[APH] The Six Degrees of Separation (2nd° Part 1)
Title: The Six Degrees of Separation
Category: Axis Powers Hetalia / Hetalia World Series
Characters: Greece, Egypt, Japan, Turkey, France, England, America, Canada, Finland, Sweden, Sealand, North and South Italy, Russia, Germany, Prussia, Spain, Belarus, Ukraine, Lithuania, Estonia, Latvia, Poland, China, South Korea
Pairings: France/England, Spain/South Italy, Germany/North Italy, Lithuania/Poland, Turkey/Japan, Finland/Sweden
Genre/Rating/Warnings: friendship, romance, drama, family/PG/AU, human names, shifting POVs, language shifts (which I really hope people won’t get confused by)
Summary/Excerpt: The Six Degrees of Separation is the idea that everyone in this world is connected by at most six people. It’s an empowering, intimidating thought to know that the world can be shrunk within just one city and that lives begin to affect one another as people converge and intersect. Our story begins with a pair of brothers who manage a fruit shake stand in Dotombori, Osaka and bear witness to different fates being drawn together from all over the globe.
Prologue | 1st° Part 1 | 1st° Part 2 | 2nd° Part 1 | 2nd° Part 2 | 2nd° Part 3
3rd° | 4th° | 5th° | 6th° | Epilogue
In this installment: We meet a group of good friends with colorful lives and colorful troubles.
The Six Degrees of Separation
Second Degree (Part 1)
♠ you'll see, like magic, how things simply fall in place
Antonio Carriedo would open his School of Latin Dance at 6:00am. An hour would have him preparing for his first class. Natalia and Katya, his best students, would come in at 7:00 for practice. They were Russian, and often helped Antonio organize his classes or do demo moves. He was torn between wanting to pay them and letting them help for free. He felt bad that they were with him the entire day, but it was their choice anyway.
To be honest, Antonio felt he couldn’t teach them any more than what they knew. Their technique was perfect. Katya had told him once they had been a part of a ballet troupe, but had to stop because their brother (and their only family it seems) had to look for a job with a more stable income. He became the owner of a humble touring service stationed in Japan, and so the sisters followed him there.
Antonio’s first class of the day was the tango. It was an advanced class. Natalia and Katya participated, along with other young students who in one way or another made a living through dance. Antonio watched them grind into each others’ hips, caress each others’ arms, move their feet sharply and surely and stare into each others’ eyes with such burning intensity as they were taught but he felt he was missing something here.
His eyes followed Natalia in her navy blue leotards. Her partner was Tachi today, one of the few men actually taller than her. She looked like she wanted to eat him, but aside from that and her perfect technique, there seemed to be very little heart in the way she moved.
Antonio shook his head. No, not heart. It took a lot of heart to pursue dancing. A better word would perhaps be feel. She wasn’t into the dance quite yet. Well now, he did have something to teach these Russian sisters, he though idly. But how? He himself wasn’t feeling anything as of late. It worried him that he wouldn’t be able to dance properly. His grandmother back in Barcelona had told him not to ignore gut feel, because it was a sign from the earth that you had to prepare yourself for something life changing.
Or maybe Antonio already missed such a change and he was feeling some sickening after-effects. He’d rather the earth be angry with him. The him right now wasn’t deserving of any help from the cosmos.
“Sensei?” called one of his students. “Is this sequence correct?”
Antonio blinked. Time to work, Tonio. Put on a happy smile and get out there. He slid from his seat and gently whisked Katya away from her current dance partner who enjoyed staring at her chest more than anything.
“Not quite. I’ll demonstrate it once again, so please watch carefully.”
♠ a splash of sunset against the harvest
“Are you alright, sensei?” Katya asked, handing him a bottle of cold water. Class ended at 10:30am. The summer often bid hell heat for his dance classes. Antonio took it with a nod of thanks and drank.
“I think I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” he laughed.
Katya glanced at her sister behind her, her worried look replied with Natalia’s usual stoic face. She shrugged. They were alone in the dance studio and the next class wasn’t until 3:00pm.
“I feel much better, though,” Antonio continued. “Shall we practice your jive today? I know the footwork can be tricky but you’ll soon get it.”
Katya hesitated. After class had ended , Natalia had pulled her aside and expressed dismay that lately, all Antonio ever seemed to dance with now was regret and a twinge of anger. They wanted the teacher they admired when they first met a year ago-passionate, controlled, expressive and most importantly, happy.
“But sister, he’s heartbroken!” Katya had answered. Natalia wouldn’t take it for an excuse. It has been months. Too long for someone to get over a broken heart according to her. She had always been a perfectionist.
“I came here to improve my dance, sister,” Natalia replied coldly. “Without sensei’s old dance partner, he might even not want to teach anymore. You get that too, don’t you?”
Katya couldn’t lie. Since the day Antonio’s one and only dance partner left the studio, their instructor hasn’t been himself, like he was missing a limb and no matter what he got into, he couldn’t bring himself to fully engage himself, something that dance needed.
“Are we ready?” Antonio’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts.
“N-not today, sensei,” Katya said, looking at Natalia for help. Her sister merely stared. Today was it.
“Again?” Antonio remarked, a smile of apology gracing his face. “It can’t be helped. It’s really hot. What will we do today? Draft a simple dance for the kids later? I have to teach them a new move today-”
“Sensei,” came Natalia with such force that Katya squeaked with fright. “That’s not it. It’s you. You’ve been out of it. Your tango is angry, your samba is angry, even your waltz is angry. Think about your students who look up to you. It’s bad for your work, sensei.”
Ah. Antonio sighed, his face turning into one of melancholy. “…I guess,” he replied, sounding defeated. “I’m a bad teacher, aren’t I?”
Natalia bristled, about to tell him off, when he continued.
“I wouldn’t call it anger, though. More like loneliness.”
The sisters exchanged uncomfortable looks. Antonio stood and stretched.
“You’re right though, this really isn’t going to do me any good.” He flashed them a sad smile that made Natalia regret she spoke. “Best be a man and get over it, right?”
No. If you had the guts to do that, you would have a long time ago. You would have deemed dance more important and gotten your old form back. But you haven’t. You haven’t because…he is dance to you.
Natalia ‘tsk’-ed in annoyance. “Sensei, we didn’t mean-“
There was the ringing of the telephone. Antonio skipped to the reception desk and answered it.
“Good morning, Carriedo’s School of Latin Dance. How may we help you?”
“…Tony?”
His eyes widened. “Gilbert?”
“Yo, what’s up?”
“Gilbert!” A smile broke out on Antonio’s face, probably a real one that hasn’t graced him in a while. “It’s been ages. How are you?”
“I’ve been awesome, of course,” answered the man on the other line. The Russian sisters watched curiously as their teacher had suddenly started speaking in English. They supposed it was an old friend. He usually spoke in Spanish to relatives. It wasn’t like they didn’t understand what he was saying either.
“Jeez,” Gilbert continued. “We should have a reunion. Come back, here, won’t ya?”
Antonio shook his head as if the person he was talking to could see him. “I’d love to, Gil. I really would but I can’t go back there. You know that.”
“I don’t get it though. I mean, it’s not like he’s here for you to avoid. He’s actually there with you. You’re real illogical, man.”
“It’s not about him,” Antonio said. “It’s Feliciano. He’ll be really upset if he finds out I’ve broken up with his brother. You know how upset he was when he found out we were going to make a living here. He didn’t want us to leave.”
“I know, I know,” Gilbert answered. “He made you promise as long as you two keep each other happy, he’d be okay with letting the two of you live far away or something cheesy like that.”
Antonio laughed. “It’s not cheesy, Gil. For Feliciano, it’s serious. Hey, wait. Isn’t this a long distance call? Won’t it be expensive?”
“Well, it is, but I’m using Roderich’s phone anyway. There’s a very good reason why I called.”
Antonio’s smile dropped. Something unnamable rose in his throat. He felt a need to prepare himself for something he should know what but didn’t.
“Y’remember my brother?”
He blinked. “Yeah, Ludwig right? How is he?”
“Working,” Gilbert said. “Not the point. He’s accompanying Feliciano on vacation.”
“That’s great! Where?”
“Osaka. They want to visit you and Lovino.”
Well, shit.
♠ we make promises according to our hopes and keep them according to our fears
11:27am and the telephone of Rose Bakery rang urgently in its receiver. Francis called out a lazy ‘yes yes’ in Japanese before picking it up.
