Day 58: Arts & Crafts (Fourth shift)

[immortale]

Firo was glad to see the end of lunch, if only for the fact that in a few more hours, the day would be over. Night was the only time he had any real freedom of movement, and it was the only time he could do something worth doing, instead of just sitting around.

The usual soldier came to fetch him shortly after the announcement, with only a curt, "Come along, Saviano." Firo frowned, but followed him out of the cafeteria into the Sun Room.

He would have been fine with stopping there, but the soldier apparently had other ideas. When Firo stopped, he went so far as to grab hold of his shoulder and roughly steer him into one of the adjoining rooms, ignoring his protests all the while. The new room was full of round tables with various items like colored paper and paint in the middle, and Firo had a sinking feeling about it. What had the activity mentioned in the announcement been? Arts and crafts?

"What am I supposed to do in here?" he spat at the guard.

"Draw a flower. Make a bracelet. I don't care," was the gruff response before the soldier disappeared out the door.

Firo had half a mind to follow him out, but no—he'd wait a few minutes first, just in case he got shoved back into the pointless room. In the meantime, he took a seat at one of the tables, turning his chair towards the door and leaning his head against one arm propped up on the table.

[For Battler]

Comments

[spandexorgtfo.livejournal.com]

Finally, finally, Honda lowered his mustache, and Kratos had to resist all but throwing his down onto the table in relief. He had never felt so self-conscious in his life--well, a few occasions with Anna aside--and he immediately vowed that he would never allow himself to be led into doing anything remotely similar for the rest of his life, however long that would be. It was that horrible feeling of scrutiny that he hated the most, the knowledge that Honda must have found him equally silly, that all of his effort to keep still and quiet was only adding to the humor of the moment...

Honestly, he should have just gone back to the Sun Room.

Kratos' eyes darted sideways as he prayed that no one else in the room had managed to see what had just transpired, and thankfully, blessedly, no one was gaping or staring. He had somehow escaped, and he was about to force Honda to promise that no one would ever know of this little episode on pain of something suitably painful when the other man cleared his throat and said something that immediately wiped all such thoughts from his mind.

"...what?" He blinked, not quite sure how to respond. Was it a compliment or an insult? Was Honda teasing him? Oh, of all the things-- "Ah..." How? "You're welcome."

[osoreirimasu.livejournal.com]

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.

[spandexorgtfo.livejournal.com]

'Meet that person'? That was a rather cryptic response, but it didn't seem as if Honda had any intention of teasing him, so Kratos did not inquire further. After all, it wasn't as if he would know this person that Honda was referring to.

He bowed his head slightly. "It was my..." Pleasure? Both of them would know that that was a lie. Better to use something a little less blatant. "It was something new. And for that, I thank you as well."

It was true, in a fashion. He had done so much in his life, most of it relatively useless, that he was hard-pressed to find something that he had never experienced before. As mortifying as holding the mustache up had been, there was a certain refreshing quality to it that Kratos was not entirely sure he approved of. But it was there nevertheless.