Chapter 11 - Plausch
There came a slow and cautious creak from behind her where she lay in her bed. Germany was pretty sure it was her brother coming to check on her. Considering how she hadn't left her bedroom for about two or three days since the incident, she felt it was about time someone had come to check if she were still alive. It's not so much that she felt they were being too apathetic towards her, but after Italy had left her a couple of days ago, she figured it'd be nice to have someone else come in and see her for a change. When the soft padding of footsteps had come to a halt, she assumed Prussia was standing right behind her from where she lay in hiding for quite some time. She could feel his gaze lingering on the back of her shrouded figure, examining for any signs of life. Germany deliberately stirred a little just to satisfy him, and an audible sigh of relief immediately filled the air.
"Oy…West," he called out to her in a low voice. No response. Prussia tried one more time, "West…I know you're awake." The second try managed to evoke a low and very brief grunt from beneath those bed sheets.
"Come, Schwester, you haven't eaten in three days. What about your whole 'Sufficient sleep and proper nutrition are of valued importance!' shit that you keep imposing on everybody?" he asked of her, clearly mocking her in her usual haranguing demeanor as he shook an accosting figure at no particular person. Despite his teasing her and his bringing up of her usual aphorisms, she only scrunched further into her seemingly-protective bed sheets. Prussia is definitely not one to tolerate any form of disobedience, and the insolence he had just been receiving from this incompetent girl in her bed educed a single vein to strain against his temple.
"So that's how you wanna play it…" he said aloud to himself, his voice low and threatening.
Germany had ignored that low mumble of a sentence just as she had with her brother's previous requests, but she was only left completely aghast the very moment she felt strong and forceful arms scoop her completely from underneath her, detangling her from her bed sheets as she was roughly slung over her brother's shoulder. A shriek of pure surprise shattered through walls only to be followed by the incessant and strident cries of protests as Prussia forcefully brought her downstairs to the kitchen like a sack of rice straight from the market.
"Dammit! Bruder, I'm not hungry! Put me down now!" she demanded him. Despite her fists constantly pounding against his back and wherever else she could effectively reach, he didn't even give so much as a flinch. Curse this diminished female stamina of hers.
"Now, when was the last time that one brother who left his sister to starve to death make it on the cover of 'Super Big Brother' monthly, hmm? As I recall, it was never."
Prussia's bizarre analogy had caught her off guard and left her completely befuddled, giving him enough time to throw her onto the nearest dining chair with very little protest or difficulty, save for the slight grunt from his excessive use of force and an annoyed glare shot straight between his eyes.
"I'll be a second," he mentioned before whipping out a finger in front of her face, effectively gathering all her attention. "You best not move a single centimeter off your seat—I'll only drag you back and duct tape you down."
He held her eyes in a deadlock stare for a moment, to which she responded with an equally determined glare. The annoyed huff that blew out of her nose reached Prussia as a sign of her willingness to cooperate. It was annoying enough that he actually had to drag her out of bed to have a bite to eat—like hell she was going to let it happen a second time, let alone risk that promise of being duct taped down. Prussia then left her in her seat and disappeared into the kitchen. Germany sat obediently still, fidgeting every other second before leaning on an elbow in boredom and slight pique. After a brief moment and some clattering of dishes and utensils—Prussia's disregard for fine china and silverware can get quite alarming sometimes—he emerged back into the dining room with a plate in hand. The contents remained a mystery to her until he finally reached her with merely a meter's distance: it was a steaming plate of bratwurst—six succulent sausages meticulously lined up, drizzled beautifully with copious amounts of mustard. Germany heard her stomach growl violently, and judging from the startled look and the slight flinch from Prussia, he must have heard it, as well.
"Goddamn," he teased her with a chuckle. "And you were the one who didn't want to eat…pfft."
She reddened involuntary from his deriding remarks. There's no denying that Germany was hungry, but she had just been feeling too stubborn and too upset to do so much as even get a single bite for herself these past few days. Nonetheless, Prussia wasn't going to have any of it. She knew full-well that he'd keep her in place until she finished every single bite under his monitor—he'd shove it all down her throat if he really had to, so there's no point in resisting her body's needs any longer. He finally set the plate of sausages in front of her, the tantalizing smoky aroma reaching her nostrils, causing her to involuntarily hum in hunger. Her eyes rose curiously, finding her brother, who kept on a very stern face, leaning directly in front of her from the opposite side of the table.
"I'm not leaving until this plate is sparkling clean."
Her eyes fell from his to the fork that he left by her plate on the table. With tentative fingers, she picked it up, briefly eyeing it as if deliberating what proper course of action to utilize it with. She looked back at her brother another time, who responded with a gesture signaling her to go on and get her task over with. Slowly and carefully, as if any wrong movement could trigger some sort of massive explosion, she drove her fork into a juicy sausage. The slight resistance she felt upon impaling her fork on the sausage implied to her of the juicy and meaty flavor that's about to follow, bringing her to lick her lips in anticipation. She brought the sausage to level with her mouth before taking a small and careful bite. That single bite was all it took, instantly bringing Germany back to earth in touch with her instincts—the explosion of smoky, meaty flavor and juices in her mouth made her groan in sheer delight. She was famished, and there's no point in holding back. She immediately changed her pace, devouring the rest of the impaled sausage like a starved beggar before moving on the rest of the victims lined up on her plate. Oh, how she loved bratwurst. And oh, how she loved her brother for caring enough to even consider making her a plate.
