Hello, everyone! Thank you for all your kind feedback and for being so patient while I edited part 2!

The prompts for this part are the same as those in the last chapter: vacation on a tropical island; marble; coffee; sea eagles; chocolate fountains + marshmallows (exploding); champagne truffles; drunken Japan; roses in the swimming pool; cake on top of a mountain; lemurs; typhoon; candles in caves; and, moon, flowers, and tea.

Yao was keeping a very close eye on Kiku. Anything involving alcoholic beverages and said nation was likely to end in disaster. Indeed, having managed to survive three drinks, Kiku was already very tipsy, giggling away at everything everyone said and mixing up his words.

"Kiku, you've had enough," he said, trying to discourage him from drinking further.

"That's rich," Kiku said, giggling, his face a bright red. "Lalcohilic."

Yao sighed, ignoring the comment (which was entirely unfounded—he just happened to be very good at keeping his alcohol; five thousand years did that to you), still trying to prise the glass from Kiku's fingers.

"You can't," Kiku said, trying to sound stern. "You have to learn to share."

He raised his eyebrows, amused.

"No buts," Kiku said, taking on a stern tone that was surprisingly reminiscent of his own when he had been scolding the younger East Asian nations. "Or it's straight to bed with you."

Yao coughed on his drink and spluttered. France looked on in amusement. "Not that you'd complain about that, eh, China? Keep it up, Japan, you'll win him over in no time." Kiku gave a small cheer.

"Th-That's completely—" Yao trailed off, clearing his throat. "Have you… cut your hair?" he said, suddenly noticing the curiously lopsided and rather scruffy hairstyle.

"You know how it is," France said vaguely, embarrassed. "Fashion is fickle." Yao raised an eyebrow again. Nearby, England snickered loudly, muttering something about marshmallows. Well, that confirmed it. His allies were mad.

It was then that America's voice broke out over everyone else's, louder than ever. "Hey, you guys! We should make this a pool drinks party! Everyone jump in!"

"Don't be silly," Ivan said, rolling his eyes. "Then again, I've no idea why I'm saying that to you…"

"Fine, we'll take a vote," America said, sticking his tongue out at his long-time rival and partner. "You agree, don't you, Kiku?"

Kiku nodded, possibly—probably—blissfully unaware of what he was agreeing to. "See?" America said, grinning. "Kiku agrees!" With that, the younger nation turned, and pushed Kiku in.

Pushed Kiku in. This was totally different from the day at the beach. Now, Kiku was drunk, uninhibited, and could easily be hurt. Instantly, Yao was on his feet, angrily pushing America in before the other could react. Seeing this, England raced to the poolside. Yao barely noticed, too busy trying to grab Kiku's hand as the other reached for him. He seemed scared, like he was desperate to get out. Yao imagined he was probably embarrassed. Finally, he grabbed Kiku under the arms and lifted him out, ignoring the thought of the others behind them as Kiku's thin arms looped around his neck.

"Are you alright?" he asked, helping the other to his feet, not neglecting to send a very nasty glare America's way. As far as he was concerned, this was entirely the other's fault. "Save it," he snapped at England, who was trying to defend America's actions.

Thankfully, the others had averted their eyes, save for poor Italy, who was looking on in distressed concern. Kiku had probably not noticed, for his wide eyes were still facing the floor. "Come on," he said, tenderly taking Kiku's wrist in his hand and leading him away. Kiku followed meekly, occasionally stumbling.

When they were out of sight, Yao motioned for Kiku to get on his back, which thankfully did not give way as he carried Kiku to his room. Kiku's face was buried into his neck, and the soft, regular breaths indicated that he was asleep. It was only when he arrived at Kiku's room that he realised that he did not know where Kiku's keys were. Not particularly keen on sorting through his wet clothes to find them, he headed for his own room.

He turned on the light and put Kiku in one of the comfortable chairs. Fetching a couple of the hotel's fluffy towels and removed Kiku's sodden footwear. Gently, he dried Kiku's small feet, and then his arms. Hesitating, he removed Kiku's shirt. At first, he dare not look, but as his hands brushed Kiku's soft skin, curiosity got the better of him. At the sight of Kiku's pale and slender figure, he blushed, and tried to focus on his task. He finished drying the back of Kiku's neck and hesitated. Removing his trousers and continuing would be… too much.

He picked up Kiku's wet clothes and took them into the bathroom, realising as he went that he was hopelessly in love.

