This story is a collaboration, so if it seems a little choppy in parts, our apologies. I'm still editing it, but it's all planned out and mostly done, so it shouldn't be too long between updates.
On with the story! ______
Japan’s hands were cramping from so much time spent tapping on his keyboard, his back ached, his vision was blurry, and he had long ago lost track not only of how long since he had slept, but how much coffee he had consumed. He hadn’t drunk every cup that he’d made, though—at this point, he kept spilling it. Luckily not on anything vital.
He would have kept working until he passed out, but fortunately he wasn’t entirely alone; he was so focused on his work that he had blocked out all sounds, but eventually Tama got tired of his failure to respond to his hungry meows and pawed at his leg. He wasn’t using claws (yet), but unfortunately, the unexpected touch startled him so much that he dropped his coffee mug—not for the first time, but evidently for the last. It shattered on the floor, the sound of breaking ceramic making him wince; it hurt both his ears and his heart—that was his favorite mug!
Tama flattened his ears and hissed, displeased at the scary sound; out of the corner of his eye, Japan saw Pochi turn tail and run. “I’m sorry!” he blurted out, unhappy at having caused his pets so much distress. His own heart was pounding, too—apparently, even something as small as upsetting his little companions was enough to get his adrenaline up today.
Well, that and the multiple pots of coffee couldn’t be helping.
As much as he wanted to clean up the remains of his mug, his animals needed reassurance and food. He was able to get Pochi calmed down quickly enough, and poured him a bowl of dry food that he happily set upon, but Tama would not relax; he accepted being petted, but eyed Japan somewhat warily and refused to purr no matter where he was scratched.
“What is the matter with you today?” Japan asked, frustrated. “I know I haven’t been paying you the proper attention, but I am busy! You know how often I’m loaded down with too much work.”
Tama gave him what he could only interpret as a look of pure distain, then turned his back.
“Fine,” he snapped, standing up. “I will feed you and you will leave me alone, deal?” He stalked to the cabinet and yanked out the box of cat food; unfortunately, he was apparently moving more quickly than he thought and nearly dropped it. At his wits’ end, he cursed a blue streak, at least managing to fill Tama’s bowl as he did.
He meant to go right back to work, but he had managed to forget about the broken mug until he saw it again. Muttering even more curses, he picked up the pieces, only to drop them and snarl at a sudden sharp pain; due to his hands still shaking, he’d cut himself. Japan stared at the blood welling up from his fingertips, suddenly feeling faint. He tried to step back, but his body was no longer obeying him and he collapsed to the floor. He was fortunate enough not to land on any ceramic shards, but for reasons that had nothing to do with the pain of landing on a hard surface, it was rapidly becoming all he could do to keep himself from screaming until his throat was raw—which he just might if he let himself start. He knew, because he’d done it before in centuries past.
He curled up as tight as he could on the floor, hands over his mouth, trying to remain in control… a cruel joke, under the circumstances. No matter how many times he experienced this, the feeling of doom that accompanied it always convinced him almost completely that his heart was about to burst and he was going to die.
Herbal Relief (1/?)
This story is a collaboration, so if it seems a little choppy in parts, our apologies. I'm still editing it, but it's all planned out and mostly done, so it shouldn't be too long between updates.
On with the story!
______
Japan’s hands were cramping from so much time spent tapping on his keyboard, his back ached, his vision was blurry, and he had long ago lost track not only of how long since he had slept, but how much coffee he had consumed. He hadn’t drunk every cup that he’d made, though—at this point, he kept spilling it. Luckily not on anything vital.
He would have kept working until he passed out, but fortunately he wasn’t entirely alone; he was so focused on his work that he had blocked out all sounds, but eventually Tama got tired of his failure to respond to his hungry meows and pawed at his leg. He wasn’t using claws (yet), but unfortunately, the unexpected touch startled him so much that he dropped his coffee mug—not for the first time, but evidently for the last. It shattered on the floor, the sound of breaking ceramic making him wince; it hurt both his ears and his heart—that was his favorite mug!
Tama flattened his ears and hissed, displeased at the scary sound; out of the corner of his eye, Japan saw Pochi turn tail and run. “I’m sorry!” he blurted out, unhappy at having caused his pets so much distress. His own heart was pounding, too—apparently, even something as small as upsetting his little companions was enough to get his adrenaline up today.
Well, that and the multiple pots of coffee couldn’t be helping.
As much as he wanted to clean up the remains of his mug, his animals needed reassurance and food. He was able to get Pochi calmed down quickly enough, and poured him a bowl of dry food that he happily set upon, but Tama would not relax; he accepted being petted, but eyed Japan somewhat warily and refused to purr no matter where he was scratched.
“What is the matter with you today?” Japan asked, frustrated. “I know I haven’t been paying you the proper attention, but I am busy! You know how often I’m loaded down with too much work.”
Tama gave him what he could only interpret as a look of pure distain, then turned his back.
“Fine,” he snapped, standing up. “I will feed you and you will leave me alone, deal?” He stalked to the cabinet and yanked out the box of cat food; unfortunately, he was apparently moving more quickly than he thought and nearly dropped it. At his wits’ end, he cursed a blue streak, at least managing to fill Tama’s bowl as he did.
He meant to go right back to work, but he had managed to forget about the broken mug until he saw it again. Muttering even more curses, he picked up the pieces, only to drop them and snarl at a sudden sharp pain; due to his hands still shaking, he’d cut himself. Japan stared at the blood welling up from his fingertips, suddenly feeling faint. He tried to step back, but his body was no longer obeying him and he collapsed to the floor. He was fortunate enough not to land on any ceramic shards, but for reasons that had nothing to do with the pain of landing on a hard surface, it was rapidly becoming all he could do to keep himself from screaming until his throat was raw—which he just might if he let himself start. He knew, because he’d done it before in centuries past.
He curled up as tight as he could on the floor, hands over his mouth, trying to remain in control… a cruel joke, under the circumstances. No matter how many times he experienced this, the feeling of doom that accompanied it always convinced him almost completely that his heart was about to burst and he was going to die.
Japan absolutely despised his panic attacks.