Thanks to Yaoi-Is-Life-and-Love, Cat on the table and Praise's Waterfall for reviewing.
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.
Chapter 57
It was Thursday afternoon and Lovino was in the living room with Feliciano and Marcello, watching a movie while doing their homework. Lovino bore a slight resemblance to Rudolph, and he was still impersonating a panda, but he was feeling better. And he was (hopefully) no longer contagious.
He had to pause for a moment as a sneezing fit hit him, and when that was done he grabbed a tissue from the box on the table.
"Are you okay?" Marcello asked.
Lovino nodded as he tossed the used tissue in the wastebasket next to him.
"Ve, do you think you'll be okay on Saturday?" Feliciano asked.
"Ask me again tomorrow," Lovino replied.
They'd been keeping in touch with both circles of friends, and it was decided that whether or not they would all go to the concert depended on Lovino's health. Still, Feliciano would go to support Roderich, so at least he wouldn't be letting his friend down.
Lovino sighed in relief when he finally managed to finish the essay that he had been working on. Feliks had given him all of the week's homework on Tuesday. Apparently, the teachers thought that this was better. He was given enough time, and there was a possibility that he might have been one or two periods ahead.
Just because it was planned didn't always mean that it worked out like that. And depending on the class and their mood, lesson plans weren't going to go as smoothly as the teachers hoped.
He also couldn't help but wonder how things had gone for Yao. He wasn't there to be his CS partner earlier in the day. He wondered if he fell in with one of the other pairs, or if one of the groups that worked as a trio decided to allow one of their members to work with Yao.
And now he couldn't help but wonder how things had been for Yao before he transferred.
He felt the taste of orange returning, and he immediately took a bite from the strawberry yogurt. The antibiotics given to him were not what he would recommend. It slightly felt as though his tongue went numb, and there was an aftertaste of orange. He didn't even like oranges. And he just couldn't get rid of it.
"Are you boys finished?" Romulus asked, entering the room and looking over the three of them.
"Almost," Feliciano replied.
"Is there a specific reason why you're asking that of us now?" Lovino asked.
"Si," Romulus replied. "I have to go back to the gallery for a meeting. We need to come up with a new fundraiser. Feli, can I trust you with dinner?"
"Of course!" Feliciano chirped.
"Okay, don't forget. I'm going in about ten minutes. Make sure everything is locked and don't open for anyone."
Lovino rolled his eyes, though a faint smile was playing on his lips. It would seem that his father removed the first digit from their ages. Still, his concern was touching.
"Don't worry," Marcello said. "We won't."
Romulus smiled and darted out of the room. Ten minutes later he bid them goodbye, and when the door closed behind him it was silent among the three brothers.
"Just tell me when you want me to start on dinner," Feliciano said.
"I think you can start in twenty minutes," Lovino said, eyes fixed on the wall clock close to the TV.
"Would you like some help?" Marcello asked.
"Don't worry," Feliciano said. "But ideas would be great."
"We already know that it's going to be pasta," Lovino sighed. "I'm okay with it. Just don't pick something too rich."
Lovino had stopped vomiting, but there was still the lingering feeling of nausea. He didn't want to take any chances.
"I understand," Feliciano said. "So, a simple pasta. What about spaghetti and meatballs?"
Lovino thought about it for a moment, imagining the taste, and then imagining how his stomach might feel about it, and nodded his head.
"That sounds okay," he said.
Feliciano smiled.
…
Lovino's day at the moment was divided into four categories: sleeping, reading, homework, and writing. He was actually enjoying the last one very much. He never really considered himself to be a writer, but it was actually pretty liberating. He could share all of the horrible things done to him and hide behind the pages. He didn't have to admit that these were the things done to him.
He also checked on quite a few writing websites for tips. The most important one of all was simply to write. And that was what he did. He didn't care about it being a masterpiece or something. He didn't even care if other people actually read the novel that he was writing. All he cared about was getting everything on the pages.
He was also forced to think about his bullies, and their reasons for doing what they did to him. All of his characters needed to be fleshed out and realistic. And that included the characters based on them. So even if it was painful for him, he needed to come up with valid reasons why their characters would torture his main character. A series of misunderstandings, perhaps, and perhaps the character not handling trauma very well.
For all he knew, that might have been the reality.
Another of the tips he read was that he would need to continue to read as many books as he could. To write, one must enjoy reading. It also gave you a subconscious framework on how to write your own books. And especially newer novels should give an idea on the writing style.
