This is my first Hetalia fanfic - although not my first attempt, I have a bunch of half written stories sitting around my desktop - and I wrote this while I was delirious and seriously lacking of sleep. I still am kind of woozy, so it's not exactly my best attempt. Can you believe how many changes I decided to make when I read this over?
Anyway, it's still Valentine's Day in Japan, so YES I MADE IT IN TIME. I've gotten so lazy lately that I have to schedule my stories in time with festivities, and I still missed Christmas and New Year's and my own birthday a week ago...and Valentine's Day seems perfect for a new story! Especially when I fell in love with Hetalia so hard sometime around the end of last year. Oh, but Spamano is my OTP - although they won't be making an appearance in this one.
The title comes from a cheesy quote by Rosemonde Gerard (nice name) I found on the internet a few seconds ago-
For you see, each day I love you more,
Today more than yesterday and less than tomorrow.
Disclaimer: Well. You know. Legalities' sake. I think I'll go check Himaruya-sensei's website now...see if he'd decided to update that Valentine's manga with Germany and Italy yet...
Japan looked over towards a corner of the grassy courtyard, which was coincidentally the only part of their area of the grounds in the shade of an evergreen tree, and also currently occupied by two blondes, both distinctive enough even from a distance. They had been standing there for a while; the one with the prominent eyebrows (it was still hard to pick out because of the distance, but Japan was secretly quite proud of his eyesight – I'm sorry, but I must insist, the rabbit is pounding sticky rice and anyone who should suggest otherwise is, I must conclude, sadly impaired in the brain) had spent most of that time pressing his back against the wall of the school building as hard as he could, as though he wished to be moulded into it; the taller, bespectacled one shifted from one foot to another, clasping something in his trouser pockets and apparently was stammering out words, causing his companion to look the more disbelieving as each second ticked by.
Japan watched, as the taller one made a sudden move forwards, stepping into the other's comfort zone and grasping his hand. Ignoring the flinch and the high-pitched yell (it was a yell, a manly yell, his voice had just kind of flipped over and he did NOT just shriek, dammit) of surprise that rebounded off and around the school's high walls, he took the thing he was clinging onto for so long out of his pocket – a box, Japan confirmed, rather than realized, tied with a lacy ribbon and shaped peculiarly – and more or less shoved it into the captured hand. He then bounded back to his original spot on the well-worn lawn like a frightened deer, looking everywhere but at the boy with the bushy eyebrows, as he stared at the item placed in his palm like as though it might explode. His mouth opened and closed like that of a dying goldfish. This continued for a few seconds, as the gaping boy tried again and again to speak (but, as far as Japan could hear, no words seemed to be escaping the rigid lock that had set around the boy's throat now) until the taller one seemed to come to a conclusion himself.
The bespectacled student was taking a body stance that was ready to run at any moment, Japan could see, with jittering fingers and widely planted feet. He, unlike the other, was shooting something rapidly from flapping lips and a desperate look in his innocent eyes. He didn't quite look like he believed in half the things he was saying, but it also seemed like he couldn't quite stop himself. In contrast, the other boy, green eyes growing steadily wider and cheeks coloring as he listened, before something in his companion's words made his eyes flash and his hands grip the box he was given hard and finally his voice rang out, crystal clear, although the words did not reach where Japan sat. But when Japan had thought he had finally interrupted the taller boy's rambling, he lapsed again into the uneasy silence as he tried to force his uncooperative mouth to form the right words. The taller waited, almost eagerly, almost daring himself to hope for an affirmative answer – Japan did not know for certain of what to, but he had a good idea – but even the expectation seemed to dwindle as the bushy eye-browed student started to look more and more lost and confused of why he was unable to say anything. Finally, the taller student bowed his head in a form of dejection, a rueful smile playing on his lips, and looked into the other's eyes with an apologetic look. An unsettling calmness came over to the previously nervous, fidgeting limbs and muscles, and after saying a few things with an air of embarrassment and disappointment, he turned to take his leave. There was no missing the hurt hidden behind the carefree grin as he gave a dismissive wave, and Japan sighed.
But in that split second the slighter, previously motionless boy had moved, and had Japan blinked he was sure he would have missed it, because it happened so fast even the two students looked surprised. A free hand fisting into the other's jacket, the boy with the bushy eyebrows pulled the bulkier, definitely heavier looking one around with a strength his lithe figure did not look to possess, and not caring that the heart-shaped – because it was a heart, of a modest size, dark red in color with a tiny card stuck in its ribbon, because it was Valentine's Day – box was being crushed between their chests as he surged forward. Rising just slightly on his tiptoes, the student pushed their lips together, eyes screwed shut and he clutched at the taller blonde's school jacket so firmly it was sure to be creasing. His partner was understandably taken aback, but only for the first few moments; he quickly started to return the kiss, taking it deeper, getting a gentle hold of the initiator's chin and tilting their heads to be allowed easier access to his mouth and teeth and tongue.
