❝mistresses have all the fun, but no one's ever there to take you home❞
sapphires and sulfur, part i | axis powers hetalia | 1560 words | america ; thailand | pg-13 |
in which thailand and america take a tour of the countryside and meet a nice young lady.
written for peekaydee.
part ii.
Sapphires and Sulfur
Part I
It’s the hottest day of the year. The atmosphere is lank and stifling, the air inundated with heat and moisture. As the small blue car makes its way down the dusty road, the passenger squirms in his seat, shifting in a futile attempt to stop his jeans from sticking to his thighs. Beside him, the driver smiles apologetically. Both men reach up from time to time to wipe the moisture off of their spectacles.
The passenger rolls his eyes as he slicks his blonde-brown hair back from his forehead. “You know, Thai, when you said it’d be hot, I thought…”
“Something a bit milder, perhaps?” The corners of the driver’s mouth turn downward momentarily. “I apologize, America. Today seems to be worse than most days.”
“Oh, no, don’t apologize!” America quickly amends. “I just mean, well, let’s stop in for a soda as soon as we reach civilization again, ok?”
Thailand laughs softly. “We’re in ‘civilization’, America. This village is only about an hour outside of Bangkok.”
“Really?” America asks incredulously, before he can think better of it. “Wow.” In his homeland, there’s never been a village like this. It’s surrounded by wide expanses of greenery that seem like savage jungles to America, and the sparse buildings are concentrated in a radial pattern around the one road.
“Hmmm,” America says, stroking his chin. “So does that mean there’s nowhere to get a Coke?”
Thailand laughs again. “Alright, America. We’ll try to get you a soda.”
›››‹‹‹
As they walk out of the store, glass bottles in hand, America decided that it must be the Thai equivalent of a convenience store, though getting to it wasn’t very convenient. He sips his Coke gratefully, however, disregarding the slight disparity in flavor between it and the drinks he’s used to back home.
“Did we really have to park so far away?” America whines as he walks up beside Thailand, who is quietly sipping something of the lemon-lime variety.
“Did you see any parking lots?” Thailand asks in return, blandly and good-naturedly.
“No,” America says, brow furrowing. “You know, Thai, I come here a lot, but I don’t think we’ve ever been out this far.”
“Far into the villages, you mean? No, I suppose we haven’t.” Thailand replies, mulling it over. “I suppose that maybe…I tend to be a bit overprotective.”
“Overprotective?” America repeats, cocking his head to one side.
“People in these villages do not often have easy lives, America,” Thailand explains quietly. The smile has all but dropped from his lips, and he tilts his head to the sky as he continues, “They try their best, and most of them are happy. But I’d like to make things better for them. And yet that process is so slow.”
America nods intently. He has felt the same way, even if not to this extent. For even in his rich country, there are still pockets of poverty and moments of loss that he wishes he could eradicate.
Thailand shakes his head, and the tension drains from his face. “But I trust you, America. I know now that I can bring you here, and you will not harm them.”
“I never would have,” America insists. Thailand only nods in return, a bit sadly.
By this point, they have reached the car. Thailand opens America’s door and then gets in himself, but America doesn’t enter the car.
“America?” Thailand calls out. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” America replies, “but, what’s she doing?”
“Huh?” Thailand gets out of the car, and glances towards where America is looking. Sure enough, there is a young girl walking down the dirt road, a small cloth bundle on her back. She is coughing in the heat, her pale face flushed.
“Come on,” America says, getting in the car, “Why don’t we offer her a lift?”
›››‹‹‹
As Thailand drives up beside the girl, America rolls down his window. “Hey, miss? Miss? Do you need a ride?”
The girl stops abruptly and looks up defiantly into America’s blue eyes. She is a small, petite creature, standing just above five feet. Her inky black hair is thick and full, pulled into a long tail at the base of her neck. But it is her eyes that startle America: eyes that are a black so deep they seem almost navy blue, eyes like night stars, eyes like sapphires.
