Fingers trailed, aimlessly, across the table’s surface, while Japan watched Pochi wander out the room. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear the call of birds - welcoming another day, perhaps - though he knew it was nothing more than a useless observation. A single, steady beat against the table at the realisation; tap, tap, tap.
Perhaps it was time he returned to his chores, Japan told himself. It was not like he had any other guests to attend to, having just seen America off after a long week; politics and lengthy talks he was accustomed to, but their debates on the direction MMORPGs were heading to could take a lot out of a person, no matter how enthusiastic they were.
Still, a part of him could not help but find it amusing at how easily his life seemed to slip back into a familiar routine, as if the past week had not occurred.
He would rise at dawn, do the chores around the house, take care of Pochi, deal with any work passed to him, go out if there was any practical reason to, eat at the appropriate times, then retire for the night. Very rarely were such routines broken, aside from visits from other nations, or an urgent call concerning a recent matter he would already be aware of, and Japan had come to appreciate it.
That silence, the hours in which he could hear his thoughts and try to form them into words no one would hear-
And, sometimes, he would remember. Times when he had isolated himself from the world, when he had fought; hurting others, being hurt…
A part of Japan questioned himself over such matters, even as he stepped out of his house, sliding the door shut behind him. Life continued on, and he could only follow after it, to see where it would take him.
Days would pass, the same routine (over and over); no America to break the serenity, no England to talk about topics that may or may not have concerned them, no China to try and bring up days long gone - perhaps the closest thing to happier moments before the world reminded them of what they were - or Italy to drag him someplace, to enjoy life a little more.
No one to stop him. No one to break the monotony.
And Japan liked it; told himself he did, even as a gentle knock knock cut through the haze, and his stomach twisted for unknown reasons (a simple delivery, there and gone before another word was spoken).
This. This was-
So it made no sense, on that cloudy day, when he caught sight of a familiar group of cats that the bag he had been carrying dropped to the ground. His heart was not supposed to beat so loudly - too quickly - as he stepped forward, while Greece continued to stare at the doors, waiting for an answer.
His voice had been distant, though apparently loud enough for his unexpected guest to turn. The cats seemed more than happy to wind themselves around Japan’s feet, clearly wishing to be acknowledged, as Greece approached him.
Half-formed apologies (sudden decision, just thought-) were cut short when impulse drove Japan to step forward, closer than necessary, to wrap his arms around the other, realisation of his actions milliseconds too late. Before he could pull away, however, Greece returned the embrace, and Japan could only wonder when it had started.
The detachment from reality, despite his attempts to keep those he called friends close; a gradual process no one, not even himself, had noticed. Why, as days passed without a care in the world, he thought it had been alright.
And why did it hurt now; this realisation he might have welcomed, once upon a time? There was no answer to it, nothing that made sense, even as he pulled away with a murmured apology.
Greece merely took a hold of his hand, speaking as if nothing strange had occurred; “Welcome home.”
A different sort of silence, as Japan tightened his grip - pain still in his chest, unshed tears of frustration and relief (why? He did not know) as something else… - and managed a reply; “I’m home.”
The Little Things [10/?]
anonymous
December 12 2009, 08:17:35 UTC
ten: intoxication
Though he swayed, just a little, and his lips twitched in something that may have been an amused smile, Japan insisted that he was not drunk, thank you very much. This earned a long, scrutinising look from Greece that would have made the island nation flush at the attention, had it been any other day.
It was not like he was a danger to anyone or himself, though, Greece knew; even now, Japan stepped forward with a deliberate amount of concentration, clearly unwilling to accept any external help on their trek back to his place. And it was incredibly rare to see Japan in this state, so much so that such situations could be counted on a single hand, despite the many years between them.
Greece stopped when Japan did, turning back to look at him for a moment, as if contemplating his next move. Then the barest hint of a shrug, a bow, as he turned once more and continued on his way; they were the only ones present, of course, the night their constant companion.
A warm night, almost heavy in its presence as it blanketed them, while Japan murmured a simple tune Greece recognised; a children’s rhyme, one of the first things the island nation had taught him long, long ago.
He might have joined in, but Greece really did prefer listening to the other, when he had the chance. The way Japan’s voice rose and fell - a little off, though it was barely noticeable - as he continued to walk with complete certainty, tone melancholic as he saw and heard things; remembered parts of his life Greece could only imagine.
Japan trailed off when they arrived at his place, cursed a little before Greece stepped forward to give him a hand, as they stepped inside. Though a part of him thought the island nation would merely wander off to bed, he was not completely surprised when Japan began muttering calculations and key combinations, as he entered the sitting room and pulled out one of his many consoles.
The fact he could play Soulcalibur while completely intoxicated, and still manage near-perfect wins, was a feat upon itself (the same could be said about Greece losing constantly against Japan during versus mode, even in such a state; it might have been due to the fact he did not take it quite as seriously as the other, though). Greece could recall mentioning it, once, only to have Japan mutter something about the weather and were Greece-san’s cats alright? to steer the conversation elsewhere.
A not-so-gentle prod in his shoulder jerked the brunet out of his thoughts, and he blinked, uncomprehending for a moment. Japan had his head tilted to the side, watching him almost curiously, while Greece stared at the paused game on-screen, trying to work out why it looked different. The realisation that he had drifted off came as no surprise, even as Japan drew back on his knees.
It was clear he had decided to stop for the night, as he instead watched Greece, fingers twisting in a familiar pattern; when the other wanted to say something, yet knew he could never really make himself do so.
“Japan?” He prompted, after half a minute passed without a word between them.
The island nation started, “Eh? Aa… um…” Silence, as he bit his lip, fingers still twisting, the barest hint of a slur in his words, “I… apologise. We should probably turn in for the night-”
Greece nodded to this, standing up as he offered Japan a hand. There was something endearing at the fact that he flushed heavily at this, as if suddenly aware of his previous actions - before their walk home, leaning forward; the lightest touch of lips against lips, fingers intertwined, before turning away and murmuring words that were still too hard to say at times - even as he accepted the gesture.
