12[A/N] Chapter Two! Please enjoy. Then review and/or submit requests. We'll love you forever.
We don't own Hetalia, that much is clear.
Japan jumped to his feet, running towards the piercing screams sounding from Italy. He could see as he drew closer that the aforementioned nation was scrambling backwards from something, not stopping for breath as he wailed. Operating on autopilot from his secret training, Japan rushed straight to the distressed Italian and began checking him for wounds, until his hands were slapped away. Italy had thankfully ceased in his screams, but violent tremors and a complexion paler than the whitewashed walls of Santorini had replaced them. He raised his arm weakly, a hand covering his mouth as he pointed over Japan's shoulder.
"Ca…cats…and a p-person – dead! A d-dead p-p-person!" he managed to stutter out.
Slowly, Japan turned around to face the horrific scene behind him. In his rush to tend to the noisy patient, he had forgotten to check the cause of unrest.
It looked like something from a low-budget psychological horror film. On his left, some kind of tiny raft lay on the beach, sticking out from the sand ominously. Even more disturbing was the circle… a circle of about twenty cats, now staring and hissing at him and Italy, baring their fangs in anger. And, in the centre of their cult-like ring – a vaguely human sized mound. Oh, no. It couldn't be… he had to check; maybe Italy was wrong in his assumptions.
Japan began to edge towards the ferocious felines, cooing and kissing at them, murmuring soft, soothing reassurances in his native tongue. Japan loved cats, and thus was quite accomplished at calming them. Slowly, slowly, they began to give in. The hissing quietened, and the posture of their backs relaxed. They were submitting to his charm, being taken in by this strange person. He was not their kind owner, but his presence had the same feeling of honest gentleness and safety.
With this, Italy watched Japan make his way into the demonic ring. He wanted to shout to his friend, to save him before the evil cats mauled and devoured him. But, his body was limp. He was stuck there, gibbering under his breath and shaking as the scary scene played out before him. Those cats… were creepy, so very creepy. Not at all like normal, sweet, fluffy cats. These were more like some sort of malicious spirits.
Now fully inside the circle, Japan shuffled towards the 'body'. It was definitely a man, quite tall and lying on his side. Gently, Japan brushed away the brown curls obscuring the man's face – and found it somewhat familiar. He studied the still features a moment longer, forgetting his first-aid training in his concentration. Finally, he reached a conclusion and announced it in a monotone for Italy.
"It's Greece. Greece has washed up on a beach – that would explain the cats…"
The silence only lasted a split second longer as the information processed in the Italian's mind.
I really should not have told him, thought Japan as he turned away from the (suddenly energised) man now sprinting up the beach, screeching in terror. Well, Italy was – as usual – overreacting. Nations like Greece don't just die. It's not really possible. In fact, as he thought that, a small noise came from the Greek at his feet. Immediately, Japan focussed once more on him, assessing the situation. A groan escaped Greece's salt-encrusted lips, as he appeared to… wake up? An arm rose lazily, covering vulnerable eyes from the harsh midday sun, and Greece began to shift. As he did, he yawned, and took a breath to speak to himself in his not-quite-conscious state. A single word escaped his lips.
"Bleurgh."
Choosing not to betray his presence quite yet, the island nation sat and watched the fascinating process of a shipwrecked Greece remembering the events of the previous night.
"Oh, damn. My favourite trawler – storm. Cats? Cats safe, location…?" Here he felt around, judging his environment by touch, eyes still shut. "Beach. Washed up? No immediate danger, so sleep is allowed. G'night, furry ladies and gentlemen."
But, before the poor guy could fall back into his nap (for his seemingly death-like state had merely been a deep, deep sleep), he was subjected to the sound of muffled laughter from his side. Opening one eye, he evaluated the small man on his left, shaking with laughter as if had never laughed before, like he would break. It was strange, the feeling of being watched and found humorous in one's sleep. He didn't know how to react, so… he didn't. He simply groaned in despair under his breath and rolled over, trying to ignore the intrusion on his slumber.
Eventually, the sounds of giggling ceased, and this puzzled Greece, so he turned back. He was, after all, slightly interested in his audience. His eyebrows rose minutely when he saw his cats snuggling up to a complete stranger. The black-haired man seemed to have charmed the usually murderous creatures easily, petting them quietly. Greece made no comment, but chose to sit up. He had questions to ask, and from the look of his watcher's eyes when they flicked to his own, so did he.
They studied each other carefully, but the other man broke eye contact first, blushing unexplainably. Still looking away, he cleared his throat politely and took a breath to speak.
"I am sorry for my earlier rudeness, and for not introducing myself. You may remember me from World Conferences – I am the nation of Japan. I am currently staying in your country with Italy. Thank you for your hospitality up until now."
Well, he's reserved. Greece stayed quiet, thinking, and after a few seconds, Japan (who did indeed look familiar) glanced up expectantly to Greece's eyes, before once again blushing and avoiding his gaze. It was puzzling. Greece leaned back, preparing to speak at length.
…
Japan only nodded, and waited politely for Greece to continue. He knew he was being rude – constantly staring then getting flustered when their eyes met. It was silly, and he couldn't think why he was reacting so strangely. Well, Greece was looking very messy, but also quite handsome. He hair was curling madly due to the salt, and his clothes were torn and disorganised, but it all came together to form some sort of… fine frenzy. He looked like a hero from some Greek myth (here Japan blushed yet again), all fine angles and nonchalant mess.
"Japan, who is that man screaming on the beach?"
Slightly surprised, Japan took a moment to remember the state of his companion before replying.
"Erm. That would be Italy – do you not remember him? He is quite a close neighbour of yours, and he did ask you personally about this holiday…"
Greece looked completely blank. His eyebrows slowly furrowed, as he seemed to ponder Japan's words. Finally, he looked up, and spoke in a serious tone.
"I must have repressed that memory."
Holding back laughter once more (how long had it been since he had had such an irresistible urge to laugh?), Japan watched as Greece yawned in a satisfied manner, then lay back to return to sleep. Italy once again forgotten, Japan also relaxed, wanting to watch for just a little longer. He didn't realise it then, but Japan was already captivated by the enigma of a man in front of him.
Something brushing against his fingers woke Japan from his reminiscing.
"Hey, Kiku…"
He smiled enquiring, slightly distracted by the feeling of Greece's calloused fingers tracing patterns lazily on his own.
"Yes?"
"Since that day... you haven't changed... still so calm."
Japan looked away, smiling foolishly. Calm? To this day, when he was with Greece, his insides twisted and his blood rushed in his veins, his eyes begging to imprint those unruly features just a little deeper.
Yes, some things never have changed, and never will.
"Italy certainly wasn't calm. Remember how he sulked for six days straight, and then…"
Japan recounted the story, enjoying Greece's attentive smile, and the odd interjection as they remembered that time when they were little more than strangers.
The breeze carried the smell of citrus, and the sound of laughter trickled out from a little white villa, perched on top of a hill like a lady poised at the top of a grand staircase. It was a place of light, the kind that never changes, no matter how many times you visit. A place with walls seeped in memories.
[A/N] One request down!
Our little request drive has yielded many wonderful ideas, so many that it's becoming hard to choose just the best. We have a couple more lined up, but please keep submitting your ideas – they're really wonderful, and we are really thankful for the ones we've received so far. You guys are so cool!
Cead, we hope we met your criteria successfully. It was certainly fun to write, and if it's even a fraction as fun to read, then it can be said that we have achieved our goal.
Please review if we have – we'll treasure your opinions, even the flames.
Well, maybe not the flames.
Hobbsie and Natsumi, SilverWillowMusic.
