Summer Daze [2/6]
anonymous
May 23 2009, 23:13:03 UTC
Yong-soo waves Kiku absentmindedly to a room before going off to make tea. Japan realizes that it’s his office, which looks odd filled with western furniture, including a massive desktop with two monitors. Pieces of a laptop are scattered across one table and one wall is filled with a massive white board that seems to be mostly covered in doodles and nonsense, including a very amusing but not very flattering caricature of England’s eyebrows. Oddly enough, a futon is shoved against one wall, covered with a light blanket.
Yong-soo comes in with a tray with two long glasses of iced coffee. “I hope you don’t mind. It’s too damn hot to heat the water for tea,” he says cheerfully, setting it on his desk and offering one to Kiku.
“It is not trouble at all… thank you.” Japan accepts the glass and continues to look around the room as South Korea, in his usual brazen manner, opens the bag of taiyaki and immediately shoves one of the red-bean filled rounds into his mouth. Fortunately, these were the plain sort, not the ones stamped with chrysanthemums.
For lack of anything better to say, Japan asks, “What are you working on?” Korea turns on one of the music players on one of the two monitors and strains of Bi fill the air.
“New immigration quotas,” Yong-soo replies absentmindedly. “And imports on computer parts and microchips…” He types something in a flurry of clattering keys.
Unable to think of anything to say, Kiku looks at the white board again, seeing drawings of Final Fantasy characters mixed in there, little super deformed sprites for Ragnarok. He isn’t sure whether to be flattered or not, particularly at the creative reinterpretation of Cloud’s hair. The ice coffee, cold and sweet and fragrant, is gone before he realizes it and he sighs, going to put the empty glass on the tray. Then he stops in his tracks.
Yong-soo had put on a pair of titanium rimmed glasses while Japan had been occupied with the doodles. They are elegant things, half-rimmed and rectangular with softened edges. And what a change just a simple accessory did. Kiku stares for almost a full minute, the glass almost sliding out of his suddenly boneless fingers.
“I… I never knew you wore glasses,” he says, hoping his voice doesn’t crack. It doesn’t. But it drops a half-octave or so.
“Occasionally I need them,” Yong-soo replies, eyes fixed on his computer screen. With the glasses, he looks competent, intelligent… modern. Even with his wrinkled t-shirt and old jeans, his comfortable slouch in his computer chair, he suddenly looks so much older, so much more mature.
“I… see.” Kiku puts the glass down before he drops it and leaves ice and glass all over the surprisingly clean floor.
Yong-soo looks up at him after a moment, blinking slowly. “You’re all red.” He lifts his hand to take off his glasses.
“Don’t do that, please,” Japan blurts out with a blush.
Korea gives him a confused look and round cheeks flush further in mortification. So instead, fingers push the glasses further up the bridge of his nose.
“Is there anything you wanted in particular?” asks Yong-soo after a moment, going through a massive file on his desk. “Not to be rude or anything.” He shuffles through papers in both English and in Korean.
“I…” What had he come here for anyways? He finds it very hard to think, suddenly. Perhaps it’s because of all the blood rushing out of his head to somewhere else. “Can’t I just check on you?” is the first, almost brusque reply he can come up with.
Summer Daze [3/6]
anonymous
May 23 2009, 23:13:35 UTC
Yong-soo blinks behind his lenses. “Ah. I see. Good to know you actually do care,” he says with an unexpectedly wry smile.
“…think what you wish,” Kiku replies steadily, before wincing. Not the brightest thing to say to this particular brother.
“Stay over for dinner then,” Yong-soo says, going back to his computer screens. “I have some kalbi in the fridge. The cucumbers are in season too.”
“If it is not any trouble…”
“So long as you bow to the superiority of Korean barbecue.” The words are not meant to hurt or insult Japan and despite the initial flurry of indignation, Kiku calms down enough to accept the words as they were. Besides, Yong-soo really can cook, when he puts his mind to it, particularly during the summer.
“…how long have you been wearing glasses?” asks Japan after a moment, unable to help himself. And why haven’t I seen you wearing them?
“Hm? Glasses? Oh… I think I started around 1955,” says Korea after a few moments of thought. “Probably around the same time I started smoking.”
It makes Japan wince. “You are still doing that?”
“It’s not as if I get lung cancer,” points out Korea rather reasonably. “Look at England. He’s been doing it for the last… five hundred years, I think.”