Next morning, Japan would reprimand himself, whether or not he remembered, even as Greece murmured reassurance that nothing terrible had happened (it was not unlike Japan to spend numerous nights playing games, after all). It was alright to be like that, once in a while, he would say, words repeated each and every time, until Japan managed a nod before he buried himself back under the sheets to deal with his hangover.
Then the cats would join in, as Greece took care of him, humming a rhyme he had heard long ago.
The Little Things [11/?]
anonymous
December 12 2009, 08:24:17 UTC
eleven: gaps in-between
“I apologise for calling so suddenly-…”
“That’s fine.” The sound of cats meowing in the background was clear, as the phone seemed to shift in his hold, “We’ve both been busy, so…” He trailed off, as if it were unnecessary for him to finish speaking.
Japan nodded though, could not help but do so, as he stared at the half-completed sentence of the transcript he had been working on; “I suppose… Have you been well?” His computer chimed an incoming message, but he chose to ignore it.
“Mm, well,” Greece hummed, “I’m managing. The cats are doing fine as well.” He added as an afterthought, before Japan could ask.
Another unseen nod, as fingers twisted into the folds of his yukata while the cursor onscreen moved around; click click. “I am sorry you are facing such difficult times right now. I…”
He trailed off, unsure as to how he was supposed to offer help to the other nation. It was not like they never faced issues with their own people - so many conflicting views and emotions, it was almost sad to see them fighting - and he was certain Greece would get through it. Like any other time.
Still, the guilt could not be swept away so easily.
“Japan?”
“Hm?” He stopped, blinked (ignored Italy’s email for the time being; it was not of high importance, after all, but he did enjoy such simple interactions), “Ah, I apologise.”
“No, you don’t need to apologise, I…” A yawn.
“Am… am I keeping you up late? If so…” Japan shifted in his seat, a fresh wave of guilt almost overwhelming him at the fact. But he had been careful to call at a respectable time on both sides, so…
Greece chuckled at this, as if knowing what was on Japan’s mind; “Don’t mind me. I’m enjoying this.”
“Eh?”
“I mean, talking to you.” It would not have surprised Japan if the other nation was smiling now. The cats seemed to be closer as well, clamouring about as they meowed into the phone, “I think they know who I’m talking to.”
Japan could not completely wipe the smile off his own face at the thought, “That would be impossible, Greece-san.”
“I wonder…”
Thoughtful silence, as Greece considered his words once more. Shifting in his seat, Japan turned away from the computer screen, watching the patterns created on the floor as sunlight filtered through.
“Perhaps…” he began slowly, hearing the nation on the other end hum, “if it is not too much of a problem for you, if I were to visit… I mean-”
“It is rather beautiful, this time of year. It would be nice to see you again as well,” Greece said, effectively cutting through the beginning of Japan’s panicked explanation of his words.
“Is that so. Then…” Japan stopped, as he caught sight of a recently sent email. With a muttered curse, he opened it, “I apologise, Greece-san, something urgent has come up, and I-”
“Hn, you don’t need to apologise. Just call when you have the time.”
“Y-yes…” Japan made no attempt to mask his smile, as he opened another window to compose his message, “Goodbye, then.”
“Goodbye.”
Click. The line went dead, as he set his phone aside. Rubbing his temples gently, Japan slid the chair closer to his desk, ready to deal with the problem and get it out of his way as soon as possible.
And then, once it was out of the way, he would-… Japan squashed the thoughts for the time being, as sunlit patterns on the floor remained ever changing, while time moved on.
Re: The Little Things [11/?]
anonymous
December 13 2009, 02:41:48 UTC
I was already grinning like a madman when I saw the updated note on the Fills List, and I'm only grinning even more hugely after actually reading the update. So much that my cheeks hurt right now.
You capture them beautifully, anon. So beautifully that you leave me near incoherence and scrambling for things to say other than "Love love love it" or "This is why I love Greece/Japan."
I sort of imagine Japan to be the way you portray him - having all those subtle nuances and insecurities even as he tries to convince himself that they're not there - and you so perfectly captured the subtle feelings going on in there. Did I mention how great you are at the "subtle" thing with Greece and Japan? Because I find that it's all too easy to write them as flat and uninspired, and it takes something special put there to really make them shine. And you have that in spades.
The Little Things [12/15]
anonymous
December 23 2009, 10:27:12 UTC
Only one part this time as I wanted to celebrate the holidays, but Christmas won’t cooperate with me right now. So I’m jumping ahead.
Ending at part 15 (as 20 would kill me, possibly) so… look forward to it?
------
twelve: dear world
All the lights had been switched off as the low, distorted crackle from the radio remained the only source of distinct noise. The cats had gathered together, in an attempt to retain body heat, while snow drifted lazily outside.
“It’s almost the end of another year.”
Japan glanced over to Greece, shifting his hold on the blanket wrapped around them as they remained on the couch. He lifted it a fraction, allowing a kitten to join them as he spoke; “I suppose many would consider it a fresh start.”
Greece hummed at this, thoughtful, and shifted a fraction closer. Tucking his arms into his sleeves, Japan chose to remain ignorant of the action as he turned back to the scene before them.
It was a beautiful sight, despite the fact he had seen it many times before; snow covered everything it touched as it fell slowly, gradually. The quiet that accompanied it always left him feeling as if he were the only one to witness it, especially once the sun had set, his people out of sight.
The sense of loneliness that accompanied it could be overwhelming, quiet stifling, though Japan could never truly tear his gaze away from it all. Each time, when the day was over and he had little else to occupy his time with, he would watch, as seconds (minutes, hours) seemed to drag on.
Though there would be moments like these that reminded him otherwise, as the island nation felt Greece wrap an arm around his waist, tugging them closer together. Japan allowed it - they were the only ones present, save for the cats - and he welcomed the additional warmth.
“Have any resolutions for the new year?” Greece asked, and Japan blinked, allowing himself a moment to shift and find a comfortable position for the both of them, as some of the cats gathered by their feet joined the pair under the blanket.