He already knew that there was no way that the casual modern reader would appreciate something like Lovecraft or Poe. Vastly different eras, and vastly different writing styles. And he wasn't even going to try with Shakespeare's style.
He actually needed to get a few more books that were recently published. It was embarrassing that he had so little by modern authors. He'd always enjoyed the classics because they reflected the eras they were written in. They revealed ways in which society had changed, and the ways in which they remained the same. That was what made them classics, after all.
The reason why he wanted to leave the house the most was because he wanted to go to the bookstore. He wanted to see if there was anything that would interest him among the newer novels.
He already checked a few of the websites, but it wasn't as helpful as he hoped it would have been.
He wanted to hold the book. To judge it in person. He didn't want to see what other people had to say about it, he wanted to hold the book himself and read the description, and base his decision on the description. He also felt the need to go to the bookstore and buy one of those 'gift' books. The last time he did so, he found the book to be highly enjoyable.
And still, he couldn't help but fantasise. He wondered if the novel he was writing would be coveted like that one day. He wondered if he would be able to show a child or teenager being bullied or suffering from depression that it wouldn't always be like that. That there were healthy ways to seek comfort. That out there would be someone that could help. Even if it ultimately wasn't true, he wanted them to have hope. It was the hope that he'd gained since meeting Feliks that helped him, after all.
Somehow, the thought that his novel might one day help someone like him gave him the motivation to continue writing, even more than the relief it gave him.
For the first time in his life, he started giving serious thought to what he wanted to do in the future. He knew that it would be difficult, but literature had always brought him joy. So, perhaps, he should accept it as his calling. And if he could give someone else the joy that he experienced through reading…
Well, he couldn't think of a nobler profession.
…
Feliks winced as Lovino butchered his language. He tried to give Lovino simple sentences, but it took a few tries for him to say them correctly, and it took him a while to pronounce each word correctly. He remembered how it was when he learned English, and he gained a newfound respect for his teachers.
Lovino groaned when Feliks corrected him yet again, and he shook his head.
"It's hopeless," he said. "I'm never going to get this right."
"Hey, like, just give it some time, okay?" Feliks attempted to reassure. "Look, why don't you look at it like this: How long would you say did it take you to learn Italian?"
"It's my parents' native language. I've been speaking it since I was born."
"And how long would you say it was before you could totally discuss something like a book with someone in Italian?"
Lovino frowned.
"You mean, how long did it take me to have the skill, or someone to talk to?" he asked.
Feliks felt a twitch in his throat. He didn't want Lovino to have to think of something so painful.
"Like, skill," he replied.
Lovino was silent for a moment, before he sighed.
"I guess I see your point," he said. "There has to be an easier way to do it."
"Um, like, if you want, I have some Disney DVDs at home," Feliks said. "Dubbed in Polish. If you want, I could like let you borrow them."
Lovino scrunched up his nose. Feliks had to release his laughter when he saw that. It would seem as though he didn't like the idea of having to watch Disney movies for homework.
"Fine," Lovino sighed. "I guess I can do that…"
Feliks beamed.
"Like, I'll bring them to you tomorrow," he said. "Sound okay?"
"And if we're going to the concert tomorrow?" Lovino asked.
"Like, are you sure you'll be able to go?"
Lovino shrugged, before averting his gaze.
"Truth be told, I miss everyone," he said. "Not that I'm complaining about you being my only visitor. It's just… It feels kind of lonely."
Feliks nodded in understanding. He'd grown accustomed to having the others around as well, and the fact that he wasn't excluded due to Lovino's absence only made him appreciate them more. They were also pretty lonely without Lovino. Feliks took it as a sign that they were all meant to be friends.
He was tempted to reveal to Lovino the surprise they thought up, but he didn't want to spoil it. He didn't want any of them to feel disappointed that the surprise had failed.
…
Lovino had just finished combing his hair when someone knocked on his bedroom door. He turned around as Marcello poked his head in.
"Vino, there's a surprise for you," Marcello sang.
Lovino frowned as he tried to think of any reason whatsoever why there would be a 'surprise' for him. But when Marcello widened the door and revealed six familiar figures, he couldn't catch his jaw from dropping in time.
"W-what are you guys doing here?" he demanded.
"We wanted to see you," Vlad replied. "Is that so wrong?"
"B-but… when did you even decide this?"
