Of Hair
And he waited... who would be coming to finish him... He wanted to see... One last time... no right to think... destroyed so much...
'It is time to let him go.'
...someone stepping through... the flames. He rose once more to his feet... almost the most...
"..."
"Ja–––"
'My...'
"Have you come to kill me?"
'I want him to kill me. That was me talking. In the dream, that is. 'Have you come to kill me'. I used to think that was him speaking, but no. It was me. This dream self of mine wants this stranger to kill me. I wait for him to come and destroy me.
Why?'
"You're gonna what?"
"Cut my hair," Ludwig said firmly. Feliciano stared at him with his usual expression of 'I don't get it/why/huh?' that Ludwig was just coming to take as Feliciano's default thought process. At least, it added up to the greatest percentage of words that came out of his mouth. Other than pasta. Unless you counted rambling as a group, then that would be the greatest percentage. "I don't dink I like it being so long. It gets in de vay."
"Ve~" Feliciano tugged lightly on some of the hair in Ludwig's face. "How much'll be coming off?"
"Ah..." Ludwig reached up and brought his fingers up through his hair 'till they were closer to his head. "About here, I dink."
"That's short."
"Dat vas de point."
Feliciano hummed, the way Ludwig had come to realize was him trying to think. Finally, Feliciano seemed to come to a conclusion. "I can do it!" he exclaimed, arms waving everywhere.
"Vhat?" Ludwig questioned.
"I'll cut your hair! I'm good at that!"
"People trust you vith scissors?" Ludwig asked as Feliciano pulled him along.
"Of course! I had to cut me and my brother's hair all the time, because other people would always try cutting the wrong things and then it would hurt and Romano was bad at cutting hair for a long time."
Ludwig tried to imagine what it was that other people tried to cut off. All he could come up with was the ear. That would be a very fast way to convince someone to cut their own hair. Not that either of Feliciano's ears looked as though they had been cut. Or bitten. Or...
Ludwig stopped his thought process before he could get any further. All he knew was he should really stop looking at Feliciano's ears and neck. What was wrong with him?
"Vhere are ve going?" Ludwig finally asked. Feliciano looked at him happily.
"My house! Though... it's been a while since I've been there, so no judging!"
"Ja," Ludwig nodded. Then he thought about it. "Den vhere vas it dat I saw you? Vhen you first made me pasta?"
"Oh! That was the home of the cook of one of my favourite restaurants!" Feliciano told him. "He's so nice! He says whenever I'm nearby and want to cook something I can just use his kitchen!"
"Do you..." Ludwig tried to consider it. "Do you often just go into your people's homes?"
"Oh yeah, all the time! They like it when I come to see them," Feliciano told him. "Don't you see your people?"
Ludwig thought about it. "I'fe been... slowly integrating myself."
"What? Okay," Feliciano looked at him strangely. Ludwig was not certain whether it was because it was a strange thing to say or whether it was because Feliciano did not know what integrating meant.
For some reason the outside of Feliciano's house looked crooked to him. Ludwig thought it was fitting. Either it explained why Feliciano had such a difficult time walking in a straight line or it was the cause of it. Feliciano finally let go of Ludwig's hand so he could pat himself down. "Now where are my keys... Ve..." Ludwig stood there for a few moments before taking a few steps toward the door, opening it. "Wow, thanks Ludwig!"
"But it vas not locked," Ludwig started to protest, but Feliciano went in without hesitation. Ludwig groaned. "Feliciano! Someone coult hafe broken in–"
"Nah, people break into my brother's house, not mine," Feliciano responded, turning on the light. Ludwig almost gagged at the condition of the place. Not that it was horribly messy per say (though Ludwig would never be caught dead living like this) but the amount of dust made him glad he was still toward the door.
Feliciano looked a bit dazed as he glanced about. Then he went and opened the window.
"I guess I'll be cleaning!" Feliciano announced, disappearing into another room Ludwig almost followed him, but did not really want to step farther into the house. "Sit down anywhere! I think..." his voice grew a bit fainter. "Here are some scissors!"
"Vhy don't ve clean first?" Ludwig shouted, staring with horror at the couch. Feliciano came back, staring at him.
"You want to help me clean?" he questioned.
"Yes please," Ludwig breathed out, near desperately. Feliciano grinned at him.
"I should've known... wait a sec!" Feliciano ran off back into the house. Ludwig took a quick look at the layout of the room and ran over to the other window, opening that one as well for fresh air. When was the last time he was here? Years ago? So much dust!
