This is for my friend, lemur. You mentioned you like traditional Chinese instruments and that picture we were chatting about had an erhu. I've honestly never heard an erhu being played before so I went on youtube and listened to it. For most of the night that was all I listened to. It's a beautiful instrument. I can't describe how it sounded. It's really one of those things you have to go and listen to for yourself.

Happy Valentine's Day to you! (A late one haha). And also just for you I'll make it multi-chapter! I doubt it'll be as long as you want it to be (12 chapters, girl? Seriously? You crazy...) but I hope you enjoy this story that I pulled out of my...hair ^_^

America stared at the scenery before him, in awe of it's beauty. There was nothing quite like this back home.

"Chinatown doesn't do the real place justice," he whispered to himself.

A spur of the moment decision had caused America to jump on a plane and fly to the giant land of China. He didn't know why he did it and the shocked look on China's face when the American showed up on his doorstep showed he didn't know why either. America expected to be kicked out, but surprisingly China just sighed and invited him inside for tea.

The two actually had a nice day. They stayed inside and drank and ate, China listening intently to America's ramblings about nothing. They smiled and laughed together for once neither of them feeling the burden of troublesome nations, difficult politics, stressful finances, or any of the other things that caused them grief.

"Do you live here alone?" America finally stopped talking about himself long enough to ask China a personal question.

China just nodded his head which was resting on his hand. The two were sitting around a table that was low to the ground. America knew there was name for the small table, but he couldn't remember for the life of him what it was called. He decided not to ask just so he didn't sound stupid or uncultured. He took another sip of his drink, staring at China and waiting for him to say a bit more. Just when he thought he was done speaking, China finally opened his mouth again.

"I thought you lived alone as well."

"Who me? No way!" America cried. "I have Tony! He stays with me."

"A friend of yours?"

"Yep!" A laugh escaped America as he thought of his friend who was still back home. "We do a lot together! We play games and eat and drink and party hard! I don't think I could get used to living alone again. I mean, don't you get lonely?"

"Sometimes," China said simply and took another drink. "Nowadays no one really listens to me unless it has to deal with politics or the market. It's stressful. It would be nice to have someone to just...talk to."

"Oh," America said quietly.

Silence took over and China felt guilty for ruining the mood. They were having such a great time and he couldn't keep his mouth shut about his problems. America was here to have fun with him, not bask in his misery about being ignored or disliked. He was going to apologize when the other man suddenly perked up, a huge grin crossing his face.

"Well, you have me to talk to! I know we have a lot of business and other important stuff to deal with together, but that doesn't mean we can't be personal friends, right?"

China didn't want to believe that hopeful look on America's face. As if he honestly wanted to be friends. He was only asking now because he had heard China complain. There was no other reason than that. China did everything he could to push down the horrible feeling of hope, the feeling that maybe he could have a friend in this crazy world. Part of him believed America would abandon him just like everyone else, but he couldn't deny the other side of him...the side that wanted so desperately to have someone near him, someone he could call a friend.

"I don't see why not." China said, looking down. "Let's be friends."

"Awesome!"

America was obviously enthused, though China didn't share his same enthusiasm. He was worried, panicked. What had he done? He had only set himself up to be abandoned again. He knew he would wind up regretting this decision.

"You must be tired," China said, standing up. "You traveled all the way here and didn't have time to freshen up. I'll take you to a room and you can rest there."

"Oh, but I'm not tired!" America stood up, trying to protest, but China wasn't going to listen.

"You'll be exhausted if you don't get some rest. We had some fun, but you really should try to get some sleep. Tomorrow I'll show you around and take you to some of the famous landmarks."

America wanted so badly to argue, but even he knew better than to make Asians angry. The last thing he wanted was China to nag at him and scold him just because he wouldn't go lay down. He followed the older nation to one of his rooms, a decorated room and yet at the same time very simple. The more America stared at the bed China was fixing up for him the more he realized how tired he really was. So China was right...though America would never admit it.

"It's getting late anyway. I should probably be going to bed myself," China said.

"Is it really that late?" America looked at his watch, though China walked over to him and quickly covered it with his hand. He smiled at the confused look America gave to him.

"Did you remember to set your watch to the correct time?"

He didn't. He knew he hadn't and China knew it also. A chuckle escaped his mouth as he moved America's luggage to a more convenient space in the room. America hadn't noticed the other man had brought his bags in with him. Was he really that tired? His bags weren't exactly small; he wasn't sure how he had missed China carrying them.

"Even though your watch has has the wrong time I assure you it's quite late. We ought to head to sleep now if we want to be up early to go sightseeing."