“Bonjour, Rose Bakery. How may we help you?”
“Francis? Francis Bonnefoy? It’s me!”
“…Antonio? Boy am I getting a lot of blasts from the pasts recently,” Francis replied smiling. He placed the cordless between his ear and his shoulder and continued baking. “How is Kobe?”
“Kobe’s fine. It’s a fine city,” said his old friend in a rush. “I’ve got a huge problem and you need to help.”
“Oh, but how rude, cher. We haven’t talked in a long time and you press your problem upon me? Shouldn’t we meet in some café and catch up with each other’s lives first? We’ve both been awfully busy.” he said teasingly.
“Francis, I’m serious. Gilbert called-“
“Gil?” That was a surprise.
“-yes, Gil. Listen. Feliciano and his boyfriend are coming to Osaka for a visit.”
“…and how would that be a problem for you?”
“Lovino! He wants to visit Lovino! If the boy finds out we’re not together anymore, he’s going to kill me!”
A small weight dropped in Francis’ chest. “Is…is this about the promise thing?” He really didn’t have time to deal with anything like this. Not with Arthur and the boys in his life, or rather, messing up his life (were they, really?). “Feliciano’s not a kid anymore. You and Lovino had a falling out is all. Provide him with a proper explanation. I really don’t understand why you kept this a secret from him. For all you know, Lovino might have already told him.”
There was silence on the other line and something clicked.
“…you still like him?!” Francis cried out, making his subordinates jump in surprise.
“Lovino isn’t the type to tell his brother things like that,” Antonio mumbled and Francis sighed like Atlas asked to hold Mars along with Earth.
“You still like him,” he stated.
“We didn’t break up on the clearest of terms, you know.” Antonio said, more reasoning himself than anyone else. “Our joint account in ZY is still active, though it isn’t being touched. It’s…it’s Lovino who would eventually tire of me, I guess. I mean, he did. I just…I just wanted to give him space.”
Francis frowned. “Don’t you think it’s really been a while since that space you gave? It’s kind of useless chasing after someone who doesn’t care for you anymore.”
“Don’t say that Francis…”
He heard his friend’s voice breaking. It’s serious. He placed the bowl of batter he was whisking down and gestured to Aline, who promptly took over his work while he went to his office to talk properly. “What happened, Antonio?”
“My dance,” was his reply. “Natalia and Katya have noticed. I haven’t been doing very well. I’ve tried to do my best but it just isn’t right.”
Francis listened. Dance was very important to Antonio. It was his way of expression, his passion. It was an essential part of who he was. When his old friend had first arrived to Japan three years ago with the intention of opening a dance school, Lovino had been his partner. Watching the pair was beyond words. Gorgeous, brilliant, genius, sensual, sexy were nowhere near properly describing the mastery of their craft. Somehow something fell apart along the way and here Antonio was, pining away while Lovino worked in a bar somewhere in the city. A measly 30 minutes away by train. Were these two insane? They could be waiting for each other for all one or the other party knew.
Francis couldn’t see the point. If you were going to break up with someone, make it clean then go far far away. Like…from London to Osaka. His mind had unwittingly wandered to Arthur again.
“Lovino told me he didn’t want to feel like he was just support,” Antonio was saying, a story Francis knew but never really thought about. “Being my dance partner made him feel a bit unneeded. I didn’t know how it got into his head that when I find someone better than him, I’d leave. Of course we were together. I wanted to respect what he wanted when he told me he’d look for his own dance. We haven’t met since.”
“What bugs me, Antonio, is the fact you didn’t chase after him.” Francis said. “I mean, what happened to the you who devoted so much to him to the point it became really annoying? That was passion right there, you know? You need that back.”
“What Feliciano told us before we left got me thinking,” Antonio answered. “Lovino is someone who closes himself off for fear of being hurt. I don’t know, maybe it was the grandfather thing. I couldn’t blame the man, Feli is more outgoing. But still, he told me his brother is precious. It’s like Feli bequeathed Lovino to me and made me absolutely swear I’d make him happy at all times. After that, I was afraid of doing anything that’d hurt him. It was hard getting him to actually like me back. I wanted to keep him with me.”
Francis rolled his eyes. “Well, you haven’t been keeping him for a year now, have you?”
“Francis, what should I do? Feli’s visiting with Ludwig. If he finds out…”
“Listen to yourself. Do you want Lovino back because his little brother will get mad if he sees you haven’t or do you want him back that’d you go to the ends of the Earth for him? Say something cheesy now. If you don’t I swear I’ll hang up on you.”
There was a pitiful pause from the other line and Francis sighed. “…look, I’m sorry. Things have been confusing lately-“
“I want him back, Francis. He…he completes me.”
There was a paused before the baker burst out laughing. “You did it!” Francis yelped, gasping for air. “You really did say something cheesy! God, this is priceless. I wish Gilbert were here...”
There was a thud from the other end and he deduced Antonio had slammed his head against the desk or wall. “Francis…” he began warningly.
“I kid! I kid!” Francis replied. “Of course, I’ll help you. When is Feliciano’s flight arriving?”
“Tomorrow at 3:34pm. I’m leaving the school to Natalia and Katya until I patch things up with Lovino. Can I mooch around your apartment for a while? Thanks.”
“Hey woah, wait. You’ve decided-?” The line went dead.
Francis could tell, the next few God-knows-how-long were going to get even more complicated. True, there was no turning back now. His orderly life had been lost some couple of months ago. He found he rather liked that, it was thrilling. Plus, the old impulsive Antonio was back, just their university days.
♠ life measured in spoons of chocolate
At 12:47pm, the height of the lunch hour, the welcome bell of Rose Bakery jingled merrily. Somewhere above the crowd rose a greeting and Antonio looked about expectantly, a goofy smile plastered on his face.
“Yes, sir? What may we get for you?” one of the ladies behind the counter asked him breathlessly. She was restocking a shelf full of raisin bread loaves.
“Oh no, I’m just looking around,” Antonio said waving his hand.
She flashed him a brilliant smile. “Feel free to take your time.”
Antonio milled about, watching the come and go of people of Francis’ café-bakery. Actually, it was only his second time to be inside the place. He sat in one corner and ordered a cup of coffee. The smell and blend reminded him of home and he took time sipping it.
Francis Bonnefoy and Gilbert Bielschmidt have been his very close friends since high school. The nature of their parents’ work brought their families to Rome and in the International School they enrolled, they met Lovino and Feliciano Vargas.
Antonio, Francis, Gilbert and Lovino were classmates during their second year. Ludwig Bielschmidt and Feliciano were on their first. The group spent every break together. It was funny how they stuck. Francis was a raging pervert and he and Gil loved to chase skirts with unsurprisingly little success. Gil and Ludwig loved to drink, the former everyday and the latter only after exams. Francis and Feliciano bonded extensively over food. Antonio back then was uninhibited, single and crazy about dance. Hanging out, he often moved to the shy virtuoso of Lovino’s acoustic guitar. Looking back, Antonio figured all of them stuck by each other because they more or less understood the unease and confusion of being attracted to both genders.
It took an eternity for Ludwig to reciprocate Feliciano’s feelings. It actually wasn’t until senior year of university that they officially became a couple. Feliciano didn’t exactly undergo some heroic wooing adventure to get the man of his dreams. He and Ludwig, how would he characterize them? They had a blurred line between friendship and love from the start. It seemed like only a matter of time they’d officially be together. Feliciano gave his love to anyone and anything (pasta, especially) but when it came to Ludwig, his smile and gait were special. Ludwig (a man so disciplined and by the book it was hard to believe he and Gilbert were brothers) had, in turn, not known how to handle all the affection suddenly showered upon him, it took quite a while to convince him there wasn’t a handbook on how to simply love another person.
Antonio, for his part, had a certain fondness for Lovino because of his skill with the guitar. He had this inferiority complex with Feliciano. It was quite known that the younger of the two was more artistic, friendly and outgoing whereas Lovino was irritable, a bit weak-wllled and short-tempered, a fact Antonio loved to exploit whenever he could. He enjoyed teasing Lovino and watching his expressions change. What made him fall in love was his audition for the Dance Club in junior year of high school. Antonio had been the president of the club and one of the judges during that afternoon. When Lovino had been tasked to dance the ladies’ part of the tango and the men’s part of the cha-cha with a club member, how the boy moved, Antonio couldn’t describe. It wasn’t perfect but something in the way Lovino danced had him transfixed.