"Here we go!" Feliciano held up the things he had brought in. Ludwig stared at the bucket, the mop, the sponges, the cleaners and nearly had a heart attack. This was how he cleaned?
"Dis is going to take a vhile."
"Huh?"
Bunt, bunt, bunt sind alle meine Kleider.Just think of the song and clean. Do not think too much about the condition of the things around you.
For once being a maid in Roderich's house, Feliciano did not seem to know how to clean well. Ludwig supposed it would be good enough if the place was only slightly in disarray, but for real cleaning it would never do. Ludwig may have never have had to deal with anything in a condition like this, but he at least knew what direction to take.
"Ew, something's living back here."
"Feliciano! Don't touch dat!"
"What's this?"
"I dink... you'll hafe to buy a new television."
Bunt, bunt, bunt ist alles, was ich hab.
"Hey Ludwig! I'm going into the kitchen next!"
Ludwig nearly had another heart attack. "Please don't tell me dere's still food in dere."
Feliciano did not answer for a bit. "...no?"
Scratch that. Nothing could be as bad as this and he had no idea what direction to take. He almost wanted to call Elizaveta and ask her to save him from this terrible nightmare. They were going to toss the entire refrigerator. And Ludwig for once did not want to clean the larder, but he was not leaving that to Feliciano. Feliciano 've~'d his way through the cupboards.
Darum lieb ich alles, was so bunt ist.
"Ve..." Feliciano opened a door and then slammed it. Ludwig turned to see Feliciano leaning back against the door.
"Vhat is it?"
"Oh... nothing!" Feliciano gave him a slightly nervous smile. Ludwig stared. Maybe Feliciano did realize what they had gotten into. "There're just a... a lot of little dogs in the bathroom!"
Ludwig continued to stare. "Little... little dogs."
"Yep." Feliciano nodded. "Little dogs." Ludwig walked over.
"Let me see."
"No!"
"Feliciano!"
"Ludwig!"
Weil mein Schatz ein Maler, Maler ist.
It commenced in a struggle which ended with Ludwig opening and slamming the door much like how Feliciano had. Cockroaches. Ludwig managed to muffle his scream in Feliciano's shoulder. Feliciano wrapped his arms around him.
"Aren't they cute little dogs?" Ludwig tried not to cry. "Normally they're four legged, like Blackie and Aster, but these ones are special."
"You'fe been sniffing de cleaner, hafen't you," Ludwig moaned.
Feliciano sighed. "I think that's enough cleaning for today," Feliciano's head leaned against his.
"I'm going to hafe nightmares about dis for life." That was one thing Ludwig was certain of. Feliciano pulled him so they both could sit down on the cleaned couch. He sat there, head on Feliciano's shoulder, and tried to forget about everything he had just seen.
Feliciano was a painter. Not a maid. Definitely never a maid. Nor a great planner, because he had obviously not meant to not come back to the house, or else there would not have been dirty dishes still in the sink.
Dear god...
"I'll cut your hair now. But I'd have to brush it first. Let me go find a bru–"
"No," Ludwig said firmly. "You are not brushing my hair vith anyding left in dis house."
"How about my fingers?" Ludwig groaned again and Feliciano started running his fingers through his hair. Which felt very nice. Ludwig shut his eyes. He could almost fall asleep like this, except he could not. Not in this house, anyway. Not until they had cleaned it out completely.
"Feliciano..."
"What?"
"Feliciano..."
"Yeah?"
"Ah..."
"Should I get a mirror?" Feliciano asked. Ludwig's eyes shot open as he heard the sounds of snipping behind his head.
"Bu– vell–"
"Hold your head still!" Feliciano scolded him. Ludwig winced, then kept as still as he could. Feliciano hummed as he snipped away and Ludwig could feel his hair falling on to his arms and on to his lap. He shut his eyes as Feliciano brushed some of it into his face.
"Ve just cleaned dis floor."
"All done!" Ludwig brushed his hands over his eyelids before opening them and looking toward Feliciano. Feliciano stared at him for a few moments, face very close to his. Ludwig leaned back slightly, hoping that his face was not really as warm as he felt it to be. "There's a mirror over here!" Feliciano hopped up to his feet, pulling him to the corner of the room. "What d'ya think?"
Ludwig stared at the mirror, at his face, for a few moments. For some reason... he had thought getting a new hair style would look a little weird at first, but it did not. This did not look strange at all. If Ludwig did not think about it, he could say his hair had been like this all along.
Though that would be stupid, especially with evidence of his hair all over the floor.
"I like it," he told Feliciano, looking back over at the Italian. "Dank you."
"Then keep it like that," Feliciano said firmly. Ludwig blinked.