Kiku woke to unfamiliar surroundings, a strong headache and an unpleasant chill. Blinking away the heaviness of sleep, he looked around. It was then that he noticed his shirt was gone, as well as his shoes, and that his legs were soaked. Panicking, he clutched at a nearby towel and stood up, upsetting a vase and only just managing to catch it. He was almost at the en suite when he tripped over the rug, just as Yao opened the door.

Yao felt Kiku's small weight in his arms before he realised that they would fall. Then Kiku was on top of him (not quite as undressed as he would have liked), blushing red. They stared at each other for a long moment before Kiku came to his senses and started apologising frantically, bowing and nearly whacking him on the forehead. Yao felt a spike of pain in his back and winced. "Kiku," he kept saying, trying to speak around Kiku's constant apologies. "Kiku, it's okay, could you just…" Kiku sat up, still atop him, concern and apology in his eyes. Yao felt no better about this position either.

"You were drunk," he explained. "America pushed you in the pool, so I, um… just dried you off a bit." Blushing, Kiku nodded, and clambered off him, helping him up. Yao rubbed the base of his spine. "Wait here," he said, leaving Kiku on the bathroom floor and fetching the panda pyjamas. "Here. Put these on, okay?"

Kiku thanked him, far too formally, disappearing into the bathroom. As he too changed into his sleepwear, he noticed a bottle of champagne and a box of chocolates sitting on the coffee table. He hadn't ordered them, and he had no idea where they had come from. Before he could puzzle about it further, Kiku emerged, swamped by black and white fabric. Yao looked away, blushing like a fool. Kiku was just too endearing. "Too cute," he whispered, but from the way Kiku froze, he knew the other had heard it.

"Um," he said, hesitating as he sat on the dry chair. "Thank you for…"

"Don't mention it," he said. "Are you okay?" Kiku nodded, but still looked embarrassed. "You've sobered up." He felt an odd sort of relief. Maybe it had something to do with getting Kiku out of embarrassment and threat.

"The cold water," he explained, thin shoulders still shivering.

Yao draped a blanket around his shoulders. He was not too happy about letting Kiku drink the champagne, but maybe chocolate would restore his energy a little and warm him up. "Go on, have one. It'll do you good."

"Ah, but really, I only need to sleep, I'll be fine in the morn—morning," Kiku said, yawning. Yao seized his chance and stuffed a chocolate into his mouth, grinning as Kiku turned pink, startled. Coughing in shock, Kiku blinked in surprise at him, struggling to swallow it.

"Chocolate can be good for shock," Yao told him, pushing the box towards him so that he would take another.

Kiku complied and picked one up, taking a small bite before looking up at him. "Won't you have one too?" he asked. "It's… They are yours."

Yao smiled and took one, freezing as the taste hit his palate. It was only then that he realised his terrible mistake. The chocolates—truffles, to be precise—were flavoured… champagne flavoured. Kiku watching him curiously, confused. "Ah, I just, um, well," he trailed off. Surely a tiny amount of alcohol wouldn't hurt?

But Kiku had already spied the champagne. Yao sent a questioning look his way; loath to let Kiku have any of it. Kiku caught his look and blushed. Unable to turn him down, Yao poured him a glass. His eyes sparkled as he sipped it. Kiku was beautiful, with his dark eyes shining and his cheeks tinted pink. Those small hands, those high cheekbones… Yao found himself staring and sipped the champagne to distract himself. It was high-quality, and high in alcohol content, and he knew for a fact that Kiku would be drunk in no time, despite having only two admittedly very large glasses.

Indeed, ten minutes later, Kiku was smiling blissfully. "Be careful," Yao said, steadying Kiku's hand as he tried to put the empty glass down.

Kiku giggled at his touch. Yao raised an eyebrow and moved towards him. "You've had enough already," he said, edging closer. Even though drunk, and somewhat uninhibited, Kiku was still alert, and would think it all a delightful game. "I think you should come—go to bed."

Kiku shook his head playfully. Before he could protest, Yao scooped him up and carried him to the sofa. He blushed as Kiku wrapped his arms around his neck and loudly (well, loudly by Kiku's standards) hummed 'Here comes the Bride'. On the sofa, Kiku made no attempt to unlock his arms from around Yao's neck, now singing. "Here comes the bride, dressed like a panda."