"Thursday," Miguel replied. "We had Feliks check with your dad."
Lovino turned his attention to Feliks.
"And… why didn't you tell me anything about this?" he demanded.
"Like, we wanted it to be a surprise," Feliks said. "Even though I totally wanted to tell you about this."
"It's a good thing you didn't," Vlad said. "Vino's face is priceless right now."
Lovino looked around at them all, before his face softened into a smile.
"You guys…" he muttered. "Grazie."
They all took it as their cue to make themselves comfortable. Gupta had brought some CDs that he wanted Lovino to listen to, and Yao had brought along more fortune cookies. Lovino was actually a bit disappointed when Yao revealed that he didn't write any messages this time.
"I didn't think you'd want them," Yao said sheepishly. "I figured you'd be tired of being babied by now."
"They're still nice to read," Lovino pouted.
"Okay, then I'll make sure to write new messages for you."
"Um, Lovino?" Heracles said, looking at something on the desk. "What's this?"
Lovino turned towards the desk and felt himself pale. He quickly grabbed the notebook and held it against his chest.
"D-don't look," he begged.
"Is it a diary or something?" Gupta asked.
Lovino shook his head.
"And now I'm curious," Miguel said. "Hey, isn't that the notebook you were writing in class?"
Lovino bit his lip, hugging the book closer.
"We're just curious," Vlad said. "Just tell us what it is, and we won't pry any further. Please?"
Lovino looked at all of their faces, before he sighed.
"I… decided to write a novel," he admitted.
"Seriously?" Yao asked, eyes widening.
"And I'm going to guess that you're not ready yet for anyone to see it," Gupta said. "Correct?"
Lovino nodded his head. Vlad grinned.
"Well, I think it's a good thing," he said. "As long as you're having fun. Hopefully you'll let us read it when it's finished."
"But just focus on finishing it first," Gupta said. "You don't have to tell us what it's about, but if you'd like some help, feel free."
Lovino smiled and nodded his head. He had no doubt that they'd be willing and able to help him with the story. He was also glad that they weren't demanding him to tell them what it was about.
"I just have one question," Heracles said. "Why are you writing and not typing? I mean, wouldn't it be faster to type?"
"Si," Lovino said. "But this way, I can work on it at school. And it's just for the first draft."
Everyone agreed that it was a valid reason.
…
When the Vargas brothers were younger, their parents decided to buy a minivan in order to take the children and their friends to different destinations for different occasions. And when Lovino informed them that he felt well enough to go to that concert, they all piled inside and went off. The minivan currently had enough room, though it might be a different matter once Feliciano's and Marcello's friends – who were also invited – joined them.
Lovino was a bit upset that he had to wear a sweater and scarf, but he had to admit that the point of preventing a relapse was pretty valid.
As soon as they arrived Marcello went off to join his own friends. The others stuck close to Feliciano, since none of them even knew who they were supposed to be looking for. Except for Lovino, of course, but he wasn't confident enough to approach any of Feliciano's friends on his own.
It wasn't long before Feliciano bounced off towards a trio of dark-haired teens. He threw his arms around one of them, effectively alerting them all of his arrival.
"Ciao," Feliciano greeted.
Lovino quickly scanned the three boys. He was at least familiar with Kiku, and could be at least a little relaxed. He also recognised Roderich, who would obviously have been here, since he was the one performing in the concert. And the one that Feliciano was clinging to was Dimitri. And probably the only one that wasn't particularly uncomfortable with Feliciano clinging to him.
"Ah, you're here," Roderich said, before he turned to the other teens behind Feliciano. He immediately focused on Lovino. "It's nice to see you again, Lovino. Are you better? Feliciano said that you were sick."
"S-si," Lovino stammered. "Thank you for your concern."
Introductions were made, and they started to engage in small talk, at least until Roderich had to go set up with the other members of the orchestra. The others took it as their cue to find seats. They found seats along the aisle and took up three rows. Lovino, Feliks, Miguel and Vlad sat in front, Gupta, Heracles and Yao in the back, and Feliciano and his remaining two friends sat in the middle.
"I still find it weird that we're more or less from the same region," Dimitri said, addressing Feliks and Vlad.
"Da," Vlad agreed. "It's weird."
"Maybe not that weird," Heracles said. "After all, everyone's closer connected than you might think."
"No kidding," Yao said. "You know, I think I might have had a classmate in kindergarten named Kiku."
