Disclaimer: Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.
It was the wicked yowling and spitting of what was unmistakably two cats fighting right outside of Kiku Honda's apartment door that woke him in the early hours of the morning. Alarmed, he got out of bed, wrapped a kimono around himself — after all, he did not have time to change, and he was not going to risk being seen outside in his nightclothes at five o'clock in the morning — and stumbled his way to the front door in the dark.
Kiku had taken up residence in a ground-level room at an apartment complex in a small, quiet town. He could honestly say that he did not miss living with his brother for a number of reasons — Yao's hulking, terrifying Russian boyfriend being one of them. The quiet Japanese man found much more comfort in living alone, despite the fact that he could not escape being distracted from his studies even here; a free-spirited, bouncy Italian that lived a floor above him made sure of that. Feliciano Vargas had practically attacked him with multiple dishes of food the day he had moved in, claiming that he had been recently been taken by the uniqueness of Japanese versions of his favorite food — pasta — and wanted to try executing the dishes himself. He had also made it clear that there was no doubt that he would love all it, especially since the boy was enrolled in a culinary school not far off from the college Kiku was attending.
He would admit, Feliciano was an excellent cook, and would perhaps make it big once he got away from this small town... and grew up a little bit. The German next door seemed to be onto that case already, thankfully. But Kiku also had trouble putting it into Feliciano's head that he also had college work to attend to, and did not often have time to play the role of his own personal food critic. He was very intent on upholding his dream of becoming a veterinarian, and if he did not meet the expectations of the school for veterinary medicine in which he attended, his dream would remain simply that.
There was a cat that had been hanging around the complex that Kiku had once caught snooping around his doorstep when returning from school. He was a friendly enough creature, and Kiku had a soft spot for cats. Once he had sneaked the cat some tuna without being caught by the landlord — who made it clear that no pets were allowed — the cat had kept coming back.
Word must have gotten around in the stray cat community, because one afternoon, around the cat's usual feeding time when Kiku knew the landlord was out, another cat had accompanied his semi-adopted one. The newcomer was larger, and by the looks of it, older. Deciding that the two held some sort of relation, perhaps as brothers, Kiku had finally named the younger cat 'Nekojiro.' He derived the name from the Japanese word meaning 'cat' — 'neko' — and the Japanese word meaning 'second son' — 'jiro.'
It was soon apparent that Nekojiro and his so far nameless brother did not share a very strong bond. The elder cat could be aggressive, both toward Nekojiro and Kiku. There was no doubt in Kiku's mind, as he blindly found the doorknob and twisted it, that it was the two of them fighting outside the door.
"Please stop it, both of you, before you wake the landlord!" Kiku pleaded in a strained whisper, trying to make the cats hear him but at the same time keep quiet. The landlord lived on the ground-level floor as well, two doors down from Kiku. He could only hope that the man was a heavy sleeper.
Nekojiro and his brother had limbs entangled as they clashed. Their fur stood on edge and one of them — most likely Nekojiro — had been slashed by claws or torn at with teeth, as dark drops of blood were detectable on the concrete in the soft light provided by the moon. With no idea what the two were fighting about, Kiku got himself into the fight to end it. Bending down, he favored Nekojiro and tore him away from his hissing, angry brother, receiving battle wounds of his own as claws tore at the pale flesh of his hands and wrists.
Nekojiro seemed thankful for his savior and curled against Kiku's chest as the man cradled him. Kiku did not have the ability to heartlessly send the instigator of the fight away, but, thankfully, Nekojiro's brother did not want to stick along anyway, and fled into the darkness seconds later.
"Let's get you checked out, Nekojiro," Kiku suggested in a gentle murmur, smoothing down the cat's ruffled, erect fur as he brought into the safety that was his apartment.
After getting some lights turned on and inspecting Nekojiro thoroughly, it was quickly decided that the sustained wounds needed to be cleaned, rid of germs that could potentially cause infections, and bandaged — though one looked like it might need some stitching along the way. Unfortunately, Kiku did not personally own any of the equipment needed to perform any procedure on an animal.
The professors at school discouraged bringing in any animals from home — alive, wounded, or otherwise — leaving Kiku to get him to a veterinary clinic as soon as possible. The most he could do for Nekojiro before heading to his car was press gauze to the bleeding wounds and simply hope that the cat did not dismiss the favor and rip the gauze right off.
Surprisingly enough, the one, rather spacious clinic in town was not far off from Kiku's school, and therefore not far off from his apartment, either. Properly obeying speed limits, street signs, and red lights while throwing anxious looks at Nekojiro in the passenger's seat all the way got Kiku to the nearly deserted parking lot in fifteen minutes exactly. Nearly deserted. Thankfully, the clinic was considerate of those rare cases that happen in the late hours of the night and early hours of the morning.
Kiku gathered Nekojiro in his arms, rewarding him for good behavior with a scratch under his chin, and headed toward the welcoming glass doors of the clinic.