Japan had looked away by the time they had gotten their fingers tangled in each other's hair, sipping at the tea he poured himself from thermos sitting on the bench beside him and quenching down the irresistible feeling of conflict that always arose when aspects of Western affection made themselves too public for his taste. But today is a special day, he reprimanded himself, a special day indeed even for those back home (the young will get their fun, while for the sweet shops it would be like Christmas come early) so it was only by reading the atmosphere (which, if he had to give it a color, he was sure was a rosy, bubbly pink) and decided he should overlook such scenes of indecency. Just for today. Not that he pretended not to see Italy kissing Germany in greeting sometimes, or vice-versa, even on normal days. Besides, it was well over half a year since that messy birthday-break-up on July 4th that the infamous couple finally touched each other, so extra leniency should be allowed. He was just a normal bystander – not interested in voyeurism at all, in any circumstances – who had come out because it was such a lovely day and it was a waste to spend it indoors.
"Ah, young love," he commented, more to himself than to Italy, rolling in the sweet spring grass near his feet for no apparent reason apart from what his heart willed him to do. "It amazes me how sometimes it seems so passionate and sturdy that no matter how weathered it may become, it will always come out stronger. And yet, how sometimes the very same relationship becomes brittle and breaks over something so very trivial."
Italy looked over at America and England kissing, and his lazy smile brightened up at the sight. "Ve, that looks fun," he said. America was bending England over almost double as England's arms scrabbled to loop themselves around his neck, both already looking rumpled and the present box nowhere in sight. "It's good that they made up, though, right? Ne~ Japan?"
"Yes. Yes, it is. Now if they could hurry and finish up over there before," Japan winced, as England got his footing and shoved America up the wall, before following suit and continuing their long due make-out with renewed vigor, "…Before Germany-san comes, because I doubt he would be less tolerant than myself when it comes to school policies."
"Ve? But Germany and I kiss all the time! Ohhhh, I get it, you want to join in too right, Japan?" Italy sat up on his knees, grass sticking to his vest and uniform as he beamed up. "We're sorry we leave you alone all the time, Japan~! Please forgive us!"
"…No, that's quite alright. The energy young people possess astounds me constantly, but I don't envy it. At all."
(He missed Greece, who had graduated a year ago with a soft look in his eyes and lips pressed to his temple, but it was his nature to pacify and remind himself that there were other occasions to see him again. As America wound an arm around his boyfriend and reversed their positions against the wall, only very briefly coming up for air to mutter something indiscreet next to a very flushed ear, Japan decided to register Greece a cell phone on the very next occasion.)
Nevertheless, he kept a look out from the corner of his eye until England had safely retrieved his box, and was pulled towards the direction of the school gates by a cheerfully laughing America. And perhaps the happiness radiating from the lads was just that little bit infectious. He felt the corner of his lips tugging into a small, slightly relieved smile as Italy went back to rolling in the grass, and savored the warmth of his tea in the crispy, fresh air.
So? Was it sweet? Was it confusing? Did the silent movie-isque interaction make you want to tear your hair out and strangle me with it? Because obviously the two were exchanging stolen glances and wishing they had the courage to make up soon after their little squabble (which just turned out longer than they expected, England because he's a tsundere and America because, well, it was his friggin BIRTHDAY) but the opportunity just didn't seem to raise it's head until the day of the lovers. Besides, awkward tensions lead to great making up. Hur hur.
Japanese students (especially the female ones...) have this really weird perception of Valentine's Day. Of course it's a day for those in a relationship or those aspiring to be in one to give presents and do stuff together (or try), but the tradition of making sweets and (re-melted, re-shaped) chocolate and handing them out to friends is so famous there are separate names given to the different "types" of chocolate. "本命 チョコ" (HonMei Choco) means chocolate given to a lover and/or someone you like, "義理 チョコ" (GiRi Choco) is given to boys by girls, but only as friends or even simply because it feels like they have to, "友 チョコ" (Tomo Choco) is given to friends, and "逆 チョコ" (Gyaku Choco) is chocolate given to girls by boys. And you might have noticed only girls give chocolate on Valentine's Day, so Japan exclusively has a White Day (March 14th) when the boys can give chocolate back to the girls, and so on. Not that ever happened anywhere around me, as far as I know. Obviously candy stores have a field day - actually, around a month of field days, because they stock up chocolate that aren't decorated or anything (some of them are even chocolate that couldn't be sold because they had broken during the manufacturing process) so that kids could buy them, melt them in a pot, and use them for whatever sweet gift they're going to pass out to their friends during break time...some for the pure pleasure of handling kitchen items and call it "cooking", some (like me) just so that they are assured to have goodies traded when they approach someone who baked a whole CAKE, and such.
You know, it being Valentine's Day and all...I really wouldn't mind some reviews, because they're the sweetest gift of all for me! *gives a Francis leer - I mean, winning smile*