A/N: I have this really morbid obsession with China.

So have a sort of AmeChu oneshot.

(Isn't it weird that China looks like a girl, and even uses the girl's weapon, a frying pan or wok, and he has a childish voice?)

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A third of the Great Wall is perfect. A third is broken. The rest have vanished.

He tried so hard not to focus on that, and luckily, he did.

Because his attention was turned to the screams of immature youngsters.

"China!? What did you do to your hair?!" America exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at said person.

"I must say, it does fit him." England mumbled, receiving a 'I-Will-Kill-You-Opium-Bastard' glare.

"Even with short hair he still looks like a girl!" Prussia yelled when China went through the meeting room doors.

"Here's the deal aru. You either shut up about me, or I hit you with my wok aru. Got it?" He said dryly.

They all nodded vigorously, turning their attention to Germany going on about... What was it?

A lot of them shot glances at China, and he pretended to ignore them ALL.

But that was so fucking hard.

His hair becoming short was not his decision. Not at all.

He looked like an older version of Hong Kong, but he didn't care.

It fell out. Everyday a little bit of it would come undone, and everyday he lost a part of his soul.

The great wall was his whole soul. His people built it by hand, and it was supposed to stand forever.

But now, it's just half-perfect-half-broken-have-gone.

Later that night, the host country, America, decided to have a dinner for the Allied & Axis.

And somehow, the countries become entranced by the beautiful restaurant that America chose.

It was a secret-looking outdoor area, a small space between two brick walls. It seemed connected to one wall by a door.

Fairy lights hung above them, and they 'oohed' and 'aahed' as they sat down.

"Seriously dude, what's with the hair?" America asks China while eating. China huffs with irritation.

"Will you shut up about that aru?" "No, I won't." China sighs, stuffing his mouth with a strawberry crepe.

He finally gives in. "The wall is broken aru." America looked to him with confusion. "'Scuse me, what?"

He sighs again. "My hair represents the Great Wall. A third of it is broken and a thrid has dissapeared. Thus, explaining why I have short crappy hair aru."

America made an 'oh' shape with his mouth, then smiled.

He dug through his backpack and came up with a bomber jacket sort of like his, except it was smaller.

He got up form his chair and put it over Cina, making him flinch. "What the hell are you doing aru?" He asked, iritated.

"I thought this might fit you with your short hair." America said, making China insert his arms into the holes.

"Not bad, aru." He mumbled, studying his look. America sat beside him, and instantly, China pulled his tie. "How much was this jacket aru?"

"U-Uh, last I remember, probably 40,000 US dollars?" China mumbled, "good enough." He inched his face closer to America's.

"What are you doing?" "Thanking you for the jacket, meiguo." He whispered before closing the distance between their lips.