"Vhat?"
"Don't! Don't... don't gel it back, or anything," Feliciano said, if a bit nervously. "Okay? Just keep it like that."
It was a strange request. Ludwig might almost have laughed at it, but for the look on Feliciano's face. "I... I vas not planning to..."
"Promise?"
Ludwig sighed. "I promise not to change my hair. Is dis necessary?"
"Yeah," Feliciano exhaled, kissing his cheek. Ludwig scowled, turning his face away from him. If he was not blushing before, he certainly was now. "Come over tomorrow to help me clean some more?"
"Vell... I can't leafe you to do it yourself," Ludwig huffed, continuing to stare at the wall at his right. Why were Italians all... touchy? He had asked Elizaveta about it and she had said it was not just him... which both made him feel better and made him– No! It just made him feel better. It was just... Italian. Ludwig was not the only one who got his personal space invaded.
"Thanks Ge-Ludwig. Thanks Ludwig."
Ludwig did not notice the slip up or think about it. Feliciano nearly screamed at himself after Ludwig left, wondering why he had just made Ludwig look more like Germany.
Hungary had been cleaning the mirrors when she saw Germany in the reflection. She barely kept herself from screaming, turning around to see Ludwig and nearly screamed again.
"Your hair!" she gasped. Ludwig looked at her oddly for a moment before he seemed to remember that he did not like such attention and looked away.
"I got it cut," he said obviously. "I dought... thought it voult be a nice change."
It might have looked nice on him, but Hungary could definitely not say it was a change. He had gotten so tall. Maybe it was more obvious to her, because she was so much shorter than him now. He still looked like a child, but still...
So much like Germany. Hungary tried not to cry.
"It looks very nice, Ludwig. It suits you perfectly."
"Really?" he asked, as always hoping he had pleased her. Hungary now tried not to laugh hysterically. When was the last time she had seen Germany?
"Yes, of course!"
When they were caught entering Germany's house, he demanding in a dead voice that Austria join him. She fought him then. She fought hard. But she was no match for him. For so long she did not remember anything.
"Dank you," Ludwig gave her a small smile and then continued in the house, dogs tailing behind.
She had never thought about having to forgive Germany for that moment. Not even through the times she had believed Ludwig could be him. She believed that Ludwig once was Germany. She believed this after reading through his journal.
But if it was true? If it was actually true?
It was surprising that she found herself able to forgive him so easily.
Just continue to be my Ludwig, please. Just continue to be my little boy.
She regained herself a little too late. She could hear the exclamation from Roderich, who was not as often as good at restraining himself. Hungary let out a small curse and ran up the stairs.
He had thought it was Hungary at first. After all, he was working and Ludwig had gone out. Austria did not know whether he was home yet, but if he was Ludwig never interrupted him unless he wanted to go out and that would be slightly repetitive. "Come in," he said, not stopping.
"Roderich?"
Now that was Ludwig's voice. Austria turned around to see him.
And saw Germany. He let out a strangled noise, rising to his feet.
Ludwig took a step back, looking shocked. Probably not as shocked as Austria felt... but he understood. It was just Ludwig. Just... just him. Austria quickly tried to think of damage control.
"You cut your hair?" he said incredulously. How ridiculous, now it was going to look as though he was tight and controlling about Ludwig's hair of all things. Just wonderful.
"I'm sorry," Ludwig responded immediately. Austria sighed, shaking his head.
"It... I'm sorry. I almost thought you were Gilbert. It looks too much like Gilbert's haircut."
Ludwig blinked, obviously never having considered that angle. And it was true. It looked like Prussia's hair. When not gelled back, Germany's hair looked a lot like Prussia's.
"Oh."
Hungary walked up behind Ludwig, giving Austria a look he recognized well. "It looks better on you than it does on him. Don't worry about it."
"Ah... really?" Ludwig questioned. Austria gave him a small smile.
"I don't lie to make you feel better, Ludwig." He returned to his chair and turned back to his work.
"Dat's true." Ludwig let out a low whistle. Austria turned to stare at him. "S-sorry to boder you, Mister Roderich!" And with that he scampered around Hungary and back downstairs. Hopefully to do his chores which he neglected in lieu of going out.
"Roderich..." Hungary closed the door behind her and walked up behind him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and resting her head on his shoulder.
"What? Did we not expect him to look like Germany? We already knew this. And why wouldn't he cut his hair to look like Gilbert's? For heavens know what reason he looks up to the idiot."
"Right," she responded.
Neither moved for a while.
