyes did glance up to meet Kiku’s when he mentioned making more photos of Ken for Arthur’s personal collection, and he smiled a little. ”That would be lovely, if you could. I try to keep photos of what family I currently have on me at all times.” He was an extraordinarily sentimental nation, particularly when it came to his children. It was the reason why he also perhaps doted on them more than he should.
Arthur also seemed relieved, greatly so, when Kiku agreed to continue in mending their relationship, hopefully to nurture it into something closer than what they’ve had before. ”I’m very glad to hear that.” And hearing Kiku state that he had no intention of hurting or bringing any trouble to Leon’s doorstep, he reached the small distance between them for Kiku’s free hand, curling his fingers softly over the top, this thumb grazing along the side. ”Thank you… You know how much he means to me, and I appreciate your discretion with keeping him carefully out of the business of war on your end.” Of course, the business of war equated to copious amounts of bloodshed, torment, and the sort of miserable recuperation that could last for decades.
”And I do plan on visiting you and Ken as well, as often as I’m able to travel. I hear your caution… with regards to what you had to endure throughout your childhood. I intend on being present whenever I do bring Leon over to see Yao. I could even come and see you and Ken whenever I do make the trip to set up these visits? That way, the two children can become well-acquainted with each other as well, being half-siblings and all.” Arthur's lips curved a little at Kiku’s insistence that he see Ken whenever he wanted as well as his apology for not bringing him sooner. ”It’s fine, love… I’d prefer that you didn’t bring him over in the midst of war. You thought of him first, and for that, I’m appreciative. We can set the date for when I can next be over for a visit, if you’d like?”
