She hadn't meant to snoop, really. She'd been looking for something - now that she thought about it, she couldn't remember what - and had caught sight of it. Every country had a store room of their memories, some painful, others fond. Somehow, she'd walked straight into Japan's. it was filled with plated armor of bygone times, mounted katanas and brightly colored fans. Even his storage was not messy per se, only a little dusty. What stood out, and what truly drew her gaze was a slip of material peeking out of a drawer. She pulled it open, and what she found was a kimono. It was long, longer than the kinds of kimonos this day in age, more of the kind that she had seen in paintings from the Heian era. It was old, ancient even. She touched silk with reverence. There were pictures of cranes and flowers over the soft material to a dark background. Before she knew it, she was picking it up and holding it to herself.
"Taiwan-chan?" Japan called.
"Here!" she called out.
Japan came in a few moments later and his eyes riveted to herself.
"I guess I should've asked first," she said, a bit sheepish.
"No, no, it's fine," he said. "You'd...look lovely in that."
He nodded towards her. "Go on, put it on."
"I can't put it on myself," she said.
"I'll help you."
She pulled off her shirt, stepped out of her long skirt, unembarrassed in front of him. Together, they managed to put on the magnificent kimono.
"I feel like a princess," she murmured.
"You should," Japan said.
She caught her reflection in a dusty looking glass. She wanted to spin, making the beautiful colored cloth turn into a dizzying array of colors, but it was too heavy, unbearably heavy, until she wondered how anyone could live in this.
She smiled, glanced back as he placed his hands on her shoulders. He touched her hair lovingly, kissed the back of her head.
"This belonged to Murasaki Shikibu. They say it has never faded or fallen to ruin because it was magic, and given by a lover who was a god."
"Really?" That's amazing," she breathed.
"Gege says he treats me like a princess, but that's more a complaint than a compliment./"
"It's different," Japan said. "Entirely different."
He motioned for her to sit. When she did, he bent before her. He took one foot into his hands, and slipped off her pink ballet flats. He gently rubbed her foot between his hands, and traced pressure along her arch. It was just hard enough to not tickle her sensitive skin, for she was so very ticklish, and unlike Hong Kong or Korea, Japan would not take advantage of this. His hands were cool to the touch, but it was pleasant, and she felt tension she didn't even know she had slipping away. He bent to press a kiss to the top of her foot. It was gentle, light and made a flutter rise inside her.
"The Chanpurū, and Oshiruko, all for you, Taiwan-hime." He said it without mockery, all sincerity. "As long as it pleases you."
She could almost taste the sweet red bean soup with mochi cakes that made up Oshiruko, and the stir-fried Chanpurū which he would make for her so she wouldn't miss Gege's cooking while she was here.
She smiled. "It pleases me greatly," she said, playing along. He nuzzled close in a rare open display of affection, and gave her something like a smile.
http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/12046.html?thread=27180046#t27180046
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She hadn't meant to snoop, really. She'd been looking for something - now that she thought about it, she couldn't remember what - and had caught sight of it. Every country had a store room of their memories, some painful, others fond. Somehow, she'd walked straight into Japan's. it was filled with plated armor of bygone times, mounted katanas and brightly colored fans. Even his storage was not messy per se, only a little dusty. What stood out, and what truly drew her gaze was a slip of material peeking out of a drawer. She pulled it open, and what she found was a kimono. It was long, longer than the kinds of kimonos this day in age, more of the kind that she had seen in paintings from the Heian era. It was old, ancient even. She touched silk with reverence. There were pictures of cranes and flowers over the soft material to a dark background. Before she knew it, she was picking it up and holding it to herself.
"Taiwan-chan?" Japan called.
"Here!" she called out.
Japan came in a few moments later and his eyes riveted to herself.
"I guess I should've asked first," she said, a bit sheepish.
"No, no, it's fine," he said. "You'd...look lovely in that."
He nodded towards her. "Go on, put it on."
"I can't put it on myself," she said.
"I'll help you."
She pulled off her shirt, stepped out of her long skirt, unembarrassed in front of him. Together, they managed to put on the magnificent kimono.
"I feel like a princess," she murmured.
"You should," Japan said.
She caught her reflection in a dusty looking glass. She wanted to spin, making the beautiful colored cloth turn into a dizzying array of colors, but it was too heavy, unbearably heavy, until she wondered how anyone could live in this.
She smiled, glanced back as he placed his hands on her shoulders. He touched her hair lovingly, kissed the back of her head.
"This belonged to Murasaki Shikibu. They say it has never faded or fallen to ruin because it was magic, and given by a lover who was a god."
"Really?" That's amazing," she breathed.
"Gege says he treats me like a princess, but that's more a complaint than a compliment./"
"It's different," Japan said. "Entirely different."
He motioned for her to sit. When she did, he bent before her. He took one foot into his hands, and slipped off her pink ballet flats. He gently rubbed her foot between his hands, and traced pressure along her arch. It was just hard enough to not tickle her sensitive skin, for she was so very ticklish, and unlike Hong Kong or Korea, Japan would not take advantage of this. His hands were cool to the touch, but it was pleasant, and she felt tension she didn't even know she had slipping away. He bent to press a kiss to the top of her foot. It was gentle, light and made a flutter rise inside her.
"The Chanpurū, and Oshiruko, all for you, Taiwan-hime." He said it without mockery, all sincerity. "As long as it pleases you."
She could almost taste the sweet red bean soup with mochi cakes that made up Oshiruko, and the stir-fried Chanpurū which he would make for her so she wouldn't miss Gege's cooking while she was here.
She smiled. "It pleases me greatly," she said, playing along. He nuzzled close in a rare open display of affection, and gave her something like a smile.
"Your wish is my command."
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yesssss--Japan as epic sincere prince is the best thing ever for the sap in everyone!!! Such a sweet fill *__*
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