America nodded, a yawn escaping him as he thanked China for his hospitality. He really never expected to be welcomed so warmly especially considering he had shown up out of the blue. China was genuinely a good person. While he changed into his pajamas he thought about how he would do something nice for China in return. His home was always welcome to whoever wanted to come! Maybe after he went back home he would invite China over and personally show him the wonder of the United States of America.

As he thought about all of the places he would take China to see -the Statue of Liberty, the Empire State Building, then travel down to see the Pentagon and the White House- he fell into a warm and cozy sleep.

America slowly stirred, his eyes not wanting to open and admit that he was awake for some reason. He blinked a few times before looking at his watch, which he had sat next to his bed, only to remember that it wasn't correct. At first he wasn't sure why he had woken, but as he stared at the ceiling the reason became very clear.

Someone was playing music.

It sounded familiar, but at the same time there was no way he had heard it before. Was it a violin? No, it couldn't have been. America got out of the bed and opened the door to his room. The sound was more distinct now and he was sure he had no idea what instrument was being played. The only thing he was sure of was that it was native to the land he was visiting.

He followed the sounds, the gorgeous and calming music. It was like nothing he had ever heard before. It was so elegant and pretty and yet there was something melancholic about the tune being played.

He walked a bit more before he opened a door he was sure the sound was coming from. There was China sitting on his porch under the moon, a long instrument in his hands, one America had never seen before. So, he was the one playing this wonderful music. America tiptoed onto the large deck and quietly sat down behind China and listened to his playing. It was worth it to be woken up for this. How often did people get to see such a traditional and beautiful sight? It was almost like watching a rare tiger in it's natural habitat.

America listened to the sad and lovely music. He savored every note, every tune, and let the music take him over. It had been a while since he had heard something outside of whatever was on television or the radio. This was true music from the heart, a song created from the emotions and feelings of a genuine and honest man.

Just when America thought the music was going to lull him to sleep again China's song came to an end. He watched as China held his instrument close to him and sighed, a shake of his head following. There were so many things America wanted to say. He wanted to ask China why he seemed so depressed, he wanted to tell him his music was absolutely gorgeous, he wanted to ask him to play again, he wanted to know what he could do to make China feel better about whatever was bothering him, but when he opened his mouth...

"Ch-China?"

The other nation nearly fell off the deck when he heard his name called, though he recovered and stared at America as if he were crazy.

"What are you doing here? Weren't you sleeping?" The startled China said a bit more aggressively than he meant to.

"I was! But I heard the music and...woke up."

"Oh..." China set his instrument next to him and brought his knees to his chest. "I'll stop playing. I didn't mean to wake you." He said in barely a whisper.

"No, no!" America crawled across the deck until he reached China and sat indian style in front of him. "I love this music! I've never heard anything like it before!"

"It's Chinese."

"Well, I know that!" America rolled his eyes before glancing at the instrument. It was a peculiar instrument with a long neck with strings attached and large block at the bottom. China had been playing it with a bow which reminded America of a violin or a cello. "What is this?" He finally decided to ask as he ran his hand across the long stem of the instrument.

"It's called an erhu. It's a popular instrument here."

"Has it been around long? It has a traditional kind of sound to it."

"I suppose it's been around since, oh say...the Tang Dynasty?" China gave a shrug as he looked at the erhu.

"The Tang Dynasty?" America asked, obviously not familiar with China's history.

"A very long time ago," China said with a laugh. He watched as America looked at his instrument with fascination. He wondered why he was so interested. It couldn't have been possible America was interested in his playing. No one had bothered to listen to him play in he couldn't remember how long.

"Your playing was really nice," America complimented, a soft smile on his face. It was a look that China didn't often see on the young nation.

"Will you play again?" he suddenly exclaimed, that soft smile leaving to be replaced with one of excitement and eagerness.

China couldn't believe there was actually someone, someone right here in front of him, who wanted so badly to hear his music. It was like a dream come true. He smiled and reached for the erhu before the dark thoughts began to fill his mind. America was only being polite. He had been woken by the sounds of music and he was pissed, but he couldn't show it because he was a guest in someone else's house. He didn't want to hear China's music. He didn't want to hear him play his song.

That was all there was to it...

"Go to sleep, America," China said with a sigh. He stood up, taking his erhu with him and heading for the door.

"Wait!" America called after him, standing up as well. "You really aren't going to play for me?"

But China was already gone, leaving America on his own to wonder what was going through the other nation's head and how he could help him in any way possible.