The waiting room was brilliantly lit, and that light poured outside when Kiku opened the door. It was comfortably warm inside, almost instantly eliminating the chill the early morning air had spread over him in the short walk from his car to the entrance. A few too many posters were tacked on a corkboard hanging on the wall to his right. Blue plastic chairs were lined up against two of the walls, and all along one wall hung realistic pictures of dogs with their breed names tacked on. Directly ahead of him was a wooden counter that doubled as a receptionist's desk. A man sat behind it with his head down on the counter. Kiku shifted uncomfortably, wondering if he was seriously going to have to wake the man up — who was obviously on the job and should not had been asleep in the first place — to get Nekojiro some medical attention.
Saving them both the embarrassment, though, the brunette head raised as the door closed behind Kiku and sent a cold gust of wind through the room. Blearily blinking his very green eyes, he finally took notice of Kiku. Almost instantly, his lips pulled into a smile, and Kiku found himself blushing without knowing why.
"You much have an emergency on your hands," the receptionist guessed, leaving Kiku to frown curiously.
"No, not exactly..." He paused to look down at Nekojiro, who did not look to be in any seriously critical condition or emergency situation, as the other man had put it. "Why do you—" But then Kiku realized what he meant.
He had not changed out of his nightwear and throw-over kimono before coming.
Kiku knew why his face had darkened now, and he stammered as he tried to explain, "I apologize, I was not thinking. Nekojiro and his brother got into a fight in front of my door, and I would have treated him myself if I had had the proper equipment..." The receptionist's smile had remained unwavering, and Kiku decided to simply leave it at that in order to save himself from further embarrassment.
Kindly, the receptionist motioned for him to bring the cat in his arms to him. "Nekojiro... you said?"
Complying with his wishes, Kiku closed most of the distance between them and set Nekojiro atop the desktop, a safe distance from wayward papers. "Yes. He has a couple of bite marks here, a rather deep gash here — I think it might need stitches..." After peeling off the gauze and indicating where the worst of the wounds were, Kiku lifted his head a bit to look at the receptionist, who was no longer sitting.
He was much taller than Kiku had anticipated; his collarbone was at Kiku's eye level. Idly, he noticed a name tag pinned onto the collar of his white lab coat. Heracles Karpusi. Reading it made Kiku's heart do a little leap. Heracles' surname was undeniably Greek, and if Kiku had a soft spot for cats, he had a positive weakness for Greek culture. Lifting his head further to meet the eyes of the Grecian, — the eyes that he had admired the color of from across the room — Kiku found Heracles looking back into his eyes, still smiling.
"I'm sorry, is there a veterinarian on duty at this hour? I have a few suggestions, and I would like to run them by whoever will be tending to him." And I am afraid that if I keep letting you stare like this, I will start to stare back.
"I am a veterinarian technician... and the only one here on duty. I can take a look at Nekojiro. If you would not mind, take him into an examination room and I will lock up." Heracles finally broke eye contact, much to Kiku's relief... and disappointment. He felt like he could move about freely now without being watched like an amused cat's prey, but he also already longed to see the exotic green of the Grecian's eyes again.
Without waiting for an answer, Heracles ducked to retrieve a ring of keys, all attached to what looked like a collar for a cat or small dog. Before slipping between the space between the wall and the desk, he pointed Kiku in the right direction. "That way," he offered, gesturing to a door to Kiku's left, but as Kiku picked up Nekojiro and headed toward the door, Heracles quickly made a move to beat him to it and hold it open.
"Ah... thank you," Kiku said, shyly ducking his head and slipping past Heracles, into the back room. From there, the lab-like room branched off into many others. At the opposite end of the room, there was a wide doorway marked off as the kennel, and Kiku made a point to stay as far away from it as possible. The last thing he wanted to do was set off a bunch of barking dogs when Heracles was the only one on duty.
Kiku chose the closest room to him, the first door on the right. It was a cozy little examination room. Against the wall, built into it, was a counter for the animals with a built-in sink. Above it hung a paper-towel dispenser. Behind it was a desk with a new-looking, sleek computer monitor and a rolling chair sitting in front of it. Above the computer were two cabinets with a wooden finish. Kiku found that he quite liked the small, cozy examination room and thought that one day he might like to work here. Even Nekojiro seemed rather at ease as he sat him down atop the counter.
When Heracles finally joined him in the room, carrying with him the collar ring of keys, he washed his hands and quickly got to work. Watching his long, tanned fingers skillfully brush aside fur that was in his way of examining the fighting injuries, Kiku felt a slight twinge of guilt for having thought Heracles was only a receptionist, and was about to apologize for his rudeness when Heracles' soft voice interrupted him, stopping him from doing so.
"You said you had suggestions? And that you would have taken care of him yourself if you had had the proper equipment?" the Grecian asked.
Kiku nodded, keeping his eyes trained on Nekojiro, lest he get caught up in those eyes again.
"Are you a veterinarian?" Heracles continued honest curiosity in his voice.
"One in training, yes. I'm attending college here—"
Heracles seemed to understand immediately, as he nodded in Kiku's peripheral vision. "We have a lot come in from the school asking to watch surgeries. Professors even like to bring students by sometimes."