He had managed to surprise Elizaveta and scare Roderich with his new haircut. Plus, he had Feliciano's promise to not do anything weird with it. Ludwig was beginning to wonder whether cutting his hair had been worth it. Yesterday turned out to be too weird.
Was it really too much to hope that Gilbert might just act normal about it? Gilbert always said hair was just hair, it did not really matter. Even though Ludwig could very easily tell Gilbert took almost precarious care of his own hair, like it might fall out if he did not make it perfect. The man could be a walking hypocrite.
Ludwig thought it was funny. A little tiring at times, but funny nevertheless.
"You vanted to meet me here, Südwessi?" Gilbert shouted toward him from where he stood at the wall.
"Obviously. I callet!" Ludwig shouted back. Which is about when Gilbert fell off the wall. Ludwig stared incredulously at the sight for a few moments before running over. "Are you all right?"
"Of course!" Gilbert scoffed, brushing himself off quickly. "I mean to do dat!" Aster licked at his gloves. Ludwig looked at Blackie, who had sat down beside him. Her mouth was open, as if she were panting out her laughter. Ludwig tried to keep his smile in check.
"Sure you did," Ludwig snickered. Gilbert glared at him for a few moments, before attempting to pretend the incident never happened.
"I see ya cut your hair," Gilbert drawled.
"Actually..." Ludwig remembered that Gilbert was not being literal, nor was he going to mention that Feliciano cut it because he did not want to get into a conversation about Feliciano with Gilbert. "Ja."
"Vhy'd ya get it cut?" Gilbert leaned back against the wall. He was the first person to ask. Ludwig could not help smiling now.
"De hair kept getting in my face."
"Ah, you pussy." And his smile was gone.
"You try playing de piano vith Roderich behind you, vaiting for a single mistake! You von't vant any hair getting in your eye den!" Ludwig retorted with irritation. Oh, he bet Gilbert could not play the piano! Another reason why Roderich said he did not like him, most likely.
"Vha... you play piano?"
Gilbert sounded so incredulous, so much like he was going to laugh. Ludwig instantly felt defensive. "Of course I to! You dink Roderich voult let me life in his house if I didn't?"
"No." Gilbert shook his head.
"Exactly."
"No, I meant I don't dink you can play the piano. You're lying."
Ludwig scowled. "I can too. I'll prove it."
"Right," Gilbert threw an arm around him and tugged him off toward the west. "Though... I'll hafe you know, if you play someding like 'Twinkle, Twinkle' vith one finger, I reserve all rights to beat you up."
"Vhat's 'Twinkle, Twinkle'?" Ludwig questioned. Gilbert sighed.
"Never mind."
Gilbert took him to a bar. Barely anyone was there, but then again it was only late afternoon. Ludwig had never been inside a bar before and found himself wandering toward the counter. Gilbert laughed, but pulled him toward a piano.
"Dey have pianos in bars?"
"That's vhy they are called 'piano bars', Süden." Ludwig sat down as Gilbert gave a wave toward the barkeeper. Ludwig stared at the keys and wondered just how many people could have possibly played this piano. Then he tried not to think about it.
"I only know one piece vithout any music..." Ludwig told him. Gilbert shrugged.
"Den play it."
Ludwig only was able to play four notes before Gilbert stopped him.
"'Für Elise'? Are you serious? Roddy had you memorize dat? Bastard!"
"Vhat?" Ludwig gaped at him. Gilbert seemed to regain himself, beginning to laugh.
"Part of a history dat vould take a little too long to explain." He snickered some more. "Go on."
Ludwig frowned, looking at Gilbert for a little longer before staring ahead of himself. He was certain he should feel less pressured to play it perfectly. Gilbert was not a master piano player, like Roderich and would not nitpick him (hopefully). Still, he found his heart beating quickly as he played through the piece. When he finished, he looked over at Gilbert.
The man, frankly put, looked stunned.
"You did it!"
"You dought I'd be dat bad?" Ludwig asked, a little bit hurt by Gilbert's lack of faith in him. But Gilbert shook his head, still staring at him with that same expression.
"No! I'm just amazed anyone taught by Austria can actually play de piano! It vas amazing!"
"It'd better be," Ludwig said bitterly. "I practised dis until I got sick of it. Now I can't play much else vell."
Gilbert laughed so loudly and for so long the barkeeper threw them both out.
Thank you for reading a chapter about what happens when a boy has his hair cut.
Feliciano and Ludwig fighting over a door... Forget what I said a few chapters back, Feliciano is as good as only sixteen. He is just supposed to be older. Oh. And thank Dancing Feather for the 'little dogs'. Oh boy.