“I suppose I can only resolve to continue to do my best,” he mused. Lacing his fingers together, Japan allowed one of the cats to crawl into his lap, “and to do well economically, as well as keep up good relations.”
The arm around his waist seemed to tighten a fraction, as Greece allowed his head to rest on the other’s shoulder, “And if I were to ask you the question, would it differ?”
“I-I wonder.” A cough, while Japan briefly contemplated shifting away (impossible as it was, with the cats pressed up against him and Greece’s arm still around his waist), “We have seen the coming and going of countless years, so in many ways it will just be another day for us.”
“Still, it does give you a moment to reflect over the past year.”
“That is true…” Japan trailed off, unsure of which direction their conversation was going, but when the other did not continue, he allowed his mind to wander.
In a way, it was strange to realise that another year was coming to a close, but there was always something to look forward to. It would be another beginning, as his people continued to grow and learn; reaching out, as words and decisions continued to remind him that it was not easy, and never had been.
Still, it was alright, Japan decided, to be able to just watch on like this, as the final rays of sunlight disappeared beneath the horizon. Neither found it necessary to move from their position; surrounded by cats, while the faint crackle of the radio remained untouched as the room darkened.
“… Greece-san?”
“Hm?” He shifted at this, stifling a yawn in the process. Japan bit his lip as he stared down at the outline of his hands, before ploughing on: it was now or never, he knew, as he would return home the next day, and they would be too busy to keep in contact for a while. Besides, it was just a question.
“Do you have any particular resolutions for the new year?”
In the silence that followed, Japan began to wonder if Greece had drifted off, before he felt the other move again. Closer this time, as the answer was whispered into his ear; a low chuckle, murmured words in reply - I should have known - while fingers intertwined, and they turned to watch as the snow continued to fall.
Re: The Little Things [12/15]
anonymous
December 23 2009, 19:15:56 UTC
*sighs happily* You really do spoil us so, anon. That was beautiful and so them that I have no other words to say that I haven't already said before.
I wonder if Greece's "And if I were to ask you the question, would it differ?" meant "But what about you as the person, not the country?" Regardless, I love how you reveal just enough to establish the setting and characters but leave enough unsaid to show how familiar and comfortable the characters are with each other. Just the right dose of warmth for a cold December day.
writer!anon
anonymous
December 24 2009, 09:10:03 UTC
Thank you, I'm really glad to hear that :)
And as for Greece repeating the question; that was exactly what I was trying to convey (I did initially have him rephrasing it to ask Kiku, but ended up rewording it). I'm hoping people get that sort of impression - that he's asking it on a personal level, but not needing to be too specific, and that Japan understands. Or, at least, catches on the second time around.
... now I'm wondering if that actually makes sense. Eheh.
Re: writer!anon
anonymous
December 25 2009, 00:07:49 UTC
You're welcome! I can't thank you enough for giving us a lovely Giripan fill, honestly. I'll be sad to see it end, but I'll be rereading this fill often whenever I need to give myself a refresher on why I love this pairing so much.
Don't worry; you've got a knack for implying things like that with the two of them without going into needless explanation territory. So your explanation made perfect sense to me as our headcanons seem to be similar to each other.
And now I'm wondering if I know you. The more I think about it, the more familiar your writing style seems, and I know only one other fan who writes Giripan with any sort of regularity...
Re: writer!anon
anonymous
December 25 2009, 07:05:36 UTC
skljdakkljkl You really are too kind. Admittedly, I have hopes of writing more for this at a later date, but I feel it’s almost time for me to finish off here.
And I’m glad it made sense, since there are times when I can’t help but wonder if my thoughts actually make much sense at all.
The Little Things [13/15]
anonymous
January 16 2010, 09:50:09 UTC
Thanks for everything; you’ve been an awesome group of anons ♥♥♥ Words cannot express my feelings towards you all. Oh, and the title for part 15 is intentional.
------
thirteen: echo
He could see the moon’s reflection on the water, while fireflies seemed to sway in the welcoming darkness. It was a sight that Greece could do nothing more but appreciate, unable to tear his gaze away, even as Japan moved to take a seat beside him on the grass.
It seemed that, no matter how many times he was witness to such a scene, it would continue to remind him of how beautiful life really was. As years, centuries, blurred into each other - sometimes good, sometimes bad; not quite a balance between the two, as it was never that easy - being welcomed by a familiar sight was comforting.
It held nothing but good memories between friends; murmured conversations that led to nowhere, a moment that just existed.
Even so, it would only last for so long; the sun would rise once more, diminishing the night that almost protected them, while people prepared for the coming day. It was nothing more than a fact of life, and one they all accepted.
But at least, until that time came to an end, he would watch as each second seemed to slip by them.
It allowed him a moment to mull over how short mortality really was: how words and actions could occasionally be interpreted in so many ways, while views and beliefs differed from person to person. The same mistakes - time and again, no matter how many times one failed - that seemed to stretch out into forever, as they lived in a world that was always changing; developing, harnessing technology while buildings seemed to get higher (fireworks exploding from above) and sometimes it was difficult to keep track of it all.
So it was nice, to be able to sit and watch as everything seemed to slow down, a place that felt as if it they were nothing but observers to the rest of the world.
Perhaps it was only this place, this time, Greece mused; this little part of Japan that looked as if it had remained untouched throughout the years. While it was not uncommon for them to have at least one final connecting thread to days long gone, he knew that he would never tire of visiting this place (so different, so beautiful… so much like the nation who sat next to him).
He was certain Japan felt the same - about this place, and the untouched lands beyond the sea - as he glanced over the same moment a firefly chose to hover between them. Slowly, so as not to scare the insect away, the shorter nation reached out.
Like that, the light between them vanished; it could still be seen though, a dull glow between Japan’s fingers. For a moment, Greece was nothing more than a spectator, a witness to a side of Japan rarely seen. But the other nation turned to him, barest hint of a smile in place, as a murmured request for Greece to hold out his hands seemed to slip in and out of the quiet that surrounded them.