Yao removed his hands, held them in his own for a brief second, and kissed Kiku's forehead, covering him with the blanket before retreating to bed. He was half-asleep when Kiku softly crossed the room and crouched by the bed, watching him with wide eyes. Then, seemingly on a whim, Kiku climbed in and curled up beside him. Like this, it was nearly impossible to move without disturbing him.

The panda pyjamas tickled his chin, slightly coarser than Kiku's hair. Between them, the bed was pleasantly warm. He could sleep like this, holding Kiku, cuddling him, even. When he listened closely, he could hear the others down by the pool. But here with Kiku, he felt distanced from that, at peace. The other's scent, which he had never noticed before, was pleasant and sweet, and Yao had the strongest desire to just lie down with him and hold him until the morning came.

Kiku seemingly had other plans.

"China-san, this isn't a very normal wedding night." His feet brushed against Yao's shins as he shifted to look up at him, the panda pyjamas only making him look cuter. "I'm not wearing a dress. Or a suit. Or even lingerie."

Oh goodness. "Let's play a game," he mumbled sleepily, and Kiku nodded into his side. "It's called 'who can keep quiet the longest'." If Kiku hadn't been drunk, he would never have fallen for this. But drunk he was, and so he was fooled. Trying not to linger on Kiku's earlier statement, he closed his eyes.

Sometime later, Kiku spoke up at a whisper. "China-san, am I winning?"

Yao did not answer, already fast asleep. Moments later, Kiku joined him.

Yao woke in the morning with a slight weight by his side. Kiku's presence there surprised him at first, but then he recalled the events of the night before and smiled softly. As Kiku exhaled particularly heavily, a stray strand of hair lifted up and fell down again. Yao nearly melted—the other was simply so precious. But he was much more than that. Kiku was special. He under-valued himself so much (too much, Yao thought), but he had a strong effect on people. He understood others and helped them understand themselves, twisting their faults into things to be appreciated.

Yao had long since realised that he was looking for a companion; someone who he could look after and dote on, someone he could be with all the time. In a way, maybe he was craving consistency; to wake up loving one person and to fall asleep loving that person.

As he stroked Kiku's hair, a smile worked its way onto the other's sleeping face.

He had finally found that.

Whereas Yao's morning had been relatively calm, Kiku's morning was filled with panic. Waking up in Yao's bed, showering in his bathroom and wearing his clothes (his were still wet and he did not want to risk walking around in the panda pyjamas) did not come under Kiku's definition of comfortable. If he ever got over the awkwardness from this, it would be a miracle.

"I'm really sorry," he said again as he handed Yao the last of his neatly-folded clothes, after having changed in his own room. "I've caused you so much trouble…"

Yao smiled at him over the threshold. "It's no problem. You weren't really in the best state of mind anyway."

"I apologise," he said again, bowing this time. Yao ruffled his hair as he did so.

"You're no trouble," he said, as kind as ever. "I'll see you later?"

Kiku nodded, for some reason feeling a little disappointed as Yao left and walked away. Yao turned to wave, smiling at him. Blushing, and feeling better as he did so, Kiku waved back.

After Yao was out of sight, Kiku retreated into his room and sat on his bed, trying to make sense of everything. It had pained him terribly to see Yao leave. No matter how he had sometimes tried to deny it, Yao had been a near-constant presence in his life. Consistency created security, security created reassurance…

It wasn't so much that he needed that, though he did, sometimes. But there was something about Yao that made him a healing sort of presence. He was kind and patient, especially given that he often waited for Kiku to open up on his own. Around Yao, Kiku could be himself. Kiku supposed he needed that.

But there were other sides to Yao, too—he was strong-willed and determined, and it showed. He did not come across as such, but he could take charge, too.

And he was a mystery. No matter how he changed, Yao was always still himself; there was some underlying quality in him that had never changed. Kiku admired that. He resisted change for as long as he could, then suddenly went with it, losing a lot of himself in the process. At the least, it felt that way.

So maybe opposites attracted. Sinking onto the bed, he sighed, wondering what to do. He had two options, neither of which was particularly attractive. Confessing his feelings might jeopardise the relationship that he had worked hard to build. To wait would be to prolong this odd emotional stalemate, but it might make Yao happier. Then again, Yao's behaviour had been oddly… forthright recently. He touched his lips at the memory of the kiss in the shop and shivered as he recalled Yao's long fingers stroking his hair.