Kiku was immediately immersed in the thought. If he was ever brought to watch a surgery, would Heracles be the vet tech working alongside the veterinarian? And if he was... would Kiku even be able to focus on the learning part of the experience...?
The buzzing of something started Kiku out of his thoughts just in time for him to consider just how ridiculous he was being. I've only just met him... Of course he is attractive, but what am I thinking?
"What, ah... What do you do here as a veterinarian technician, Heracles?" Kiku asked politely, just loud enough to be heard over the shaver that Heracles was using to remove patches of Nekojiro's fur, desperate for some escape from his thoughts. His eyes flickered up from the cat to the Grecian's handsome, tanned face. His lips were quirked in a sort of amused way and Kiku could not help but look at him questionably.
Some way or another, Heracles had seen the look he was being given by the Japanese man and explained: "Name tags are convenient, aren't they? However, you know my name, but I do not know yours."
"Honda Kiku," he answered quickly in the Japanese way. "Kiku. Ah... It is a pleasure to meet you."
"The feeling is mutual... Kiku." Heracles clicked the shaver off, leaving Nekojiro with unattractive patches of missing fur and exposing wounds caused by teeth and claws. "To answer your question, this is mostly what I do... tend to the cats that are brought in. I love cats. They are my favorite animal, and my boss allows me to work solely with them." Heracles smiled fondly at Nekojiro, and in that moment it was beyond clear to Kiku how much the man truly cared for cats — just in the way he smiled.
Their time together passed by quickly as the sun steadily rose into the sky, declaring morning. Heracles had spent far more time than necessary tending to Nekojiro, but Kiku found that he didn't really mind. He also found that he rather liked Heracles, liked the laid back way he had of doing things (though Kiku himself could never do as such)... Kiku just liked him.
The Grecian had been more than happy to listen to Kiku's suggestions, take them into consideration, and just barely modify them before performing them on the cat. Nekojiro seemed to have warmed up to Heracles just as much as Kiku had by the time they were all done. After all, he had been nothing but kind and gentle and soothing. In fact, Nekojiro had lapsed into purring half-way through having healing salve applied to the worst of the bite wounds.
Heracles had kindly inquired about Kiku's studies; he had asked him how far along he was into the courses, how many more years he had left before becoming a veterinarian, and whether or not he planned to continue residing where he currently did after he graduated. A time or two, Kiku could have sworn the man had hinted that he could put in a good word to his boss for him in the event that he decided this was the office he wanted to be hired into. Again Kiku wondered if he would be able to focus very well with Heracles around.
Kiku asked about Heracles' origins, adding with mild embarrassment that he had always been fond of Greek culture. After hearing that, Heracles had been happy to tell of his previous home in beautiful Athens — a city of which he had not been entirely fond for. Naturally, he appreciated the city for its historic value, but it had been too heavily populated, too big, too loud, and too fast for Heracles' liking. He found the quiet comfort of a slow-moving small town much more serene.
When other veterinarians and technicians began showing up and filling the other offices, at the same time emitting cheerful barks from the kennel, Kiku finally thought to search the room for the time. He had hoped to leave before anyone else showed up for work, considering he was still dressed in his nightclothes... but he hadn't expected that two hours would fly by so fast.
"Ah, I need to get back home to prepare for class," he said, panic hovering on the edge of his tone. Just how much time was he going to have to get ready once back at his apartment? He was not going to be late... He had never been late for anything in his life.
"I need to see you again."
Kiku blinked and nearly fell off of the stool he had been sitting on. "E-excuse me?" A flush of color was rising to his cheeks and he could not help but be caught in Heracles' sea foam green gaze.
Heracles simply blinked — slowly, and in a seemingly sleepy fashion. "To pick up Nekojiro. I wanted to keep him here for a while, since you said he isn't technically your cat. I don't want him getting into another fight."
"Yes, of course," Kiku responded quickly. What in the world had he been thinking Heracles had otherwise meant...? "I can come by after class. And by then I will be dressed properly, I assure you..." he mumbled in embarrassment as he smoothed down the front of his nightclothes then tucked his kimono more tightly around him before retying the sash. He paused before raising his eyes back to Heracles, whose smiling tanned face made Kiku's heart do a little leap. "Until then... Thank you for taking care of Nekojiro." Folding his hands in front of him, Kiku bowed quickly, but dipped low enough to show his gratitude.
"Thank you for bringing him in," he heard Heracles say.
When Kiku straightened up, it became evident how anxious he was to hurry home. Heracles assured him that he could worry about the bill later, then said his goodbye and suggested Kiku hurry and not be late to his class. Despite being pressed for time, though, Kiku paused by the door to give his mind one final chance to commit Heracles' handsome, sleepy, smiling face to memory.
Then he was out the door.
A/N: Hello, all! I have been dying to get a Giripan story published after finding that there is a severe lack of love for these two. I struggled to come up with a suitable plot for them, and am stumbling my way over actually writing for these two characters for the first time, but I'm excited anyway — and loving what I'm doing already! c: I'd love to have some feedback on how I'm doing so far, so reviews will make me happy and motivate me to write chapters faster. ;D