Prussia sighed in utter relief that her sister is now that much farther from starving herself. He took the seat right in front of Germany, watching intently as she enthusiastically devoured each bratwurst, one by one. There was really no point for him to sit there and oversee that she eat her food because her body simply wouldn't allow her to stop at this point, but it served more as a reassurance to him that Germany was still willing to keep herself healthy and energized, despite her despondency lately. He leaned on one elbow, watching with much satisfaction as she finished the last bite, equally as satisfied as her brother if not more. She dropped her fork onto the plate with a loud clatter, disregarding her own carelessness with the china and the silverware as she fell back onto her chair, exhaling a full sigh of pure contentment. Prussia cackled victoriously after successfully getting his stubborn little sister to eat after three days without food. He abruptly stood and made his way back into the kitchen. "You're not quite done yet, West! There's a whole pot-full waiting for you in the kitchen! I'll be back with another plate."
She began stuttering in surprise and incredulity. "Wha—Bruder, I just finished a plate, I'm quite satisfied!" she insisted. Prussia simply scoffed. "As if, West! You haven't eaten for three days—that's only one meal out of the nine you've missed already!"
"Y-You can't just expect me to eat nine meals worth of food in one sitting! I'll only get sick!" she yelled at him. Prussia stopped in his tracks and turned to face her, hands on his hips as if he were waiting for something. Germany expressed her confusion towards his odd behavior, but was immediately distracted and jumped quite a bit when her stomach gave out yet another growl, scrounging for more alms. That second growl alone was enough of a confirmation for Prussia as he shook his head at her with an I-told-you-so grin all across his face. "In that case, I'll just stuff you until your stomach stops growling, how about that?" he teased her before he made his way back into the kitchen with his trademark cackle.
Germany leaned back onto her seat with an audible and annoyed groan. While she waited for her brother to return with her second plate, rubbing her stomach in slow and soothing circles, she heard soft scraping noises coming from behind her. The day Austria picks up a broom or a mop marks the beginning of the apocalypse, but for some reason it didn't quite feel like that day had come just yet. Germany turned around swiftly to assure herself that the apocalypse had yet to come and that someone other than Austria must be doing the sweeping—and right she was.
"Ah, Doitsu-san, if you could move your chair just a little to the side, please. I need to sweep under the table for a moment."
Germany was caught in quite a surprise. It seemed like quite a while since she had last seen Japan. "J-Japan!" she exclaimed with considerable cheer. "Why are you here?" she asked him, confused and uninformed. Then the sight of broom in his hand struck her in disagreement. "And why are you cleaning my house? I told you, you don't have to clean anything of mine—that's my job," she insisted with slight embarrassment of having someone else do her usual chores.
Japan swept beneath the table and maneuvered efficiently beneath and around her feet, behaving nonchalantly towards her opposition to his doing her part of the housekeeping. "I've been told that you have not been feeling well for quite some days, so I decided to stop by and take over for you. It would be a shame to let your house fall apart whenever you are feeling ill," he explained nonchalantly as he moved on to another corner around the dining room.
"That's very kind of you, but…it's really unnecessary," she insisted, a little embarrassed that she had locked herself up long enough to actually find someone else doing her chores for her. "Here," she suddenly said, quickly standing to reach for the broom in his hand. Japan only brought up a hand against her, indicating that she need not continue the work at all.
"Doitsu-san, you should replenish some of your energy first before you do any more work just yet," Japan suggested with sincere concern for her well-being. Something about the way Japan approaches people just leaves her feeling as if she had no other choice but to do as he suggests. She slowly retreated back to her seat, patiently waiting for the next plate coming her way. Just when she took her seat again, Prussia returned with another familiar plate of bratwurst.
"Don't worry, Japan—once she recovers from her food coma, she'll be working on those chores like the usual pro she is!" Prussia chimed, shoving the second plate in her direction.
"It's really no trouble, Puroisen-san," Japan insisted as he swept up the last square meters of the dining room. Germany felt awful whenever Japan insisted on doing her part of the household cleaning and it always baffled her why he would even insist on cleaning someone else's home, but it wasn't the time to ponder on such matters. In front of her sat a second serving (that is, if six sausages is considered a single serving) of bratwurst, ready to be eaten. Prussia reclaimed his previous spot, overlooking her nutrition with much earnest as before. He wouldn't allow her to even think of other tasks that needed to be done until she filled her stomach to the brim, so she took the initiative and dug into her second plate immediately.
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"Hmm…"
They were in a peculiar position, no doubt. Germany was seething frustration with her older brother at the moment as he kneeled before her with his ear pressed against her belly, slightly extended from the generous amounts of food he fed her, listening for any sign of famish. All the while, Japan stood in the sidelines, observing them with a mix of confusion and interest.
"A-ano…Puroisen-san, what exactly are you—"
"Shh! Just give me a second," he interrupted the confused man in the side.
Germany could no longer repress a low growl of annoyance. "Bruder, can't you feel how distended my stomach is? I'm practically bearing a food baby at the moment," she disputed, but she was only met with a finger from below in response, which only piqued her further. The feel of fingers applying pressure against her stomach only increased her urge to smash a fist down her brother's cranium. Fortunately for her—or for Prussia, depending on what could have happened within another moment—he finally pulled away with a reassured nod.
"Yup! You're full, baby Schwester!" he cheerfully concluded, lightly patting her belly for emphasis before standing.
She could only growl at him. "I don't understand the point of all that—why couldn't you just believe me when I said I was full?"
