[APH] Falling Without Knowing (three)
Title: Falling Without Knowing
Category: Axis Powers Hetalia / Hetalia World Series
Characters/Pairings: Greece/Japan, others mentioned
Genre/Rating/Warnings: romance, drama, sci-fi/PG/post apocalyptic space opera, switching between country and human names
Summary/Excerpt: The nations are living in their own planets, united under one galaxy. By strict decree, they are unable to see or travel to each other and any sort of communication is under the Council's heavy surveillance. New Greece is bothered by the memories of his former self, especially those of a certain island nation. He is willing to break boundaries, cross time and space to know if a connection between them still exists.
A/N: Hi guys! Super sorry for the delay ^^; I had a busy week ;A; It's still Friday somewhere in the world, right? /shot Thank you so much chromatic_coma for the beta! o 3o Also, did anyone click the song link in the last chapter? :D
one | two | THREE | four | five | six
In this installment: Herakles begins to understand that no matter how far apart they are, he and Japan have always been connected.
Some kind of magic, moving was automatic
The days go on forever, reaching forward, not looking back
Synchronicity, I get the feeling
When Corporal Cat returned from her hunt early that morning, she was no longer surprised to hear typing from the kitchen.
"As much as I'm glad that you're still running your country while finding the time to talk to him," she said. "Please get some sleep."
"I'm fine, Corporal," Herakles replied, not looking up from his computer.
It was true, there was nothing about the man that showed signs of fatigue. If anything, this was the happiest Corporal had ever seen him. But was this a cause to lose sleep for? Seeing Herakles crack a small smile with every reply he received, pause to think about what he should say and type with a quiet happiness shining deep from in his eyes, Corporal would like to think Herakles was no different from who he was before. Then again, she was in no position to say such and shrugged the thought off. She went to the dining table and looked at his messages.
"…isn’t he the guy who was in the Butterflies you were viewing two weeks ago?"
Herakles' typing slowed down. "Well…yes."
"Doesn't he have his own country to run?" she asked.
"He says it's alright," he said. "He says his mayors are still as efficient as he remembers, which is a load off his back."
Corporal rumbled thoughtfully. "I take it that's good then. But don't let the Council catch you both."
Herakles didn't answer as she left. The familiar feeling of helplessness and distance stirred in his stomach. The times he got through Japan's server were infrequent and irregular, even when he was hacking Council security almost everyday now. Their conversations were short, pointless and filled with reminisce of memories that weren't theirs, like neighbourhood gossip colored and retold with the same vitality as they would had the experience been theirs.
It was alright. A fuzzy sort of warmth spread across Herakles' shoulders and plastered a silly smile on his face every time he read Japan's words on his screen. And somehow, he began to understand what was so precious in fleeting moments like these.
But the gnawing at the back on his mind asked if he could bring back the intimacy he and Japan shared when they had been on Earth if he kept this up, and whether it was right to do so. Too often, he felt his actions were dictated by the need to bring his old life back. It left him wondering if he really wanted to do this or if any disparity in him existed at all and he was simply creating problems for himself.
'Sorry,' he typed. 'Corporal Cat came home.'
your cat?
ah she is not exactly a cat is she. tell me more about her. are there many cats there as you had back in greece
'There aren't a lot of them, not in the cities. They were kind of like the people here before we arrived. They take pride in their culture and independence so there are places on the planet that are solely for them. Only very few venture to the cities and stay. Corporal is one of them and she's sort of like their leader. But I guess she does remind me of the cats I had then. I've come to value her company very much. How about you? Do you have a Pochi there of some sort?'
