Medicine = Magic [RoChu Fanfiction]

Chapter Twenty Two

"Of course Mathwew," Cuba twirled a stray hair before snapping it off at the base, hoping to stop further fidgeting. Canada only just masked a giggle at the way his accent curved around the word, almost enunciating it. It wasn't funny really, just unexpected due to their very sparse use of the names that typically wouldn't be shared around. They were, after all, a very main tie to humanity in many of their people's minds. (This was, of course, because it made them more like the non-representation population, which must have been comforting to them, no matter how small the similarity.)

Cuba rolled the flower between his fingertips again before placing it on the counter, leaning against the air that backed the stool he was perched on with a yawn. Seeming surprised and fittingly worried Canada blinked, sitting up straighter, "are you tired? Should I leave you to go take a nap?"

No matter how nice a nap sounded, Cuba wanted to keep talking to his friend. Plus, he wasn't even that tired. A little jet lag wasn't much, he had endured much worse in the past. Still it was kind of the Canadian to offer him such a thing. (Though wasn't all of what the Canadian did kind?)

"I'm fine," Cuba smiled, patting Canada's hand when the blond pouted, "Seriously."

The North American blew air out of his nose, the sound coming slightly from the left in Cuba's mind. (Perhaps he was tired if he was hearing such odd specifics.) "If you say so," Canada chewed his lip thoughtfully, "if- if you are sure you aren't tired then stay here, but please don't push yourself if you want to sleep..."

"You are too caring," Cuba muttered, the tone of his voice dangerously sad, "someday someone will take advantage of that part of you,"

"Someday," Canada echoed, his words sounding forlorn and yet full of light, "though I do this because it keeps me safe,"

Cuba raised an eyebrow, not minding as his friend slid off of his chair, quickly running over to the other side of the island counter, "it keeps you safe?"

"Yes, of course it does-" Canada laughed, cutting his own statement off with a quick 'do you want some juice or something? I have water and tea too' to which Cuba gestured vaguely to the coffee machine, "it's kept me alive so far,"

His hands flew over the buttons and functions of the small machine, pausing in his speech to focus on the movement. When he was finished he turned back to his dark-haired friend, smiling sadly, "when people can't be trusted you force them to trust you. Past a mutual trust that is all you can do, right?"

Cuba nodded, cheek rested on his hand, "True, and I suppose it's worked for you?"

"If you could not dying yet as 'working' it has," Canada laughed, the tittering sound seeming out of place in their so-suddenly-sad conversation. His feet paced closer, the rubber bottoms of his converse sneakers squeaking against the (apparently) freshly cleaned floor. Cuba's head followed, neither of them speaking out of politeness.

When he was around the counter once more Canada plopped down onto his stool again, the unpleasant noise it may have made quickly covered up by more words, "even if I regret betrayal-" he sighed here, before continuing, sounding almost unrealistically poetic, "-as we resort to in the most dangerous of times- if it means living another day to be truly kind to someone, no matter how little they remember me, I think it's worth it,"

Cuba blinked with a certain agreement, the gentle hum of the coffee maker making up for his inicial silence, "A lot of words to convey the idea that being nice to people is more important than human ties,"

Canada laughed- really, truly laughed, "Well," he stuttered on air, "the two kind of go hand in hand, and being nice to people is human ties-"

Shaking his head with bemusement Cuba half-laughed-half-whispered, "You know I know that Mathew,"