“Um,” America says again, unnerved by her stare. He tugs at his collar awkwardly. “I’m Alfred, and this is my friend Aroon. We were wondering if you need a lift?”
“L-lift?” The girl stutters not because she is nervous but because the foreign word is thick on her tongue. She mutters something under her breath, then asks, “คุณพูดภาษาไทยเบ็นไหม?”
“Errr,” America mumbles, “Only a little?”
Thailand, who has by this point stopped the car, leans over America and smiles at the girl. “ฉันจะทำอะไรดี. เราต้องการที่จะรู้ว่าถ้าคุณจำเป็นต้องมีการขี่ม้า?”
“Wait, what was that?” America asks Thailand out of the corner of his mouth.
“She said, ‘Don’t you speak Thai?’ and I replied that I did, and would she like a ride,” Thailand explains quickly, then glances back at the girl with a smile.
“ผมไม่แน่ใจว่า,” the girl mumbles. The she jerks a thumb at America. “He is…English?” She asks, her English accented but clear.
“I most certainly am not,” America replies hotly. “I’m America.”
Thailand slaps one hand to his forehead as the girl takes a step back. She steps on a burr with her bare feet and then jumps forward, startled. In doing so, she effectively launches herself at America, who catches her through the open the window.
“Wow, there,” America says with a cheeky grin. “No need to fall all over me, sweetheart.”
The girl mutters a curse under her breath and shoves herself away from America. She takes a deep breath, and says in stilted yet clear English, “No thank you. I can walk.”
Thailand’s eyebrows knit in concern, and he asks, “คุณแน่ใจหรือไม่? มันไม่มีปัญหาให้เรา.”
The girl bites her lip, then glances upwards at the sun and rolls her eyes elaborately. “Alright. Please.”
America shoots her a wink as he opens the back door. “Well, come on, then.”
›››‹‹‹
“So, you work in Bangkok?” America asks brightly, about twenty minutes later. The small car is zipping through the roads, headed for Thailand’s capital city.
She nods.
“What do you do there?” His questions zip off of his tongue so fast that the girl can hardly keep up.
“It is…just work,” she says hopefully, holding up her hands.
“Oh, and what’s your name?” America asks, realizing belatedly that this should have been his first question.
The girl looks at him a bit nervously. Her knees are locked together and her hands are gripped tightly, and she keeps turning them over in her lap in a nervous gesture. “Soms-” She starts to say, but then cuts herself off and says, “I mean, Phailin.”
“Oh, Aroon here told me what that means! It’s ‘sapphire,’ right?” Phailin nods. “That fits so well! Your eyes, you know?”
Phailin nods again, somewhat hopelessly. “T-thank you, Mr. Alfred.”
“Please, just call me Al,” America replies with a grin. “After all, we must be close in age. How old are you?”
“…sixteen.”
“Wow. Sixteen and already working? That’s awesome.”
Phailin’s brow furrows at the steady stream of speech, so Thailand turns around momentarily and translates rapidly as she nods.
“Yes,” she says. And then, in an undertone, “My mother thought so, too.”
›››‹‹‹
When they enter the main city, a sudden change comes over Phailin. She grabs her cloth bundle from the seat beside her and begins to rummage through it. She pulls out a small pot of cosmetics and begins to whiten her face, then paints her lips a vivid pink. Her eyes she shadows darkly, and then she pulls her thick hair up into an elaborate coil, tucking a sapphire clip into her hair to hold it in place.
“Miss Phailin?” Thailand asks, confused, “What is it you said you did?”
“I-I work at a hotel,” Phailin says quickly. “I serve the drinks.”
“Ah,” Thailand says, but his face shadows. “Where should I drop you off?”
“P-patpong,” Phailin says very quickly.
Thailand doesn’t stop the car, but he slows it down so much he may as well have. He turns around in his seat and eyes Phailin with concern. “I cannot, in good conscience, leave you there.”
