[Fanfiction] "Purple Mountains' Majesty"
Title: Purple Mountains' Majesty
Characters: Japan/fem!America
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Kiku's Internal Thought Theatre
sholmesian preguntó: prompt, Amelia catches Kiku wearing elevator shoes, lmao
The two of them are in, by some twist of fate, in an elevator slowly rising to the top floor because that is where Germany’s hotel staff saw fit to room them. They aren’t talking, as a matter of habit for Japan and because she hasn’t thought of anything to say on America’s part, but the silence isn’t all that awkward.
Japan’s privately glad that America had foregone her usual midriff-baring attire to dress more conservatively for this meeting in a well-tailored high-waisted pencil skirt and a simple white button-down that had England spluttering in dismay for reasons Japan couldn’t fathom, save for the fact that Western clothing tended to be tight as a rule-
Then America lifted her arms above her head to stretch and he suddenly understood the reason for England’s loud protests.
Still though, he thought, amazing how a change of clothes could change a person so much-
“Holy shit, I feel like my feet are about to secede from the Union,” America complained loudly, shifting her weight from foot to foot testily. Japan hastily amended his internal theatre to add that a change of clothes really did only change outward appearance.
With an irritable sigh, America leaned over to remove her stilettos (and Japan was again assaulted by phantoms of England screeching in mortal offense at so much of America’s “purple mountains’ majesty” being bared to the public), heaving a sigh of relief at her feet’s newly found freedom.
She turned to Japan with her signature 1000-watt smile, before the expression changed quickly to one of consternation. Japan stared back at her with a placid expression, quietly mystified and unable to fathom a reason for America touching the top of her head, extending her arm until the side of her palm touched the elevator wall, and staring at him intently.
“Japan,” she said slowly. Instinctively, he took a small step backwards at her intense expression.
“Yes?”
“Now don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but I gotta ask you something, okay?”
“…yes?”
“Are you wearing heels?”
Characters: Japan/fem!America
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Kiku's Internal Thought Theatre
sholmesian preguntó: prompt, Amelia catches Kiku wearing elevator shoes, lmao
The two of them are in, by some twist of fate, in an elevator slowly rising to the top floor because that is where Germany’s hotel staff saw fit to room them. They aren’t talking, as a matter of habit for Japan and because she hasn’t thought of anything to say on America’s part, but the silence isn’t all that awkward.
Japan’s privately glad that America had foregone her usual midriff-baring attire to dress more conservatively for this meeting in a well-tailored high-waisted pencil skirt and a simple white button-down that had England spluttering in dismay for reasons Japan couldn’t fathom, save for the fact that Western clothing tended to be tight as a rule-
Then America lifted her arms above her head to stretch and he suddenly understood the reason for England’s loud protests.
Still though, he thought, amazing how a change of clothes could change a person so much-
“Holy shit, I feel like my feet are about to secede from the Union,” America complained loudly, shifting her weight from foot to foot testily. Japan hastily amended his internal theatre to add that a change of clothes really did only change outward appearance.
With an irritable sigh, America leaned over to remove her stilettos (and Japan was again assaulted by phantoms of England screeching in mortal offense at so much of America’s “purple mountains’ majesty” being bared to the public), heaving a sigh of relief at her feet’s newly found freedom.
She turned to Japan with her signature 1000-watt smile, before the expression changed quickly to one of consternation. Japan stared back at her with a placid expression, quietly mystified and unable to fathom a reason for America touching the top of her head, extending her arm until the side of her palm touched the elevator wall, and staring at him intently.
“Japan,” she said slowly. Instinctively, he took a small step backwards at her intense expression.
“Yes?”
“Now don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but I gotta ask you something, okay?”
“…yes?”
“Are you wearing heels?”