As he complied, Japan reached forward, pulling his hands apart so that the light returned, and the firefly seemed to take a moment to hover between them. It was gone a few seconds later though, back into the welcoming darkness.
The moment gone, Japan allowed his hands to fall at the same time Greece reached out, catching them in his own. Uncomprehending, the shorter nation glanced back to meet his gaze, and Greece could do nothing more than smile; “It’s a beautiful night.”
“It really is,” Japan agreed quietly, turning his gaze back towards the darkness, with the fireflies and the moon above their only source of light. The fact that he had yet to pull away from Greece’s hold spoke on so many levels (the barest hint of a squeeze telling him much more than words ever could).
Because even if they did have an eternity before them, he knew (long, long ago) that there would never be an exact moment like this ever again; but that was alright, really, as the future held so many promises. And even if he did forget - images blurred, words forgotten - Greece knew that he would always remember that warmth, while a couple of fireflies seemed to dance in the night sky.
The Little Things [14/15]
anonymous
January 16 2010, 10:01:31 UTC
fourteen: small gestures
Japan hesitated, unable to tear his gaze from the object that had captured his attention. Pochi barked pointedly, moving to nudge his owner, but the nation ignored him and stepped closer to the glass. School girls chatted animatedly behind him, taking a few seconds to glance at the products on display, before they continued on their way.
When Pochi gave another insistent bark, Japan bent down and gathered him in his arms, though his eyes remained focused on the large Hello Kitty doll. It was not the first time he had ever set eyes on it, and he could only suspect the reason for his interest was due to thinking about Greece’s actions the previous year, when they had been shopping for America’s birthday.
He had looked so hopeful as well, he mused, having never truly been able to wipe away the memory of Greece’s disappointment upon rejection of the present. It had been a barely perceptible gesture - more in the way his arms tightened slightly, the hope in his eyes fading at an instant - and almost had Japan apologising for reasons he did not completely understand.
It might have been because Greece liked cats, almost to the point where one could very well question how high it ranked in comparison to his need for human company. He enjoyed both equally, Japan knew for a fact, as there were certain things only one side was capable of; animal or human, both were important.
Personally, Japan found that he enjoyed the company of animals a little more than people at times; they were good for companionship, usually without being too demanding, and the nation found that he preferred that. That was not to say that he loathed human company, but even now he could not help but feel slightly overwhelmed by the differences between himself and his fellow nations (cultural or otherwise); such enthusiasm from Italy and America, especially, could make his head spin when he was not mentally prepared for it.
Of course, there were a number of nations he enjoyed spending time with, and his people were always there for him, though they were not truly aware of it. At the same time, Japan could not brush away the fact that some part of him, small as it was, really did cherish Greece’s company.
Perhaps it was the fact that it never felt as if they had to hold a conversation when together - sometimes there was nothing more than a simple greeting before the next few hours slipped away in comfortable silence - or the fact that Greece did not expect something from Japan; something he had, a long time ago, felt he could never give.
Then again, Japan might have been overanalysing again. It was not an entirely new realisation, and he reminded himself that there were more important chores to complete; the day was far from over, after all, while the list held loosely in his hand - the one Pochi continued to paw at - as well as the weight of the bag that hung from his arm were impossible to ignore. Besides that, he was certain his people were shooting him quizzical looks as they passed by, and it was a sure sign for him to continue on his way.
But even as the thought occurred, Pochi was back on the sidewalk; leash knotted neatly around a nearby fence, and a bell chimed as he entered the store.
It is almost Greece-san’s birthday, he reasoned as the door swung shut behind him. It was not unlike him to buy a gift for someone close to him, after all, and it was alright to do such things, once in a while; because even if the other nation did not require gifts for such a day, more than happy to spend it with his people and friends, there was no harm in it. Though Japan could only wonder, vaguely, if there was something missing in that thought process, as he accepted the carefully wrapped gift from the cashier.
No. That’s impossible, he decided firmly, as he stepped back outside and retrieved Pochi’s leash. But the extra package in his grasp seemed to insist otherwise, and Japan pondered over why a part of him questioned in the first place.
The Little Things [15a/15]
anonymous
January 16 2010, 10:09:15 UTC
fifteen: ai love you
In a way, it was almost impossible for Japan to work out how he had managed to end up where he was. He could remember snatches of conversation from days long gone, while shadows grew longer, constantly fluctuating with the stream of time as cats slinked in and out of sight; there, always there, almost as if they belonged.
The sun rose and fell with each passing day, always the same, and while he understood the concept of how quickly one’s relationship with another could change through a single gesture, Japan had never truly expected to find himself in such a situation. And as he watched Greece chase after a flock of cats, he could only wonder how it had happened.
Somehow, it was impossible to pinpoint an exact moment with clarity, and it was not without him wracking his brain (sifting through old conversations and visits that he could recall; such interactions that, as far as he could tell, made no indication of what was to come between them). But at the same time, Japan could find no true reason to protest against the shift in their relationship.
It was still, in many ways, an alien concept to him, despite how long he had lived. Intimacy with another was difficult - it was usually only him though; who hesitated and questioned, personal barriers set up so high it made him wonder why anyone cared - and he would never truly get used to it. To feel such emotions towards another individual, to care so deeply… an unconscious level of himself that Japan had tried so hard to insist that didn’t exist.
Even so, he had found himself closer to Greece than what would have been deemed appropriate, an eventual process that should have scared him more; questions that always seemed to lead to nowhere. Arms crossed, head tilted a fraction, Japan sought for an explanation towards his actions; at the lacking defensive mechanism he had come to accept as a part of him, long long ago.
And yet, hadn’t he asked that, years ago?
There was still no answer.
“-Japan?”
He blinked, snapped out of his train of thought as he met Greece’s curious gaze, three cats squirming in his arms. Flushing at the sudden realisation of how foolish he must have looked, so deep in thought, Japan bowed reflexively.
“I apologise. Was there something you wanted?” He asked the ground, unable to bring himself to look back up just yet.
