Though he could understand Kratos' discomfort, he couldn't help but smile at it. It reminded him far too much of Germany, now that he considered Kratos' type. The stoic, hardworking, rarely smiling type that needed a plucky companion like Italy to soften his hard edges. Although, come to think of it, Kratos didn't have the mukimuki type necessary to be Germany. Ah well, he was close and that was what mattered.

Close enough that he wasn't able to read Japan either. He wondered if anyone could, really, but being a Japanese man, if someone could read him, he may have to force them into silence upon pain of death. Some things that went on his head simply shouldn't be allowed to see the light of day. Such things were better suited for Comiket or circle-kai.

Ah. He was daydreaming again.

"..." He smiled at Kratos and slipped the mustache off the table, sliding it into his sleeve as easily as if he were putting it into his kimono sleeve. After wearing western clothes for so long, he'd become rather skilled at hiding things away - especially paper. "I haven't been able to meet that person for such a long time now...it was nice. To have a little bit of that connection back. Thank you for putting up with my strange request." It wasn't quite an explanation, but it was close enough and perhaps it would help Kratos understand his remark was neither insult or jest, but simply the nostalgic remark of a nation who was far too old.