Enlightening, you say?

Written for the Giripan (Greece-Japan) community's summer fic-a-thon. Prompt: Behind that mask.

After years of picking up the language from Japan himself ("N-No, Greece-san. It's 'neko' for cats. Not 'cat-o'..."), Greece considered his grasp of Japanese passable, if not vaguely fluent. However, sitting here in a seat very obviously fitted for a man of a lesser stature, he couldn't help feel that nothing at all had been learned in the time that went by, resulting in the slightest of frowns (in concentration? Of displeasure?) on his face.

Fidgeting in a manner he hoped would be discreet enough to go unnoticed by his boss, Greece strained to hear the individual phrases in the drawn out speech of the chorus.

Maintaining international relations were one of the duties of a Nation, one of the only duties entrusted to the Nations, which were actually taken seriously by their respective governments. Diplomatic visits, treaty signings, they would all be present, even if their identities weren't made known to everyone else present.

Which would be how Greece found himself situated in a traditional theater, watching Japan himself perform in the elaborate affair which was known to be noh theater. Japan, if Greece had recalled correctly, was the shite of the play: the main actor. The Greek man couldn't help but be absolutely overwhelmed by the performance. Sure, his own country had its own stake the theatrical arts (Greek theater was famous for being one of the first styles of theater, although Greece himself did not actually partake in their performances), but this was a drastically different experience for them man.

To him, everything was exotically different. The masks, the music which blended smoothly with the chorus, the simple backdrop of a single pine tree on the polished wood, the seemingly intimate feel of the whole performance.

However, as the performance went on (and Greece's mind drifted, being unable to understand the play- No matter, he was content to simply watch the contrastingly fluid and sharp movements, and Japan would explain the actual context of it all at a later time) Greece came to think of his people's own form of theater, juxtaposing it with Japan's. This lead him to a rather surprising conclusion.

Perhaps they weren't so different at all.

Although on the surface, the two forms were somewhat jarringly different, they both bore remarkable resemblance to each other. Even though Greek theatre was traditionally performed in the vast hills of his own land, and theater forms like Noh were showcased in the comparatively small indoors, even though his own form of the art involved chorus members of up to fifty, while Noh had less than ten... They both involved the elaborate use of masks, a chorus, and performers who simply stitched it all up seamlessly.

It was almost enough to make him laugh right there, right then. (Which he didn't, of course, due to the obvious inappropriateness)

Not that the analysis of their two theater forms was humourous in any way, but the implied meaning of it was indeed, quite an interesting surprise to Greece.

Because regardless of their outward differences, perhaps Heracles Karpusi and Honda Kiku weren't all that different either.

Even though one was European, and the other was Asian (and with all the traits and culture which came with the ethnicities), one was alright with public displays of affection, the other would blush furiously at the very thought, they were similar in the small ways which mattered, Greece contemplated, his eyes still trained on Japan's long, flowing robes, but the chorus' voices now barely discernible over the thoughts in his head.

It was enough to put the slightest of all smiles on his face for the rest of the play (Which, admittedly, he didn't pay his fullest attention to, having given up on the verbal component of it).

We're alike where it counts.

--

"If I may ask, Greece-san," Japan asked, after the customary (and now familiar, to Greece) bowing and polite conversation, "How was the play?"

Greece thought for a moment, running the question over his head, and all the possible ways to answer. He looked at Japan's flushed face, probably flushed from the heat behind the mask he had donned for the play. Red, and noticing the other nation's stare, it became quite obvious that the shorter man was getting quite uncomfortable.

Heracles couldn't have found a better look for him.

He bent over, and gave the shorter man a chaste kiss on the cheek, much to the recipient's absolute shock and embarrassment ("G-G-GREECE-SAN! Please have some r-restraint in public!" he would cry, later).

"It was enlightening."

–

A/N:
- As this piece was based on my (probably slipshod) research on Noh and Greek theater, I'm sorry if there are any inaccuracies regarding them.
- Noh theatre is a form of traditional Japanese theatre which involves the use of masks, a chorus who 'chant' the play. The actors do not actually speak during the performance. More about Noh theatre can be found
- The shite is indeed, the main actor in a Noh play, and he's likely to be the only one wearing a mask during the performance.
- Greek theatre naturally, originates from Ancient Greece. Its performed in a large, open-aired performance space, and also involves masks, and a chorus. However, Greek theatre was mainly performed as part of religious festivals in honor of the god Dionysus, and unless later revived, were performed only once.
- The "cat-o" thing was just a play on how most people (who do not have knowledge of Japanese) like to think that words in the language are simply the English forms with an 'o', or something to that effect, at the end.

- Any comments, criticism or corrections on this will all be greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading! (Gah, this is my first Hetalia fic, I'm so nervous...)