Herakles pressed 'enter' and looked mildly surprised at the length of his reply, trying to recall when they had gotten so eager to converse.
i have a pochi
And somehow he heard that being said with a smile.
i have a pochi
and similar to your case, his kind is what we've been modified from. they are quite like dogs because they have an affinity toward us but it seems i am the only one who understands their speech
that comforts me greatly as i have no one in the house to talk to and my people live so far away from each other. it's space i could never have imagined
And in here, Herakles heard a disdainful laugh. 'Tell me more about your planet,' he said.
it is cold
There was a pause and he could almost see it-the profile of Japan's face, smooth and fair as they were in memories, preparing to speak uninhibited because the hill they were on was so grassy and breezy it beckoned secrets from ones lips.
it is cold and we see no star in our sky. i am not sure if we even have a star. the light comes from the land and everything on it. it reminds me of summer nights in the countryside when the fireflies come out. but
but now i can only tell the difference between night and day through the computer clock. i would like to reconcile my memories with what i see but pochi tells me the planet has been this way since he was born
A fantastical image expanded across Herakles mind-a planet of darkness, so unlike the perpetual sunset orange of his own, lit up only by the ground or a fluorescent forest. He wondered how the people lived and what they did for a living. His curiosity was laced with a hesitant sympathy. Was he the first person Japan could properly confide in after all this time? He wasn't sure if the feeling spreading across his shoulders was good or bad.
'I can only imagine what you see,' he typed back. 'And if only I could take you here, you'd see the sun rise every four hours.'
ah
you haven’t changed herakles san
i would gladly take your offer if could
He frowned (Did he just miss something?). 'Kiku,' he typed. 'Why are you out here? Do you map the stars too?'
well
And just like that, the server disconnected and Herakles sat in the kitchen feeling like he'd forgotten something and it dropped from his stomach and rolled under the bed, waiting to be found and bewilderedly dusted off.
It wouldn't be until three weeks later that he'd get the chance to talk to Japan again.
"You look down, sir," said Nikos, the elderly farmer, as he leaned on his rake.
Herakles blinked away his thoughts at the remark and moved away from the rows of onions they had been tending. "Maybe," he answered with an apologetic shrug of his shoulders and joined the man gazing at his farm.
Florina was at its sunniest and the town had been preparing for their first onion planting (as their lands had been deemed most suitable for its growth). Herakles had gone from house to house, greeting people, being offered food, holding short seminars on the benefits of agricultural development and helping farmers till the soil.
This household was his last stop for the day and tomorrow would be his going away celebration (no really, it was the partying excuse of every city he visited). The farm was owned by an elderly couple whose house was being taken over by basil trellises. They said they loved the scent of them in the morning as it reminded them of their children when they still played in the gardens. The children had grown up now and worked in Santorini City as businessmen.
"That's no good, sir," Nikos said. "These plants might not grow well if you are sad."
Herakles smiled but didn't reply. The farmer peered curiously at his face.
"Anything on your mind?"
"Just a few questions," said Herakles and the farmer clapped him on the back.
"Nothing that wouldn’t be solved after coffee, I hope?" he asked and invited him to their home.
Herakles stepped into their low ceilinged kitchen, humbled and awed at the rustic charm they’ve decided to adopt. Kitchenware lined one wall, a gas stove beside it, then the sink and a windowsill of flowers. The farmer went about rummaging for a pot and the coffee grinder, turning on the stove, filling the pot with water and letting it boil while he ground the coffee beans.
"I will tell you my favorite story about my great great-aunt," he said as he worked, and Herakles seated himself at the kitchen table. "Out of all the Butterflies you have given, sir, this particular memory never fails to cheer me up."
He laid milk and honey on the table, along with two cups. It was funny how the elderly loved to tell Herakles their stories despite knowing he was far older than them and had more stories that surpassed any of their lives. But Herakles valued their wisdom and enjoyed listening to them like a child imaging wonders of a golden heyday and so poured milk into his coffee, waiting eagerly with warming hands.
"When my great aunt was young," Nikos began. "She fell in love with a Russian astronaut whom she had met once on her dance troupe's tour. There was an instant spark between them. He loved the way she moved and she loved his strength and his face. They exchanged emails even after they parted, but when the Russian astronaut had to leave for his first mission, they ceased to talk."
"My great aunt thought she had fallen out of love and continued dancing day after day. But her heart was troubled, because no matter where she looked, she could not let the Russian astronaut go. Their relationship had not been deep or anything, no, it was just a matter of letters and fondness. But great aunt said that it was that fondness, such persistent fondness that made her think this astronaut was someone more special and greater than anyone in her life."