“Please,” Phailin says, shooting America a look. “It is no trouble to me, really, and I need to get there soon.”
America’s face furrows in confusion. “Hey, Thai-I mean, Aroon? What’s Patpong? Have I ever been there?”
Phailin continues to look at Thailand pleadingly. “ได้โปรดอย่าบอกให้เขา. ผมจะปรับ.”
Thailand nods dumbly, and then continues to drive. A few minutes later, he stops at Phailin’s instruction in front of a fine-looking establishment, with long silk curtains concealing the windows and deep green pillars creating an entry way.
“Thank you!” Phailin says in chirpy English as she races out of the car. “Mr. Aroon, Mr. Alfred-goodbye.” And she waves brightly, and then she disappears into the building and is gone.
“Well, she was nice,” America says musingly. “What a sweet girl.”
Thailand is silent, and suddenly his lowers his head so that his forehead rests against the steering wheel. When he looks back up at America, there are tears in his eyes.
“America…Patpong is Bangkok’s entertainment district. That was a brothel.”
mini fail!thai dictionary:
คุณพูดภาษาไทยเบ็นไหม? ›› Do you speak Thai?
ฉันจะทำอะไรดี. ›› I do.
เราต้องการที่จะรู้ว่าถ้าคุณจำเป็นต้องมีการขี่ม้า? ›› Do you need a ride?
ผมไม่แน่ใจว่า ›› I am not sure.
คุณแน่ใจหรือไม่? ›› Are you certain?
มันไม่มีปัญหาให้เรา. ›› It is no trouble for us.
ได้โปรดอย่าบอกให้เขา. ›› Please don’t tell him.
ผมจะปรับ. ›› I’ll be fine.
›› Prostitution in Thailand is illegal, but in practice it is tolerated and regulated. Since the Vietnam War, Thailand has gained international notoriety among travelers from many countries as a sex tourism destination.
›› Patpong is the largest entertainment district in Bangkok.
›› This is the first part of a two part story. The second part should be up tonight or tomorrow.
in which thailand and america take a tour of the countryside and meet a nice young lady.
written for peekaydee.
part ii.
Sapphires and Sulfur
Part I
It’s the hottest day of the year. The atmosphere is lank and stifling, the air inundated with heat and moisture. As the small blue car makes its way down the dusty road, the passenger squirms in his seat, shifting in a futile attempt to stop his jeans from sticking to his thighs. Beside him, the driver smiles apologetically. Both men reach up from time to time to wipe the moisture off of their spectacles.
The passenger rolls his eyes as he slicks his blonde-brown hair back from his forehead. “You know, Thai, when you said it’d be hot, I thought…”
“Something a bit milder, perhaps?” The corners of the driver’s mouth turn downward momentarily. “I apologize, America. Today seems to be worse than most days.”
“Oh, no, don’t apologize!” America quickly amends. “I just mean, well, let’s stop in for a soda as soon as we reach civilization again, ok?”
Thailand laughs softly. “We’re in ‘civilization’, America. This village is only about an hour outside of Bangkok.”
“Really?” America asks incredulously, before he can think better of it. “Wow.” In his homeland, there’s never been a village like this. It’s surrounded by wide expanses of greenery that seem like savage jungles to America, and the sparse buildings are concentrated in a radial pattern around the one road.
“Hmmm,” America says, stroking his chin. “So does that mean there’s nowhere to get a Coke?”
Thailand laughs again. “Alright, America. We’ll try to get you a soda.”
›››‹‹‹
As they walk out of the store, glass bottles in hand, America decided that it must be the Thai equivalent of a convenience store, though getting to it wasn’t very convenient. He sips his Coke gratefully, however, disregarding the slight disparity in flavor between it and the drinks he’s used to back home.
“Did we really have to park so far away?” America whines as he walks up beside Thailand, who is quietly sipping something of the lemon-lime variety.
