A Series of Strange Family Events
Chapter 2: Rain
Pairing: Giripan
Two green eyes with the lightest tint of brown on the edges gazed out through a window at the downpour outside. A crowd of droplets had condensed onto the cool pane, dripping lazily down the glass in miniscule streams about the width of an ant. The drops blurred the scenery beyond it, although the rain itself had reduced the yard to a shattered gray muddle of lines and shapes. She blinked slowly, transfixed, the sudden absence of the cat on her lap negligible.
Tokoma had always venerated the beauty of nature in all forms, but merely taking in the sight from inside seemed boring and brought back fragments of hardships she had endure. Her mind pictured a gaunt face glaring out at the somber world surrounding its prison, eyes wanting to be part of that lively place once again.
Tokoma dispersed these thoughts. She would never be that pale ghost-anything but that wistful girl with dulled eyes and stone-cold cheeks. She came to her feet and walked down the hallway, the scuffing of her boots the only sound present.
She crossed the living room, her eyes flicking a glance at her πατέρας and otokooya sitting at the kotatsu, their conversation paused as she strolled through. She felt their curious eyes on her back, but didn't acknowledge their stares as she exited the house and slipped onto the veranda.
In moments her boots stood alone, white socks shoved into their toes. Tokoma herself sat cross-legged on the wooden porch, feeling strands of stray raven hair sway in time with the moist breeze. Tiny mists of water floated in towards the house, but not enough to even dampen the girl who sat there. Tokoma's eyes soaked in the rain as a fond memory flooded back to her.
*~*~*
A downpour had adulterated the brief dry spell Japan had been experiencing over the last week, quenching the plants' thirst for rain. In the back of the house, Tokoma, a 6-year-old at the time, twirled in the yard, her face upturned to the clouds masking the sky .Her arms were spread out as if she wished to embrace the entire gray ceiling and a blissful smile of equal broadness shone on her countenance. The little girl donned one of Greece's many white T-shirts, with the edges extending to her knees in a sort of dress and the sleeves ending at her elbows. Japan, in a navy-blue yukata, and Greece, the normal T-shirt-khaki-pants-jacket getup, were seated on the veranda, the only audience to their daughter's ballet in the rain.
She leaped and spun, the ground squishing under her bare feet, until she stopped, giving a dramatic pose as a sign of the conclusion of her performance. The adults under the awning clapped enthusiastically for Tokoma and she bowed.
"Arigato! Σας ευχαριστούμε!" she chirped her thank-yous as imaginary red roses settled at her feet. When her eyes returned forward, she remembered how her dance had lacked an essential element- a dance partner. For the time being, her imagination created hands in hers and another person moving in time to her dance beat. "It wasn't enough," she thought. A real person with warming hands and moving feet would be worth all the while. She stood, smirking at her audience, already choosing two such partners.
"Now, for my next show, I will need two volunteers to assist me," Her eyes pretended to search through a mob of people for the right couple. Greece and Japan's cheerful smile drew into thin lines of disapproval. The sound of participating in Tokoma's little activity didn't appear promising, especially since the adults wished to remain relatively dry.
"Tokoma, I don't think we-"Japan began to state his reasons as to why Greece and him could not be volunteers. Tokoma, however, wasn't in the mood for excuses. Before either male had enough time stop the girl in her plans, two thin hands took two to her hands and dragged the victims into the wake of the rain.
Greece pat his hair nervously as the drops showered on him, as if his curly locks would poof up without warning and Japan tried to slink away to the safety of the veranda, but Tokoma managed to keep her parents from escaping her sight.
As soon as she secured the pair's position outside, she grabbed Greece's hands and led him in a dance, whirling and spinning around with him. She did a funky sort of jig, solely coming from improvisation while she sung a Greek song her πατέρας had taught her.
Greece soon enthusiastically twirled alongside Tokoma, letting her lead him in the steps. He mimicked her as she leaped and danced. Tokoma giggled, ventured over to Japan (whom had been observing this event, mildly amused) and yanked him over, soundlessly adjured Japan to join in.
The family crafted a circle out of their arms and revolved around its center, changing direction every so often. Tokoma skipped along, her knees brought up high, almost level with her chest. Greece imitated Tokoma's gleeful skip and even Japan had a tiny spring to his step.