"Because! There are times when you don't know what you're saying, West, so it's best if you just left it to my awesome big-brother instincts!" he confidently replied, tapping a finger against his temple as an indicator of his self-proclaimed awesome intuition. He then proceeded to ruffle her hair with both hands, effectively drawing out a blood-curdling snarl from the harassed girl as she tried fending him off with very little success. What caught her off guard, however, was when he suddenly ceased his obnoxious antics, only to properly rearrange her fringe back into place before gently placing his hands on her shoulders. Despite the small smile he still had on, Germany noticed how serious his countenance had suddenly become as he held her confused eyes in place.
"If you wanna talk," he started off in a soft and low voice, "just come talk to me, ok?" The expression on his face indicated that he needed a decent and surely positive response from her, so she replied with a slow nod of the head to let him know that she understood, even though on her face was a look of slight confusion to his sudden gentleness.
He then lightly and very carefully patted her cheek, so as not to cause any pain on where her bruise still remained. "That's my awesome little sister," he cheerfully remarked, a large grin stretching across his face. With all that's said and done, Prussia walked past her towards the staircase, finally leaving her alone for the rest of the day, she hoped. She shook her head a little, trying to brush away her confusion towards her brother's unusual behavior just a moment ago.
"Doitsu-san…?" Japan approached her cautiously, broom in hand. She turned his direction and, with an apologetic expression on her face, reached out for the broom.
"Japan, I thought I already told you—you really don't have to clean my house for me. I can do that myself," she kindly insisted as she took the broom for herself, proceeding to areas that Japan had yet to sweep, that is, if he hadn't completed the entire house just yet. As flattering and kind it was of him to be so considerate of her, it just seemed too degrading on her part to even let someone else do the household chores for her. While she examined an adjacent salon the two of them had walked into, Japan could not help but ask, "Are you well now, Doitsu-san?"
"Yeah, I'm—" Germany was just about to respond to his question as if it were an everyday subject, but immediately turned to face him in sudden realization that she had not yet told Japan about the incident with France, which immediately struck her with guilt since he is one of her allies, after all. "Do…Do you know about it?" she asked timidly, afraid that he may be insulted that she had unintentionally left him out of her business.
She received a straightforward nod from him. "Italy-kun called me that same day."
"Oh…I see…" The mention of Italy's name made her heart heavy.
"I would have called to make sure you were alright, myself," he continued, "but Italy-kun told me you were really upset by the time he left, so I decided it would be best not to bother you in the meantime."
The implications of those events made her stomach clench.
"I tried calling again, but Puroisen-san answered instead—he told me you were still not well. He actually invited me over today to maybe keep you company since…" He was struck with hesitance. "Well, since Italy-kun still seems upset…" She inhaled sharply—it seemed like he knew about her and Italy's little skirmish, as well.
With a dusting cloth in her other hand, she put the broom aside to pick up one of the porcelain figurines on a nearby shelf and mindlessly began wiping away the dust and debris on it, just to lighten her own growing solicitude. "…I'm really sorry I wasn't able to tell you myself," she softly and sincerely apologized to him. To display his ease towards everything, he took out one of his own cloths and joined her in cleaning the other figurines.
"No, no," he kindly insisted. "There is no need for apologies. What is important is that you are alright and well."
As he glanced at her direction, he saw a small smile grace her features as she looked up at him with an expression of gratitude. His cheeks reddened slightly. Japan had only seen Germany a few times since she had become female, and with that, he still had not gotten used to this inexplicable beauty she had so suddenly acquired. He awkwardly cleared his throat before redirecting his attention back to the porcelain figurine of a sleeping cat in his hands, dusting the fragile trinket with much care. Even then, he couldn't keep his eyes away. From beside him where Germany stood, he could feel the sorrow emanating from her, and with the knowledge he had, he knew it was more than just that incident with France. He observed how she slowly and absent-mindedly wiped the figurine of a little girl in her hands, and how the expression on her face reflected pure melancholy. Just as the figurine in her hand was so fragile, she seemed fragile to him, as well.
He carefully set the sleeping cat in his hands back onto the shelf, sparkling like new. "How are you and Italy-kun?" he asked her in a straightforward manner. He decided his approach was a little too sudden and straightforward from the sound of Germany's breath hitching at the mention of the issue. She suddenly caught a case of the butterfingers, fumbling clumsily with the little girl in her hands. Japan was quick to react, immediately catching the fragile little girl right when she slipped out of Germany's anxious fingers.
"T-Thank you," she breathed out in relief. "Austria would have killed me had I dropped that."
Japan examined the figurine to make sure no damage had been done and then proceeded to dust it off himself before taking Germany's hand and gently placing it back into hers, closing his hand onto hers in a fit of protectiveness and sudden compassion. She looked up at him, her brow slightly furrowed.
"Let us put off the cleaning another day—right now, there are much more important matters that require our attention."
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It was a beautiful day outside. The sun was shining, bright and warm, and the trees whistled with the birds as the breeze tickled its branches. She inhaled deeply, slowly and carefully taking her first breath of fresh air in a while. Beneath the white gazebo in their backyard is probably the best location for Germany to keep in touch with her inner tranquility, so she decided to wait there as Japan prepared tea for the two of them. It felt a little unnerving that she and Japan were about to discuss her issues with Italy, but it's not exactly something she could escape so easily. If the three of them were to work together, then such quarrels would only hasten their successes as a team. With teamwork aside, the three of them were supposed to be great friends, and Japan isn't one to let such a friendship go down so easily just because of a clash of feelings and a heap of misunderstandings. All of this, she had already known well from the beginning—and even then, she let her emotions get the best of her. With all honesty, she really did not know what to do anymore—with Italy or herself—and maybe Japan could be the one to mediate between the two of them. But before they were going to work anything out, she wanted to focus on the gentle nature surrounding her in her backyard first, grasping hold of her inner peace so that when she was on the verge of breaking down again, it would not be as intense or dramatic a scene as it had been before.
