Re: The Language of Flowers (2/?)
anonymous
June 2 2009, 02:11:06 UTC
Since he had visited America only recently for the presentation of the sakura, Kiku hadn’t exactly been expecting to see Alfred any time soon. America’s reception of the trees had been politely enthusiastic and friendly, but the other man was apparently oblivious to any possible deeper meaning to the gift.
Japan had admired America-san since the other nation had first set foot on his shores, even if the great black ships had been rather frightening. He had hoped that the other might be amenable to closer ties, and take the gift as hint, though he had been almost relieved that Alfred was unlikely to catch his meaning. He could declare his feelings with little need to fear the consequences that might follow.
So it was that when Alfred showed up on his doorstep blushing and carrying a dozen red roses, Kiku was understandably a bit surprised, even disconcerted. Actually, he wondered why he hadn’t heard the racket of America’s new flying machine.
“Hey, Kiku! So, um, you gave me all those trees, and they’re really pretty and all, and, well, I wanted to give you something in return, to show that, well, I feel the same way, y’know? If you really meant what I think you mean, because if not we can totally forget this visit and you don’t have to worry about it or anything, I won’t be mad.” Blue eyes looked at him with all the hopefulness of a puppy, and really, even if he had been a bit disappointed by the way Alfred had seemed to ignore his intentions, there was no way he could have stayed mad. It was precisely this willingness to hope that had drawn Japan to him, bright as the sun.
As he paused to take a breath finally, Kiku opened his mouth to reassure Alfred that he did indeed have the right idea, judging by the Western meaning of the flowers he had brought, but the other man was still babbling nervously.
“But anyway, I, um, brought you some roses. They’re called American Beauty, and they only grow in my capital, so I thought they might be appropriate, ‘cause they’re kind of a symbol of me the way the sakura are a symbol of you, and if you like them, I brought a couple rootings as well, so you can have some for your garden.”
When Kiku was sure that this time, the tall blond really had finished speaking, he stepped back from the entrance and gave a polite bow. Really, America had startled him so much he had quite forgotten his manners. He was oddly good at doing that.
“America-san, come in. I am very sorry to have kept you outside, you must be tired from your journey here.” He was gratified when after a moment Alfred politely bowed back and followed him inside. Shoes were neatly left at the door, and he appreciated that even if America was clumsy about other cultures, he did try, and only had to be told these things once.
When they were settled beside a low table with appropriate refreshments, Japan addressed himself to the other man.
“I appreciate your thoughtfulness, America-san. Your gift is very welcome indeed.” The blush spreading across high cheekbones was really improbably attractive, Kiku thought. It was easy to forget sometimes that such a powerful nation was so very young.
Broad, callused hands held out the roses in response, and Kiku took them carefully, all too aware of the thorns that America’s gifts possessed. The familiarity of cool tatami mats he knelt on reassured him as this suddenly did not seem like such a good idea. It could be all too easy to lose himself in America, without anything but the best intentions from the other nation. But it was too late for such second thoughts now, and America had given him little reason to think his intentions less than honorable. Despite the risks, he could not deny the allure of this golden nation with his crimson roses.
“Would you like to visit the grove where the trees I gifted you came from? They are in bloom now.” Sky colored eyes light up, and Kiku allows himself a faint smile at Alfred’s enthusiasm.
Japan had admired America-san since the other nation had first set foot on his shores, even if the great black ships had been rather frightening. He had hoped that the other might be amenable to closer ties, and take the gift as hint, though he had been almost relieved that Alfred was unlikely to catch his meaning. He could declare his feelings with little need to fear the consequences that might follow.
So it was that when Alfred showed up on his doorstep blushing and carrying a dozen red roses, Kiku was understandably a bit surprised, even disconcerted. Actually, he wondered why he hadn’t heard the racket of America’s new flying machine.
“Hey, Kiku! So, um, you gave me all those trees, and they’re really pretty and all, and, well, I wanted to give you something in return, to show that, well, I feel the same way, y’know? If you really meant what I think you mean, because if not we can totally forget this visit and you don’t have to worry about it or anything, I won’t be mad.” Blue eyes looked at him with all the hopefulness of a puppy, and really, even if he had been a bit disappointed by the way Alfred had seemed to ignore his intentions, there was no way he could have stayed mad. It was precisely this willingness to hope that had drawn Japan to him, bright as the sun.
As he paused to take a breath finally, Kiku opened his mouth to reassure Alfred that he did indeed have the right idea, judging by the Western meaning of the flowers he had brought, but the other man was still babbling nervously.
“But anyway, I, um, brought you some roses. They’re called American Beauty, and they only grow in my capital, so I thought they might be appropriate, ‘cause they’re kind of a symbol of me the way the sakura are a symbol of you, and if you like them, I brought a couple rootings as well, so you can have some for your garden.”
When Kiku was sure that this time, the tall blond really had finished speaking, he stepped back from the entrance and gave a polite bow. Really, America had startled him so much he had quite forgotten his manners. He was oddly good at doing that.
“America-san, come in. I am very sorry to have kept you outside, you must be tired from your journey here.” He was gratified when after a moment Alfred politely bowed back and followed him inside. Shoes were neatly left at the door, and he appreciated that even if America was clumsy about other cultures, he did try, and only had to be told these things once.
When they were settled beside a low table with appropriate refreshments, Japan addressed himself to the other man.
“I appreciate your thoughtfulness, America-san. Your gift is very welcome indeed.” The blush spreading across high cheekbones was really improbably attractive, Kiku thought. It was easy to forget sometimes that such a powerful nation was so very young.
Broad, callused hands held out the roses in response, and Kiku took them carefully, all too aware of the thorns that America’s gifts possessed. The familiarity of cool tatami mats he knelt on reassured him as this suddenly did not seem like such a good idea. It could be all too easy to lose himself in America, without anything but the best intentions from the other nation. But it was too late for such second thoughts now, and America had given him little reason to think his intentions less than honorable. Despite the risks, he could not deny the allure of this golden nation with his crimson roses.
“Would you like to visit the grove where the trees I gifted you came from? They are in bloom now.” Sky colored eyes light up, and Kiku allows himself a faint smile at Alfred’s enthusiasm.
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