“Still…” frowns Japan, not very surprised. “It is not a healthy habit.”
“It’s the kimchi,” says Yong-soo proudly. “And the garlic and lots and lots of tea.” He picks up his forgotten glass of ice coffee and takes a long swallow.
“…And all that soju?” It isn’t like Japan to be very snarky (as England puts it) but he cannot resist.
“I have an iron liver,” grins Korea. “You know that.”
Kiku ruefully remembers the last time they’d had drinks and promptly slams the door on those memories, no matter how faint they were (thank God he’d managed to smash his brother’s camera that night…). The conversation falters and dies between them as Yong-soo continues typing away at his computer.
“I haven’t seen you wear them,” Japan remarks.
“I only need them every so often,” South Korea replies.
“You look… They suit you.”
The sounds of typing stop suddenly and red-brown eyes meet Kiku’s own dark ones. Ah, he’d forgotten what color his brother’s eyes were, in the right light. Red-brown and flecked with the barest bit of amber, rimmed in very dark blue that is not quite black, the eyes only magnified further with the lenses. A smile always plays on Yong-soo’s lips but this one looks almost sly.
“Why Kiku,” he says, playfully. “Are you flirting with me?” The red-brown eyes look over the gun-metal frames in mock-sternness.
Japan sputters indignantly for a few minutes as South Korea breaks his own demeanor of seriousness by laughing his ass off for about a minute straight. Once both recover, they stare at each other across the room.
“What I meant to say is… glasses look good on you,” Japan says as gruffly as he can, resisting the urge to turn his face away. He is not going to make a fool of himself here, he tells himself. No way is he going to let his brother get the best of him… Then he heads over to Yong-soo’s desk, going around it and standing in front of him.
Summer Daze [4/6]
anonymous
May 23 2009, 23:14:11 UTC
The personification of South Korea looks mildly up at him, still smiling mischievously. Kiku then leans over and kisses him, just to wipe that smug grin off his brother’s lips and before his conscience can protest. To his own self-satisfaction, he notes that the taller nation seems to be surprised at the gesture but sadly recovers far too quickly. The two of them pull away after what seems to be only a second, Japan’s face flushed pink with embarrassment and arousal.
Yong-soo’s fingers immediately start unbuttoning his brother’s shirt, even as the smaller nation yelps and tries to pull away. Warm and textured fingertips trail along Japan’s pale chest, not groping but caressing, with far more finesse than he ever would have attributed to the far too familiar Korea. A mirthful grin continues to split the good-natured face as those surprisingly strong hands continue to drink their fill of the soft skin exposed to the suddenly warm room.
They kiss again, Kiku’s fingers pulling at Yong-soo’s flyaway dark hair out of pique and out of desire to feel those surprisingly soft strands in between his fingers. Their lips smash against each other, tongues dueling in a manner that would have surprised anyone else, should they have witnesses. Korea full on gropes Japan’s ass shamelessly, making the smaller nation yelp and scowl just a little. By the time they pull away, the lenses are just a little fogged up, hiding laughing eyes.
Kiku finds himself tugging Yong-soo over to the futon against the wall, cheeks flushed in slow realization of what he is doing. All because of those damn glasses. Those damn glasses…
Japan would curse his accursed fetish for the things except he’s growing past caring as their clothes go flying everywhere across the room. Korea’s mouth latches onto his nipple and he gasps, arching upwards and his hands pulling on the unruly dark hair again. Yong-soo is strong and lanky and oddly compact for his height, muscles now strongly defined against his longer limbs. In no way can he be mistaken for a woman or even androgynous, something that almost makes Kiku jealous. But those thoughts go flying out of his head as the mouth goes to the other, neglected nipple.
In the summer heat, they do not go languidly, gracefully. That is also not his brother’s style. No, it’s passionate and heated, a little clumsy, all limbs going everywhere and surprisingly controlled strength. Japan gasps for breath as hands roughened from gardening and industry, from archery and pottery, grab around his erection and start pumping it. He writhes, wondering just where his brother gained this sort of experience… His eyes remain partially open, little dark slits, seeing the glasses precariously balanced upon a nose, the expression behind them laughing and contemplative and absent-minded. Time seems to jump from moment to moment and he yelps a little as a suddenly-slick finger wriggles into him.