As her focus was centered on a pair of blue jays swimming playfully together in a bird bath, Japan finally returned with a tray in hand. In it were a brown ceramic kettle with two matching tea cups for the both of them—the tea set is clearly Japan's and not from Austria's collection of fine china sets. Germany watched him waveringly, her attention still partially being held in place by the beautiful weather all around her, as he ceremoniously poured a serving of hot tea for both her and himself. When he leaned over to offer her steaming tea cup, her fingers tentatively reached for it while she mumbled a soft mention of gratitude. The two of them simultaneously took small sips to start off, being so careful as to not scald their tongues. Although Germany was the first to pull away from her cup, she sat there silently, staring blankly at the swimming leftover black flecks of leaves that have sunk to the bottom which seemed to form an ominous blotch of some sort, unconsciously allowing Japan the opportunity to speak his mind first.
"The weather is quite beautiful today, isn't it, Doitsu-san?" he softly mentioned, his attention spread all across the beautiful garden that made up Germany's backyard. It took her quite some time to be broken out of her trance, responding a few seconds later with an awkward nod in agreement. Although she blushed a bit in embarrassment of being so unfocused, Japan seemed to be entranced by his own thoughts as he stared longingly into the blue distance bordered by fuzzy branches of green ahead of him.
He sighed softly. "Could you believe I've actually locked myself away from this beautiful sunshine for so long?" His eyes suddenly fell back on hers and they seemed to expect some sort of response from her since he was clearly trying to relate to the three days she had locked herself away.
She cleared her throat. "I-It's a shame you had to miss so many years of fresh air," she started off shakily, unsure of where the conversation should be leading. From there, she chose to continue the conversation, so that she could at least show him that she was interested in his company. Very rarely did they ever get to sit down together like this, after all.
"Didn't you feel lonely that entire time you were locked away in your house?" she asked quite mindlessly, in a sense, more on the intention of continuing the topic than trying to lessen its significance with herself.
Japan nodded straightforwardly. "Very lonely. When I look back on it now, I realize I was quite afraid. I seemed to have bottled up quite a bit of fear of all things around me. With all that fear, even I do not know how I managed to survive."
Germany was unsure of how to respond to him anymore. Upon noticing her brow furrow slightly , he decided to cut to the chase. "I truly am grateful that I came out of hiding eventually, because if I had not, I would not have met you and Italy-kun," he mentioned with much sincerity, flashing the tiny remnants of what could be a smile. She also couldn't help but give away a small smile, herself. She thought it very sweet that he actually valued their friendship this much.
"I realized that fear would have only inhibited all that this life had to uncover for me."
Something about this conversation seemed very familiar to her, as if she were hit with a mild case of déjà vu. But with a subtle gasp of breath, she had come to truly realize that Japan had been trying to reach out to her without directly referring to her own fears. He seemed to have noticed how she realized his method of bringing her out of hiding, yet he held his gaze with hers so steadily, as if he really were just speaking his thoughts aloud to her. The grip of her fingers on the tea cup tightened steadily. She cast her eyes down in a tiny wave of embarrassment that he was able to weed out her troubles so easily and so subtly.
She began with a very low voice, "Would you believe me if I said I'm actually afraid of Italy right now?"
"I believed as much when I saw that bruise on his face."
She flinched heavily, the sudden flashback of her fist colliding with his jaw drowning her in a storm of guilt. "I have no intention of making you feel guilty, or making you the villain in all this," he explained. "I just want you to realize that you've made a mistake that you never meant to make."
"I have realized it," she replied remorsefully, lightly setting her tea cup down on the table before she finds the opportunity to chuck it into the nearby bird bath. She sighed. "I just don't enjoy having to accept it."
"It is difficult for anyone to accept something they are not very proud of," he reasoned with her. "But if you realize why you had done it in the first place, it will become easier to solve the problems behind it."
Fingers began twiddling along the table. "Have you…talked to Italy about this?" she asked him anxiously. She looked up at him, only to see him shake his head.
"Doitsu-san, you think you are emotionally unstable now, but you may have forgotten that Italy-kun is even more so than you are, especially now that his own heart is also broken."
"It's my heart he had broken, first," she unintentionally retorted with much bitterness. Japan was not offended or at all fazed. He held his gaze on her—he had expected just as much eventually. "I think…" she trailed off much more softly than before, "…I just wanted to even the score between us. But now that we're even, I regret what I've done." She leaned her forehead on one hand, shielding her remorse from Japan's eyes. She then felt him reach out to her, his hand making contact with hers that rested on the table.
"You must also consider," he continued gently, "that Italy-kun hadn't realized his own mistakes, either. He had no idea he had been hurting you this entire time."
A brief silence followed. "That's just how he is all the time: oblivious to others' feelings," she responded bitterly.
"…You are just angry, that's all."
He continued staring at her, examining her reactions to his words, pondering over her words in turn and her true feelings behind them, before coming to a conclusion.
"I don't think it is really Italy-kun you are afraid of, Doitsu-san."
Upon those words, she raised her eyes towards him in interest and confusion. "I think you are just afraid of being rejected by him." Crystal-blue eyes redirected to the tall oak tree on her right. "It makes sense," Japan continued, disregarding her seemingly wavering attention towards his reasoning. "You have never been in love, neither have you ever been rejected in love…have you?"