“Ah, no, not really,” Greece hummed, “It was just that a cat ran right by your feet… You didn’t even seem to see him, was all.”
If his face had not been recognisably red before, Japan was certain it was more than obvious now; “A-ah, was that… I apologise, for being inattentive when-”
“That’s alright; he’ll come home when he wants to.” One could practically hear the smile in his reply; it was clear that some amusement had been found in the situation, as Japan stared at the ground and counted each breath he took, in an attempt to regain his composure.
Yet when he glanced back up to meet the other’s gaze, he could not help but smile, just a little, while Greece attempted to keep a hold of all three cats with one arm as he offered a hand. It was only polite to accept the gesture, Japan told himself, but a sudden thought caused him to hesitate, pulling back.
And part nine made complete sense in my brain. Because Japan. Just, fff, I need to stop listening to things on loop:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IgxvqmknSac
------
nine: clock lock works
Fingers trailed, aimlessly, across the table’s surface, while Japan watched Pochi wander out the room. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear the call of birds - welcoming another day, perhaps - though he knew it was nothing more than a useless observation. A single, steady beat against the table at the realisation; tap, tap, tap.
Perhaps it was time he returned to his chores, Japan told himself. It was not like he had any other guests to attend to, having just seen America off after a long week; politics and lengthy talks he was accustomed to, but their debates on the direction MMORPGs were heading to could take a lot out of a person, no matter how enthusiastic they were.
Still, a part of him could not help but find it amusing at how easily his life seemed to slip back into a familiar routine, as if the past week had not occurred.
He would rise at dawn, do the chores around the house, take care of Pochi, deal with any work passed to him, go out if there was any practical reason to, eat at the appropriate times, then retire for the night. Very rarely were such routines broken, aside from visits from other nations, or an urgent call concerning a recent matter he would already be aware of, and Japan had come to appreciate it.
That silence, the hours in which he could hear his thoughts and try to form them into words no one would hear-
And, sometimes, he would remember. Times when he had isolated himself from the world, when he had fought; hurting others, being hurt…
A part of Japan questioned himself over such matters, even as he stepped out of his house, sliding the door shut behind him. Life continued on, and he could only follow after it, to see where it would take him.
Days would pass, the same routine (over and over); no America to break the serenity, no England to talk about topics that may or may not have concerned them, no China to try and bring up days long gone - perhaps the closest thing to happier moments before the world reminded them of what they were - or Italy to drag him someplace, to enjoy life a little more.
No one to stop him. No one to break the monotony.
And Japan liked it; told himself he did, even as a gentle knock knock cut through the haze, and his stomach twisted for unknown reasons (a simple delivery, there and gone before another word was spoken).
This. This was-
So it made no sense, on that cloudy day, when he caught sight of a familiar group of cats that the bag he had been carrying dropped to the ground. His heart was not supposed to beat so loudly - too quickly - as he stepped forward, while Greece continued to stare at the doors, waiting for an answer.
His voice had been distant, though apparently loud enough for his unexpected guest to turn. The cats seemed more than happy to wind themselves around Japan’s feet, clearly wishing to be acknowledged, as Greece approached him.
Half-formed apologies (sudden decision, just thought-) were cut short when impulse drove Japan to step forward, closer than necessary, to wrap his arms around the other, realisation of his actions milliseconds too late. Before he could pull away, however, Greece returned the embrace, and Japan could only wonder when it had started.
The detachment from reality, despite his attempts to keep those he called friends close; a gradual process no one, not even himself, had noticed. Why, as days passed without a care in the world, he thought it had been alright.
And why did it hurt now; this realisation he might have welcomed, once upon a time? There was no answer to it, nothing that made sense, even as he pulled away with a murmured apology.
Greece merely took a hold of his hand, speaking as if nothing strange had occurred; “Welcome home.”
A different sort of silence, as Japan tightened his grip - pain still in his chest, unshed tears of frustration and relief (why? He did not know) as something else… - and managed a reply; “I’m home.”
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Though he swayed, just a little, and his lips twitched in something that may have been an amused smile, Japan insisted that he was not drunk, thank you very much. This earned a long, scrutinising look from Greece that would have made the island nation flush at the attention, had it been any other day.
It was not like he was a danger to anyone or himself, though, Greece knew; even now, Japan stepped forward with a deliberate amount of concentration, clearly unwilling to accept any external help on their trek back to his place. And it was incredibly rare to see Japan in this state, so much so that such situations could be counted on a single hand, despite the many years between them.
Greece stopped when Japan did, turning back to look at him for a moment, as if contemplating his next move. Then the barest hint of a shrug, a bow, as he turned once more and continued on his way; they were the only ones present, of course, the night their constant companion.
A warm night, almost heavy in its presence as it blanketed them, while Japan murmured a simple tune Greece recognised; a children’s rhyme, one of the first things the island nation had taught him long, long ago.
He might have joined in, but Greece really did prefer listening to the other, when he had the chance. The way Japan’s voice rose and fell - a little off, though it was barely noticeable - as he continued to walk with complete certainty, tone melancholic as he saw and heard things; remembered parts of his life Greece could only imagine.
Japan trailed off when they arrived at his place, cursed a little before Greece stepped forward to give him a hand, as they stepped inside. Though a part of him thought the island nation would merely wander off to bed, he was not completely surprised when Japan began muttering calculations and key combinations, as he entered the sitting room and pulled out one of his many consoles.
The fact he could play Soulcalibur while completely intoxicated, and still manage near-perfect wins, was a feat upon itself (the same could be said about Greece losing constantly against Japan during versus mode, even in such a state; it might have been due to the fact he did not take it quite as seriously as the other, though). Greece could recall mentioning it, once, only to have Japan mutter something about the weather and were Greece-san’s cats alright? to steer the conversation elsewhere.
A not-so-gentle prod in his shoulder jerked the brunet out of his thoughts, and he blinked, uncomprehending for a moment. Japan had his head tilted to the side, watching him almost curiously, while Greece stared at the paused game on-screen, trying to work out why it looked different. The realisation that he had drifted off came as no surprise, even as Japan drew back on his knees.