‘Who kept lubricant in their home office?’ he wonders absurdly before gasping as it turns around in him, crooking forwards. Biting his lower lip, he feels another hand gripping around his thigh, keeping him down. The glasses continue to glint in the light and the air already smells of sex, as more fingers wriggle into him.
Summer Daze [5/6]
anonymous
May 23 2009, 23:14:49 UTC
“Are you ready?” comes a hoarse, husky voice that he dimly recognizes. Japan nods, breathless.
When Yong-soo first enters him, it stings. He bites the inside of his cheek and concentrates on Korea’s absurdly serious face. Still, he breathes with difficulty, his exhales mingling with shameful little whimpers. His brother bends down to kiss his lips gently and affectionately. “Sorry,” mutters that same hoarse voice in genuine contrition.
Kiku finds himself smiling, despite the uncomfortable sensation. He grips Yong-soo’s shoulders and wordlessly urges him to move. Korea’s first thrusts are slow, hesitant, clumsy; Japan can feel his brother holding back, not wanting to hurt him. First it’s considerate but then it becomes frustrating and he digs fingernails harder and harder into the broad shoulders.
A hiss of pain punctuates the air in the room, the upbeat melodies of Korean pop still playing in the background, and red-brown eyes glare down just a little indignantly. Japan only digs in his nails further, urging him on faster. Getting the message, Yong-soo moves harder and faster, hips colliding into Kiku violently. Their groans and gasps mingle and sweat beads on their skin. Someone’s hand reaches between them, trembling, wrapping around Japan’s erection and starts pumping in rhythm with the thrusts.
It is over far too quickly, as they both climax, almost about the same time, both crying out each other’s names or mere indistinct words. Japan opens his eyes wide enough to see Yong-soo pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose again, managing a wide, smug grin. They remain entwined together for a while, but not too long because they’re sweaty and sticky and way too hot.
“So next time, maybe you can wear a school uniform?” Korea quips with a grin.
Summer Daze [Notes/6]
anonymous
May 23 2009, 23:17:13 UTC
Notes:
Mugoonghwa are the national flowers of Korea, also known as the Rose of Sharon or hibiscus syriacus. Interestingly enough, they mean “immortality.” And yes, many bushes of these flowers were burned during Japanese occupation.
Jindo dogs are a mid-sized dog bred for hunting in Korea, one of the few original breeds of Korea. They look rather like Shiba Inu but there are several marked differences, which include the size (Jindo dogs are somewhat bigger than Shiba Inu). Jindo dogs are highly prized for their loyalty to their masters and family as well as their intelligence, and are considered symbols of Korea as well as national treasures.
I couldn’t resist giving Yong-soo a dog. Because Jindo dogs are so freaking cute (The Korean author is so not biased in any way, shape or form…). No, Yong-soo’s dog is not named after the video game character; she’s a shout-out to my cousin’s dog.
Taiyaki and Boong-o bbang are pretty much the same thing, which are cakes made of waffle or pancake batter filled with red bean paste. Taiyaki tend to be round disks which were sometimes stamped with a chrystanthemum flower and Boong-o bbang are fish shaped.
That was awesome and sexy and hilarious and adorable and all around amazing! 8D and I love dogs...so bringing up Cloud made me giggle. This was seriously great. They seemed so natural and pleasant together and you're writing style flows very nicely with the story. Nothing felt rushed and I was just grinning during the whole thing (your description of the glasses is starting to make me have a fetish).
^_^ I had a hard time with this and even as I put it up I had misgivings about the build-up and possibly not enough time fixed on said glasses. I'm glad you like it though!
Mmm... Korea makes some very, very nice glasses (considering a pretty high percentage of the population needs them!).
o.o That's not worth thinking about, to be honest... There's enough freaking division over territories and sovereignty in East Asia as it is, particularly between Japan and South Korea.
Fluff is gratifying to write every so often, yes. ^_^
And yes, they're freaking ADORABLE. I love them. They're very, very good guard dogs.
They don't taste that different from each other. And Boong-o bbang made from different shops will end up tasting different, depending on the batter they use.
Re: Summer Daze [Notes/6]
anonymous
May 28 2009, 21:13:06 UTC
Wheee, this is so good! Honestly, canon!S.Korea makes me somewhat distressed (really, Hidekaz, does Korea need yet another reason to dislike Japan? Really?), but I love love looooove your S.Korea~ So perfect! I like the mix of traditional and the technology. And awkward Japan is adorable, too~
But... taiyaki are fish-shaped. "Tai" means "sea bream", and "yaki" means "fried". Not that there can't be other shapes, but they are predominantly fishy. XD Still tasty as all getout, though.