"His voyage lasted for seventy years and great aunt chose not to pine, but she did remain single. When she retired from dancing, everyone was asking who her constant inspiration was, and she told them with a secret smile and a wink that it was her lover in the stars. Oh how I wish I could have seen the sky she used to look up at with such peace and a bit of longing."
Nikos took a soothing sip of his coffee and continued animatedly. "The Russian astronaut returned to the Earth when my great aunt was ill and bedridden. She could not stand anymore to greet him and you know what he did? He flew to Greece to give her letters. All the letters he wrote in his aircraft with a pencil and paper."
"That Butterfly was so beautiful, sir. See it if you have the time. Great aunt shook and cried as he read his letters aloud by her bedside, looking like he wasn't a day over thirty while she was old and wrinkly. 'Dear Helen,' he wrote. 'The sky over Greece is clear. If I look hard enough, I can see you dancing.' She passed away that night, with the Russian astronaut by her side and the letters on her chest."
Their coffee was nearly finished and Nikos was staring at the last sip near the bottom of his cup.
"Great grandmother claimed, though, that her sister had been alone during that time," the elderly farmer said. "She didn’t want to tell her sister the Russian astronaut's voyage had failed a month prior and only debris of the craft was recovered."
They shared a commemorative silence. Astraios was sinking when Herakles stood to thank him for the coffee.
"And for that beautiful story," he said with a smile.
The farmer shook his hand. "Nothing is as small or as big as we think, sir. You have helped us greatly." And in the next day, Herakles left Florina.
it is hard for me to leave the house
walking is not painful but getting anywhere on foot takes a lot of time. goodness knows i take the entire afternoon to go to the convenience store for groceries
'You have convenience stores there?' Herakles asked bemusedly.
of course. convenience stores and railways are the first things i had built. all of the prefectures have convenience stores and train lines so they stay connected even if the city is so far away
i myself live in the okinawa prefecture. i run my planet from my home. pochi loves it when we go out to the convenience store
'That sounds lovely,' he typed with a growing smile. 'But you hardly see anyone. Don't you get lonely?'
more often than i can count
i see my butterflies and know there are a hundred different worlds from mine. when i knew just one, i would not have bothered finding out how to live differently from how i did, but now i can't help but search for what more can be out there, where everyone is and how they are
Herakles shifted on his kitchen chair with a melancholy creak. Corporal Cat was out and the house was empty. He felt a building up inside his chest and wondered was this it? So he wasn't the only one so troubled by the detachment he felt from his memories? How can Japan be so carelessly honest with him, supposedly knowing that their troubles of the heart were right beside them, chatting lightly, heavily, carefully avoiding landmines (were they even there?). Was the distance between them the source of his assurance? Herakles could see it-a pained look on a beautiful face of the beautiful man on their grassy hill. (Who was he?) It was as if Japan could not say what to Herakles he could only say…
(But who were they kidding? If they thought they weren't being honest with themselves because they feared they wouldn't feel the same as they did when they were together, then what was there before the fear? Wasn't feeling quite enough? What mattered was now.)
there are days i can hardly believe i'm talking to you and i pray desperately you aren't someone who isn't real
i am not the one to send a lot of letters, even if the council allows such. sometimes it is hard believing things you cannot see, especially in my planet when you feel like you are contained in a little space of your own
but i am rambling
i too would like to take you here some time. it is truly lovely and i don't have anyone to share what i see
There wasn't fanfare. No falling petals or rain or kisses (which truly felt lonely). Just gravity and the warmth in Herakles' shoulders, spreading across his back and oozing on the floor like red strings, reaching out in quiet measures to someone across time and space. Just a persistent fondness that made astronauts write 'I see you dancing' in pencils and made ladies look up at the sky.
There was a word for it or something like a word (ἔρως, 愛...). Herakles needn't rush and Japan knew this too. He almost laughed when he thought he could feel the beginnings of a river under his feet, ready to rage in its own time, when he was sure he wouldn't be able to contain this feeling in that word which was something like a word. (What would he do then? Kiss the computer screen? If Corporal would see, she wouldn't let him hear the end of it.)
'I would like that very much,' Herakles said. 'And I do miss you, Kiku.'
