Chapter Thirty-Five: After Image

Japan entered the house, swinging groceries in his hands. He took off the scarf from around his neck, setting the bags on the counter. Prussia stared at him from across the room, and Sealand was amusing himself with a small ball.

"I'm home," Japan said quietly, and no one answered him. He sighed and began putting the groceries away. Prussia kept on gazing blankly.

"So glad you're home," Russia greeted, coming into the kitchen, "We all missed you terribly. Especially me. What's for dinner, mother?"

"Shut up," Japan muttered, and Russia left, giggling.

This was nothing like his days as an Axis. At least then…it was almost like a semblance of family…

"I'm home!" Japan called out, and Germany barely looked up from his paperwork.

"Hello," he answered absently. "What's for dinner?"

Japan decided to not bring to attention that he had been fixing dinner for the past week, and his and Italy's turns were long overdue. He was too polite to say such a thing.

"Um…rice again, I suppose…?"

Germany shrugged and bent over his work. War took many, many, papers.

Italy entered the kitchen like a wrecking ball, careening straight into Japan. His arms wrapped tightly around his middle, still warm from his sleep.

"Ciao! Where were you? It took forever! Can I help with dinner?"

Japan threw the affectionate Italian off him with an effort, placing the last can in the pantry. Italy beamed and scooped up the now empty canvas bags, skipping off to place them over the hooks in the other room.

He came back soon after, sitting cross-legged on the wooden floor. Japan swept back his hair and rolled up his sleeves, setting to work on boiling rice.

"Why didn't you ask me to come with you?" Italy complained lightly, standing up and rummaging through the cupboards in a quest for food, "I really wanted to go with you…."

"You were asleep," Japan said crisply. He added some salt to the rice.

"Oh yeah! My siesta!" Italy exclaimed, pulling back his hand as Japan smacked at it with a spoon, "I like taking naps in the middle of the day! So does Spain! You should try it sometime—"

"I am not getting any younger," Russia remarked, and Japan jumped. The rice he was fixing was bubbling over the pot and smelled burnt. He hastily grabbed a spoon and stirred it.

"What were you doing anyway?" Russia questioned. "You looked as though you weren't there."

"I am fine," Japan said sharply. "Thank you for your concern—ow!"

A few drops of hot water had splashed onto his hand, leaving a red raw mark. Japan dropped the utensil and clutched his hand in pain.

"What's wrong?" Prussia asked boredly. Russia bent down swiftly and took hold of Japan's hand.

"It is not so bad," Japan snapped, trying to pull his hand away unsuccessfully, "Burns heal…"

Russia grabbed a rag from the counter and soaked it in cold water, wringing it out and wrapping it around his hand. Japan hissed through his teeth at the contact.

"Leave it alone," Japan said, and Russia ignored him and led him into the bathroom, taking a bandage from the cabinet. He placed it over Japan's hand…

"Ow!" Italy shrieked, and he snatched his hand back from the pot. Japan turned to see Italy clutching his hand to his chest, little tears beginning to form in the cornerof his hazel eyes.

"Let me see!" Japan said, grabbing his hand in his own. Italy sniffed, trying to hold back.

"O-ow…it huuuuuurts…"

"You burnt yourself!" Japan said sternly. He dragged him over to the bathroom. "Sit. I'll get a bandage."

Italy sat on the toilet, still sniffling and holding his hand. Japan came over and began to carefully wrap the gauze over it.

"There. Feel better?"

"Y-yes…"

Italy flushed, moving his hand back. "It feels fine now. Thank you."

Japan cleared his throat. "Ah…you are welcome. Be more careful next time please…."

"…more careful next time," Russia was saying. "Are you listening at all? You're doing it again…"

"I'm fine!" Japan said, and he yanked himself away. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he took a deep breath. Russia actually gave a little frown and got up, putting the bandage back in the cabinet.

"Are you dreaming or something? Or dying? Would be good news, but still—"

"Just shut it," Japan muttered, and he shoved past him on his way out.

He went outside, shutting the paper screen door hard behind him. The sky was a fire-orange as the sun set, and a chill wind ruffled his hair. He sat down silently, breathing in the air of his garden nearby. Cherry blossom trees were swaying in the breeze, and his thoughts wandered again…

He was sitting on the grass, the sun giving everything an aurora. An auburn-haired man poked his head around the edge of the trees, face a glowing pink.

"Kiku!" he cried out, and he collapsed next to him on the grass, laughing. Japan could feel himself begin to smile. Italy propped himself up on his elbows and lazily traced circles in the green grass. He pulled something from his pocket and dropped it on Japan's lap.

"What is this?" Japan asked slowly, and Italy's smile could've shattered the sun in its brilliance.

"Daisies! They're dried daisies! And blossoms! You like flowers, yes? The daisies are old, I dried them before I came here on the ship, but you can have them!"

Japan could only understand a little of what Italy was saying, and he realized he was speaking a hashed mixture of Japanese and Italian. Something was off…he looked down at the flowers.

"Can I draw you?" Italy asked, pulling out a paper and charcoal pencil. Japan stared at him, not comprehending what he wanted. What was wrong with him? Since when had he not understood Italian…? Or any language in the world for that matter?

Italy pushed at his shoulder a little, showing him the pencil and paper. He suddenly understood what he wished and nodded to appease him, lying back on the grass.

Italy's warm hands took the flowers gently from him, arranging them all around his head. Japan watched curiously as Italy began to sketch, fingers quick and experienced.

"Close your eyes," Italy laughed. "I can't draw when you are staring at me like that!"

Japan obeyed, settling into the flower bed with his eyes shut. He didn't understand almost anything of what Italy was chattering to him as he drew, but it interested him anyway. He had never seen people such as this before. Tanned and tall, with eyes that shone like blue skies and gold. His eyes were strange and round, but he was always smiling. Japan decided he could forgive his social ineptness for the moment…after all, he was a guest…

And it suddenly all clicked in his mind…

"Are you awake?"

Japan groaned, feeling the images fade away. His cheek was on a cold surface, and he made a little noise of discontent as he realized he was very much in the present.

"L-leave me be…"

"You fell asleep on the porch," Russia told him. "Are you sick?"

Japan was dimly aware of Russia sitting next to him, taking off his Soviet jacket and draping it over him.

"Tell me what is the matter," Russia said. "Do we need to cancel tomorrow? What is wrong with you?"

"Why do…you care?" Japan mumbled, and he closed his eyes again, ignoring Russia's frustrated sigh. He felt a twinge of pleasure as Russia got up and left, leaving him out on the porch.

Japan let his eyelids close, and he allowed himself to slip back into sleep.