Kurogane did not often ponder about a lot of things. And if he really had to name at least one of them, it would be a way to make that damn magician shut the hell up for just two minutes. But, on a more serious note, the red eyed man liked to ponder about the words that awful hag told them on the day they had started their journey.
"You have to be carefull when traveling to unknown worlds. You might see people that you know from past worlds, people who live their lives in separate ways... And even yourself... Be cautious when you do."
At that time, he had barely thought it through. Back then, he had only thought about how to go back to his Japan, and how to get his katana back. But now, he often wondered exactly what would happen if he ever saw his own double. So far, he had never seem someone who looked like him, nor had he seen any doubles of the kid, the princess or that damned blonde.
But now... he wasn't so sure.
It had been three days since they arrived in this new world, where, apparently, countries were mostly teenagers, and where Japan (A boy who bared the name of his beautiful country) was a sissy looking shrimp with weak katana's and and strange obsessions with drawn animation and collecting dolls. Also, he had the strange symptoms of a hikkomori. A cry of disperse was worthy for this country, indeed.
After stranding into Japan's home, the sissy-boy had offered them to take them to another man-, country - whatever, to help them look for the feather. The only price they had to pay, was that they gave him the copywrite (whatever the hell that was) to make a Mokona doll. ("What is this... it talks... who made this doll?" "Mokona is not a doll, Mokona is a Mokona!" "Ah, it spoke again...")
And after that, they stranded in Italy. In an Italian restaurant.
"UAAIIII~~~ Kuro-puu, Kuro-puuuu~~" Kurogane's eyes twitched as the urge to stab somebody rose. The turned around to use to put action into his words, but could only pause in midway, when he wasn't greeted with the usual annoying grin of the blond magician, but with the sweet warm smile of Italy. "Oh" He muttered as he put the knife back on the table. Germany shot him a glare from across their table.
Italy didn't seem unfazed. "Kuro-puu, mister Kuro-puu! Mister Flourite told me you liked noodles, but we don't have noodles here in Italia, so I got you some pastaa~~! You'll like it, it's the most delicious yummy thing in the world, way better than noodles, and, and..."
Kurogane blocked the rest of the Italians babble. This had been exactly what he had feared, this had to be hitsuzen! There was no mistake.
This idiot had to be a double of Fai. Even their voices sounded alike, for kami's sake!
But... Kurogane had to admit, that the Italian was definitely cuter than the magician. Ever since they came to Italy's house, he had found it difficult to be his usual rude self to the Italian. The kid had the same kind of sweetness around him that he admired in his princess, and his dumb cheerfulness was truer than Fai's had ever been. He had also long understood that it would not help help getting angry at the man, and, for once, accepted Italy's names that were (no doubt) taught to him by the magician.
Kurogane had liked to fantasize more about pretty Italians, but sadly, hitsuzen liked to fuck with his mind, and all thoughts evaporated when Italy jumped on Germany's lap and started hugging him. Germany's face colored madly.
filled! [1/?]
"You have to be carefull when traveling to unknown worlds. You might see people that you know from past worlds, people who live their lives in separate ways... And even yourself... Be cautious when you do."
At that time, he had barely thought it through. Back then, he had only thought about how to go back to his Japan, and how to get his katana back. But now, he often wondered exactly what would happen if he ever saw his own double. So far, he had never seem someone who looked like him, nor had he seen any doubles of the kid, the princess or that damned blonde.
But now... he wasn't so sure.
It had been three days since they arrived in this new world, where, apparently, countries were mostly teenagers, and where Japan (A boy who bared the name of his beautiful country) was a sissy looking shrimp with weak katana's and and strange obsessions with drawn animation and collecting dolls. Also, he had the strange symptoms of a hikkomori. A cry of disperse was worthy for this country, indeed.
After stranding into Japan's home, the sissy-boy had offered them to take them to another man-, country - whatever, to help them look for the feather. The only price they had to pay, was that they gave him the copywrite (whatever the hell that was) to make a Mokona doll. ("What is this... it talks... who made this doll?" "Mokona is not a doll, Mokona is a Mokona!" "Ah, it spoke again...")
And after that, they stranded in Italy. In an Italian restaurant.
"UAAIIII~~~ Kuro-puu, Kuro-puuuu~~" Kurogane's eyes twitched as the urge to stab somebody rose. The turned around to use to put action into his words, but could only pause in midway, when he wasn't greeted with the usual annoying grin of the blond magician, but with the sweet warm smile of Italy. "Oh" He muttered as he put the knife back on the table. Germany shot him a glare from across their table.
Italy didn't seem unfazed. "Kuro-puu, mister Kuro-puu! Mister Flourite told me you liked noodles, but we don't have noodles here in Italia, so I got you some pastaa~~! You'll like it, it's the most delicious yummy thing in the world, way better than noodles, and, and..."
Kurogane blocked the rest of the Italians babble. This had been exactly what he had feared, this had to be hitsuzen! There was no mistake.
This idiot had to be a double of Fai. Even their voices sounded alike, for kami's sake!
But... Kurogane had to admit, that the Italian was definitely cuter than the magician. Ever since they came to Italy's house, he had found it difficult to be his usual rude self to the Italian. The kid had the same kind of sweetness around him that he admired in his princess, and his dumb cheerfulness was truer than Fai's had ever been. He had also long understood that it would not help help getting angry at the man, and, for once, accepted Italy's names that were (no doubt) taught to him by the magician.
Kurogane had liked to fantasize more about pretty Italians, but sadly, hitsuzen liked to fuck with his mind, and all thoughts evaporated when Italy jumped on Germany's lap and started hugging him. Germany's face colored madly.