Thirty minutes passed before hands were dropped and the circle ceased its evolution. Tokoma laughed merrily, clapping excitedly. "Again! Again!" she squealed, jumping up and down.
Japan approached the child and scrutinized her disheveled appearance. Her thick bangs messily stuck to her wet forehead, her long black hair slick with rainwater. Greece's T-shirt adhered to her form like her bangs did, a shoulder peeking out of the neck hole. "You're a mess," he remarked, covering the revealed shoulder and brushing her dripping bangs out from her eyes.
"OTOKOOYA!" she whined, annoyed. "I'm fine. You're as messy as I am!"
Japan gazed down at himself, noticing, for the first time, how soaked his yukata was and the muddied hem near his ankles. He had to hand it to Tokoma for being observant.
A tap on Japan's shoulder brought his attention from his appearance. He turned to face Greece, looking at him with a questioning gaze. "Yes, Hera-kun?" he asked.
The Greek's eyes shone as he spoke; "Excuse me, miss? Would you care to join me in a dance?" he bowed gallantly, extending his hand forward for Japan to take.
Japan glanced at the hand reluctantly. The proposition didn't sound that promising…..
Tokoma's eyes shone a million times brighter at Greece's proposal. "Dansu! Dansu! Dansu!" she chanted, her fist bobbing up and down. "C'mon, otokooya! It'll be fun!" she encouraged.
Japan drew in a breath and slipped his hand into Greece's. Immediately, the smaller nation was drawn close, a stronger, yet gentle hand at his waist. Japan placed his arm around the back of Greece's neck as their fingers interlocked. Greece led Japan into a slow waltz, the latter mirroring Greece without flaw.
Tokoma, feeling the need to add musical accompaniment to their dance, sung "Country Where the Sun Rises, Zipangu". Although the lyrics were not the least bit romantic, it was the slowest song Tokoma could recite without flaw. Her voice floated in the thinning rain, the melody crystal clear; it was obvious Tokoma had inherited Japan's talent for singing.
"Nagai rekishi no naka ni wa
hiki komotte ita toki mo aru
Minasan yori wa
unto jiisan touyou ni ukabu watashi "
The words slid gracefully off Tokoma's tongue, every note in tune. At "watashi", Greece removed his arm from Japan and spun him with the other; the edges of Japan's yukata billowing ever so slightly, before Greece brought him close once again.
The sun peeked through the shield of gray, chasing away some of the clouds to allow a bit of blue to bleed through. The afternoon light shone down on the three people as they finished the dance. Tokoma let the final note tremble in her throat before fading into the stillness of the evening air.
Japan and Greece separated, ceasing their swaying when the music stopped. Greece bowed once again, a soft smile worn on his face. Japan, in an effort to act Western-like, gathered the cloth of his yukata, lifted the hem so that his ankles showed and attempt a curtsy to his partner.
Tokoma was in hysterics. Tears poured from her eyes as her knees sunk into the water-soaked earth and a fist pounded the grass. The other hand clutched her stomach, her breath evading her lungs for periods of time. "Oh my…." She gasped between fits of laughter. "He just….just..." her words were overlapped by her howling laughter. "I can't believe you actually curtsied, otokooya. Imagine that! We should've caught that on camera!"
A light blush expanded over Japan's cheeks at her daughter. "Was...was it that awkward?"
Greece shrugged his jacket-covered shoulders "I think she just finds it so unusual. That and you didn't do it right…."
Tokoma got back to her muddy soles, brushing the tears from her eyes. Her jubilant cries of amusement were abruptly impeded as Tokoma witnessed the biggest rainbow she had ever laid her eyes upon. The rainbow was a completed arc, its many colors prominent against the sorrow sky.
"It's amazing!" Tokoma gasped in awe at the spectacle of light. Her eyes were fastened onto the rainbow, almost afraid the sight would disintegrate lest her eyes wander.
"It sure is." Greece mumbled, pulling his husband close to him. In one swift moment, he cupped Japan's face in his hands and joined their lips together.
Japan was slightly taken aback, but his hands coiled around the Greek's waist in an intimation of his approval. In a few second, Greece's tongue wandered in Japan's mouth and their lips moved against each other, equally matched.