His tango was fierce, spicy, crisp and sure. His eyes had such intensity as they gazed into his partner’s, it sent shivers down Antonio’s spine. Lovino had looked so bright and radiating happiness bit by bit as if to say this art was how he built and expressed himself best. He was so unlike himself that Antonio had an insatiable urge to possess him, make him his to see and provoke a side of him unknown to anyone else.
University came and proved the friends were quite set on what they wanted to be. Francis and Gilbert (whom Antonio teased would forever be single) took up business management. Antonio and Lovino majored in Latin Dance. Feliciano took up Visual Arts while Ludwig took veterinary medicine. After graduation, it was clear they were going their separate ways, but they never failed to stay in contact with each other.
Francis was the first to leave after pursuing a three year program in a culinary institute. He went to Dubai to work in a five star hotel and Antonio, whom he called almost daily, learned how the demand of the big kitchens was extremely taxing on the mind and body. Sure enough, Francis quit after a year and a half and established a bakery in Osaka. Contact with him grew difficult ever since.
Gilbert returned to Berlin to pursue law and it kept him incredibly busy for nearly eight years. Ludwig stayed in Rome working as a veterinarian while Feliciano became a freelance photographer. Antonio and Lovino trained in a dance school in Florence and became instructors before deciding to leave, too, for Japan. Feliciano had been so strongly against it, it was surprising.
“Brother’s never been out of the country!”
They had been in the Vargas home. Feliciano was emphatic, gesturing with a half-finished mug of hot chocolate in his hands that Ludwig had to pry away from him for fear of showering everyone with the drink. Gilbert and Francis were on video call.
“How do you know Japan would be the place to go?” he continued, distressed. “Do you know Japanese? Can you really put up a dance school there? Brother, Japan is far! How am I supposed to take care of you?”
It was in that moment, Antonio surmised, that Lovino snapped. Everything he had kept and boiled inside him ever since he knew no smiles of their grandfather would be sincerely meant for him burst from his chest like water from an old, worn dam.
“The hell, Feliciano! I can take care of my own self, thank you very much! For once in my life, I’m pursuing what I want and what I’m good at. I’m not going to let myself be confined in one space because you want me to be. Did you know how I felt when you were running around all over the place holding your little exhibits while nonno gushed day and night about you?”
Lovino had angry tears in his eyes but had yet to break. Antonio hadn’t made a move to stop him and Francis and Gilbert were merely stunned. Ludwig was torn between stopping them before a row could start and listening to the older Vargas defend himself. Feliciano, with a look of confused helplessness, sank into the sofa.
“Brother,” he began weakly. “I never meant it that way. I was worried! You and Antonio are practically starting from scratch. You just never struck me as the type who’d go along with that kind of arrangement…”
“Then have faith in me, Feli. Lovino and I are going to make this work-“ Antonio said but stopped as Lovino stood and silenced him with a wave of his hand.
“Feliciano,” he said evenly. “I’m not like you.” He took a breath and continued. “I wish I could be like you. You’re happy and it’s contagious. You’re good in anything you do. But me, if I’m going to prove that I can do something for myself and that people can be proud of me without comparison, I have to move far away and start afresh.”
Antonio remained quiet. He watched as Feliciano’s expression shifted from confusion to realization to weak protest.
“Brother, you never had a reason to compete with me,” he said quietly. “I never thought of it that way…”
“It’s rather the point he’s trying to make,” Ludwig amended, hoping to sound peacable. “Personally, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with Lovino going to Japan. Antonio is with him.”
“Eeeeh?!” Feliciano exclaimed in disbelief.
“I agree,” Francis said over the video call. “I can actually help you two set up school. Osaka is quite receptive to new business recently. Although you two need a lot of capital.”
“I’m sure both of you have savings,” Gilbert added. “Goodness knew Tony’s been saving like mad for the past two years.”
Lovino nodded. “It’s hard but we’re not unprepared.” His brother still looked hesitant so he shot a glare at his partner and hissed, “Back me up, damn it!”
Antonio smiled sheepishly at a sullen Feliciano. “I ask your blessing, Feli. We wouldn’t want to leave on bad terms.”
“Ve…I have no choice. Everything is in place, but Antonio…” Feliciano stood and faced him, looking dead serious, which was rare. “Promise me you’ll make my brother absolutely happy or else I’ll be bringing him back home!”
Five years later, Antonio couldn’t admit to himself he had failed keeping that promise. He was scared of losing Lovino, whom he wasn’t exactly sure had already proved something of himself even after parting from his homeland for so long.
Antonio put down his coffee cup and sighed.
“Oi, how long have you been sitting there?” Francis greeted, surprised.
The Spaniard looked up and brightened. “Francis!” He leapt from his seat and gave an enthusiastic hug. “I haven’t seen you in years! It’s hard to imagine we’re only a train-ride away from each other!”
Francis sighed and smiled. “It’s hard to imagine it’s been years. You haven’t changed a bit. Have you eaten?”
“On the way here,” he replied, pulling away. “Why?” He glanced at the clock, saw 2:11pm and on cue, his stomach rumbled. The baker laughed and invited him in the kitchen.
“Come Tonio, let’s have lunch. I’ve got news. Apparently, I have this friend who’s actually a regular at Lovino’s bar…”
♠ two beans are different beans, even if they're in the same pod
The time was 5:37pm when Feliciano Vargas and Ludwig Bielschmidt raced hand in hand out of the Shinsaibashi Station, pulling their luggage behind them. The wheels made a grating noise on the cobbled lanes of the shopping street.
“Ve~ We’re late for our check-in!” the Italian wailed.
Ludwig fumbled with a map of Osaka’s railways and a crude, printed diagram of the route to their hotel. “We should be near. The email said the walk from the station to the hotel only takes a minute.” He sighed. “I didn’t know the immigration would take so long.”
They walked down the shopping street, half pushed by the crowd and half following some vague direction on the print out which could very well be the other way around if they flipped the paper over. It was terribly crowded, noisy and bright. Restaurants, retail stores and pachinkos were filling with people winding down after work. The roof high above their heads reflected orange and yellow from all the flashing neon.
“Are we going in the right direction?” Ludwig asked, easily looking over the heads of the slow-moving crowd and not seeing a definite end after the main road. Shinsaibashi-suji seemed insanely long. Were all these people seriously walking? No wonder all the Japanese looked fit.
“Ve…” Feliciano said mournfully and turned about. “Are we supposed to see a sign pointing to where our hotel is?”
Ludwig looked at the map again. “We’re supposed to turn right somewhere…”
“I’m hungry.”
His companion sighed and put down their luggage. “Can’t you get a hold of Antonio or Lovino?”
“Silly Ludwig, their apartment’s in Kobe, not Osaka,” Feliciano said and began admiring the window display of a Lolita dress shop.
Ludwig mentally face-palmed. Aren’t they the ones we’re visiting? he wanted to say when his boyfriend jumped and ran ahead.
“I know! Let’s ask for directions!”
Ludwig let out an unintelligible sound of panic, gathered their things and ran after him. “Wait! Do you even know how to ask for directions?”
“Easy! I point and say ‘doko?’”
They had already gotten lost twice in the subway and from that experience, asking directions from random Japanese shop owners wasn’t the best idea. Granted, they were hospitable enough to actually leave their stalls and physically direct you when their English couldn’t and it was admirable. But by the time they found Osaka’s Tourist Information somewhere in Namba, they’ve heard enough ‘You go…anou…hoteru ka? Demo wakaranai…aah…you go outo…tuhn, tuhn refute. No, raito…,etc. etc.’ more than they would have liked.
Why the heck did they forget the phrase book at home? Ludwig lamented. It was probably Gilbert’s fault, since he dropped by a week ago to borrow and forgot to give it back. They were doomed. He finally caught up to Feliciano bouncing at the end of a line for a fruit shake stand.
“I thought you were going to ask for directions.”
“I am! After I get a drink. Ve~ walking around is tiring.”
Ludwig sighed once more, figuring he might as well get one too since he was already in line. He looked up at the colorful overhead menu, prepared for a barrage of squiggly characters when, to his relief, he saw English translations below the items. Their turn came and Feliciano beamed at an expectant-looking Herakles.
“I want…ve, what would be good, Ludwig?”