She swallowed a little. "I…feel like he has rejected me before without realizing it…" she responded tentatively. She was unsure of her own answer to his question. "I don't like to dwell on the possibility because it hurts…"
"Then it is only natural to be afraid."
"I don't like being afraid," she replied firmly, her hand tightening into a fist on the table. "I'm not supposed to be afraid, especially of trivial matters such as these."
"Then find a way to overcome this fear."
Her eyes shot up to meet his. That line was certainly something she had heard before. "Every human has his fears, and I'm sure you've had it in the middle of battle—you've just found those fears easier to overcome than this—this is something completely different and inexplicable. For many of us, it is beyond our comprehension; hence, many others feel afraid of it, also."
They stared each other down for some moments. "Have you ever been in love, Japan?" she suddenly yet softly asked with much curiousity.
She elicited a subtle chuckle from him. "During my many years on this earth? I have had my few loves." He leaned onto his elbow once more, staring into the fluffy clouds in wonder. "After all these years, I still haven't found the one yet, it seems." His eyes fell back on Germany's, who had hers wide open in wonder. "But, Doitsu-san, you must realize: these are things that cannot be rushed. I am past my prime, but you have the advantage of youth. Do not let your fears inhibit you because you will only be holding back the possibilities."
She was still unconvinced. "But what if…"
"What if he does not love you back for who you really are?" Her eyes looked up at him with the greatest amount of worry he had never seen on her before, shocking him quite a bit, yet he still stood his ground. "…Then you move on."
That, too, was a very familiar piece of advice. "Move on while you are still young. With youth comes an infinite amount of chances and opportunities. You must realize this now before it is too late."
She blinked a few times, letting the weight of his wisdom sink into her. "Remember how much Italy cares for you—he may not love you back for who you really are the same way you love him, but he would never forsake you. I have enough confidence in these words."
A burst of airiness suddenly emerged from between them. Germany could not hold back the small smile that rose along her cheeks—she felt like Japan had just taken her hand and lifted her out of a hole she could not seem to climb out of, herself. There was still a small ounce of fear that remained, but thanks to him, she found a reason to come out of hiding and at least continue walking this rocky path. But the both of them knew that it would not just go on smoothly from there—there was an unfinished job in her hands.
"Talk to him," he suddenly added. "You will never know unless you talk to him about it."
She nodded slowly, her eyes roaming around in thought. With both hands and a determined sigh, she lifted her tea cup to him, holding his eyes with her own as she quietly mentioned, "Thank you."
Japan lifted his tea cup, as well. "I am always happy to help."
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The doors that towered in front of her were foreboding. For as long as they have been living together, Germany would make any excuse to keep from entering her brother's bedroom at any cost, save for those few times she was brave enough to attempt cleaning it. After what seemed like an unnecessary eternity of standing still, her hand tentatively reached out for that ostentatious knocker placed in the mouth of a fierce solid-gold jaguar. She began knocking in steady motions and even rhythm—he could certainly hear that thunderous knocker from miles away, so she needn't bother to knock more than twice. Within a few seconds, she could hear soft rustling accompanied by some clamor and curses coming from the inside. The door violently swung open, taking Germany by surprise as she found her brother half-dressed and seemingly in the process of completing the task.
There were no words shared. On Prussia's face was a questioning and suspicious look, his patience seemingly running on a lit fuse. Germany sighed. "I'd like to talk with you," she said very straightforwardly.
In no time, a wide grin stretched across her brother's face from ear to ear. "Oh~ So you've come to bask in my awesomeness, I see."
She rolled her eyes at his usual haughty nature. "If that's the way you'd like to put it, then yes, that's what I'm here for," she attempted to humor him.
He suddenly held up a hand. "That's fine and all, but you have to wait for my awesomeness to get dressed first."
"Wha—" she stuttered in bafflement. "I'm your brother—can't you just get dressed while we talk in your room?"
"Wha—" he also stuttered in bewilderment to such a suggestion. "Right now, you are my sister. What kind of indecent ideas are you provoking me with?" he chided her. "For one, I can't just let an unmarried woman walk into my bedroom willy-nilly—"
Germany's patience sat on thin ice as she placed her hands on her hips.
"—And for another, I can't just let a woman watch me get dressed or, even worse, undressed!"
Prussia also placed his hands on his hips, finding his sister's suggestions so very provocative and unbecoming. They stared each other down for a few moments, testing to see who would surrender and admit their mistake first. Frankly, Germany had grown sick and tired of being babied like this by her brother, and she wasn't about to back down so easily.
"Bruder…" she began softly before raising the tone and weight of her voice, "Ich. Bin. Dein Bruder." She made her voice so full that her insistence seemed to echo throughout Prussia's bedroom from behind him. Her hands suddenly reached for his shoulders, gripping them urgently. "Stop treating me like your sister or your cousin or any other female-role you could think of—I am still your brother, Ludwig!"
He stared back at her coldly, seemingly unfazed by her dogged actions. "Enough with this silly overly-protective big brother stuff already! You know I can do fine on my own!" It almost sounded like she was pleading with him—she was clearly fed up with his antics. Enough was enough.
Germany stood there, still gripping onto his shoulders. She noticed how Prussia's demeanor had become cold and solid, staring her down with a familiar intensity that could sometimes make her shrink back in defeat, and she was getting to that point if she chose to keep his stare for another while longer. He then slowly placed his hands on hers, lifting her hands away from his shoulders and back to her sides. When Prussia retreated back into his bedroom, disappearing for a moment, Germany was left standing in her spot, feeling slightly defeated and ready to surrender. After the sounds of some rummaging, he emerged another moment later and caught his sister by surprise when he leaned over her and caused a scratching sensation along her scalp.