What did the other need, anyway? As far as Kiku was concerned, he had no special qualities or redeeming characteristics; he was just a quiet, flawed person who was remarkably unremarkable.

So why did Yao pay such an interest in him? Could it really be that Yao loved him too?

Francis finished removing the last of the rose flowers from its stem and placed it on the water, watching as it bobbed towards the centre of the pool. Feliciano cheered.

"Hooray, we're finally finished!"

Francis nodded and smiled at him. Three hundred rose flowers and several hundred single petals floated in the smaller, secluded pool. This was the pinnacle of their plans. After this, China and Japan were on their own.

Yao sat up as a piece of paper worked its way under his door. "Who is it?" he called. At the sound of hastily retreating footsteps, he opened the door, but just missed Italy's form vanishing around a corner. "Strange," he said, picking up the note.

Yao-san, it read. Come to the small pool at 6.00. Kiku. Despite the fact that he and Kiku often used Mandarin or Japanese to communicate privately, the note was written in English.

Odd, Yao thought, looking at the name. He never calls me Yao.

But he set off all the same, not wanting to be late.

When he arrived, the sight of the pool with all the roses astounded him. But curiously, Kiku wasn't there. That was slightly saddening, but maybe Kiku was just running late (which was, he conceded, a very unlikely excuse). Thinking about it, the gesture, though beautiful, was not something Kiku would do. It was far too bold; far too visible.

The sun was low and it was hot. The humidity was nearly unbearable. He dipped his feet into the pool, relishing the cool water. Slipping off his shirt, he submerged himself in the rose-filled pool, and waited for Kiku.

A note slid under his door. Curious, Kiku picked it up, eyebrows furrowing in slight confusion as he read it.

Kiku, come to the small pool at 6.10. Yao.

Why would he write in English? Kiku wondered. If anything, Mandarin would have been the most obvious choice. Unless… it wasn't written by China-san. Now that he thought about it, hadn't Francis been terribly curious whenever he was with Yao? And hadn't the others been disappearing at opportune moments rather frequently? Kiku frowned, tucked the note in his pocket and left his room, thinking as he went.

Yao was in the pool, surrounded by roses. Kiku's heart skipped a beat. It was romantic, certainly, but flashy, and he was not prone to public displays of affection. He even drew away from simple, unromantic touching. The kiss in the shop the other day had been a strange mix of mortifying and pleasing.

Furthermore, given the note… It was likely that someone was watching. "It's unlike you to be late," Yao called, and Kiku looked at his watch.

"I'm early," he answered, waiting for Yao's reply. "Your note said six-ten."

Yao looked confused. "My note? You're the one who sent a note."

"We're being set up," Kiku said simply, sitting on the edge and dipping his feet in. With that, everything fell into place, and Yao frowned in understanding. Yao swam over to him, folding his arms and resting his chin on them as he looked up at him.

"I knew this wasn't something you'd do." He said, sounding disappointed. "But we might as well make use of it, I suppose."

Not quite sure what to make of Yao's words, Kiku looked at him in confusion. Yao reached up, taking his hand and pulling him in. For a moment, his bare chest was exposed, and Kiku blushed, trying not to stare. His muscles, an unexpected counterpart to his slim figure, were actually finely defined, and he was strong. Kiku blushed harder as Yao smiled, then struggled as Yao pulled him into his arms. He soon gave up, however, and it simply felt right to put his own around Yao's neck. Yao leant into him, inhaling deeply and pulling him closer. He gasped, wriggling a little, but Yao held him tightly.

"I love you," Yao whispered into his ear, making him stop completely. "I really do."

Yao's lips hovered above his own. Drawn to them, Kiku almost leant in, but then his eyes subconsciously changed focus to the courtyard around them. He remembered the shop, the kiss, the strange sensation of happy embarrassment turning to humiliation. "No," he said, leaning away. "Please don't."

Yao's usually proud shoulders slumped. He looked hurt. Instantly Kiku saw his mistake—Yao thought he didn't love him. "Please, don't take that the wrong way," he pleaded, still in Yao's arms. "I do love you. I've loved you for such a long time now. But to… kiss, here, is…"

"Do you mean that?" he asked, meeting his eyes. He did not smile, and Kiku knew he was totally serious. "You… love me?"