"Really?" Kiku asked, turning to regard Yao. "Well, where did you go?"
Lovino couldn't help but chuckle when Kiku and Yao realised that they were in fact alumni of the same kindergarten. And Heracles's satisfied expression absolutely sold him on that idea.
That actually made him think a bit about it. He turned to Miguel, who appeared to have been thinking of the same thing. What were the odds of going to school with the cousin of someone who had bullied you in another school in another town? And what were the odds of the two of them becoming friends?
Lovino also wondered if he could add the whole 'everyone being closer connected than thought' in his novel. Perhaps he should read up on it. Knowing Heracles's love of philosophy, perhaps there would be something related to that.
They had to wait a bit while the instruments were being set up, and Lovino could truly say that he now had a good definition for 'cacophonic'. At least the performance itself was a lot better, and Lovino found himself dancing along in his seat at one point. At least he wasn't the only one.
Afterwards, Romulus took them all to Mario's Pizzeria. It was actually strange to be there with other people. Everyone also turned to him when the waitress asked him if he wanted his usual order, and even welcomed him back.
Mario was the one that brought Lovino's order, and Lovino was surprised when the man ruffled his hair.
"Welcome back," Mario said. "Glad to see you're doing better."
Lovino blushed and smiled. It's been more than two months since he came by. And his situation had definitely changed since the last time. And he could tell that Mario was happy to see that.
Whenever I had pneumonia or related illnesses, I usually had these awful antibiotics. They made the mouth go numb and had this banana aftertaste. And the worse part was, it stuck. You had to wait twenty-four hours after the last dose to finally be rid of it. My mom couldn't understand why I protested vehemently whenever I was prescribed this antibiotic. And then she got it too. I was laughing hard for several minutes when she texted me to tell me that she understood my point now. And the orange aftertaste that Lovino has in this chapter is because I can't eat oranges, or any citrus fruit, really. I have a slight allergy, and trust me, it's not fun if your throat starts itching on the inside. Guavas are the worst, though. Bye-bye breathing capabilities.
As the daughter of a teacher, I sometimes had access to confidential materials such as lesson plans. And I could easily see that, yes, we were almost never on schedule. And it's all because the classes were too rowdy. To give an example: In seventh grade I decided to continue working on maths while my classmates decided to return to the Stone Age. I managed to be months ahead of them, and I actually started the textbook from the beginning again. And it was just what was done in class. I didn't bother doing math at home until I graduated to eighth grade. My teachers were actually okay with me working ahead, since they knew that I was quiet and that I read a lot to make sure I understand. I also had a novel perched on my lap in several classes, and the only time the teacher would address it was to ask what it was about. It helps being the quiet kid.
I know that Bargain Books has this thing where they wrap a book in brown paper and only put a description of the story. You don't know who wrote it, and you can't be misled by the cover.
My sister and I have different opinions when it comes to choosing books. My sister likes to read ratings and reviews, while I like to focus on description and plot. It's one of the reasons why I would much rather go to a bookstore myself, while my sister has accounts on four different websites where she orders books.
One of the theories I have regarding language acquisition is to try to learn the language in the same way you learned your native language. So, listen to a lot of children's songs and watching Disney movies, in my case. English is my second language, but I could already understand it before being taught due to a lot of South African media being in English. I also have a theory regarding a psychological trick (I have no idea if anyone else thought of it): You learned your native language, so you can learn another language. And if you want to gain a respect for your efforts, try teaching your native language to a non-native speaker. Or just pretend as though you're going to teach it to someone else. You don't realise exactly how tricky your language actually is until that moment. And my language, Afrikaans, is considered to be one of the easier languages. I actually compared it to Polish, at least the pronunciation guide. Yeah… Afrikaans has a longer pronunciation section. The letter 'e' alone has about five different pronunciations.
When I'm starting with a language, I usually try to find Disney songs as soon as possible. In the first place, your ears can become accustomed to the sound of the language, and second, since you already know the songs, you can guess what the translations might be saying. The differences especially stick out. Also, it's interesting to see how familiar songs can sound different in another language. Just… the tone of the song. You also get a lot of DVDs with different language options. I'm still surprised to see languages like Romanian on South African DVDs. Portuguese, French and German are understandable since they have a presence in the country, but Romanian?
My sister was part of the province's youth orchestra, and even in the year when she didn't take part, we went to watch one of the concerts. Let's just say, neither my sister nor I could sit still when the Chicago medley was playing.