(And twenty three light years away, in a small dark planet, Kiku too would imagine Greece on a grassy hill, the profile of his face set and gentle, ready to say things that would catch Kiku off guard, crinkle his well pressed yukata and make him love him for it. Because on their hill, all they needed was the holding of hands and the lacing of fingers.)
(And Kiku would cry in front of him computer, glowing lilac like a night lamp. Pochi would nose his elbow and they would cuddle.
"You really do love him, don't you. You do so much just to talk to him."
Pochi wouldn't need an answer. Only this loneliness would be their constant company as the server would disconnect.)
"And what are those?" Corporal Cat asked when she returned home one afternoon and saw Herakles sitting on the floor beside the couch, surrounded by Memory Sheets and immersed in a Reader.
He looked up. "Oh hello, Corporal. I just came from the Library. Um…have you eaten?"
She licked her paws and sat down regally beside him. "A most delectable ʧitita, thank you. What are you reading?"
But when Herakles pulled the Reader back and stood in a childish panic, Corporal had already seen the diagram of a spacecraft of the screen and pounced on him. Tension between them swelled like an angry balloon and filled the living room to bursting.
"What do you think you're doing?" she hissed, canines bared.
"None of your business, erin!ŋao." he spat back, pushing her off him. His tail curved in an angry arch.
"I might as well make it my damn business, human. This is our planet as much as it is yours and I am not going to let it be destroyed because of your silly whims!"
"I am not letting this planet be destroyed!"
"Then what the hell are you doing talking to him when you know damn well you can't! And don't give me bull about Butterflies! Both of you man up! I will not allow you to build any aircrafts on my lands! You will not go to see him!"
The computer seen from the kitchen doorway never seemed so exposed. The living room teemed with angry sparks that would fly and shatter with any more push. Herakles and Corporal Cat looked right about ready to claw at each other's faces, until the latter calmed down and headed for the direction of the door.
"Cool your head, Herakles Karpusi," Corporal Cat said with her back turned to him. "I know how much you mean to each other but your Council had good reasons to keep you within your planets. You have a responsibility with us. As a nation, do not forget that."
The front door slammed shut.
to chapter four
Category: Axis Powers Hetalia / Hetalia World Series
Characters/Pairings: Greece/Japan, others mentioned
Genre/Rating/Warnings: romance, drama, sci-fi/PG/post apocalyptic space opera, switching between country and human names
Summary/Excerpt: The nations are living in their own planets, united under one galaxy. By strict decree, they are unable to see or travel to each other and any sort of communication is under the Council's heavy surveillance. New Greece is bothered by the memories of his former self, especially those of a certain island nation. He is willing to break boundaries, cross time and space to know if a connection between them still exists.
A/N: Hi guys! Super sorry for the delay ^^; I had a busy week ;A; It's still Friday somewhere in the world, right? /shot Thank you so much chromatic_coma for the beta! o 3o Also, did anyone click the song link in the last chapter? :D
one | two | THREE | four | five | six
In this installment: Herakles begins to understand that no matter how far apart they are, he and Japan have always been connected.
Some kind of magic, moving was automatic
The days go on forever, reaching forward, not looking back
Synchronicity, I get the feeling
When Corporal Cat returned from her hunt early that morning, she was no longer surprised to hear typing from the kitchen.
"As much as I'm glad that you're still running your country while finding the time to talk to him," she said. "Please get some sleep."
"I'm fine, Corporal," Herakles replied, not looking up from his computer.
It was true, there was nothing about the man that showed signs of fatigue. If anything, this was the happiest Corporal had ever seen him. But was this a cause to lose sleep for? Seeing Herakles crack a small smile with every reply he received, pause to think about what he should say and type with a quiet happiness shining deep from in his eyes, Corporal would like to think Herakles was no different from who he was before. Then again, she was in no position to say such and shrugged the thought off. She went to the dining table and looked at his messages.
"…isn’t he the guy who was in the Butterflies you were viewing two weeks ago?"
Herakles' typing slowed down. "Well…yes."
"Doesn't he have his own country to run?" she asked.
"He says it's alright," he said. "He says his mayors are still as efficient as he remembers, which is a load off his back."