A vein popped on Ludwig’s forehead. “Don’t tell me, the whole time you were standing here, you didn’t pick a drink?”
“But they all sound so yummy!”
“I’d recommend watermelon, sir,” Herakles suggested in English. “They’re in season and very refreshing.”
“Veee~!” Feliciano exclaimed and violently shook Ludwig’s arm. “He speaks English very well! We can ask them for directions!”
As much as Ludwig wanted to tell his boyfriend off for ignoring the cashier, he was immensely relieved. “We’ll…we’ll have two watermelon shakes, then,” he told Herakles.
“Of course, coming right up-“
“Could you tell us where Hotel VF is?” Feliciano interjected, eagerly slapping their printed map on the counter.
Herakles smiled. “Sure,” he said and retrieved a pen. Studying the drawing for a few moments, he encircled the couple’s destination and placed the tip of his pen on where they currently were.
“From here, you go straight, cross the main road and make a left turn after four small streets,” he said and traced their supposed route. “Did you get that?”
Feliciano’s face fell and Ludwig tried to smooth the crease between his eyebrows. Herakles looked at them curiously. “Is something wrong?”
“Ve…we have to go back from where we came!” Feliciano wailed once more.
Ludwig took the watermelon shakes handed to him by Hassan and gave one to the distressed Italian before paying the bill. “Thank you very much,” he told Herakles. “You’ve been a huge help.”
“No problem,” the cashier said cheerfully. “Have a nice day.”
Feliciano took a hearty sip of his shake in a sort of consolation for having to walk so far again. He took a colorful business card from one end of the counter. “Ve~ What is this street called? It’s full of restaurants.”
“Dotombori,” Herakles replied.
“Uwa, everyone has business cards here, Ludwig, see? We should come here again! Their shakes are really good.”
“Yes, yes,” Ludwig answered absently, gathered their things again and his boyfriend before heading back the way they came.
Herakles waved them a goodbye.
♠ the whole wide world
The clock read 6:20pm when Hotel VF receptionist, Ms. Kumiko, looked up from her work at the sound of luggage being rolled past the automatic doors. She called out a welcome.
Two disheveled tourists, clearly Caucasian, nodded in acknowledgement and returned their greeting with a ‘Good evening’ in English.
“We got lost!” Feliciano said conversationally, dropping his things on the carpet fronting the humble waiting area.
“We’re very sorry about that,” Ludwig added and took out their passports and hotel reservation so they could properly check in.
“It’s alright,” Ms. Kumiko smiled. “Welcome to Hotel VF. Breakfast is buffet and starts 7am tomorrow.” She read their names on their airline tickets and thought this must be the pair scheduled to arrive two hours earlier. She handed their documents back. “Your room is at the ninth floor. Left side.”
The couple bowed their thanks and stumbled into the elevator.
“Heeeh, they looked very handsome,” said Kenta, a busboy, joining Kumiko behind the reception desk after having finished his cigarette break.
“They are,” Kumiko said with a sigh. “Too bad they’re both hooked already.”
Kenta frowned. “Huh? How did you know they weren’t single? Did you see wedding rings?”
Ms. Kumiko didn’t reply until fifteen minutes later, when Feliciano and Ludwig emerged from the elevator, luggage-less and ready to sightsee. They practically ran out the tiny lobby hand in hand. Kenta stared.
“Need I explain it?” she asked the busboy with a smirk and he shook his head.
There were a lot of perks to this job, and the biggest was meeting all sorts of people from all over the world, or rather passively observing them up close. Kumiko didn’t discriminate and despite only seeing her clients, foreign and Japanese, leave and arrive, it gave her a strange comfort knowing the world didn’t seem as big and radically different as the TV made it out to be.
♠ it's just the way things are
Ludwig checked his cellphone to see if the cellular company successfully activated his roaming sim. The time on the screen flashed 6.42pm.
He and Feliciano had been walking aimlessly along Shinsaibashi-suji toward Dotombori (as the places they knew expanded) window-shopping until they got hungry.
“Really, Feliciano, have you gotten in touch with Antonio or your brother?” he asked, looking up from his phone.
“Ve~ I called their apartment in Kobe but no one was answering…”
“Have you tried Antonio’s school? Or Francis at least.”
Feliciano pulled out his own mobile. “I think the numbers Gilbert gave me are old.”
Ludwig browsed his address book and found the number of the Latin Dance School given by his brother. He pressed the call button and waited for someone to pick up on the other line. Feliciano watched him.
“Ludwig, what if Antonio’s secretary is Japanese?”
Someone had already answered before the German could even consider that possibility and utter ‘crap you’re right’.
“Irashaimasen, Carriedo School of Latin Dance.”
Well, that last bit was pronounced quite understandably. Ludwig ventured a hello. There was a pause.
“Good evening. Carriedo School of Latin Dance, how may we help you?”
He sighed in relief (for the umpteenth time that day). “Yes, good evening. Is Sir…Antonio Carriedo available to speak to?”
“I’m very sorry,” said the slightly accented lady voice from the other line. “But Carriedo-sensei is on an indefinite leave. Would you like to leave a message?”
Ludwig looked at Feliciano, who cocked his head to the side questioningly. An indefinite leave? Oh he knew this whole surprise visit thing was risky. “Um, no, but could you tell me where he is?”
“Carriedo-sensei has gone to Osaka, but that is all we may disclose,” answered the lady voice cooly.
“Right. Thank you very much,” and Ludwig hung up.
Feliciano clung to his arm, bouncing in his usual manner. “What did they say?”
“Antonio’s in Osaka.”
“…really? Ve~ it’s fate! What about brother?”
“I…I suppose they’re together,” Ludwig replied, unwilling to admit he had forgotten to inquire about him too.
“Silly Ludwig,” Feliciano sang, as if having read his thoughts. “You must be hungry. Come, let’s find something to eat.”
They walked a distance, quietly admiring the flashing lights and the people that passed them by-“Ve~ the beauty of the Japanese is something different!” “You’re right. Look, their businessmen have boyband hair.” “Ludwig! They’re the same age as us! …maybe, ve~”-letting the fact they were on vacation sink in like cool night air in the summer humidity. They came to a stop before a stretch of small restaurants and bars. Various hoards of people entered and left them, and in their wake, calls of thanks and grill smoke followed, then the doors would close again.
One such establishment looked particularly quaint. The door was glass paneled oak, making it hard to see the inside, but it had a ‘manly pub’ feel to the place. A group of buzzed salary men who had gone drinking after work exited it.
“I can’t stay for another round, Sadiq,” said a nasal, British voice that made Feliciano and Ludwig turn from their idle surveying. “The boys are waiting and I promised I’d have dinner with them and Francis.”
“You’re turning quite the family man there, Arty,” was the gruff reply.
Halfway out the door of the ornate bar stood two foreigners accompanied with two other Japanese. They were all in suits.
“Take care, Asa-san!” they said waved.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” the man named Arthur said and shook hands with an unseen personage inside. “Thanks for having me again, Lovino.”
“Don’t mention it. At least you’re sober today.”
Feliciano’s eyes widened as the figure of his brother, Lovino Vargas dressed in a smart barman’s attire, emerged to see Arthur off. It was so absurd yet real, as if the world had contracted once again. Ludwig almost dropped their camera.
“Fratello?”
Lovino turned, not used to hearing his native tongue spoken along Dotombori. He froze when he saw his brother and boyfriend silhouetted against the shop lights, waving frantically as if they had simply met on the way home back in Rome.
“…Feliciano?” he whispered in disbelief.
“Lovino!” his younger brother called and ran to hug him. Ludwig smiled warmly at the sight.
The older brother looked far from a definite reaction. He settled for laughing. “Even the potato bastard is here! What…what are you doing in Osaka?”
“We’re on vacation!” Feliciano declared. “A surprise visit for you~ Are you surprised?”
Lovino hugged his brother again, longer and tighter. “Am I ever…”
“Where’s Antonio?” Ludwig asked, peeking over the Italian’s shoulder to see if the Spaniard was in the bar with him, having that characteristic whimsical look on his face that made you imagine animated flowers dancing beside his head.
There was a pregnant silence amidst the hustle and bustle of the shopping street and a mysterious weight settled on their chests. Ludwig sensed something was wrong.
Lovino sighed and gripped Feliciano’s shoulder. “We…we broke up a year ago. I think.”
The statement took a while to sink in.
