Zubicu- a Hetalia fanfic.

Chapter 35

"Zubicu!! I haven't seen you forever. I heard what happened between you and Russia. You OK?" she asks. I giggle.

"Good, good, thanks. I healed quickly. How are you? I haven't heard any news from you recently." I say.

"Oh, you won't believe it!! Business is booming over here!! We've invented more types of aeroplanes, and the other countries love 'em!" she chimes. I smile.

"Good for you! We're doing well in the sword industry over here." I say. "Kitunas are selling well, too."

"Great! I heard of that new technology you're able to use on those trees to get them to grow whenever you want." she says.

"No, just year-round. If I could grow them whenever I wanted I'd have a lot more than I do now, trust me." I say, laughing.

We chat for a while longer before she has to go. I hang up and decide to take Sukrutra for a walk. I call the huge mohran form the back garden as I walk out the front door, wearing my satchel and war belt with swords equipped as usual. I don't go anywhere without all the pieces of equipment I had on me for the escape when England and that idiot Japan were at war. She lies down on her front, her legs tucked beneath her, and I climb up onto her back. She then stands up and walks off.

I shuffle along until I'm sitting on her shoulders, and swing my leg over so I'm sitting like I would on a horse. I grip the fur in front of me and use it as a sort of steering device, telling Sukrutra which way to go by pulling one fistful gently to the left, the other one to the right, pushing forwarss or pulling backwards, and so on. To my delight she obeys my orders to the letter. I nudge her fur forward and she breaks into a full-blown run, racing down to road to the park. I laugh, enjoying the feel of the wind in my hair, for once not being in fear of anything or anyone.

When we reach the park, I slow her down and dismount. I pull a basketball out of my satchel. It's worn, but I made a hole in it at one point, filled it with stuffing, and sewed the hole back up again. That way it won't burst. I look at my huge pet and smile, tossing it in my hands before hitting it up in the air. "Catch!" I call.

She laughs and catches it in her jaws before handing it back to me. I laugh too, taking it from her jaws, and throw it up again, watching as it spiralls high into the air, at one point going in front of my view of the sun, before falling back down and landing neatly in her jaws. Once again, I take it from her, and repeat the motion, constantly smiling.

Whenever she misses, I run to fetch it as it runs away from me. When I pick it up and turn round, holding it to my chest like I'm about to do a chest pass, I look at her to see her cheeks are red through her fur. That makes me laugh again as I throw the ball at her. She headbutts it back to me, and I catch it. We both look at each other, smiling, before continuing that new game.

Interacting in this manner feels strange. I don't normally play unless it's playfighting. If I ever interact with my pet that's beyond petting, talking to, or walking her, it's training, which is a serious business. But playing, much less throw-and-catch, feels foreign to me.

I wonder if I should ask the others to play someday. It'd certainly be fun. Both of us just keep smiling as we play throw-and-catch, and talk about random stuff. If one of us fails to catch the ball- or in Sukrutra's case, headbutt it back to me- I'll run to go and catch it. So we both get our exercise, and in a way it's still training. As I play ball with my pet, I get a good chance to see what she's become.

She's certainly changed a lot. She has streaks of brown in her once gold fur, the same colour as my hair, which I find both strange and disturbing at first, but soon dismiss as coincidence. Whereas she was once around the same size as a wolf, she's now the size of a horse; that was a loose judgement before, but now it's certain she's that big. She still has the body structure and shape of a wolf and at first glance, you could easily mistake her for being just a very oversized one. Her eyes are a fascinating light blue-green, which I will admit I've never seen before in a mohran. Her paws still have those black socks on them, though, which relaxes me. At least there's something about her that's familiar.