Author's Note: Here you are~!
There is a serious lack of talking in this chapter, so I feel like it's more... descriptive than the others...
Also, this chapter is very... you'll see...
Disclaimer (Dark Side of the Moon): I don't own Hetalia, only the idea of this story. Although I wouldn't mind owning it...
He had never been so glad to leave a meeting.
The moment Germany dismissed them, he practically sped-walked out of the room, avoiding curious looks from equally curious nations. He didn't blame them for staring; his suit was rumpled, torn, and dirtied- it even had blood on it- in addition, he had walked into the room holding Russia's hand.
Russia, of course, didn't help matters. Throughout the rest of the meeting, he had been blatantly looking at Japan, not even trying to hide the fact that he was staring, his grin seemingly growing every single time the Japanese caught his eyes.
Kiku couldn't understand why the Russian would even do that. He was sitting next to him, wasn't that all the other wanted? He knew that the Russian did something similar before he had to flee from an angry Belarusian, yet he didn't think it would continue after.
He shivered involuntarily; sitting next to the Russian would only make- and had made- it easier for the other to stare at him. Japan frowned, deep in thought as he drove his rental car to his hotel, which, unfortunately, was the same hotel the other countries were staying in. He couldn't exactly say he hated Ivan's staring; if anything, it was uncomfortable. It was the way he stared at him; Something in those violet eyes… Something unfamiliar…
It wasn't possession, although he did see quite a bit of that as well. It also wasn't insanity, which most would expect from the tall man.
Probably the strangest thing about it was that Japan wasn't scared.
Just very, very uncomfortable.
Kiku shook his head, scattering his musings. He could think about this later.
Sighing, he drove into a parking space and put the car in park, stopping the engine. He leaned back in his seat for a moment, waiting for another car to leave before he (and all of his rumpled, blood-stained glory) set out across the lot, successfully avoiding anyone in his path until he got to his room.
He went through his usual routine, one that he would do after every meeting. He took off his shoes, set them in the closet; took out more comfortable clothing (in this case, a kimono); and changed out of his business suit. Usually he would take a nap- something he learned from Greece- but his routine was broken when he opened up his briefcase, pulling out his camera. He flipped through the photos until he was at the most recent one, the one of Russia's hands. Kiku grabbed a pen from the briefcase, the same pen that was in the photograph, and set it down. Tucking a few stray hairs behind his ear, he walked to his suitcase, drawing out two knitting needles and some lilac yarn.
He set to work, sitting on the bed, not allowing himself to think too much.
Russia looked at the hotel in front of him. Dark, bland walls looming ahead.
… Maybe he could visit Japan? After all, the nations (with the exception of the host) were all booked in the same hotel. He could easily go to the concierge and ask for "Mr. Honda's room".
He thought back to the meeting; it had been a long day. He probably shouldn't bother Kiku anymore than he had, but something was telling him to visit the Japanese…
His thoughts wandered to England.
Russia frowned. "What is that pig to Kiku?" Instantly unpleasant mental images took form in his head.
England hugging Japan. Japan hugging back. His friend and that pig, alone, at a candle-lit dinner. England kissing Japan. His Japan kissing back.
If it weren't for his thin gloves, his fingernails would've dug into his palms enough to draw blood by now.
He would give Kiku some time alone, but if England tried anything…
He wouldn't let the Englishman have him.
Kiku woke up to a consistent knocking on his door. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, not even remembering falling asleep, and hastily put his half-finished present into the top drawer of the standard hotel nightstand. He smoothed his kimono out and told whoever-it-was at the door that he was coming.
To his mild surprise, England was waiting at the door, bouquet of the reddest roses Japan had ever seen in hand. He nearly got a mouthful of petals when the Englishman thrust them forward without looking. "Th-They were on sale and I… Think of it as a 'get well soon' present. Er, for your arm, of course…" Arthur trailed off, eyes turned away from the Asian, awkwardness practically coming off of the blonde in vast waves.
"Ah… Arigato…" Kiku finally said after a moment of silence, taking the roses in his hands. "I wish I had a vase to put them in…" Neither moved. "Would you like to come inside?"
A stiff nod and a clearing of the throat. "Yes, that would be nice." Arthur followed him in, keeping his eyes away from Kiku.
"I, ah, wish I had something to offer you to drink, Arthur-san, but I do not have anything other than a bottle of water," Kiku said, observing the other. Arthur's posture screamed that he was nervous about something, and, although he didn't know what it was, he knew it must've been something serious to make him act like that.
"Er, no need to worry- I'm not thirsty right now." Green eyes flitted to his own brown ones. They didn't leave either. "I… I was wondering if you'd… like to…"
"Hm?" Kiku saw something in those eyes… Something similar to the look in Russia's…
"Would you like to go to supper sometime?" the Englishman said bluntly, looking like he wanted to say something else. Turning red, he tried again, "Or maybe something else? Uh, I don't really mind if you want to do something else instead- er, maybe a movie?"
Kiku stared at his friend.
"Are you… asking me on a date?"
Annnnnnnnnd you weren't expecting that, were you?
Don't worry, it's still PanDa- Russia will not let England have Japan.
R&R?
~Dark Side of the Moon