It was clear he had decided to stop for the night, as he instead watched Greece, fingers twisting in a familiar pattern; when the other wanted to say something, yet knew he could never really make himself do so.
“Japan?” He prompted, after half a minute passed without a word between them.
The island nation started, “Eh? Aa… um…” Silence, as he bit his lip, fingers still twisting, the barest hint of a slur in his words, “I… apologise. We should probably turn in for the night-”
Greece nodded to this, standing up as he offered Japan a hand. There was something endearing at the fact that he flushed heavily at this, as if suddenly aware of his previous actions - before their walk home, leaning forward; the lightest touch of lips against lips, fingers intertwined, before turning away and murmuring words that were still too hard to say at times - even as he accepted the gesture.
Next morning, Japan would reprimand himself, whether or not he remembered, even as Greece murmured reassurance that nothing terrible had happened (it was not unlike Japan to spend numerous nights playing games, after all). It was alright to be like that, once in a while, he would say, words repeated each and every time, until Japan managed a nod before he buried himself back under the sheets to deal with his hangover.
Then the cats would join in, as Greece took care of him, humming a rhyme he had heard long ago.
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“I apologise for calling so suddenly-…”
“That’s fine.” The sound of cats meowing in the background was clear, as the phone seemed to shift in his hold, “We’ve both been busy, so…” He trailed off, as if it were unnecessary for him to finish speaking.
Japan nodded though, could not help but do so, as he stared at the half-completed sentence of the transcript he had been working on; “I suppose… Have you been well?” His computer chimed an incoming message, but he chose to ignore it.
“Mm, well,” Greece hummed, “I’m managing. The cats are doing fine as well.” He added as an afterthought, before Japan could ask.
Another unseen nod, as fingers twisted into the folds of his yukata while the cursor onscreen moved around; click click. “I am sorry you are facing such difficult times right now. I…”
He trailed off, unsure as to how he was supposed to offer help to the other nation. It was not like they never faced issues with their own people - so many conflicting views and emotions, it was almost sad to see them fighting - and he was certain Greece would get through it. Like any other time.
Still, the guilt could not be swept away so easily.
“Japan?”
“Hm?” He stopped, blinked (ignored Italy’s email for the time being; it was not of high importance, after all, but he did enjoy such simple interactions), “Ah, I apologise.”
“No, you don’t need to apologise, I…” A yawn.
“Am… am I keeping you up late? If so…” Japan shifted in his seat, a fresh wave of guilt almost overwhelming him at the fact. But he had been careful to call at a respectable time on both sides, so…
Greece chuckled at this, as if knowing what was on Japan’s mind; “Don’t mind me. I’m enjoying this.”
“Eh?”
“I mean, talking to you.” It would not have surprised Japan if the other nation was smiling now. The cats seemed to be closer as well, clamouring about as they meowed into the phone, “I think they know who I’m talking to.”
Japan could not completely wipe the smile off his own face at the thought, “That would be impossible, Greece-san.”
“I wonder…”
Thoughtful silence, as Greece considered his words once more. Shifting in his seat, Japan turned away from the computer screen, watching the patterns created on the floor as sunlight filtered through.
“Perhaps…” he began slowly, hearing the nation on the other end hum, “if it is not too much of a problem for you, if I were to visit… I mean-”
“It is rather beautiful, this time of year. It would be nice to see you again as well,” Greece said, effectively cutting through the beginning of Japan’s panicked explanation of his words.
“Is that so. Then…” Japan stopped, as he caught sight of a recently sent email. With a muttered curse, he opened it, “I apologise, Greece-san, something urgent has come up, and I-”
“Hn, you don’t need to apologise. Just call when you have the time.”
“Y-yes…” Japan made no attempt to mask his smile, as he opened another window to compose his message, “Goodbye, then.”
“Goodbye.”
Click. The line went dead, as he set his phone aside. Rubbing his temples gently, Japan slid the chair closer to his desk, ready to deal with the problem and get it out of his way as soon as possible.
And then, once it was out of the way, he would-… Japan squashed the thoughts for the time being, as sunlit patterns on the floor remained ever changing, while time moved on.
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I teared up at part 9. FFFF you capture them so so well!
/sobs tears of happiness into Kleenex
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You capture them beautifully, anon. So beautifully that you leave me near incoherence and scrambling for things to say other than "Love love love it" or "This is why I love Greece/Japan."
I sort of imagine Japan to be the way you portray him - having all those subtle nuances and insecurities even as he tries to convince himself that they're not there - and you so perfectly captured the subtle feelings going on in there. Did I mention how great you are at the "subtle" thing with Greece and Japan? Because I find that it's all too easy to write them as flat and uninspired, and it takes something special put there to really make them shine. And you have that in spades.
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Ending at part 15 (as 20 would kill me, possibly) so… look forward to it?
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twelve: dear world
All the lights had been switched off as the low, distorted crackle from the radio remained the only source of distinct noise. The cats had gathered together, in an attempt to retain body heat, while snow drifted lazily outside.
“It’s almost the end of another year.”
Japan glanced over to Greece, shifting his hold on the blanket wrapped around them as they remained on the couch. He lifted it a fraction, allowing a kitten to join them as he spoke; “I suppose many would consider it a fresh start.”
Greece hummed at this, thoughtful, and shifted a fraction closer. Tucking his arms into his sleeves, Japan chose to remain ignorant of the action as he turned back to the scene before them.
It was a beautiful sight, despite the fact he had seen it many times before; snow covered everything it touched as it fell slowly, gradually. The quiet that accompanied it always left him feeling as if he were the only one to witness it, especially once the sun had set, his people out of sight.
The sense of loneliness that accompanied it could be overwhelming, quiet stifling, though Japan could never truly tear his gaze away from it all. Each time, when the day was over and he had little else to occupy his time with, he would watch, as seconds (minutes, hours) seemed to drag on.
Though there would be moments like these that reminded him otherwise, as the island nation felt Greece wrap an arm around his waist, tugging them closer together. Japan allowed it - they were the only ones present, save for the cats - and he welcomed the additional warmth.