“Did you see any parking lots?” Thailand asks in return, blandly and good-naturedly.
“No,” America says, brow furrowing. “You know, Thai, I come here a lot, but I don’t think we’ve ever been out this far.”
“Far into the villages, you mean? No, I suppose we haven’t.” Thailand replies, mulling it over. “I suppose that maybe…I tend to be a bit overprotective.”
“Overprotective?” America repeats, cocking his head to one side.
“People in these villages do not often have easy lives, America,” Thailand explains quietly. The smile has all but dropped from his lips, and he tilts his head to the sky as he continues, “They try their best, and most of them are happy. But I’d like to make things better for them. And yet that process is so slow.”
America nods intently. He has felt the same way, even if not to this extent. For even in his rich country, there are still pockets of poverty and moments of loss that he wishes he could eradicate.
Thailand shakes his head, and the tension drains from his face. “But I trust you, America. I know now that I can bring you here, and you will not harm them.”
“I never would have,” America insists. Thailand only nods in return, a bit sadly.
By this point, they have reached the car. Thailand opens America’s door and then gets in himself, but America doesn’t enter the car.
“America?” Thailand calls out. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” America replies, “but, what’s she doing?”
“Huh?” Thailand gets out of the car, and glances towards where America is looking. Sure enough, there is a young girl walking down the dirt road, a small cloth bundle on her back. She is coughing in the heat, her pale face flushed.
“Come on,” America says, getting in the car, “Why don’t we offer her a lift?”
›››‹‹‹
As Thailand drives up beside the girl, America rolls down his window. “Hey, miss? Miss? Do you need a ride?”
The girl stops abruptly and looks up defiantly into America’s blue eyes. She is a small, petite creature, standing just above five feet. Her inky black hair is thick and full, pulled into a long tail at the base of her neck. But it is her eyes that startle America: eyes that are a black so deep they seem almost navy blue, eyes like night stars, eyes like sapphires.
“Um,” America says again, unnerved by her stare. He tugs at his collar awkwardly. “I’m Alfred, and this is my friend Aroon. We were wondering if you need a lift?”
“L-lift?” The girl stutters not because she is nervous but because the foreign word is thick on her tongue. She mutters something under her breath, then asks, “คุณพูดภาษาไทยเบ็นไหม?”
“Errr,” America mumbles, “Only a little?”
Thailand, who has by this point stopped the car, leans over America and smiles at the girl. “ฉันจะทำอะไรดี. เราต้องการที่จะรู้ว่าถ้าคุณจำเป็นต้องมีการขี่ม้า?”
“Wait, what was that?” America asks Thailand out of the corner of his mouth.
“She said, ‘Don’t you speak Thai?’ and I replied that I did, and would she like a ride,” Thailand explains quickly, then glances back at the girl with a smile.
“ผมไม่แน่ใจว่า,” the girl mumbles. The she jerks a thumb at America. “He is…English?” She asks, her English accented but clear.
“I most certainly am not,” America replies hotly. “I’m America.”
Thailand slaps one hand to his forehead as the girl takes a step back. She steps on a burr with her bare feet and then jumps forward, startled. In doing so, she effectively launches herself at America, who catches her through the open the window.
“Wow, there,” America says with a cheeky grin. “No need to fall all over me, sweetheart.”
The girl mutters a curse under her breath and shoves herself away from America. She takes a deep breath, and says in stilted yet clear English, “No thank you. I can walk.”
Thailand’s eyebrows knit in concern, and he asks, “คุณแน่ใจหรือไม่? มันไม่มีปัญหาให้เรา.”
The girl bites her lip, then glances upwards at the sun and rolls her eyes elaborately. “Alright. Please.”
America shoots her a wink as he opens the back door. “Well, come on, then.”
›››‹‹‹
“So, you work in Bangkok?” America asks brightly, about twenty minutes later. The small car is zipping through the roads, headed for Thailand’s capital city.
She nods.