Geh... I got careless! Thank you for pointing that out to me. I was talking about the round ones... imagayaki, I believe (-is too lazy to look it up-). Thus, I fail...
-shrugs- Yeah, he bugs the hell out of me too. But then again, a lot of Koreans bug the hell out of me and I'm Korean. I'm glad you like him! I don't think he's an idiot at all (you have to be pretty damn smart to have built up your economy to the top twenty-five in only fifty years!) but he does try to keep to his roots, hence his house.
XD Oh, Japan is so emotionally retarded, it's almost not even funny. Thanks!
Re: Summer Daze [Notes/6]
anonymous
August 6 2010, 02:48:44 UTC
-fans self- This anon is very pleased... ReCaptcha: Experienced school Korea appears to be very experienced... And wants Japan in a school uniform. Heh.
Yong-soo comes in with a tray with two long glasses of iced coffee. “I hope you don’t mind. It’s too damn hot to heat the water for tea,” he says cheerfully, setting it on his desk and offering one to Kiku.
“It is not trouble at all… thank you.” Japan accepts the glass and continues to look around the room as South Korea, in his usual brazen manner, opens the bag of taiyaki and immediately shoves one of the red-bean filled rounds into his mouth. Fortunately, these were the plain sort, not the ones stamped with chrysanthemums.
For lack of anything better to say, Japan asks, “What are you working on?” Korea turns on one of the music players on one of the two monitors and strains of Bi fill the air.
“New immigration quotas,” Yong-soo replies absentmindedly. “And imports on computer parts and microchips…” He types something in a flurry of clattering keys.
Unable to think of anything to say, Kiku looks at the white board again, seeing drawings of Final Fantasy characters mixed in there, little super deformed sprites for Ragnarok. He isn’t sure whether to be flattered or not, particularly at the creative reinterpretation of Cloud’s hair. The ice coffee, cold and sweet and fragrant, is gone before he realizes it and he sighs, going to put the empty glass on the tray. Then he stops in his tracks.
Yong-soo had put on a pair of titanium rimmed glasses while Japan had been occupied with the doodles. They are elegant things, half-rimmed and rectangular with softened edges. And what a change just a simple accessory did. Kiku stares for almost a full minute, the glass almost sliding out of his suddenly boneless fingers.
“I… I never knew you wore glasses,” he says, hoping his voice doesn’t crack. It doesn’t. But it drops a half-octave or so.
“Occasionally I need them,” Yong-soo replies, eyes fixed on his computer screen. With the glasses, he looks competent, intelligent… modern. Even with his wrinkled t-shirt and old jeans, his comfortable slouch in his computer chair, he suddenly looks so much older, so much more mature.
“I… see.” Kiku puts the glass down before he drops it and leaves ice and glass all over the surprisingly clean floor.
Yong-soo looks up at him after a moment, blinking slowly. “You’re all red.” He lifts his hand to take off his glasses.
“Don’t do that, please,” Japan blurts out with a blush.
Korea gives him a confused look and round cheeks flush further in mortification. So instead, fingers push the glasses further up the bridge of his nose.
“Is there anything you wanted in particular?” asks Yong-soo after a moment, going through a massive file on his desk. “Not to be rude or anything.” He shuffles through papers in both English and in Korean.
“I…” What had he come here for anyways? He finds it very hard to think, suddenly. Perhaps it’s because of all the blood rushing out of his head to somewhere else. “Can’t I just check on you?” is the first, almost brusque reply he can come up with.
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“…think what you wish,” Kiku replies steadily, before wincing. Not the brightest thing to say to this particular brother.
“Stay over for dinner then,” Yong-soo says, going back to his computer screens. “I have some kalbi in the fridge. The cucumbers are in season too.”
“If it is not any trouble…”
“So long as you bow to the superiority of Korean barbecue.” The words are not meant to hurt or insult Japan and despite the initial flurry of indignation, Kiku calms down enough to accept the words as they were. Besides, Yong-soo really can cook, when he puts his mind to it, particularly during the summer.
“…how long have you been wearing glasses?” asks Japan after a moment, unable to help himself. And why haven’t I seen you wearing them?