“Have any resolutions for the new year?” Greece asked, and Japan blinked, allowing himself a moment to shift and find a comfortable position for the both of them, as some of the cats gathered by their feet joined the pair under the blanket.
“I suppose I can only resolve to continue to do my best,” he mused. Lacing his fingers together, Japan allowed one of the cats to crawl into his lap, “and to do well economically, as well as keep up good relations.”
The arm around his waist seemed to tighten a fraction, as Greece allowed his head to rest on the other’s shoulder, “And if I were to ask you the question, would it differ?”
“I-I wonder.” A cough, while Japan briefly contemplated shifting away (impossible as it was, with the cats pressed up against him and Greece’s arm still around his waist), “We have seen the coming and going of countless years, so in many ways it will just be another day for us.”
“Still, it does give you a moment to reflect over the past year.”
“That is true…” Japan trailed off, unsure of which direction their conversation was going, but when the other did not continue, he allowed his mind to wander.
In a way, it was strange to realise that another year was coming to a close, but there was always something to look forward to. It would be another beginning, as his people continued to grow and learn; reaching out, as words and decisions continued to remind him that it was not easy, and never had been.
Still, it was alright, Japan decided, to be able to just watch on like this, as the final rays of sunlight disappeared beneath the horizon. Neither found it necessary to move from their position; surrounded by cats, while the faint crackle of the radio remained untouched as the room darkened.
“… Greece-san?”
“Hm?” He shifted at this, stifling a yawn in the process. Japan bit his lip as he stared down at the outline of his hands, before ploughing on: it was now or never, he knew, as he would return home the next day, and they would be too busy to keep in contact for a while. Besides, it was just a question.
“Do you have any particular resolutions for the new year?”
In the silence that followed, Japan began to wonder if Greece had drifted off, before he felt the other move again. Closer this time, as the answer was whispered into his ear; a low chuckle, murmured words in reply - I should have known - while fingers intertwined, and they turned to watch as the snow continued to fall.
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You spoil us so. But happy happy holidays too dear~!
Another gorgeous gorgeous part. It's like watching these two from behind glass. Beautiful yet out of reach.
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Really, I'm so glad you're enjoying this, and I guess I'll just keep doing my best :D
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I wonder if Greece's "And if I were to ask you the question, would it differ?" meant "But what about you as the person, not the country?" Regardless, I love how you reveal just enough to establish the setting and characters but leave enough unsaid to show how familiar and comfortable the characters are with each other. Just the right dose of warmth for a cold December day.
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And as for Greece repeating the question; that was exactly what I was trying to convey (I did initially have him rephrasing it to ask Kiku, but ended up rewording it). I'm hoping people get that sort of impression - that he's asking it on a personal level, but not needing to be too specific, and that Japan understands. Or, at least, catches on the second time around.
... now I'm wondering if that actually makes sense. Eheh.
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Don't worry; you've got a knack for implying things like that with the two of them without going into needless explanation territory. So your explanation made perfect sense to me as our headcanons seem to be similar to each other.
And now I'm wondering if I know you. The more I think about it, the more familiar your writing style seems, and I know only one other fan who writes Giripan with any sort of regularity...
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And I’m glad it made sense, since there are times when I can’t help but wonder if my thoughts actually make much sense at all.
… a-ah, really? OTL A-ahahaha?
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thirteen: echo
He could see the moon’s reflection on the water, while fireflies seemed to sway in the welcoming darkness. It was a sight that Greece could do nothing more but appreciate, unable to tear his gaze away, even as Japan moved to take a seat beside him on the grass.
It seemed that, no matter how many times he was witness to such a scene, it would continue to remind him of how beautiful life really was. As years, centuries, blurred into each other - sometimes good, sometimes bad; not quite a balance between the two, as it was never that easy - being welcomed by a familiar sight was comforting.
It held nothing but good memories between friends; murmured conversations that led to nowhere, a moment that just existed.
Even so, it would only last for so long; the sun would rise once more, diminishing the night that almost protected them, while people prepared for the coming day. It was nothing more than a fact of life, and one they all accepted.
But at least, until that time came to an end, he would watch as each second seemed to slip by them.
It allowed him a moment to mull over how short mortality really was: how words and actions could occasionally be interpreted in so many ways, while views and beliefs differed from person to person. The same mistakes - time and again, no matter how many times one failed - that seemed to stretch out into forever, as they lived in a world that was always changing; developing, harnessing technology while buildings seemed to get higher (fireworks exploding from above) and sometimes it was difficult to keep track of it all.
So it was nice, to be able to sit and watch as everything seemed to slow down, a place that felt as if it they were nothing but observers to the rest of the world.
Perhaps it was only this place, this time, Greece mused; this little part of Japan that looked as if it had remained untouched throughout the years. While it was not uncommon for them to have at least one final connecting thread to days long gone, he knew that he would never tire of visiting this place (so different, so beautiful… so much like the nation who sat next to him).
He was certain Japan felt the same - about this place, and the untouched lands beyond the sea - as he glanced over the same moment a firefly chose to hover between them. Slowly, so as not to scare the insect away, the shorter nation reached out.
Like that, the light between them vanished; it could still be seen though, a dull glow between Japan’s fingers. For a moment, Greece was nothing more than a spectator, a witness to a side of Japan rarely seen. But the other nation turned to him, barest hint of a smile in place, as a murmured request for Greece to hold out his hands seemed to slip in and out of the quiet that surrounded them.
As he complied, Japan reached forward, pulling his hands apart so that the light returned, and the firefly seemed to take a moment to hover between them. It was gone a few seconds later though, back into the welcoming darkness.
The moment gone, Japan allowed his hands to fall at the same time Greece reached out, catching them in his own. Uncomprehending, the shorter nation glanced back to meet his gaze, and Greece could do nothing more than smile; “It’s a beautiful night.”