“…eh?”
to the Second Degree Part 2
Category: Axis Powers Hetalia / Hetalia World Series
Characters: Greece, Egypt, Japan, Turkey, France, England, America, Canada, Finland, Sweden, Sealand, North and South Italy, Russia, Germany, Prussia, Spain, Belarus, Ukraine, Lithuania, Estonia, Latvia, Poland, China, South Korea
Pairings: France/England, Spain/South Italy, Germany/North Italy, Lithuania/Poland, Turkey/Japan, Finland/Sweden
Genre/Rating/Warnings: friendship, romance, drama, family/PG/AU, human names, shifting POVs, language shifts (which I really hope people won’t get confused by)
Summary/Excerpt: The Six Degrees of Separation is the idea that everyone in this world is connected by at most six people. It’s an empowering, intimidating thought to know that the world can be shrunk within just one city and that lives begin to affect one another as people converge and intersect. Our story begins with a pair of brothers who manage a fruit shake stand in Dotombori, Osaka and bear witness to different fates being drawn together from all over the globe.
Prologue | 1st° Part 1 | 1st° Part 2 | 2nd° Part 1 | 2nd° Part 2 | 2nd° Part 3
3rd° | 4th° | 5th° | 6th° | Epilogue
In this installment: We meet a group of good friends with colorful lives and colorful troubles.
The Six Degrees of Separation
Second Degree (Part 1)
♠ you'll see, like magic, how things simply fall in place
Antonio Carriedo would open his School of Latin Dance at 6:00am. An hour would have him preparing for his first class. Natalia and Katya, his best students, would come in at 7:00 for practice. They were Russian, and often helped Antonio organize his classes or do demo moves. He was torn between wanting to pay them and letting them help for free. He felt bad that they were with him the entire day, but it was their choice anyway.
To be honest, Antonio felt he couldn’t teach them any more than what they knew. Their technique was perfect. Katya had told him once they had been a part of a ballet troupe, but had to stop because their brother (and their only family it seems) had to look for a job with a more stable income. He became the owner of a humble touring service stationed in Japan, and so the sisters followed him there.
Antonio’s first class of the day was the tango. It was an advanced class. Natalia and Katya participated, along with other young students who in one way or another made a living through dance. Antonio watched them grind into each others’ hips, caress each others’ arms, move their feet sharply and surely and stare into each others’ eyes with such burning intensity as they were taught but he felt he was missing something here.
His eyes followed Natalia in her navy blue leotards. Her partner was Tachi today, one of the few men actually taller than her. She looked like she wanted to eat him, but aside from that and her perfect technique, there seemed to be very little heart in the way she moved.
Antonio shook his head. No, not heart. It took a lot of heart to pursue dancing. A better word would perhaps be feel. She wasn’t into the dance quite yet. Well now, he did have something to teach these Russian sisters, he though idly. But how? He himself wasn’t feeling anything as of late. It worried him that he wouldn’t be able to dance properly. His grandmother back in Barcelona had told him not to ignore gut feel, because it was a sign from the earth that you had to prepare yourself for something life changing.
Or maybe Antonio already missed such a change and he was feeling some sickening after-effects. He’d rather the earth be angry with him. The him right now wasn’t deserving of any help from the cosmos.
“Sensei?” called one of his students. “Is this sequence correct?”
Antonio blinked. Time to work, Tonio. Put on a happy smile and get out there. He slid from his seat and gently whisked Katya away from her current dance partner who enjoyed staring at her chest more than anything.
“Not quite. I’ll demonstrate it once again, so please watch carefully.”
♠ a splash of sunset against the harvest
“Are you alright, sensei?” Katya asked, handing him a bottle of cold water. Class ended at 10:30am. The summer often bid hell heat for his dance classes. Antonio took it with a nod of thanks and drank.
“I think I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” he laughed.
Katya glanced at her sister behind her, her worried look replied with Natalia’s usual stoic face. She shrugged. They were alone in the dance studio and the next class wasn’t until 3:00pm.
“I feel much better, though,” Antonio continued. “Shall we practice your jive today? I know the footwork can be tricky but you’ll soon get it.”
Katya hesitated. After class had ended , Natalia had pulled her aside and expressed dismay that lately, all Antonio ever seemed to dance with now was regret and a twinge of anger. They wanted the teacher they admired when they first met a year ago-passionate, controlled, expressive and most importantly, happy.
“But sister, he’s heartbroken!” Katya had answered. Natalia wouldn’t take it for an excuse. It has been months. Too long for someone to get over a broken heart according to her. She had always been a perfectionist.
“I came here to improve my dance, sister,” Natalia replied coldly. “Without sensei’s old dance partner, he might even not want to teach anymore. You get that too, don’t you?”
Katya couldn’t lie. Since the day Antonio’s one and only dance partner left the studio, their instructor hasn’t been himself, like he was missing a limb and no matter what he got into, he couldn’t bring himself to fully engage himself, something that dance needed.
“Are we ready?” Antonio’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts.
“N-not today, sensei,” Katya said, looking at Natalia for help. Her sister merely stared. Today was it.
“Again?” Antonio remarked, a smile of apology gracing his face. “It can’t be helped. It’s really hot. What will we do today? Draft a simple dance for the kids later? I have to teach them a new move today-”
“Sensei,” came Natalia with such force that Katya squeaked with fright. “That’s not it. It’s you. You’ve been out of it. Your tango is angry, your samba is angry, even your waltz is angry. Think about your students who look up to you. It’s bad for your work, sensei.”
Ah. Antonio sighed, his face turning into one of melancholy. “…I guess,” he replied, sounding defeated. “I’m a bad teacher, aren’t I?”
Natalia bristled, about to tell him off, when he continued.
“I wouldn’t call it anger, though. More like loneliness.”
The sisters exchanged uncomfortable looks. Antonio stood and stretched.
“You’re right though, this really isn’t going to do me any good.” He flashed them a sad smile that made Natalia regret she spoke. “Best be a man and get over it, right?”
No. If you had the guts to do that, you would have a long time ago. You would have deemed dance more important and gotten your old form back. But you haven’t. You haven’t because…he is dance to you.
Natalia ‘tsk’-ed in annoyance. “Sensei, we didn’t mean-“
There was the ringing of the telephone. Antonio skipped to the reception desk and answered it.
“Good morning, Carriedo’s School of Latin Dance. How may we help you?”
“…Tony?”
His eyes widened. “Gilbert?”
“Yo, what’s up?”
“Gilbert!” A smile broke out on Antonio’s face, probably a real one that hasn’t graced him in a while. “It’s been ages. How are you?”
“I’ve been awesome, of course,” answered the man on the other line. The Russian sisters watched curiously as their teacher had suddenly started speaking in English. They supposed it was an old friend. He usually spoke in Spanish to relatives. It wasn’t like they didn’t understand what he was saying either.
“Jeez,” Gilbert continued. “We should have a reunion. Come back, here, won’t ya?”
Antonio shook his head as if the person he was talking to could see him. “I’d love to, Gil. I really would but I can’t go back there. You know that.”
“I don’t get it though. I mean, it’s not like he’s here for you to avoid. He’s actually there with you. You’re real illogical, man.”
“It’s not about him,” Antonio said. “It’s Feliciano. He’ll be really upset if he finds out I’ve broken up with his brother. You know how upset he was when he found out we were going to make a living here. He didn’t want us to leave.”
“I know, I know,” Gilbert answered. “He made you promise as long as you two keep each other happy, he’d be okay with letting the two of you live far away or something cheesy like that.”
Antonio laughed. “It’s not cheesy, Gil. For Feliciano, it’s serious. Hey, wait. Isn’t this a long distance call? Won’t it be expensive?”
“Well, it is, but I’m using Roderich’s phone anyway. There’s a very good reason why I called.”
Antonio’s smile dropped. Something unnamable rose in his throat. He felt a need to prepare himself for something he should know what but didn’t.
“Y’remember my brother?”
He blinked. “Yeah, Ludwig right? How is he?”
“Working,” Gilbert said. “Not the point. He’s accompanying Feliciano on vacation.”
“That’s great! Where?”
“Osaka. They want to visit you and Lovino.”
Well, shit.
♠ we make promises according to our hopes and keep them according to our fears
11:27am and the telephone of Rose Bakery rang urgently in its receiver. Francis called out a lazy ‘yes yes’ in Japanese before picking it up.
