Kiku doesn't like paper butterflies.
It isn't that they bring back bad memories-
"Germany, Germany, look! Look what Japan made for me!" Italy cried exuberantly, running across their training field towards the tall blond. Japan followed at a more sedate pace.
"That's nice, Italia," he sighed, marking the page in the book he was reading and putting it down. He turned to Japan. "I like the design, Nihon-it's very clean and precise, but it still holds that..." he trailed off, the small, pale blue piece of paper seeming very small and fragile in comparison to Germany's large, leather-gloved hand.
"The essence of the butterfly," Japan finished. Italy beamed and Germany's lips quirked into a small smile.
"Exactly," Germany said.
-because the memories paper butterflies bring are always good.
And it isn't that they are incredibly complicated to make-
"If you're making something, make me a boat, aru," China says, honey-brown eyes excited. "Like one of my junks, aru!"
Japan sighs. "But I don't know how to make a boat like your junks, ni-san," he replies.
China shakes his head, brushing it off. "Well, you didn't know how to make sampans last week either, but you're surrounded by them today, aru!" He gestures to the fleet of small canopied boats floating before them in the ornamental pond.
"I'll see what I can do," he concedes with the barest roll of his dark eyes.
Yao sits next to him for a while, coaching each fold until they finally give up on creating a design from memory and head to the harbor to get a better look at boat designs. Finally, after countless wads of rice paper have been thrown into the sea, Kiku comes up with a design that satisfies Yao. With great fanfare, Yao picks up the small craft and sets it on the surface of the water, leaning precariously off the dock to do so.
He and Kiku watch the maiden voyage of the overly complicated little boat with bated breath - and simultaneously groan when the little ship tips onto its side and sinks in seconds.
-for Kiku has made things far more complicated than paper butterflies.
And it isn't that butterflies have any sort of negative symbolism or connotation-
He's kneeling with his people, still being jarred by the aftershocks of the earthquake but still pawing through the rubble of Kobe with shaking hands, searching for survivors with the same desperateness of the people around him. There's a slight cry when the next piece of cement is moved, and two pairs of dark eyes meet. The pair Kiku looks at are staring out of a dirty and slightly bloodied face. The small girl he has uncovered smiles dazedly and Kiku yells to the others what he's found.
As he carries her to a stretcher, the girl offers him something. Clutched in his hands as an ambulance drives away is a bloody, dirty, and slightly crumpled butterfly made of notebook paper.
-because all origami Kiku has been given, he regards as gifts.
If it were just those reasons, Kiku supposes he'd love butterflies of the paper variety.
But in spite of all the good things attached to them, Kiku can't help but find them rather sad. They are colorful and delicate and loved by many, all qualities that their living counterparts have, but they lack arguably the most important: the ability to fly.
In that regard, they are but cheap imitations, and things like paper butterflies and mechanical nightingales and other similar things have earned Kiku's pity.
He shakes his head, dispelling his melancholy thoughts. He and Germany and Italy haven't had a free day together in what seems like ages, China's precious junks are a thing of the past, and Kobe has been rebuilt and is arguably better than ever. He shrugs, choosing to stare up at France's pride and joy, his précieux tour Eiffel, while waiting for the rest of the G8 to show up at the appointed meeting place (where Kiku currently was sitting) in Paris. Due to a few flight delays, the meeting was pushed back two hours, and Kiku hadn't checked his phone until it was too late.
So, Kiku decides to indulge in people-watching while he waits.
There's a group of tittering schoolgirls in blazers, laughing and daintily maneuvering around each other in their school-issued Mary-Janes. There's a woman in a long skirt trying desperately to calm her squalling child. There's a couple of Asian descent avidly taking pictures, and picking her way around all of them is a tired, ill-looking girl who looks strangely happy despite the deathly pallor of her face. This girl, Japan notes, carries a clear plastic bag filled with colorful, folded papers. Butterflies? No, it can't be...
Kiku shakes his head minutely, thinking that there's no possible way that European-looking girl had a bag of paper butterflies. In a minute, he's distracted by something else, and completely forgets about the odd girl and her papers.
Eventually, everyone arrives, with a few surprises. America and England arrive hand in hand, England muttering and blushing furiously but not removing his hand from America's. Lithuania tags along with Russia, carrying both Ivan's briefcase and his own and nearly sending America into a fit until the brunette explains (slightly dreamily) that he's getting paid to act as the other nation's secretary/aide.
Italy, unsurprisingly, gives him a hug and cheerily insults his uniform, wondering why "the Harajuku region hasn't even influenced your style a bit! Even a little color would be more fashionable, ve!" Germany simply sighs at the Italian's behavior and shakes his hand, like he usually does. As a strong breeze musses all of their hair and they set out for some cafe Francis has recommended when Lithuania calls out to him.
"Japan... Is this one of yours?" In the brunette's hand is a small paper butterfly. Kiku's dark eyes widen somewhat, recognizing the form, and before he can say no another breeze sweeps by all of the countries assembled.
Floating on it are dozens of paper butterflies.
Confused, Kiku reaches down and picks up a bright red one for himself, curiously examining it. When he looks back up, he can't restrain a small smile as he watches how everyone reacts to the small papers.
France is grinning as he hands a pink one to a blushing Canada (Kami, when did he get there?), America was attempting to affix a green one to England's hair (the Briton did not look pleased about this development), and Italy was offering a colorful handful to Germany. Russia was smiling brightly and affectionately down at Lithuania as the smaller nation pinned a sunflower-yellow one to his coat.
Tourists and Parisians alike are marveling over the small objects- the schoolgirls take turns adding them to their hair, the woman with the long skirt smiles at her calmed child, the Asian tourists are laughing together and the pale girl is nowhere in sight, but Kiku would bet anything that she was at the top of the tower, still smiling.
And suddenly, Kiku thinks he might like paper butterflies a little more than he used to.
EDIT: "Japan" changed to "Germany" at the end of the first flashback. My bad.
My first time writing Japan. I think I did well...
And if you can't tell, I'm just a liiiiiitle obsessed with origami. NBD. Oh, and paper junks do tip to one side. The sampans float, but the junks aren't really... seaworthy. Ehehehe... ^^;
Anyways, review, please? ^_^