“Hm? Glasses? Oh… I think I started around 1955,” says Korea after a few moments of thought. “Probably around the same time I started smoking.”
It makes Japan wince. “You are still doing that?”
“It’s not as if I get lung cancer,” points out Korea rather reasonably. “Look at England. He’s been doing it for the last… five hundred years, I think.”
“Still…” frowns Japan, not very surprised. “It is not a healthy habit.”
“It’s the kimchi,” says Yong-soo proudly. “And the garlic and lots and lots of tea.” He picks up his forgotten glass of ice coffee and takes a long swallow.
“…And all that soju?” It isn’t like Japan to be very snarky (as England puts it) but he cannot resist.
“I have an iron liver,” grins Korea. “You know that.”
Kiku ruefully remembers the last time they’d had drinks and promptly slams the door on those memories, no matter how faint they were (thank God he’d managed to smash his brother’s camera that night…). The conversation falters and dies between them as Yong-soo continues typing away at his computer.
“I haven’t seen you wear them,” Japan remarks.
“I only need them every so often,” South Korea replies.
“You look… They suit you.”
The sounds of typing stop suddenly and red-brown eyes meet Kiku’s own dark ones. Ah, he’d forgotten what color his brother’s eyes were, in the right light. Red-brown and flecked with the barest bit of amber, rimmed in very dark blue that is not quite black, the eyes only magnified further with the lenses. A smile always plays on Yong-soo’s lips but this one looks almost sly.
“Why Kiku,” he says, playfully. “Are you flirting with me?” The red-brown eyes look over the gun-metal frames in mock-sternness.
Japan sputters indignantly for a few minutes as South Korea breaks his own demeanor of seriousness by laughing his ass off for about a minute straight. Once both recover, they stare at each other across the room.
“What I meant to say is… glasses look good on you,” Japan says as gruffly as he can, resisting the urge to turn his face away. He is not going to make a fool of himself here, he tells himself. No way is he going to let his brother get the best of him… Then he heads over to Yong-soo’s desk, going around it and standing in front of him.
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Yong-soo’s fingers immediately start unbuttoning his brother’s shirt, even as the smaller nation yelps and tries to pull away. Warm and textured fingertips trail along Japan’s pale chest, not groping but caressing, with far more finesse than he ever would have attributed to the far too familiar Korea. A mirthful grin continues to split the good-natured face as those surprisingly strong hands continue to drink their fill of the soft skin exposed to the suddenly warm room.
They kiss again, Kiku’s fingers pulling at Yong-soo’s flyaway dark hair out of pique and out of desire to feel those surprisingly soft strands in between his fingers. Their lips smash against each other, tongues dueling in a manner that would have surprised anyone else, should they have witnesses. Korea full on gropes Japan’s ass shamelessly, making the smaller nation yelp and scowl just a little. By the time they pull away, the lenses are just a little fogged up, hiding laughing eyes.
Kiku finds himself tugging Yong-soo over to the futon against the wall, cheeks flushed in slow realization of what he is doing. All because of those damn glasses. Those damn glasses…
Japan would curse his accursed fetish for the things except he’s growing past caring as their clothes go flying everywhere across the room. Korea’s mouth latches onto his nipple and he gasps, arching upwards and his hands pulling on the unruly dark hair again. Yong-soo is strong and lanky and oddly compact for his height, muscles now strongly defined against his longer limbs. In no way can he be mistaken for a woman or even androgynous, something that almost makes Kiku jealous. But those thoughts go flying out of his head as the mouth goes to the other, neglected nipple.
In the summer heat, they do not go languidly, gracefully. That is also not his brother’s style. No, it’s passionate and heated, a little clumsy, all limbs going everywhere and surprisingly controlled strength. Japan gasps for breath as hands roughened from gardening and industry, from archery and pottery, grab around his erection and start pumping it. He writhes, wondering just where his brother gained this sort of experience… His eyes remain partially open, little dark slits, seeing the glasses precariously balanced upon a nose, the expression behind them laughing and contemplative and absent-minded. Time seems to jump from moment to moment and he yelps a little as a suddenly-slick finger wriggles into him.
‘Who kept lubricant in their home office?’ he wonders absurdly before gasping as it turns around in him, crooking forwards. Biting his lower lip, he feels another hand gripping around his thigh, keeping him down. The glasses continue to glint in the light and the air already smells of sex, as more fingers wriggle into him.