Corporal rumbled thoughtfully. "I take it that's good then. But don't let the Council catch you both."
Herakles didn't answer as she left. The familiar feeling of helplessness and distance stirred in his stomach. The times he got through Japan's server were infrequent and irregular, even when he was hacking Council security almost everyday now. Their conversations were short, pointless and filled with reminisce of memories that weren't theirs, like neighbourhood gossip colored and retold with the same vitality as they would had the experience been theirs.
It was alright. A fuzzy sort of warmth spread across Herakles' shoulders and plastered a silly smile on his face every time he read Japan's words on his screen. And somehow, he began to understand what was so precious in fleeting moments like these.
But the gnawing at the back on his mind asked if he could bring back the intimacy he and Japan shared when they had been on Earth if he kept this up, and whether it was right to do so. Too often, he felt his actions were dictated by the need to bring his old life back. It left him wondering if he really wanted to do this or if any disparity in him existed at all and he was simply creating problems for himself.
'Sorry,' he typed. 'Corporal Cat came home.'
your cat?
ah she is not exactly a cat is she. tell me more about her. are there many cats there as you had back in greece
'There aren't a lot of them, not in the cities. They were kind of like the people here before we arrived. They take pride in their culture and independence so there are places on the planet that are solely for them. Only very few venture to the cities and stay. Corporal is one of them and she's sort of like their leader. But I guess she does remind me of the cats I had then. I've come to value her company very much. How about you? Do you have a Pochi there of some sort?'
Herakles pressed 'enter' and looked mildly surprised at the length of his reply, trying to recall when they had gotten so eager to converse.
i have a pochi
And somehow he heard that being said with a smile.
i have a pochi
and similar to your case, his kind is what we've been modified from. they are quite like dogs because they have an affinity toward us but it seems i am the only one who understands their speech
that comforts me greatly as i have no one in the house to talk to and my people live so far away from each other. it's space i could never have imagined
And in here, Herakles heard a disdainful laugh. 'Tell me more about your planet,' he said.
it is cold
There was a pause and he could almost see it-the profile of Japan's face, smooth and fair as they were in memories, preparing to speak uninhibited because the hill they were on was so grassy and breezy it beckoned secrets from ones lips.
it is cold and we see no star in our sky. i am not sure if we even have a star. the light comes from the land and everything on it. it reminds me of summer nights in the countryside when the fireflies come out. but
but now i can only tell the difference between night and day through the computer clock. i would like to reconcile my memories with what i see but pochi tells me the planet has been this way since he was born
A fantastical image expanded across Herakles mind-a planet of darkness, so unlike the perpetual sunset orange of his own, lit up only by the ground or a fluorescent forest. He wondered how the people lived and what they did for a living. His curiosity was laced with a hesitant sympathy. Was he the first person Japan could properly confide in after all this time? He wasn't sure if the feeling spreading across his shoulders was good or bad.
'I can only imagine what you see,' he typed back. 'And if only I could take you here, you'd see the sun rise every four hours.'
ah
you haven’t changed herakles san
i would gladly take your offer if could
He frowned (Did he just miss something?). 'Kiku,' he typed. 'Why are you out here? Do you map the stars too?'
well
And just like that, the server disconnected and Herakles sat in the kitchen feeling like he'd forgotten something and it dropped from his stomach and rolled under the bed, waiting to be found and bewilderedly dusted off.
It wouldn't be until three weeks later that he'd get the chance to talk to Japan again.
"You look down, sir," said Nikos, the elderly farmer, as he leaned on his rake.
Herakles blinked away his thoughts at the remark and moved away from the rows of onions they had been tending. "Maybe," he answered with an apologetic shrug of his shoulders and joined the man gazing at his farm.
Florina was at its sunniest and the town had been preparing for their first onion planting (as their lands had been deemed most suitable for its growth). Herakles had gone from house to house, greeting people, being offered food, holding short seminars on the benefits of agricultural development and helping farmers till the soil.
This household was his last stop for the day and tomorrow would be his going away celebration (no really, it was the partying excuse of every city he visited). The farm was owned by an elderly couple whose house was being taken over by basil trellises. They said they loved the scent of them in the morning as it reminded them of their children when they still played in the gardens. The children had grown up now and worked in Santorini City as businessmen.
