The Little Things [8b/?]
anonymous
November 28 2009, 06:41:46 UTC
For his part, Japan tilted his head upwards as he traced the outline of the light above their heads, curious of the other’s reason for visiting. He could speculate, but no matter how he looked at the situation, the nation could not figure out any plausible explanation; aside from visiting for the sake of visiting.
Even as the thought occurred to him, he could not bring himself to really understand why anyone would take time from their own busy schedules for that alone.
But was there any real reason for him to complain? To not have doctors or nurses clamouring about, marking notes down as they spoke to themselves, and without the need of papers and politics, while he continued to hear his people in the distance (still unable to help them) was a welcome change.
To remember a time when he watched the clouds move - slowly, slowly - as cats milled about, content with how life was, despite everything…
With a start, snapped out of his train of thought, Japan could only stare down blankly at the cats Greece suddenly deposited in his lap. They did not seem to mind, instead shifting around the injured nation’s legs for a more comfortable spot before curling up to continue their naps. Japan shook his head, uselessly, as a tabby was pushed into his arms even as he spoke up;
“Greece-san, I do not think they allow pets in the hospital. How did you even-?”
The brunet shifted his hold on the three in his own arms, giving a thoughtful hum in reply; “They followed me. I think they missed Japan…”
The island nation almost questioned the reasoning behind such words, but stopped. There were too many things on mind - to remember, always, as his people struggled outside (he couldn’t forget that) - and he knew worrying about something so insignificant changed nothing. The cats were already here, as was Greece-…
It was not like he didn’t want the other nation there, though he would have preferred it under better circumstances. Even Japan could not lie to himself that, out of those who could have dropped by, Greece’s company was one he cherished deeply, even if he would never be able to put such sentiments into words. On the other hand, the idea of breaking the hospital’s rules caused him to shift uncomfortably.
The brunet caught the movement, though; head tilted to the side as he allowed the cats in his arms to jump down and wander off, Japan blinked when Greece leaned forward, one hand raised, as if to touch his face.
He stopped though, mere millimetres from the bandages that wrapped around the nation’s head. Japan turned away quickly, head half-bowed, the stark reminder of where he was, and the reasons why, hanging in the air (the smell of anaesthetic and blood from reopened wounds sharper to the senses).
At least the war is over; the thought caused his chest to clench painfully, as he remembered the destruction that awaited him outside the room. Though a part of him dreaded it - so weak; so, so weak at times - Japan also knew he had to be there. It was his responsibility to pick up the pieces around him, even as the steady stream of visits reminded him of what price had to be paid.
Even as the thought occurred to him, he could not bring himself to really understand why anyone would take time from their own busy schedules for that alone.
But was there any real reason for him to complain? To not have doctors or nurses clamouring about, marking notes down as they spoke to themselves, and without the need of papers and politics, while he continued to hear his people in the distance (still unable to help them) was a welcome change.
To remember a time when he watched the clouds move - slowly, slowly - as cats milled about, content with how life was, despite everything…
With a start, snapped out of his train of thought, Japan could only stare down blankly at the cats Greece suddenly deposited in his lap. They did not seem to mind, instead shifting around the injured nation’s legs for a more comfortable spot before curling up to continue their naps. Japan shook his head, uselessly, as a tabby was pushed into his arms even as he spoke up;
“Greece-san, I do not think they allow pets in the hospital. How did you even-?”
The brunet shifted his hold on the three in his own arms, giving a thoughtful hum in reply; “They followed me. I think they missed Japan…”
The island nation almost questioned the reasoning behind such words, but stopped. There were too many things on mind - to remember, always, as his people struggled outside (he couldn’t forget that) - and he knew worrying about something so insignificant changed nothing. The cats were already here, as was Greece-…
It was not like he didn’t want the other nation there, though he would have preferred it under better circumstances. Even Japan could not lie to himself that, out of those who could have dropped by, Greece’s company was one he cherished deeply, even if he would never be able to put such sentiments into words. On the other hand, the idea of breaking the hospital’s rules caused him to shift uncomfortably.
The brunet caught the movement, though; head tilted to the side as he allowed the cats in his arms to jump down and wander off, Japan blinked when Greece leaned forward, one hand raised, as if to touch his face.
He stopped though, mere millimetres from the bandages that wrapped around the nation’s head. Japan turned away quickly, head half-bowed, the stark reminder of where he was, and the reasons why, hanging in the air (the smell of anaesthetic and blood from reopened wounds sharper to the senses).
At least the war is over; the thought caused his chest to clench painfully, as he remembered the destruction that awaited him outside the room. Though a part of him dreaded it - so weak; so, so weak at times - Japan also knew he had to be there. It was his responsibility to pick up the pieces around him, even as the steady stream of visits reminded him of what price had to be paid.
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