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When Yong-soo first enters him, it stings. He bites the inside of his cheek and concentrates on Korea’s absurdly serious face. Still, he breathes with difficulty, his exhales mingling with shameful little whimpers. His brother bends down to kiss his lips gently and affectionately. “Sorry,” mutters that same hoarse voice in genuine contrition.
Kiku finds himself smiling, despite the uncomfortable sensation. He grips Yong-soo’s shoulders and wordlessly urges him to move. Korea’s first thrusts are slow, hesitant, clumsy; Japan can feel his brother holding back, not wanting to hurt him. First it’s considerate but then it becomes frustrating and he digs fingernails harder and harder into the broad shoulders.
A hiss of pain punctuates the air in the room, the upbeat melodies of Korean pop still playing in the background, and red-brown eyes glare down just a little indignantly. Japan only digs in his nails further, urging him on faster. Getting the message, Yong-soo moves harder and faster, hips colliding into Kiku violently. Their groans and gasps mingle and sweat beads on their skin. Someone’s hand reaches between them, trembling, wrapping around Japan’s erection and starts pumping in rhythm with the thrusts.
It is over far too quickly, as they both climax, almost about the same time, both crying out each other’s names or mere indistinct words. Japan opens his eyes wide enough to see Yong-soo pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose again, managing a wide, smug grin. They remain entwined together for a while, but not too long because they’re sweaty and sticky and way too hot.
“So next time, maybe you can wear a school uniform?” Korea quips with a grin.
Japan throws the pillow at him.
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Mugoonghwa are the national flowers of Korea, also known as the Rose of Sharon or hibiscus syriacus. Interestingly enough, they mean “immortality.” And yes, many bushes of these flowers were burned during Japanese occupation.
Jindo dogs are a mid-sized dog bred for hunting in Korea, one of the few original breeds of Korea. They look rather like Shiba Inu but there are several marked differences, which include the size (Jindo dogs are somewhat bigger than Shiba Inu). Jindo dogs are highly prized for their loyalty to their masters and family as well as their intelligence, and are considered symbols of Korea as well as national treasures.
I couldn’t resist giving Yong-soo a dog. Because Jindo dogs are so freaking cute (The Korean author is so not biased in any way, shape or form…). No, Yong-soo’s dog is not named after the video game character; she’s a shout-out to my cousin’s dog.
Taiyaki and Boong-o bbang are pretty much the same thing, which are cakes made of waffle or pancake batter filled with red bean paste. Taiyaki tend to be round disks which were sometimes stamped with a chrystanthemum flower and Boong-o bbang are fish shaped.
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That was awesome and sexy and hilarious and adorable and all around amazing! 8D and I love dogs...so bringing up Cloud made me giggle. This was seriously great. They seemed so natural and pleasant together and you're writing style flows very nicely with the story. Nothing felt rushed and I was just grinning during the whole thing (your description of the glasses is starting to make me have a fetish).
Awesome job!
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Mmm... Korea makes some very, very nice glasses (considering a pretty high percentage of the population needs them!).
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Now, I'm wondering if the two could give birth to a new country, what will it be like?
Though I think there are more than enough countries in East Asia already...
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But I'm glad you liked it!
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And I looked up Jindo dogs upon reading this. SO. CUTE. Great job!
I wanna try Taiyaki and Boong-o bbang now. To compare tastes.
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And yes, they're freaking ADORABLE. I love them. They're very, very good guard dogs.
They don't taste that different from each other. And Boong-o bbang made from different shops will end up tasting different, depending on the batter they use.
Thanks!
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But... taiyaki are fish-shaped. "Tai" means "sea bream", and "yaki" means "fried". Not that there can't be other shapes, but they are predominantly fishy. XD Still tasty as all getout, though.
captcha: handier in Oh my~
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-shrugs- Yeah, he bugs the hell out of me too. But then again, a lot of Koreans bug the hell out of me and I'm Korean. I'm glad you like him! I don't think he's an idiot at all (you have to be pretty damn smart to have built up your economy to the top twenty-five in only fifty years!) but he does try to keep to his roots, hence his house.
XD Oh, Japan is so emotionally retarded, it's almost not even funny. Thanks!
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ReCaptcha: Experienced school
Korea appears to be very experienced... And wants Japan in a school uniform. Heh.
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