"Wh-What the hell, Bruder!" she yelled in confusion and irritation. Whatever it was he was doing to her scalp, he wasn't being very gentle about it. After half a minute of uncomfortable scratching and scraping, Prussia finally pulled back with a satisfied look on his face.
"There…" he mumbled. Germany shot him a look of utter bewilderment, unsure of what the purpose of his sudden actions were, until she felt her forehead free from the itch of her blonde fringe. Her hands reached up to feel what he had done to her hair, only to realize that he had slicked it back with a comb to resemble her usual old hairstyle.
"Now you're my brother," he cheerfully concluded before gesturing his welcome with his head. "Come inside and bask in my awesomeness, my spoiled baby brother."
She growled a little, but was nonetheless satisfied that her brother had finally decided to let her in after such silly propositions. With a very hesitant sigh, she stepped forth into the abyss of treachery that made up her brother's man cavern. Upon taking her first step, however, she was surprised she hadn't been assaulted by the gut-wrenching stench of month-old foods or unwashed laundry. Then again, she had cleaned his room just a month ago, but Prussia was more than capable of recreating havoc in less than an hour. While she diffidently approached his slightly mussed-up bed and cautiously took a seat on the ruffled bed sheets, afraid that something may just emerge from underneath and swallow her alive, Prussia proceeded to his extravagantly large walk-in closet, disappearing completely behind its shelves of clothes, shoes, and other weird items. Sometimes she wondered who was the more grandiose of the two: Austria or her brother.
"So what are we talking about?" he yelled from within the closet.
Germany was very reluctant about her topic choice, but she really felt she needed to consult with her elder brother's wisdom, as well. He was the one who kindly offered in the first place, anyway. Some results were better than others, but she knew she could always depend on her brother's experience and expertise, regardless of what subject area it was.
"Bruder," she started off hesitantly. "Between me and…" She swallowed before continuing. "Between me and Italy…who do you think is right?"
At first, she was met with silence, but soon enough Prussia's head popped out from the walk-in closet to meet with Germany's stare. He had a comically skeptical countenance painted all over his face and looked as if he could barely hold back an enormous bout of laughter. "I think the two of you are both crazy and stupid."
She shot him an incredulous glare in response to his abhorrent answer. "That's very enlightening—why hadn't I considered this possibility long ago?" she responded sarcastically.
Prussia simply shrugged, walking out of his closet while buttoning his jacket on the way. "That just how I see it—I think love is a crazy and stupid thing. Why do you think I've stayed alone all these years? And clearly, that's how the two of you are acting right now."
She was only all the more frustrated with his response. She's starting to believe that maybe coming to him with such a topic was too much of a stretch of faith. "Then tell me, oh wise one, what it is that makes us crazy and stupid."
He stopped buttoning his military jacket for a second, shooting an incredulous look at her direction. "Why can't you just believe that the fool loves you? …Okay, you're free not to believe him, but why'd you have to punch him in the face for that?"
"So you're saying I'm at fault for all of this?" she retorted much more sternly than she intended to.
"No, that's not exactly what I'm trying to say," he responded as he walked over to his dresser to pull out some cuff links, pins, and a small silver revolver. "But I will mention that you've missed some factors leading up to your conclusion."
"What conclusion?" she asked him, her features creasing in befuddlement.
After neatly placing all his pins and cuff links in place and carefully slipping his revolver into a holster beneath his jacket, he turned from his dresser to face her with a sly grin on his face. "I know what you're thinking—you think that Italy has the hots for you just because you're a chick right now—"
She averted her gaze to another direction, the rising embarrassment preventing her from looking him in the eye as he continued with his assumptions. "—And you're afraid and so extremely offended that he might be so shallow as to actually dump you once you grow your penis back."
"You know there are better ways of rewording your theories," she huffed. Prussia shrugged, uncaring to her subtle suggestions of less vulgar use of language.
"Cutting to the chase, have you not considered why it must be that Italy had only begun acting this way when you grew boobs?"
"Are you saying it wasn't because I grew boobs?" she countered with slight cynicism and much doubt.
"That's an incomplete reason," he replied with a quipping finger. "Think about it—Italy has always been most comfortable and most confident around women, right?"
"Yeah…and?"
"And what of Ludwig? Big, strong, macho Ludwig, who could run down enemy nations with his bare fists? Do you really think Italy would want to get lovey-dovey with someone who looks like he could eat you alive and whole?"
Despite his reasoning, she rolled her eyes around in subtle offense to his descriptions of her. "…You could have been a little nicer with your theories."
"Oh, boo hoo. Suck it up—it's just the truth," he scoffed.
"How do you even know if he had even loved me before all this?" she pressed him, disregarding his immature derisions. "Why is it that during that one time when I actually showed him affection, he never bothered returning it the same way like he would now?"
"Because!" he immediately responded, rummaging in his closet once more for a good pair of boots. "Your approach that time was so aloof that he didn't even realize you were conveying those kinds of feelings to him!" Germany's brow scrunched in revelation of her past mistakes. Countless all-nighters she had to put up with just to follow according to that damn manual, and it led her nowhere. "He actually thought you were just extremely angry with him—that's how bad you were," he added with a taunting chuckle. "Of course, after that night, he must have been pretty afraid to try again or try at all, even. Your turning into a woman must have been one of the greatest miracles in his life—not because you grew boobs, but because it had become that much easier for him to try his hand again at expressing his love for you. Or maybe this could possibly even be his first ever attempt at expressing such feelings for you." He emerged once more from his closet, this time fully dressed and complete in his boots and his Prussian-blue trench coat, ready and set to go. He had walked out only to be met with his sister's wide and blue eyes, her expression reading that of utter amazement towards his surprisingly extended knowledge over the subject matter, but she turned away in embarrassment that she hadn't been able to come up with these reasons herself.
