Chapter Seven: Gift from the Heart

It was unbearable. America spent the entire time dragging him along, not caring in the least how tired and decorous Japan's protests were becoming. He talked nonstop; introducing him to random people he did not even care to know and showing him off like a new toy. Finally, Japan grabbed a bottle of champagne and kicked it to the other side of the room, ducking out of his grasp as he heard it smash against the wall. America ran over to investigate the sound, yelling about the stain on the new carpet.

He slipped out, silent as a ninja, onto the deck. He was deliriously happy to be out of the stuffy ballroom, and immediately sprinted to his room to grab his comfortable, familiar clothing. If America asked, he would tell him he felt sick and planned to go to bed. And he would lock the door, he thought darkly as he leaned over the railing overlooking the sea. The last thing he needed was the man busting into his room in the middle of the night to chat or, even worse, to offer him disgusting food Japan suspected was full of preservatives and drugs.

He peered over the railing, climbing up so he could look at the water running below. It glowed from the setting sun as if it was on fire, and he leaned forward more.

"Maybe," he mused, staring into the glinting water, "Maybe the most honorable way to get through this…."

He stepped up higher on the railing, kimono fluttering softly. He took a deep breath.

"I'm going to jump off and kill myself. I…I cannot take the rest of my life being treated like a toy. Wait. No. If I do that, I fail in my promise to my people! That is dishonorable…but maybe…"

Japan leaned forward so the cold metal pressed into his abdomen.

"I don't think my people would be happy with the way they are going to be treated, like me. So, out of pity for my people, I should jump-?"

It was all very puzzling. But that was normal for Japan's stressed mind. Thinking heavily on honor and ethical codes only served to muddle it up further.

"Japan! Japan! What are you doing?"

The sudden interruption startled Japan badly, throwing him off balance. His foot slipped, and he screamed, shutting his eyes as he fell. So he would have to die anyway…

He opened his eyes, and realized he was not dead, but it was just as bad. Both hands were clinging onto the bottom railing, and, as he looked down, he felt nauseated. The ship was going at a tremendous speed, and his legs dangled precariously. If he fell, he would not survive. His heart thumped, and he shook.

"JAPAN!"

Italy's concerned and shocked face peered over the edge, and Japan's stomach lurched as he struggled to hold onto the rails. Italy bent down low and stretched out his hand.

"Japan, Japan, grab onto me, I'll pull you up carefully…"

Japan looked up at him, terrified.

"I-I don't know if I c-can do that…my arms h-hurt and I c-can't swim..."

"I thought you said you were a naval officer once or something!"

"J-just please get me up!"

He tried swinging up his arm to catch Italy's, but missed miserably, gasping in pain and re-grabbing the rail. Italy bent dangerously forward, almost off the boat. He reached down and hooked his hands under Japan's arms.

"Urgh…you're…h-heavy…"

Japan flushed.

"I am lighter than you, I beg your pardon!"

Italy heaved Japan on the deck, and the Asian promptly collapsed, a lump of jelly.

"Arigatou, Italia-kun…I thank you so much…"

"It's nothing, Japan! I couldn't let you drown or something!"

Japan got up shakily, leaning on Italy for support.

"America says I can't talk to you. Thank you for saving me, I appreciate it," Japan said all in one breath. He began to move away from Italy.

"W-wait! I wanted to talk to you!"

"We can't," Japan replied. "If America sees you or me talking to one another, he said he might hurt you. Please refrain."

"B-but…" Italy was at a loss for words. "I made you a going-away present!"

Japan sighed, looking both ways. Seeing that it was clear, he went back to Italy.

"Show me, quickly, please."

Italy reached into his pocket, rummaging for a good minute, in which Japan looked around anxiously.

"Italia-kun, why is your curl missing?"

"That? Oh," He finally pulled out a box from his shirt pocket. "I cut it off in return for boat tickets. But don't worry, it'll grow back. I think…"

He handed the decorated box to Japan, placing it in his palms. It had a little ruffled pink bow, which Japan undid carefully with his index and thumb fingers. He placed it delicately off to the side, and began to cautiously peel off the wrapping in one neat piece.

Italy sighed impatiently as Japan started to remove each individual piece of tape, tapping his feet and squirming in place. He finally snatched it and tore the wrapping all off, oblivious to Japan's scathing glare.

"See?"

"I…don't get it?"

It was a small, beautifully engraved, heart-shaped locket with tiny drawings of noodles framing it. A gold sculpted mochi, so small he could barely notice it, kept it closed.

"I made it myself when I was bored a few days ago," Italy exclaimed. "I like all kinds of art!"

Japan hesitantly lifted it over his neck, then seemed to change his mind halfway through, holding it up to Italy's honey-brown eyes.

"Italy," he pointed out, "Jewelry is typically for women."

"You're supposed to put a picture or something in it," explained Italy. "Kinda like a purse. 'Cept it's a man-purse, right, Japan?"

"Yes," agreed Japan halfheartedly, pulling it over his head and tucking it, hidden, into his shirt. He did not want to hurt his feelings.

"Oh, yeah, one more thing," Italy held up a matching necklace. "It's like a friendship necklace, so even when you're far away, we'll always have these and think of all the cool stuff we did when we hung out!"

Japan bit his lip, rubbing his eyelids. He was about to explain slowly that he just couldn't do that, when Italy took him by surprise, taking up Japan's necklace and inserting his hair curl snip into it. He shut it with a snap.

"And now, you…"

"Me, wh-what?"

He yelped as Italy twanged some hair from his head, then lay the raven strand into his own locket.

"O-ow…WHAT WAS THE PURPOSE OF THAT?"

"Oh, it means it's like a magic charm, so the other person is always safe as long as they have the hair! Holy Roman…Empire…" Italy deflated slightly. "T-taught it to…me—"

Japan could hear heavy boots coming round the corner, and he pushed Italy frantically.

"Quick, go to your room!"

"But I wanna talk more, Japa—"

Japan shot him a look of apology, and dashed across the deck as fast as he could.