His laboured breath hitched as he fumbled with the lock, clicking the door shut and turning around to his room. Shaking fingers ran along the book spines on the shelf as he took that one off and inhaled its old, musty, smell. It had been too long.
Japan was trembling with excitement, holding his ancient comic in his hands, with a plate of snacks and a cup of tea on his desk. When was the last time he read this one? Perhaps during the more peaceful times of World War II? He had to calm down, there's no use in fidgeting. No one would come in.
A peek. Just a little peek at first, slowly, to savour this-he cracked the pages open slowly, bit by bit...
Ahhh...
This was the life...
BAM!
The door burst open, hinges coming off and the lock shattering into tiny pieces. Taiwan tore into the room, looking frazzled until she saw Japan sitting peacefully (although a bit shaken and strangely pale).
"Are you okay? I thought that Korea would be up to his usual antics-Oh! What's that?"
It was a nightmare for the poor guy, having the girl walk up to him curiously and staring at his book. He sat there, frozen, until Taiwan looked over his shoulders and saw the inside.
"Wasn't this the one the old man confiscated from you a few hundred years ago?"
"...No..."
"I see. I have some made at my house, too, even though they're not as hardcore as...tentacles..."
Now would be a good time to die, Japan thought.