“What do you do there?” His questions zip off of his tongue so fast that the girl can hardly keep up.
“It is…just work,” she says hopefully, holding up her hands.
“Oh, and what’s your name?” America asks, realizing belatedly that this should have been his first question.
The girl looks at him a bit nervously. Her knees are locked together and her hands are gripped tightly, and she keeps turning them over in her lap in a nervous gesture. “Soms-” She starts to say, but then cuts herself off and says, “I mean, Phailin.”
“Oh, Aroon here told me what that means! It’s ‘sapphire,’ right?” Phailin nods. “That fits so well! Your eyes, you know?”
Phailin nods again, somewhat hopelessly. “T-thank you, Mr. Alfred.”
“Please, just call me Al,” America replies with a grin. “After all, we must be close in age. How old are you?”
“…sixteen.”
“Wow. Sixteen and already working? That’s awesome.”
Phailin’s brow furrows at the steady stream of speech, so Thailand turns around momentarily and translates rapidly as she nods.
“Yes,” she says. And then, in an undertone, “My mother thought so, too.”
›››‹‹‹
When they enter the main city, a sudden change comes over Phailin. She grabs her cloth bundle from the seat beside her and begins to rummage through it. She pulls out a small pot of cosmetics and begins to whiten her face, then paints her lips a vivid pink. Her eyes she shadows darkly, and then she pulls her thick hair up into an elaborate coil, tucking a sapphire clip into her hair to hold it in place.
“Miss Phailin?” Thailand asks, confused, “What is it you said you did?”
“I-I work at a hotel,” Phailin says quickly. “I serve the drinks.”
“Ah,” Thailand says, but his face shadows. “Where should I drop you off?”
“P-patpong,” Phailin says very quickly.
Thailand doesn’t stop the car, but he slows it down so much he may as well have. He turns around in his seat and eyes Phailin with concern. “I cannot, in good conscience, leave you there.”
“Please,” Phailin says, shooting America a look. “It is no trouble to me, really, and I need to get there soon.”
America’s face furrows in confusion. “Hey, Thai-I mean, Aroon? What’s Patpong? Have I ever been there?”
Phailin continues to look at Thailand pleadingly. “ได้โปรดอย่าบอกให้เขา. ผมจะปรับ.”
Thailand nods dumbly, and then continues to drive. A few minutes later, he stops at Phailin’s instruction in front of a fine-looking establishment, with long silk curtains concealing the windows and deep green pillars creating an entry way.
“Thank you!” Phailin says in chirpy English as she races out of the car. “Mr. Aroon, Mr. Alfred-goodbye.” And she waves brightly, and then she disappears into the building and is gone.
“Well, she was nice,” America says musingly. “What a sweet girl.”
Thailand is silent, and suddenly his lowers his head so that his forehead rests against the steering wheel. When he looks back up at America, there are tears in his eyes.
“America…Patpong is Bangkok’s entertainment district. That was a brothel.”
mini fail!thai dictionary:
คุณพูดภาษาไทยเบ็นไหม? ›› Do you speak Thai?
ฉันจะทำอะไรดี. ›› I do.
เราต้องการที่จะรู้ว่าถ้าคุณจำเป็นต้องมีการขี่ม้า? ›› Do you need a ride?
ผมไม่แน่ใจว่า ›› I am not sure.
คุณแน่ใจหรือไม่? ›› Are you certain?
มันไม่มีปัญหาให้เรา. ›› It is no trouble for us.
ได้โปรดอย่าบอกให้เขา. ›› Please don’t tell him.
ผมจะปรับ. ›› I’ll be fine.
›› Prostitution in Thailand is illegal, but in practice it is tolerated and regulated. Since the Vietnam War, Thailand has gained international notoriety among travelers from many countries as a sex tourism destination.
›› Patpong is the largest entertainment district in Bangkok.
›› This is the first part of a two part story. The second part should be up tonight or tomorrow.