“Bonjour, Rose Bakery. How may we help you?”
“Francis? Francis Bonnefoy? It’s me!”
“…Antonio? Boy am I getting a lot of blasts from the pasts recently,” Francis replied smiling. He placed the cordless between his ear and his shoulder and continued baking. “How is Kobe?”
“Kobe’s fine. It’s a fine city,” said his old friend in a rush. “I’ve got a huge problem and you need to help.”
“Oh, but how rude, cher. We haven’t talked in a long time and you press your problem upon me? Shouldn’t we meet in some café and catch up with each other’s lives first? We’ve both been awfully busy.” he said teasingly.
“Francis, I’m serious. Gilbert called-“
“Gil?” That was a surprise.
“-yes, Gil. Listen. Feliciano and his boyfriend are coming to Osaka for a visit.”
“…and how would that be a problem for you?”
“Lovino! He wants to visit Lovino! If the boy finds out we’re not together anymore, he’s going to kill me!”
A small weight dropped in Francis’ chest. “Is…is this about the promise thing?” He really didn’t have time to deal with anything like this. Not with Arthur and the boys in his life, or rather, messing up his life (were they, really?). “Feliciano’s not a kid anymore. You and Lovino had a falling out is all. Provide him with a proper explanation. I really don’t understand why you kept this a secret from him. For all you know, Lovino might have already told him.”
There was silence on the other line and something clicked.
“…you still like him?!” Francis cried out, making his subordinates jump in surprise.
“Lovino isn’t the type to tell his brother things like that,” Antonio mumbled and Francis sighed like Atlas asked to hold Mars along with Earth.
“You still like him,” he stated.
“We didn’t break up on the clearest of terms, you know.” Antonio said, more reasoning himself than anyone else. “Our joint account in ZY is still active, though it isn’t being touched. It’s…it’s Lovino who would eventually tire of me, I guess. I mean, he did. I just…I just wanted to give him space.”
Francis frowned. “Don’t you think it’s really been a while since that space you gave? It’s kind of useless chasing after someone who doesn’t care for you anymore.”
“Don’t say that Francis…”
He heard his friend’s voice breaking. It’s serious. He placed the bowl of batter he was whisking down and gestured to Aline, who promptly took over his work while he went to his office to talk properly. “What happened, Antonio?”
“My dance,” was his reply. “Natalia and Katya have noticed. I haven’t been doing very well. I’ve tried to do my best but it just isn’t right.”
Francis listened. Dance was very important to Antonio. It was his way of expression, his passion. It was an essential part of who he was. When his old friend had first arrived to Japan three years ago with the intention of opening a dance school, Lovino had been his partner. Watching the pair was beyond words. Gorgeous, brilliant, genius, sensual, sexy were nowhere near properly describing the mastery of their craft. Somehow something fell apart along the way and here Antonio was, pining away while Lovino worked in a bar somewhere in the city. A measly 30 minutes away by train. Were these two insane? They could be waiting for each other for all one or the other party knew.
Francis couldn’t see the point. If you were going to break up with someone, make it clean then go far far away. Like…from London to Osaka. His mind had unwittingly wandered to Arthur again.
“Lovino told me he didn’t want to feel like he was just support,” Antonio was saying, a story Francis knew but never really thought about. “Being my dance partner made him feel a bit unneeded. I didn’t know how it got into his head that when I find someone better than him, I’d leave. Of course we were together. I wanted to respect what he wanted when he told me he’d look for his own dance. We haven’t met since.”
“What bugs me, Antonio, is the fact you didn’t chase after him.” Francis said. “I mean, what happened to the you who devoted so much to him to the point it became really annoying? That was passion right there, you know? You need that back.”
“What Feliciano told us before we left got me thinking,” Antonio answered. “Lovino is someone who closes himself off for fear of being hurt. I don’t know, maybe it was the grandfather thing. I couldn’t blame the man, Feli is more outgoing. But still, he told me his brother is precious. It’s like Feli bequeathed Lovino to me and made me absolutely swear I’d make him happy at all times. After that, I was afraid of doing anything that’d hurt him. It was hard getting him to actually like me back. I wanted to keep him with me.”
Francis rolled his eyes. “Well, you haven’t been keeping him for a year now, have you?”
“Francis, what should I do? Feli’s visiting with Ludwig. If he finds out…”
“Listen to yourself. Do you want Lovino back because his little brother will get mad if he sees you haven’t or do you want him back that’d you go to the ends of the Earth for him? Say something cheesy now. If you don’t I swear I’ll hang up on you.”
There was a pitiful pause from the other line and Francis sighed. “…look, I’m sorry. Things have been confusing lately-“
“I want him back, Francis. He…he completes me.”
There was a paused before the baker burst out laughing. “You did it!” Francis yelped, gasping for air. “You really did say something cheesy! God, this is priceless. I wish Gilbert were here...”
There was a thud from the other end and he deduced Antonio had slammed his head against the desk or wall. “Francis…” he began warningly.
“I kid! I kid!” Francis replied. “Of course, I’ll help you. When is Feliciano’s flight arriving?”
“Tomorrow at 3:34pm. I’m leaving the school to Natalia and Katya until I patch things up with Lovino. Can I mooch around your apartment for a while? Thanks.”
“Hey woah, wait. You’ve decided-?” The line went dead.
Francis could tell, the next few God-knows-how-long were going to get even more complicated. True, there was no turning back now. His orderly life had been lost some couple of months ago. He found he rather liked that, it was thrilling. Plus, the old impulsive Antonio was back, just their university days.
♠ life measured in spoons of chocolate
At 12:47pm, the height of the lunch hour, the welcome bell of Rose Bakery jingled merrily. Somewhere above the crowd rose a greeting and Antonio looked about expectantly, a goofy smile plastered on his face.
“Yes, sir? What may we get for you?” one of the ladies behind the counter asked him breathlessly. She was restocking a shelf full of raisin bread loaves.
“Oh no, I’m just looking around,” Antonio said waving his hand.
She flashed him a brilliant smile. “Feel free to take your time.”
Antonio milled about, watching the come and go of people of Francis’ café-bakery. Actually, it was only his second time to be inside the place. He sat in one corner and ordered a cup of coffee. The smell and blend reminded him of home and he took time sipping it.
Francis Bonnefoy and Gilbert Bielschmidt have been his very close friends since high school. The nature of their parents’ work brought their families to Rome and in the International School they enrolled, they met Lovino and Feliciano Vargas.
Antonio, Francis, Gilbert and Lovino were classmates during their second year. Ludwig Bielschmidt and Feliciano were on their first. The group spent every break together. It was funny how they stuck. Francis was a raging pervert and he and Gil loved to chase skirts with unsurprisingly little success. Gil and Ludwig loved to drink, the former everyday and the latter only after exams. Francis and Feliciano bonded extensively over food. Antonio back then was uninhibited, single and crazy about dance. Hanging out, he often moved to the shy virtuoso of Lovino’s acoustic guitar. Looking back, Antonio figured all of them stuck by each other because they more or less understood the unease and confusion of being attracted to both genders.
It took an eternity for Ludwig to reciprocate Feliciano’s feelings. It actually wasn’t until senior year of university that they officially became a couple. Feliciano didn’t exactly undergo some heroic wooing adventure to get the man of his dreams. He and Ludwig, how would he characterize them? They had a blurred line between friendship and love from the start. It seemed like only a matter of time they’d officially be together. Feliciano gave his love to anyone and anything (pasta, especially) but when it came to Ludwig, his smile and gait were special. Ludwig (a man so disciplined and by the book it was hard to believe he and Gilbert were brothers) had, in turn, not known how to handle all the affection suddenly showered upon him, it took quite a while to convince him there wasn’t a handbook on how to simply love another person.
Antonio, for his part, had a certain fondness for Lovino because of his skill with the guitar. He had this inferiority complex with Feliciano. It was quite known that the younger of the two was more artistic, friendly and outgoing whereas Lovino was irritable, a bit weak-wllled and short-tempered, a fact Antonio loved to exploit whenever he could. He enjoyed teasing Lovino and watching his expressions change. What made him fall in love was his audition for the Dance Club in junior year of high school. Antonio had been the president of the club and one of the judges during that afternoon. When Lovino had been tasked to dance the ladies’ part of the tango and the men’s part of the cha-cha with a club member, how the boy moved, Antonio couldn’t describe. It wasn’t perfect but something in the way Lovino danced had him transfixed.