"How could you possibly figure these things out better than I can?" she asked him in amazement and frustration with herself.
"Because love is a battlefield, dear sister," he sighed distantly. "Just as with any other battle, you have to be aware, you have to be prepared, and you have to stay ahead of the game. It's all in a similar mindset—I'm sure if you gave it a little more time, you could've figured it out yourself eventually. But it's much better that I figured it out for you now, don't you think so?" He cocked his head arrogantly, popping his collar with emphasis. "You are definitely no expert in love…and neither am I," he admitted much more humbly than his actions reflect as he took a seat beside Germany on his bed. "But consider this: right now you're out there on the field fighting off all this crap coming your way, but meanwhile I'm standing up here," he motioned his hands to level above his forehead, "high upon a cliff with a three-sixty degree view of everything around me, including that tiny speck of you struggling down there. For me, these things are just that much easier to discern than it is for you."
With very little warning, he reached out a hand to ruffle his sister's slicked hair back into its messy, feminine crops. "I'd seem far away while you're down there fighting, but if you come back to me alive, I'd be the greatest advantage you'd ever have in the battlefield—I've seen everything that the enemy has to hammer us with. If you want that upper hand, you have to come back to me alive." He gently and affectionately patted her blonde matte of hair, a truly cheerful grin stretched across his face. "And I'm certainly glad you came back to me after all that crap you've gone through."
Now this was the kind of language Germany could easily comprehend, and with it, Prussia was successfully able to draw out even more of her confidence. "Now that I've told you what I know and what I've observed, have you been given enough insight, baby Schwester?"
While he sat beside her, she looked at him with a curious and slightly mischievous squint of her pretty blue eyes. That uncharacteristic look in her face struck Prussia with slight surprise and curiosity as to what it was she could be thinking. "Was?"
"Bruder, who was your first love?"
Initially, she was met with a wide and blank stare from his crimson eyes, either indicating a lack of response or utter confusion. In no time, however, she received an enormous and haughty cackle that almost seemed to be laced with a hint of anxiety.
"Ahaha! Aha… 'first love,' ah…You're funny, West…" he laughed his heart out, wiping away a stray tear as he abruptly stood.
Germany raised a scrutinizing eyebrow at his odd response to her question. "…I was being serious, Bruder."
He simply scoffed. "Psh. 'First love,' you say," he mumbled under his breath. "I'm a man of God and a man of duty, West. I have no business in fooling around with women or otherwise," he responded arrogantly and insistently.
Prussia hadn't managed to catch the way Germany rolled her eyes at his usual reaction on the subject of his love life—such a conversation wasn't exactly new between them, but she was always willing to give it another shot to figure out her brother's secret life.
"So then…" Prussia continued, effectively catching Germany's attention one more time. "Is that all you need to talk about?" he asked her. The tone of his voice was a little ambiguous—Germany was unsure whether Prussia wanted to have her out of his presence already or keep her in for a while longer for any reason. "There's…" He awkwardly cleared his throat as if he were trying to hold back a sudden outburst. "…nothing else you'd like to, y'know…discuss?" Germany noticed how his fingers by his side began this cycle of curling into a fist and then uncurling. A recognizable bloodlust filled the air.
It became clear to her that Prussia wanted to know if she was still being mentally and emotionally tormented by France's previous assaults. He must have needed even more of an incentive or some sort of approval to pummel the culprit to death with his bare hands. Just as Italy did not like seeing her so agitated and bloodthirsty, it didn't please her to see her brother so murderous and vengeful.
She looked up at him with a sincere and slightly melancholy smile along her cheeks as she shook her head softly. "Don't worry about me."
She didn't receive much of a response. On his face was a look of doubt with some remnants of wrath still in place. "Believe me, I have other issues I'd much rather take care of right now," she reassured him. "France can wait."
There was a minute of silence between them. Prussia's eyes drifted to a close while he dragged out a sigh of acceptance. "If you say so…"
"By the way," she spoke out, effectively grabbing his attention. "If you haven't figured it out yet, England is the one responsible for all…this." She emphasized the information by bringing her hands beneath her large breasts and slightly bouncing them, successfully reddening Prussia's cheeks to a nice cherry hue.
"Erm—t-that information is new, but I'm not all that surprised, actually."
"Just letting you know what we'll have to deal with at some point.
"Oh, I know we have a lot to deal with," he responded with a low snarl.
While crimson eyes gazed unfocusedly at some random direction with much murderous intent, Germany began eyeing his outfit up and down in a delayed recognition that her brother was just about to head out somewhere—with a gun on his person, to mention the least. "And just where are you heading, exactly?" she demanded of him like an overprotective mother, which paled in comparison to Prussia's overprotective nature.
"Huh?" At first, he responded with a look of confusion before he looked at his outfit in realization. "Oh! Right…Well, now that our discussion is over and done, I was planning on telling you—I'll be heading out for an overseas conference. I don't know how long I'll be away, but plan on a few days of me not being around or anything."
"Wha—wait, why haven't I been told about this?" she asked in flabbergast, slightly offended that she had not been informed.
"Uhh, well, you obviously aren't allowed to attend. Duh," he reminded her, placing his fists on his hips.