"Yes," Kiku said, nodding into Yao's neck. He finally understood why it was called a confession. He felt dirty, having kept it secret for so long. Saying it aloud was a relief. He froze as the other's shoulders heaved, worrying that Yao was crying, but then raucous laughter broke out. Confused, Kiku looked up at him.

"I'm so relieved," Yao said, beaming at him. "I've agonised over that for days," he said, looking down at him fondly.

Relieved, Kiku sighed, clinging tightly to Yao's form. They had been treading water for a while now, and, not being the best of swimmers, he was getting tired. Yao climbed out of the pool. "Here," he extended a hand and Kiku took it, glad to be out. Rose petals clung to his clothes and hair, and Yao tenderly picked them off as they sat there.

Together, they returned to Kiku's room, showering and drying off. They sat on the bed together, basking in each other's company, Yao picking yet more flowers out of his hair.

"Are we…" Yao began, trailing off uncertainly.

Kiku hesitated to confirm what they both wanted to hear. Could they really make a relationship work, while still navigating political sensitivities and cultural minefields? It was a relatively long-distance relationship, too. They could fall into traps; being too clingy and suffocating the relationship; not seeing enough of each other and letting it die… "I need time," he said, trying to sort through his doubts. "I just… want to think a bit."

Yao's shoulders fell, and Kiku began to panic. "Of course," Yao said, his weak smile wavering dangerously. "Of course. I'll just… go."

Before Kiku could stop him and explain, Yao was on his feet, and Kiku did not think there was anything that would have stopped him leaving or brought him back.

Yao lay awake that night, nursing a wounded heart. Kiku did the same, blaming himself for being too hesitant, too cautious. To him, conquering his doubts had seemed the best way forward, for ignoring them could have been detrimental to the relationship. But doing so had ruined all chances of it anyway, and Kiku wept for all the things he had imagined doing, all the happiness he had imagined giving, all of which would never come true.

Yao walked up the steep hill with a forced spring in his step. The hike up the volcano, which had thankfully displayed no signs of activity for a very long time, was both refreshing and upsetting: it was a wonderful day, but he still felt demoralised from the night before. Although Kiku returned and reciprocated his feelings, he had been turned down. 'Time to think' had obviously been a synonym for 'no', and he had not quite come to terms with that rejection yet.

For his part, Kiku trailed at the very back of the group with Italy and Germany. Even though he smiled occasionally, he looked crestfallen and upset.

"Stick close," Arthur called as they entered a dense, thick forest. The trail was largely invisible, long since overgrown.

He looked back, where Kiku was crouched down in the grass, trying to find something in his bag. "Go on ahead," Yao heard him say. "I'll catch up." Ludwig nodded, dragging Feliciano to the main group. Yao, however, hung back, waiting for him, wanting to talk to him. As Kiku swiftly took a couple of painkillers, Yao walked back to where he was.

"Come on," he said, crouching down. "We'll be left behind."

Kiku nodded, not looking at him as he hastily repacked his bag. They walked in silence, with Kiku's head bowed so low that Yao could not see his face. As they walked further, Yao realised that the others were nowhere to be seen. "Hey," he said, attracting Kiku's attention. "Can you hear the others?"

Kiku listened, meeting his eyes as he realised what was happening. "Well, we came from that way," Yao said, pointing over his shoulder. "Perhaps we should walk back."

Although they retraced their steps, they found no sign of the others. No one answered their calls, and there was no sign of where they had walked. They exchanged glances, realising that they were completely and utterly lost. "Let's just walk," Yao suggested, and Kiku nodded his agreement. "Stick close, okay? I don't want you getting lost too."

Conversation finally broke out as they walked. It wasn't much, but it helped to relieve a bit of the tension. Yao realised that even if Kiku had turned him down fully, he would still love him dearly for a long time. Rejection did not spell giving up, either.

"China-san, there's something I should tell you," Kiku began, but Yao interrupted him. Right now, he couldn't bear hearing it.

"Not yet," he said, not meeting Kiku's eyes. "Let's get out of here first."

Kiku agreed, albeit reluctantly. After taking numerous turns towards wherever the light seemed strongest, they finally escaped the forest, blinking as the strong sunlight hit their eyes.

Nearby, a track led up the mountain. From there, they would hopefully be able to look out over the forest and work out where they were. The track was steep, but not unbearable. Caves dotted the mountain to the side of them. Yao stopped and looked around. "This is a nice spot," he said, sitting down on the path. Kiku sat next to him, silent and content. It reminded Yao of the many nights they had spent watching the moon. "Look," Yao said, pointing in the trees. "That bird."