"EWWWWWWWW!" Tokoma's whine brought the couple out of their affectionate gesture. The girl's nose was crinkled in disgust; a sour frown curled her lips. "Couldn't you do that in private or something?" she continued, tapping a foot on the soggy soil. "It's ruining the rainbow!" she nodded her head to the now-fading arch of color.
Greece, for a brief moment, appeared annoyed, but the expression vanished, replaced with a mischievous smirk. "You know what would make things even better?" he asked his daughter, placidly approaching her.
Tokoma disliked her πατέρας's expression and she backed away as fast as Greece was advancing. "What?" she inquired, fearing the answer.
"A visit from the Tickle Monster!"
Tokoma eyes blew up to the size of the tea saucers in the kitchen cabinet. With a little squeal, she retreated from Greece, who raced after her, eyes never once staying from their target. Tokoma yelped as the male's fingered caught her and ravaged her with tickles.
Tokoma screeched, shooing the hands away as she broke into another sprint.
This perpetuated, as the drizzle made its home on the ground, the rainbow melting in the fleeting light of the setting sun.
*~*~*
Tokoma's mind retrogressed to her current position on the deck, clothes still dry, eyes still absorbing the water. How long ago had that transpired? 8-9 years? What day had it been? Sometime in June or July? Perhaps April? Tokoma couldn't remember-didn't care to recall the exact date, month, year. She wasn't even positive the memory was valid. Perhaps it was a mere dream-a figment of her imagination, her picture of a time that never was.
Tokoma inhaled softly, listening to the sizzle of rain on grass. Whether that past event had or had not happened, this moment was live-playing right now- on February 11, 2010. This was a golden opportunity to recreate her mind's eye like she did with words, with drawings, with ideas. Tokoma deserted her post on the veranda and allowed the water to wash her as her bare feet sunk into the dirt, bloated with rainwater. She unwound, giving her body the permission to freely dance, spin, skip, exist in the storm. In minutes, she was soaked to the bone, drops caught in her hair.
Tokoma turned, the only witness as her parent slid out of the house and stood there, tossing back Tokoma's curious stare. Another memory-one of the recent ceremony around a small pile of presents, a pair of cat ears perched on black hair, flashed through her brain. It was otokooya's birthday, Tokoma recited for the umpteenth time that day. She came back the porch, her wet feet leaving behind muddy footprints on the wood. Maybe she'd add a little extra to that new katana case she'd had given him….
Her hands slipped into another hand, one for each parent. Tokoma produced a mental image of the energetic little girl dragging her reluctant parents with her. The 6-year-old was deleted, replaced with a 14-year-old, who, for the sake of doing something in the spur of the moment, leaped into the storm, two other nations in tow.
This chapter is more or less my birthday present to Japan! I adore Giripan and this is my way of answering the question "What if they had a child?" I had another chapter prepared as opposed to this one, but that chapter was just aweful. Too ashamed to type it up, I started from scratch and well….here's what happened! I hope you enjoyed it!
FOOTNOTES:
Πατέρας- Dad
Otokooya- Father
Arigato- Thank you
Σας ευχαριστούμε- Thank you
Dansu- Dance
Nagai rekishi no naka ni wa – In my long history
hiki komotte ita toki mo aru – There were times where I withdrew into myself
Minasan yori wa – Compared to everyone else
unto jiisan touyou ni ukabu watashi – I am very much an old man, floating in the Orient
As you can see, the song above isn't really one you'd want to dance to in terms of lyrics, but I found that it would be ironic to have a gloomy song being sung at such a time.
Also, I am going to be needing a lot of help with the languages in this fic, so if you are fluent in an of the languages below (or know enough to help me with translations), please either PM me or leave a review with the language you know and that you would like to be my personal translator. (I will be putting the names next to thelanguages already taken.)
French-nanxi
Greek-????
Japanese-???
Chinese-nanxi
Korean-???
German-???
Italian-???
Hungarian (possibly)-???
The list may change from chapter to chapter depending on who I may need.
Thanks again for reading and for all those who critiqued my French in the last chapter!
~AnimeOtakuFreak1029