His tango was fierce, spicy, crisp and sure. His eyes had such intensity as they gazed into his partner’s, it sent shivers down Antonio’s spine. Lovino had looked so bright and radiating happiness bit by bit as if to say this art was how he built and expressed himself best. He was so unlike himself that Antonio had an insatiable urge to possess him, make him his to see and provoke a side of him unknown to anyone else.
University came and proved the friends were quite set on what they wanted to be. Francis and Gilbert (whom Antonio teased would forever be single) took up business management. Antonio and Lovino majored in Latin Dance. Feliciano took up Visual Arts while Ludwig took veterinary medicine. After graduation, it was clear they were going their separate ways, but they never failed to stay in contact with each other.
Francis was the first to leave after pursuing a three year program in a culinary institute. He went to Dubai to work in a five star hotel and Antonio, whom he called almost daily, learned how the demand of the big kitchens was extremely taxing on the mind and body. Sure enough, Francis quit after a year and a half and established a bakery in Osaka. Contact with him grew difficult ever since.
Gilbert returned to Berlin to pursue law and it kept him incredibly busy for nearly eight years. Ludwig stayed in Rome working as a veterinarian while Feliciano became a freelance photographer. Antonio and Lovino trained in a dance school in Florence and became instructors before deciding to leave, too, for Japan. Feliciano had been so strongly against it, it was surprising.
“Brother’s never been out of the country!”
They had been in the Vargas home. Feliciano was emphatic, gesturing with a half-finished mug of hot chocolate in his hands that Ludwig had to pry away from him for fear of showering everyone with the drink. Gilbert and Francis were on video call.
“How do you know Japan would be the place to go?” he continued, distressed. “Do you know Japanese? Can you really put up a dance school there? Brother, Japan is far! How am I supposed to take care of you?”
It was in that moment, Antonio surmised, that Lovino snapped. Everything he had kept and boiled inside him ever since he knew no smiles of their grandfather would be sincerely meant for him burst from his chest like water from an old, worn dam.
“The hell, Feliciano! I can take care of my own self, thank you very much! For once in my life, I’m pursuing what I want and what I’m good at. I’m not going to let myself be confined in one space because you want me to be. Did you know how I felt when you were running around all over the place holding your little exhibits while nonno gushed day and night about you?”
Lovino had angry tears in his eyes but had yet to break. Antonio hadn’t made a move to stop him and Francis and Gilbert were merely stunned. Ludwig was torn between stopping them before a row could start and listening to the older Vargas defend himself. Feliciano, with a look of confused helplessness, sank into the sofa.
“Brother,” he began weakly. “I never meant it that way. I was worried! You and Antonio are practically starting from scratch. You just never struck me as the type who’d go along with that kind of arrangement…”
“Then have faith in me, Feli. Lovino and I are going to make this work-“ Antonio said but stopped as Lovino stood and silenced him with a wave of his hand.
“Feliciano,” he said evenly. “I’m not like you.” He took a breath and continued. “I wish I could be like you. You’re happy and it’s contagious. You’re good in anything you do. But me, if I’m going to prove that I can do something for myself and that people can be proud of me without comparison, I have to move far away and start afresh.”
Antonio remained quiet. He watched as Feliciano’s expression shifted from confusion to realization to weak protest.
“Brother, you never had a reason to compete with me,” he said quietly. “I never thought of it that way…”
“It’s rather the point he’s trying to make,” Ludwig amended, hoping to sound peacable. “Personally, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with Lovino going to Japan. Antonio is with him.”
“Eeeeh?!” Feliciano exclaimed in disbelief.
“I agree,” Francis said over the video call. “I can actually help you two set up school. Osaka is quite receptive to new business recently. Although you two need a lot of capital.”
“I’m sure both of you have savings,” Gilbert added. “Goodness knew Tony’s been saving like mad for the past two years.”
Lovino nodded. “It’s hard but we’re not unprepared.” His brother still looked hesitant so he shot a glare at his partner and hissed, “Back me up, damn it!”
Antonio smiled sheepishly at a sullen Feliciano. “I ask your blessing, Feli. We wouldn’t want to leave on bad terms.”
“Ve…I have no choice. Everything is in place, but Antonio…” Feliciano stood and faced him, looking dead serious, which was rare. “Promise me you’ll make my brother absolutely happy or else I’ll be bringing him back home!”
Five years later, Antonio couldn’t admit to himself he had failed keeping that promise. He was scared of losing Lovino, whom he wasn’t exactly sure had already proved something of himself even after parting from his homeland for so long.
Antonio put down his coffee cup and sighed.
“Oi, how long have you been sitting there?” Francis greeted, surprised.
The Spaniard looked up and brightened. “Francis!” He leapt from his seat and gave an enthusiastic hug. “I haven’t seen you in years! It’s hard to imagine we’re only a train-ride away from each other!”
Francis sighed and smiled. “It’s hard to imagine it’s been years. You haven’t changed a bit. Have you eaten?”
“On the way here,” he replied, pulling away. “Why?” He glanced at the clock, saw 2:11pm and on cue, his stomach rumbled. The baker laughed and invited him in the kitchen.
“Come Tonio, let’s have lunch. I’ve got news. Apparently, I have this friend who’s actually a regular at Lovino’s bar…”
♠ two beans are different beans, even if they're in the same pod
The time was 5:37pm when Feliciano Vargas and Ludwig Bielschmidt raced hand in hand out of the Shinsaibashi Station, pulling their luggage behind them. The wheels made a grating noise on the cobbled lanes of the shopping street.
“Ve~ We’re late for our check-in!” the Italian wailed.
Ludwig fumbled with a map of Osaka’s railways and a crude, printed diagram of the route to their hotel. “We should be near. The email said the walk from the station to the hotel only takes a minute.” He sighed. “I didn’t know the immigration would take so long.”
They walked down the shopping street, half pushed by the crowd and half following some vague direction on the print out which could very well be the other way around if they flipped the paper over. It was terribly crowded, noisy and bright. Restaurants, retail stores and pachinkos were filling with people winding down after work. The roof high above their heads reflected orange and yellow from all the flashing neon.
“Are we going in the right direction?” Ludwig asked, easily looking over the heads of the slow-moving crowd and not seeing a definite end after the main road. Shinsaibashi-suji seemed insanely long. Were all these people seriously walking? No wonder all the Japanese looked fit.
“Ve…” Feliciano said mournfully and turned about. “Are we supposed to see a sign pointing to where our hotel is?”
Ludwig looked at the map again. “We’re supposed to turn right somewhere…”
“I’m hungry.”
His companion sighed and put down their luggage. “Can’t you get a hold of Antonio or Lovino?”
“Silly Ludwig, their apartment’s in Kobe, not Osaka,” Feliciano said and began admiring the window display of a Lolita dress shop.
Ludwig mentally face-palmed. Aren’t they the ones we’re visiting? he wanted to say when his boyfriend jumped and ran ahead.
“I know! Let’s ask for directions!”
Ludwig let out an unintelligible sound of panic, gathered their things and ran after him. “Wait! Do you even know how to ask for directions?”
“Easy! I point and say ‘doko?’”
They had already gotten lost twice in the subway and from that experience, asking directions from random Japanese shop owners wasn’t the best idea. Granted, they were hospitable enough to actually leave their stalls and physically direct you when their English couldn’t and it was admirable. But by the time they found Osaka’s Tourist Information somewhere in Namba, they’ve heard enough ‘You go…anou…hoteru ka? Demo wakaranai…aah…you go outo…tuhn, tuhn refute. No, raito…,etc. etc.’ more than they would have liked.
Why the heck did they forget the phrase book at home? Ludwig lamented. It was probably Gilbert’s fault, since he dropped by a week ago to borrow and forgot to give it back. They were doomed. He finally caught up to Feliciano bouncing at the end of a line for a fruit shake stand.
“I thought you were going to ask for directions.”
“I am! After I get a drink. Ve~ walking around is tiring.”
Ludwig sighed once more, figuring he might as well get one too since he was already in line. He looked up at the colorful overhead menu, prepared for a barrage of squiggly characters when, to his relief, he saw English translations below the items. Their turn came and Feliciano beamed at an expectant-looking Herakles.
“I want…ve, what would be good, Ludwig?”