"It's like the one that stole America-san's glasses," Kiku said, smiling fondly at the memory. "Oh, that's right," he said, as though having just remembered something. He still looked perfect, Yao thought. He was captivatingly cute, swinging his legs over the side of the mountain as he sorted through his backpack. He placed a small box between them, looking slightly embarrassed.

Yao opened the pack carefully. Inside was a cake, beautifully decorated and rather tempting. Without realising it, they had both worked up an appetite walking through the woods and up the mountain. Kiku produced plastic forks and smiled.

The wind picked up as they ate in what was the most comfortable silence of the day (which wasn't saying much). With some deliberation, Kiku began to speak. "China-san, I really need to say…"

"Ah! Look! Look!" Yao heard movement behind them and turned to look. There on the path was a curious lemur, its big orange eyes watching them curiously. "It's so cute!" he gushed, not noticing how Kiku's shoulders slumped and how weakly the other agreed. "Here, here," he cooed, breaking off a bit of cake and throwing it gently to the inquisitive animal. The lemur approached and cautiously took the bait.

Yao threw another bit of cake and tried to coax the animal even further. Another lemur appeared, then another, until nearly ten were crowded round him. Too caught up in feeding them, he barely noticed that it was beginning to rain. Then, startled by something, they turned and fled into the forest.

Disappointed, he turned back to Kiku, who was watching the trees intently. "China-san, I don't think this is just an ordinary storm," he said, shivering. Yao saw how steeply the trees were bent and the rate at which the rain was falling. The box of cake, only half finished, vanished over the side of the mountain path, knocked off by the wind.

"…I think you might be right," he replied, looking up at the darkened sky. He stood up, ignoring Kiku's repeated warnings for him to stay seated. "There's a cave over there," he said, shouting over the roar of the wind. "Come on!"

Kiku looked up at Yao and then down at the forest. He did not want to meet the same fate as the cake, but getting up was not very appealing either. Still sitting down, he inched backwards and cautiously climbed to his feet, picking up his bag as he did so. Yao took his hand and squeezed it. Kiku was grateful for the comfort. The wind had really picked up, and they struggled to move. He lost his footing once, and nearly fell, but Yao caught him, securing an arm around his waist.

Finally, they made it to the mouth of the cave. They stood cautiously in the entrance, still lashed by the wind and rain. Using his phone as a light, Kiku scoured the cave from top to bottom. Thankfully, it was empty, save for an odd collection of candles in the corner and a small table in the other. Exchanging curious glances, they ventured in, still holding hands.

"Do you have your lighter?" he asked, thanking Yao as he handed it to him. After lighting several of the candles, he turned his phone off. The storm could last for a long time, so it was better to eke out the batteries, and the others could still phone Yao's number.

Yao was sitting by the wall of the cave, watching him. Kiku sat next to him, finding the picnic blanket he had been carrying in his pack. "It'll be okay," Yao said, trying to reassure him. Kiku nodded, drawing the blanket over them both. Neither spoke for a long while; and it was only when Yao's head sunk onto his lap that Kiku realised he was asleep.

Kiku smiled sadly, praying that he still had a chance to make things right between them.

Yao woke stiffly, to very dim light. His head was on something soft and warm, and hands played with his hair. Realisation struck him: he was in Kiku's lap. He struggled upwards, stretching his shoulders. "Good morning," Kiku quipped, watching as he sat up.

Tired, he only poked his tongue out in reply. "It's still not let up, then?"

Kiku shook his head, remaining quiet. Yao could tell that something was bothering him, and touched his arm softly. "I'm sorry," Kiku began. "If it hadn't been for me, we wouldn't have been in this mess at all. And…"

"You apologise too much," he said, hearing the sincerity in Kiku's voice. Kiku's apologies were nearly always sincere. For Kiku to depreciate his actions and so often find fault with himself worried Yao a little.

Kiku shook his head again, somewhat enigmatically. "About yesterday, too. All I meant was that I didn't want to rush into anything. I thought that if I did, I would end up hurting you." He looked a pitiful sight, his knees drawn up to his chest and his head bowed over them. "But as it happens, I did anyway. It's all I ever do. I'm sorry."

