Medicine = Magic [RoChu Fanfiction]

Prologue Part 1

"Sir."

The word resonated throughout the room, calling the personification of China to attention.

"Yes?" He responded, his answer steady, somehow managing to stay calm when all he really wanted to do was run as fast and as far away as possible. He knew this was coming, he should have kept his curiosity to himself back those four months ago.

Slowly turning around, the nation swallowed the bile threatening to rise in his throat.

The messenger who had first spoke bowed to him, black hair falling over his shoulders momentarily, "I was called here to tell you what had to be done,"

"I... I am aware," China's uncertainty was noticeable, but the messenger did not respond to it out of politeness.

"You must go into battle, it is our only chance,"

Swallowing again, the Asian country nodded, not knowing what words he could use to express his feelings. It was all a jumble of fear in his brain, the stress of the coming battles weighing on his red clad shoulders. In that time, power struggles were common and the country knew it, his body ached constantly from the waring, but there was nothing he could do about it.

"Please sir," the messenger bowed again, "the emperor has asked for your help,"

Outside the birds chirped, and a small stream could be heard quietly running over it's rocky bed. The emptiness of the sounds filled the room instead of much needed words, the tension apparent to the human and the country.

China took in a deep breath before responding, "it is my duty as a nation to help fight, I will go tomorrow, please leave me for now."

As the messenger bowed for a third time China turned around again, eyes searching his view of the garden for nothing in particular. There was nothing he wanted to see, and far too much to risk. It had been the truth when he said that it was his duty to fight, it had always been that way even if most of the time it didn't matter since he kept to himself.

This battle of all battles, the timing was almost implausible, now when he was so weak. Now when his medicine had been proved to work much more than the conventional miracles.

There was nothing he could do about it, he had given his word. The next morning he would leave for war, he would come back, he was a country after all, but his own death wasn't what worried him. It was the life of another being that was straining on him. The life of a child who was yet to be born, an unconventional child through and unconventional fashion.

Too late.

Words that only proved to make him more regretful.

Words that only made him wish for the past more.

Obviously that was impossible, and beings like him knew it more than anyone else. Even if sometimes it felt nice to dream, a wish that would be brought back many times in the future, after this battle, after this time period, when China's medicine sat as more of taboo than miracles.

He glanced over his shoulder, relieved to find that the messenger had left as he had asked, and slowly turned around again. He faced the stairway that he had walked up a little while ago, prepared to walk down it again. There was no one he could tell of his blight, no one who would praise him for it, even comfort him about it. All he could do was suck it up and move on with his life.

So he took a few steps forward.

Walking towards an ever approaching tomorrow.