"That's no good, sir," Nikos said. "These plants might not grow well if you are sad."
Herakles smiled but didn't reply. The farmer peered curiously at his face.
"Anything on your mind?"
"Just a few questions," said Herakles and the farmer clapped him on the back.
"Nothing that wouldn’t be solved after coffee, I hope?" he asked and invited him to their home.
Herakles stepped into their low ceilinged kitchen, humbled and awed at the rustic charm they’ve decided to adopt. Kitchenware lined one wall, a gas stove beside it, then the sink and a windowsill of flowers. The farmer went about rummaging for a pot and the coffee grinder, turning on the stove, filling the pot with water and letting it boil while he ground the coffee beans.
"I will tell you my favorite story about my great great-aunt," he said as he worked, and Herakles seated himself at the kitchen table. "Out of all the Butterflies you have given, sir, this particular memory never fails to cheer me up."
He laid milk and honey on the table, along with two cups. It was funny how the elderly loved to tell Herakles their stories despite knowing he was far older than them and had more stories that surpassed any of their lives. But Herakles valued their wisdom and enjoyed listening to them like a child imaging wonders of a golden heyday and so poured milk into his coffee, waiting eagerly with warming hands.
"When my great aunt was young," Nikos began. "She fell in love with a Russian astronaut whom she had met once on her dance troupe's tour. There was an instant spark between them. He loved the way she moved and she loved his strength and his face. They exchanged emails even after they parted, but when the Russian astronaut had to leave for his first mission, they ceased to talk."
"My great aunt thought she had fallen out of love and continued dancing day after day. But her heart was troubled, because no matter where she looked, she could not let the Russian astronaut go. Their relationship had not been deep or anything, no, it was just a matter of letters and fondness. But great aunt said that it was that fondness, such persistent fondness that made her think this astronaut was someone more special and greater than anyone in her life."
"His voyage lasted for seventy years and great aunt chose not to pine, but she did remain single. When she retired from dancing, everyone was asking who her constant inspiration was, and she told them with a secret smile and a wink that it was her lover in the stars. Oh how I wish I could have seen the sky she used to look up at with such peace and a bit of longing."
Nikos took a soothing sip of his coffee and continued animatedly. "The Russian astronaut returned to the Earth when my great aunt was ill and bedridden. She could not stand anymore to greet him and you know what he did? He flew to Greece to give her letters. All the letters he wrote in his aircraft with a pencil and paper."
"That Butterfly was so beautiful, sir. See it if you have the time. Great aunt shook and cried as he read his letters aloud by her bedside, looking like he wasn't a day over thirty while she was old and wrinkly. 'Dear Helen,' he wrote. 'The sky over Greece is clear. If I look hard enough, I can see you dancing.' She passed away that night, with the Russian astronaut by her side and the letters on her chest."
Their coffee was nearly finished and Nikos was staring at the last sip near the bottom of his cup.
"Great grandmother claimed, though, that her sister had been alone during that time," the elderly farmer said. "She didn’t want to tell her sister the Russian astronaut's voyage had failed a month prior and only debris of the craft was recovered."
They shared a commemorative silence. Astraios was sinking when Herakles stood to thank him for the coffee.
"And for that beautiful story," he said with a smile.
The farmer shook his hand. "Nothing is as small or as big as we think, sir. You have helped us greatly." And in the next day, Herakles left Florina.
it is hard for me to leave the house
walking is not painful but getting anywhere on foot takes a lot of time. goodness knows i take the entire afternoon to go to the convenience store for groceries
'You have convenience stores there?' Herakles asked bemusedly.
of course. convenience stores and railways are the first things i had built. all of the prefectures have convenience stores and train lines so they stay connected even if the city is so far away
i myself live in the okinawa prefecture. i run my planet from my home. pochi loves it when we go out to the convenience store
'That sounds lovely,' he typed with a growing smile. 'But you hardly see anyone. Don't you get lonely?'