Relieved, but also a little sad, he gently wrapped an arm around Kiku's shoulders. The other did not flinch or shy away, but the lack of response was just as worrying, if not more so. Kiku did want to be with him after all, but was concerned for him. He should have seen that, really. He pulled Kiku closer until he was finally able to coax the other into his lap. Kiku wriggled a little to get comfortable, but he did not draw away.

"The problem with you," Yao said, kissing the palm of his hand lovingly. "Is that you're frightened. Not of commitment, not of a relationship, but of hurting your partner, and of being hurt, right?"

Kiku nodded, not responding otherwise. "But there are people who want to be with you," he said, breathing in the scent of Kiku's hair. "Kiku, don't drive me away anymore. Please."

"I don't want to be selfish," Kiku said. Yao moved a hand up to stroke his hair, losing his fingers in it.

"You're not," Yao reassured him, holding him tightly. "So, what do you say?"

"You don't mind?" Kiku asked, looking up at him sadly.

"Of course I don't mind. Just one thing," Yao said.

"Mm?" Kiku blinked, and Yao grinned.

"You owe me a kiss," he said, breathing into Kiku's ear, his voice like silk.

Kiku almost smiled, but as they drew closer, it slipped away. His eyes flicked up to meet Yao's and down to his lips before finally closing, just as Yao pressed his lips against Kiku's own. Kiku leaned into the kiss, all resistance melting away, his fingers tightening around Yao's sleeves. Eventually they parted, hesitant to draw away from the other's warmth. Kiku rested his forehead against Yao's, then shifted so that he was able to rest against him. Yao drew the blanket around them, and together, they slept through the storm.

There was a great deal of fuss when they finally returned to the hotel. Neither was particularly pleased about or receptive to it, and at the first chance they had, retreated to spend the day in each other's company. Yao made sure to send all sorts of threatening eye-signals France's way, until he was sure that the Frenchman knew that his plan had been rumbled. England also found himself taking salt instead of sugar in his tea.

Needless to say, the flight home was very tense.

Summer holidays really were so much fun.

Four months later, Kiku and Yao sat on the veranda of Yao's house, watching the moon. Today had been a long day. They had been shopping and had walked for hours on end. While Kiku had only bought a couple of books, Yao had splashed out, buying a set of dangerously sharp knives, and a nice collection of cutlery and dishes. Despite Kiku's protests, Yao had also not neglected to spend money on him whenever possible, and he now had thousands of small gifts to fit into his suitcase. As far as Kiku was concerned, this was the perfect way to relax after such a busy day.

"It's been a long time since we did this," Yao said, leaning over to take a cup of tea from Kiku and kissing his cheek.

"It has," Kiku said wistfully, sitting beside him and looking up, a small smile on his face. "I feel old now."

Despite all his worries, things had worked out fine. They saw and spoke to each other regularly enough, and although they had fought once or twice, everything had been resolved in the end, and they were still very much in love. "The moon," Yao said, drawing his attention. "It's so bright tonight."

"It's lovely," Kiku replied, then paused as something fell on his head. Confused, he reached up to touch it, discovering it was a rose. "Yao-san, is… there a rose on my head?"

Yao looked at him curiously, but then did a double take. "Yes," he said. "How bizarre." As he reached out to take it, tons of roses fell from the roof, landing on and around them. Yao stood up and spun around, and his eyes widened as Arthur fell from it, landing in a heap in the doorway.

"Why… are you in my house?" Yao asked quietly, a thinly veiled threat present in his voice.

"Be careful, Arthur!" France's voice floated down from the roof.

Kiku's eyes widened as Yao waded through the sea of roses and stepped on Arthur to get into the house, ignoring the 'oomph' of distress as he did so. "Jia Long," Yao called, and Kiku saw him appear in the doorway. "Did you let these two in?"

Jia Long stared at him, and shrugged. "Seemed like fun," he said, simply walking away from Yao's furious glare.

As the door shut behind Jia Long, Alfred and Yi Ling jumped out of nowhere, bursting party poppers and sending streamers everywhere. Kiku looked on in a mix of amazement and apprehension, poking his head round the door curiously. Then confetti fell from the roof too. The sound of shattering porcelain echoed from somewhere in the house. Yi Ling was filming the entire thing.

"Stay here, Kiku," Yao said, staring darkly at the floor. "I'm just going to go and get those cleavers."

A/N: Well, there we have it! I hope this was to your liking, and thank you once again for reading!