She growled at him. "Even then, it'd be nice if you told me about these things beforehand, so that I'm up to date with information. What is it about anyway? Where will it be held? And if you knew you were going to be gone for more than one day, why haven't you packed any extra clothing?"
"Jesus Christ, calm your balls down, sister!" he retorted. "By golly, you and your load of questions—it doesn't seem to end sometimes!"
"Just give me an answer, will you?" she demanded of him with much annoyance.
"Yeah, yeah…Well, we're gathering at an undisclosed location near Morocco. The higher-ups have already booked me a flight and I've had my stuff packed the other day while you were locked up, so I'm way ahead of you," he added a wave of the hand in reassurance, "and don't ask me what it's about, because I honestly don't have a clue—we weren't given any information on the purpose of this conference. They won't even disclose the location to me until my plane touches down on Africa, so that's as much as I can tell you until I get back home."
The fact that no purpose had been given for this particular conference struck Germany with much curiosity and suspicion. However, it was definitely not something new and too unusual, so she let it slide. "Bottom line," Prussia continued, "I'll be gone a few days, so…"
He then approached her and leaned over, catching her by surprise as she backed away a little, unsure of what to expect from his movements. "Make note of what I'm about to do, because I'm only gonna do this once, maybe twice, in your entire lifetime," he sternly ordered her. What subsequently followed was, not only beyond Germany's comprehension, but also completely beyond her expectations. Prussia leaned over and placed his hand behind her head, so that he could bring her in closer and place a light kiss on her forehead. Germany was struck with so much shock that she was unable to speak for a few moments, but the bright-red hue on her cheeks displayed much of her reaction towards her brother's uncharacteristic affection. What made her blush a little more is the memory of her making the same action on her brother, except he was already fast asleep at the time.
Prussia let go of her head, so that she could look up and look him straight in the eye as he continued speaking, "Take that as a hint, baby Schwester. I won't be here to protect you for a few days, so you better take care of yourself."
It took her quite some time to recompose herself, the shock of Prussia's sudden affection hindering her ability to respond properly. She shook her head violently, trying to shake off the redness of her cheeks. "I-Idiot! Of course I know that much! I told you to stop babying me already!"
"Haha!" he laughed haughtily, which only further angered his little sister. "You're the baby of the house, remember? So long as I'm your big brother, as if I'm ever gonna stop babying you…"
With an angered and determined look in her eyes, she attempted to huff out fire through her nose as a form of intimidation, but to no avail—she is still human, even though of the opposite gender. Her eyes cast down in a fit of bashfulness as she mumbled under her breath, "Just come home safely, m'kay?"
Prussia snorted, feeling obliged to affectionately ruffle her hair once more. "Of course I know that much," he softly responded with a small grin, slightly mocking her in the process. "By the way, West…"
She looked up at him when he appealed for her attention, only to be met with a very canny smirk along his cheeks. "I'll make sure I come home with a special surprise just for you, okay? So you better be excited, you got that?"
Her brow scrunched in total confusion, but just as she had with his past displays of weird and suspicious behavior, she slowly nodded her head, providing him the satisfactory response he needed from her. "Is it safe to say that I'm a little wary about this?" she asked him cautiously. For all she knew, he could be planning on bringing home something absurd and bizarre…like an orangutan or a camel or a boxful of fried tarantulas on skewers for the two of them to snack on…all those seemed very likely to her.
He pursed his lips for a moment in thought before nodding rapidly in agreement. "Hmm…yeah, I guess it might shock you a little. But trust me! You'll be extremely happy I was awesome enough to even do it for you."
She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Alright, alright, I'll look forward to it," she humored him.
After getting a satisfying response from her, he pulled away with a grin and headed towards his bedroom door. On his way out, he looked over his shoulder and cast a vigilant look her direction. "Don't get too riled up while I'm away, okay?" With that, he made his way through his towering doors and out his bedroom, leaving behind his slightly confused and still slightly amazed little sister sitting on his bed all alone. She looked over her shoulder, her gaze still lingering on the slightly ajar door. With a heavy sigh, she leaned back on both hands, looking up wistfully at the darkened ceiling above her. The sun was just setting from her brother's bedroom window in front of her and it left behind the last few remnants of sunlight dancing across the ceiling and the walls.
"With all that I'm going to have to deal with, I can't guarantee that much, Bruder," she mumbled to herself, planning out the proper course of action to take while he was gone and out of her way.
A/N: fastest update i've made in a while, i'd have to say :3 chapter title = "Chat" and a lot of chatting there was in this chapter. not to mention the most random shoutout to Pat Benatar XP
soooo what i tried to do here is to have Germany consult two separate views on her current problems. Japan helped her figure out what her own problems were while Prussia helped her figure out what Italy's problem with her was, so they both really helped her out on this. i wanted to play with Prussia a little, give him a really surprising and interesting view on love. it's obviously nothing new since Pat Benatar sang a whole song about it lol. the idea actually came before the song—as i was writing up his battlefield dialogue, i started singing "Love is a Battlefield" and i thought "oh hey~ what a great cameo" :P i have no say on whether or not Prussia had a first love. i will mention that i am a slight PruxHun closet fan—i ship them occasionally, so that's a possibility in my book haha~
well, in addition, just a random thought: playing right now on my sister's iPod is "If Your Heart's Not In It" by Westlife. search up the lyrics and agree with me that this is the song Germany should be singing to Italy by his balcony right now XD /corny (omg you guys, i love singing that song, myself :P)
fyi after this chapter, we'll be getting to the really good stuff here, folks. and i mean the REALLY good stuff 8D *snickers* so hold onto your saddle~!