A vein popped on Ludwig’s forehead. “Don’t tell me, the whole time you were standing here, you didn’t pick a drink?”
“But they all sound so yummy!”
“I’d recommend watermelon, sir,” Herakles suggested in English. “They’re in season and very refreshing.”
“Veee~!” Feliciano exclaimed and violently shook Ludwig’s arm. “He speaks English very well! We can ask them for directions!”
As much as Ludwig wanted to tell his boyfriend off for ignoring the cashier, he was immensely relieved. “We’ll…we’ll have two watermelon shakes, then,” he told Herakles.
“Of course, coming right up-“
“Could you tell us where Hotel VF is?” Feliciano interjected, eagerly slapping their printed map on the counter.
Herakles smiled. “Sure,” he said and retrieved a pen. Studying the drawing for a few moments, he encircled the couple’s destination and placed the tip of his pen on where they currently were.
“From here, you go straight, cross the main road and make a left turn after four small streets,” he said and traced their supposed route. “Did you get that?”
Feliciano’s face fell and Ludwig tried to smooth the crease between his eyebrows. Herakles looked at them curiously. “Is something wrong?”
“Ve…we have to go back from where we came!” Feliciano wailed once more.
Ludwig took the watermelon shakes handed to him by Hassan and gave one to the distressed Italian before paying the bill. “Thank you very much,” he told Herakles. “You’ve been a huge help.”
“No problem,” the cashier said cheerfully. “Have a nice day.”
Feliciano took a hearty sip of his shake in a sort of consolation for having to walk so far again. He took a colorful business card from one end of the counter. “Ve~ What is this street called? It’s full of restaurants.”
“Dotombori,” Herakles replied.
“Uwa, everyone has business cards here, Ludwig, see? We should come here again! Their shakes are really good.”
“Yes, yes,” Ludwig answered absently, gathered their things again and his boyfriend before heading back the way they came.
Herakles waved them a goodbye.
♠ the whole wide world
The clock read 6:20pm when Hotel VF receptionist, Ms. Kumiko, looked up from her work at the sound of luggage being rolled past the automatic doors. She called out a welcome.
Two disheveled tourists, clearly Caucasian, nodded in acknowledgement and returned their greeting with a ‘Good evening’ in English.
“We got lost!” Feliciano said conversationally, dropping his things on the carpet fronting the humble waiting area.
“We’re very sorry about that,” Ludwig added and took out their passports and hotel reservation so they could properly check in.
“It’s alright,” Ms. Kumiko smiled. “Welcome to Hotel VF. Breakfast is buffet and starts 7am tomorrow.” She read their names on their airline tickets and thought this must be the pair scheduled to arrive two hours earlier. She handed their documents back. “Your room is at the ninth floor. Left side.”
The couple bowed their thanks and stumbled into the elevator.
“Heeeh, they looked very handsome,” said Kenta, a busboy, joining Kumiko behind the reception desk after having finished his cigarette break.
“They are,” Kumiko said with a sigh. “Too bad they’re both hooked already.”
Kenta frowned. “Huh? How did you know they weren’t single? Did you see wedding rings?”
Ms. Kumiko didn’t reply until fifteen minutes later, when Feliciano and Ludwig emerged from the elevator, luggage-less and ready to sightsee. They practically ran out the tiny lobby hand in hand. Kenta stared.
“Need I explain it?” she asked the busboy with a smirk and he shook his head.
There were a lot of perks to this job, and the biggest was meeting all sorts of people from all over the world, or rather passively observing them up close. Kumiko didn’t discriminate and despite only seeing her clients, foreign and Japanese, leave and arrive, it gave her a strange comfort knowing the world didn’t seem as big and radically different as the TV made it out to be.
♠ it's just the way things are
Ludwig checked his cellphone to see if the cellular company successfully activated his roaming sim. The time on the screen flashed 6.42pm.
He and Feliciano had been walking aimlessly along Shinsaibashi-suji toward Dotombori (as the places they knew expanded) window-shopping until they got hungry.
“Really, Feliciano, have you gotten in touch with Antonio or your brother?” he asked, looking up from his phone.
“Ve~ I called their apartment in Kobe but no one was answering…”
“Have you tried Antonio’s school? Or Francis at least.”
Feliciano pulled out his own mobile. “I think the numbers Gilbert gave me are old.”
Ludwig browsed his address book and found the number of the Latin Dance School given by his brother. He pressed the call button and waited for someone to pick up on the other line. Feliciano watched him.
“Ludwig, what if Antonio’s secretary is Japanese?”
Someone had already answered before the German could even consider that possibility and utter ‘crap you’re right’.
“Irashaimasen, Carriedo School of Latin Dance.”
Well, that last bit was pronounced quite understandably. Ludwig ventured a hello. There was a pause.
“Good evening. Carriedo School of Latin Dance, how may we help you?”
He sighed in relief (for the umpteenth time that day). “Yes, good evening. Is Sir…Antonio Carriedo available to speak to?”
“I’m very sorry,” said the slightly accented lady voice from the other line. “But Carriedo-sensei is on an indefinite leave. Would you like to leave a message?”
Ludwig looked at Feliciano, who cocked his head to the side questioningly. An indefinite leave? Oh he knew this whole surprise visit thing was risky. “Um, no, but could you tell me where he is?”
“Carriedo-sensei has gone to Osaka, but that is all we may disclose,” answered the lady voice cooly.
“Right. Thank you very much,” and Ludwig hung up.
Feliciano clung to his arm, bouncing in his usual manner. “What did they say?”
“Antonio’s in Osaka.”
“…really? Ve~ it’s fate! What about brother?”
“I…I suppose they’re together,” Ludwig replied, unwilling to admit he had forgotten to inquire about him too.
“Silly Ludwig,” Feliciano sang, as if having read his thoughts. “You must be hungry. Come, let’s find something to eat.”
They walked a distance, quietly admiring the flashing lights and the people that passed them by-“Ve~ the beauty of the Japanese is something different!” “You’re right. Look, their businessmen have boyband hair.” “Ludwig! They’re the same age as us! …maybe, ve~”-letting the fact they were on vacation sink in like cool night air in the summer humidity. They came to a stop before a stretch of small restaurants and bars. Various hoards of people entered and left them, and in their wake, calls of thanks and grill smoke followed, then the doors would close again.
One such establishment looked particularly quaint. The door was glass paneled oak, making it hard to see the inside, but it had a ‘manly pub’ feel to the place. A group of buzzed salary men who had gone drinking after work exited it.
“I can’t stay for another round, Sadiq,” said a nasal, British voice that made Feliciano and Ludwig turn from their idle surveying. “The boys are waiting and I promised I’d have dinner with them and Francis.”
“You’re turning quite the family man there, Arty,” was the gruff reply.
Halfway out the door of the ornate bar stood two foreigners accompanied with two other Japanese. They were all in suits.
“Take care, Asa-san!” they said waved.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” the man named Arthur said and shook hands with an unseen personage inside. “Thanks for having me again, Lovino.”
“Don’t mention it. At least you’re sober today.”
Feliciano’s eyes widened as the figure of his brother, Lovino Vargas dressed in a smart barman’s attire, emerged to see Arthur off. It was so absurd yet real, as if the world had contracted once again. Ludwig almost dropped their camera.
“Fratello?”
Lovino turned, not used to hearing his native tongue spoken along Dotombori. He froze when he saw his brother and boyfriend silhouetted against the shop lights, waving frantically as if they had simply met on the way home back in Rome.
“…Feliciano?” he whispered in disbelief.
“Lovino!” his younger brother called and ran to hug him. Ludwig smiled warmly at the sight.
The older brother looked far from a definite reaction. He settled for laughing. “Even the potato bastard is here! What…what are you doing in Osaka?”
“We’re on vacation!” Feliciano declared. “A surprise visit for you~ Are you surprised?”
Lovino hugged his brother again, longer and tighter. “Am I ever…”
“Where’s Antonio?” Ludwig asked, peeking over the Italian’s shoulder to see if the Spaniard was in the bar with him, having that characteristic whimsical look on his face that made you imagine animated flowers dancing beside his head.
There was a pregnant silence amidst the hustle and bustle of the shopping street and a mysterious weight settled on their chests. Ludwig sensed something was wrong.
Lovino sighed and gripped Feliciano’s shoulder. “We…we broke up a year ago. I think.”
The statement took a while to sink in.
“…eh?”
to the Second Degree Part 2