“It really is,” Japan agreed quietly, turning his gaze back towards the darkness, with the fireflies and the moon above their only source of light. The fact that he had yet to pull away from Greece’s hold spoke on so many levels (the barest hint of a squeeze telling him much more than words ever could).
Because even if they did have an eternity before them, he knew (long, long ago) that there would never be an exact moment like this ever again; but that was alright, really, as the future held so many promises. And even if he did forget - images blurred, words forgotten - Greece knew that he would always remember that warmth, while a couple of fireflies seemed to dance in the night sky.
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Japan hesitated, unable to tear his gaze from the object that had captured his attention. Pochi barked pointedly, moving to nudge his owner, but the nation ignored him and stepped closer to the glass. School girls chatted animatedly behind him, taking a few seconds to glance at the products on display, before they continued on their way.
When Pochi gave another insistent bark, Japan bent down and gathered him in his arms, though his eyes remained focused on the large Hello Kitty doll. It was not the first time he had ever set eyes on it, and he could only suspect the reason for his interest was due to thinking about Greece’s actions the previous year, when they had been shopping for America’s birthday.
He had looked so hopeful as well, he mused, having never truly been able to wipe away the memory of Greece’s disappointment upon rejection of the present. It had been a barely perceptible gesture - more in the way his arms tightened slightly, the hope in his eyes fading at an instant - and almost had Japan apologising for reasons he did not completely understand.
It might have been because Greece liked cats, almost to the point where one could very well question how high it ranked in comparison to his need for human company. He enjoyed both equally, Japan knew for a fact, as there were certain things only one side was capable of; animal or human, both were important.
Personally, Japan found that he enjoyed the company of animals a little more than people at times; they were good for companionship, usually without being too demanding, and the nation found that he preferred that. That was not to say that he loathed human company, but even now he could not help but feel slightly overwhelmed by the differences between himself and his fellow nations (cultural or otherwise); such enthusiasm from Italy and America, especially, could make his head spin when he was not mentally prepared for it.
Of course, there were a number of nations he enjoyed spending time with, and his people were always there for him, though they were not truly aware of it. At the same time, Japan could not brush away the fact that some part of him, small as it was, really did cherish Greece’s company.
Perhaps it was the fact that it never felt as if they had to hold a conversation when together - sometimes there was nothing more than a simple greeting before the next few hours slipped away in comfortable silence - or the fact that Greece did not expect something from Japan; something he had, a long time ago, felt he could never give.
Then again, Japan might have been overanalysing again. It was not an entirely new realisation, and he reminded himself that there were more important chores to complete; the day was far from over, after all, while the list held loosely in his hand - the one Pochi continued to paw at - as well as the weight of the bag that hung from his arm were impossible to ignore. Besides that, he was certain his people were shooting him quizzical looks as they passed by, and it was a sure sign for him to continue on his way.
But even as the thought occurred, Pochi was back on the sidewalk; leash knotted neatly around a nearby fence, and a bell chimed as he entered the store.
It is almost Greece-san’s birthday, he reasoned as the door swung shut behind him. It was not unlike him to buy a gift for someone close to him, after all, and it was alright to do such things, once in a while; because even if the other nation did not require gifts for such a day, more than happy to spend it with his people and friends, there was no harm in it. Though Japan could only wonder, vaguely, if there was something missing in that thought process, as he accepted the carefully wrapped gift from the cashier.
No. That’s impossible, he decided firmly, as he stepped back outside and retrieved Pochi’s leash. But the extra package in his grasp seemed to insist otherwise, and Japan pondered over why a part of him questioned in the first place.
It’s only a gift…
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In a way, it was almost impossible for Japan to work out how he had managed to end up where he was. He could remember snatches of conversation from days long gone, while shadows grew longer, constantly fluctuating with the stream of time as cats slinked in and out of sight; there, always there, almost as if they belonged.
The sun rose and fell with each passing day, always the same, and while he understood the concept of how quickly one’s relationship with another could change through a single gesture, Japan had never truly expected to find himself in such a situation. And as he watched Greece chase after a flock of cats, he could only wonder how it had happened.
Somehow, it was impossible to pinpoint an exact moment with clarity, and it was not without him wracking his brain (sifting through old conversations and visits that he could recall; such interactions that, as far as he could tell, made no indication of what was to come between them). But at the same time, Japan could find no true reason to protest against the shift in their relationship.
It was still, in many ways, an alien concept to him, despite how long he had lived. Intimacy with another was difficult - it was usually only him though; who hesitated and questioned, personal barriers set up so high it made him wonder why anyone cared - and he would never truly get used to it. To feel such emotions towards another individual, to care so deeply… an unconscious level of himself that Japan had tried so hard to insist that didn’t exist.
Even so, he had found himself closer to Greece than what would have been deemed appropriate, an eventual process that should have scared him more; questions that always seemed to lead to nowhere. Arms crossed, head tilted a fraction, Japan sought for an explanation towards his actions; at the lacking defensive mechanism he had come to accept as a part of him, long long ago.
And yet, hadn’t he asked that, years ago?
There was still no answer.
“-Japan?”
He blinked, snapped out of his train of thought as he met Greece’s curious gaze, three cats squirming in his arms. Flushing at the sudden realisation of how foolish he must have looked, so deep in thought, Japan bowed reflexively.
“I apologise. Was there something you wanted?” He asked the ground, unable to bring himself to look back up just yet.
“Ah, no, not really,” Greece hummed, “It was just that a cat ran right by your feet… You didn’t even seem to see him, was all.”
If his face had not been recognisably red before, Japan was certain it was more than obvious now; “A-ah, was that… I apologise, for being inattentive when-”
“That’s alright; he’ll come home when he wants to.” One could practically hear the smile in his reply; it was clear that some amusement had been found in the situation, as Japan stared at the ground and counted each breath he took, in an attempt to regain his composure.
Yet when he glanced back up to meet the other’s gaze, he could not help but smile, just a little, while Greece attempted to keep a hold of all three cats with one arm as he offered a hand. It was only polite to accept the gesture, Japan told himself, but a sudden thought caused him to hesitate, pulling back.
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