more often than i can count
i see my butterflies and know there are a hundred different worlds from mine. when i knew just one, i would not have bothered finding out how to live differently from how i did, but now i can't help but search for what more can be out there, where everyone is and how they are
Herakles shifted on his kitchen chair with a melancholy creak. Corporal Cat was out and the house was empty. He felt a building up inside his chest and wondered was this it? So he wasn't the only one so troubled by the detachment he felt from his memories? How can Japan be so carelessly honest with him, supposedly knowing that their troubles of the heart were right beside them, chatting lightly, heavily, carefully avoiding landmines (were they even there?). Was the distance between them the source of his assurance? Herakles could see it-a pained look on a beautiful face of the beautiful man on their grassy hill. (Who was he?) It was as if Japan could not say what to Herakles he could only say…
(But who were they kidding? If they thought they weren't being honest with themselves because they feared they wouldn't feel the same as they did when they were together, then what was there before the fear? Wasn't feeling quite enough? What mattered was now.)
there are days i can hardly believe i'm talking to you and i pray desperately you aren't someone who isn't real
i am not the one to send a lot of letters, even if the council allows such. sometimes it is hard believing things you cannot see, especially in my planet when you feel like you are contained in a little space of your own
but i am rambling
i too would like to take you here some time. it is truly lovely and i don't have anyone to share what i see
There wasn't fanfare. No falling petals or rain or kisses (which truly felt lonely). Just gravity and the warmth in Herakles' shoulders, spreading across his back and oozing on the floor like red strings, reaching out in quiet measures to someone across time and space. Just a persistent fondness that made astronauts write 'I see you dancing' in pencils and made ladies look up at the sky.
There was a word for it or something like a word (ἔρως, 愛...). Herakles needn't rush and Japan knew this too. He almost laughed when he thought he could feel the beginnings of a river under his feet, ready to rage in its own time, when he was sure he wouldn't be able to contain this feeling in that word which was something like a word. (What would he do then? Kiss the computer screen? If Corporal would see, she wouldn't let him hear the end of it.)
'I would like that very much,' Herakles said. 'And I do miss you, Kiku.'
(And twenty three light years away, in a small dark planet, Kiku too would imagine Greece on a grassy hill, the profile of his face set and gentle, ready to say things that would catch Kiku off guard, crinkle his well pressed yukata and make him love him for it. Because on their hill, all they needed was the holding of hands and the lacing of fingers.)
(And Kiku would cry in front of him computer, glowing lilac like a night lamp. Pochi would nose his elbow and they would cuddle.
"You really do love him, don't you. You do so much just to talk to him."
Pochi wouldn't need an answer. Only this loneliness would be their constant company as the server would disconnect.)
"And what are those?" Corporal Cat asked when she returned home one afternoon and saw Herakles sitting on the floor beside the couch, surrounded by Memory Sheets and immersed in a Reader.
He looked up. "Oh hello, Corporal. I just came from the Library. Um…have you eaten?"
She licked her paws and sat down regally beside him. "A most delectable ʧitita, thank you. What are you reading?"
But when Herakles pulled the Reader back and stood in a childish panic, Corporal had already seen the diagram of a spacecraft of the screen and pounced on him. Tension between them swelled like an angry balloon and filled the living room to bursting.
"What do you think you're doing?" she hissed, canines bared.
"None of your business, erin!ŋao." he spat back, pushing her off him. His tail curved in an angry arch.
"I might as well make it my damn business, human. This is our planet as much as it is yours and I am not going to let it be destroyed because of your silly whims!"
"I am not letting this planet be destroyed!"
"Then what the hell are you doing talking to him when you know damn well you can't! And don't give me bull about Butterflies! Both of you man up! I will not allow you to build any aircrafts on my lands! You will not go to see him!"
The computer seen from the kitchen doorway never seemed so exposed. The living room teemed with angry sparks that would fly and shatter with any more push. Herakles and Corporal Cat looked right about ready to claw at each other's faces, until the latter calmed down and headed for the direction of the door.
"Cool your head, Herakles Karpusi," Corporal Cat said with her back turned to him. "I know how much you mean to each other but your Council had good reasons to keep you within your planets. You have a responsibility with us. As a nation, do not forget that."
The front door slammed shut.
to chapter four