Ameripangled

"Kiku? Darling, wake up." Mother Kim gently shook her daughter awake. She didn't know how, but somehow Kiku had been able to paint the ceiling in this room, too. How she got up there, Mother Kim would never know. With so much time on the girl's hands, though, anything was possible.

"Hmm?" Kiku hummed, her voice muffled by a pillow. She was still groggy from staying up late, secretly reading Mother Kim's collection of language books, brushing up and learning even more of the western language in the Kingdom of Hetalia. Mother Kim did not know this, but Kiku was becoming quite fluent with thirteen years of practice (and an aid Mother Kim did not know about). "Is it morning already?"

Mother Kim ignored her and examined Kiku's midnight blue hair. At almost eighteen years, it had grown far longer than Mother Kim ever imagined hair could grow. It as impossibly long, and it was a giant hassle, but Mother Kim could not risk any of that hair (or that power) being lost. Kiku's bangs had been cut during her short time as a princess, and they were dull and black and had not grown since.

Ugh. The girl needed to stop sleeping on her back with all that hair. It tangled too easily. "Kiku, what did I say about sleeping on your back?"

Kiku, somewhat awake, sighed. "Never to do it," she replied automatically. "I'm sorry, Ohmohni."

Oh, those eyes. They were so big and brown and innocent, and Mother Kim fell for them. "It's okay, darling," she reassured, patting Kiku's head. "Just don't let it happen again. You know how hard it is to brush all of this out."

"I know, Ohmohni," Kiku agreed, the obedient daughter she was. "I can fix it myself."

"No, no, darling." I can do it," Mother Kim protested. "Draw a bath, will you?"

Kiku nodded. "Ye, Ohmohni," she said, getting up quickly. All part of the daily routing. Mother Kim would wake Kiku in the morning, Kiku would take a bath, and Mother Kim would leave the tower down Kiku's long hair to get groceries. Then it was up to Kiku to do her chores before Mother Kim god back. She wondered if her mother was acting so normal this particular morning, the morning before her eighteenth birthday, because she was getting a surprise for Kiku.

"Kiku!" Mother Kim shrieked. "Stop the water before it overflows!"

Huh? Kiku looked down at the tub to see that it was on the verge of spilling over the edge. "Oh! Sorry, Ohmohni!" she apologized. "I don't know where I am this morning."

"Clearly not here, dear, or this wouldn't have happened," Mother Kim sang. Her teasing was harsh, but Kiku knew that was how she showed affection.

Kiku just sighed and stripped out of her nightclothes, then stepped into the tub of warm water, letting the warmth surround her. This was nice. She'd stay here all day if she could.

Mother Kim, brush in hand, gently stroked the dark blue strands until they were tangle-free. Meanwhile, Kiku lathered and rinsed her body as per usual. Over the years she noticed all of her changes, and Mother Kim was able to answer each of her questions.

Today, however, Mother Kim was observing Kiku quite closely, and this made Kiku uncomfortable. "Is… something wrong?" she asked, her body unconsciously tensing.

"Nothing," Mother Kim reassured, brushing Kiku's extremely long hair. "What are you going to do today, dear?"

"Well… my chores, for one," Kiku started hesitantly. Mother Kim never asked her about her day or what she would do. She probably didn't care, just as long as Kiku never left the tower.

"No, no, no… I meant, what are you going to do after that?"

Her tenderness was scaring Kiku. Mother Kim was aggressive, not nice and sweet all day, every day. And her questions were making Kiku very nervous.

"I'll… probably paint wherever there's room," she said slowly. "If you don't mind, of course, Ohmohni," she quickly added. "And… probably finish the dress I started to make a few weeks ago."

"Ah yes, the dress." Mother Kim smiled and set down the brush. "Kiku… face me for a second, will you darling?"

Kiku nodded, and turned slowly toward Mother Kim obediently. She hated when her mother evaluated her body. It made her feel exposed and looked down upon, like a small creature under the watchful eye of a predator.

"Hmm…" Mother Kim's eyes moved up and down, analyzing. "Hmm…"

It's just for a dress, it's just for a dress, it's just for a dress. Kiku bit her lip, averting her eyes from Mother Kim's gaze.

"Have you finished the bust?" Mother Kim asked.

Kiku nodded slowly. "Ye, Ohmohni."

She gasped as Mother Kim suddenly reached forward and groped her breasts. Kiku hated this. Mother Kim had some weird obsession with the female body (Kiku evaluated this when she found Mother Kim's anatomy book. It was quite fascinating, but also quite… revealing and graphic), especially with breasts. Kiku may have only been erudite, but even she knew that was abnormal.

"You've grown," Mother Kim observed casually, and Kiku blushed. She withdrew her grabby hands, and Kiku turned around, advancing to wash her scalp as Mother Kim started to wash the rest of her hair. Kiku never understood how Mother Kim could just know whenever she grew. Quite frankly, it was creepy.

"You might want to adjust the bust a bit," Mother Kim suggested, her hands soothing Kiku's impossibly long hair, "or your breasts will be compressed and spill over the neckline, which I've seen is low."

"Who would see me?" Kiku mumbled, bringing her knees up to her chin. "What's the point?"

"Kiku." Mother Kim's voice was firm. "What have I said about the mumbling? It's unattractive, and a disgusting habit."

"Sorry," Kiku said with a bit more aggressiveness than intended. "I'm just… tired. Besides, the bust is already adjustable. It's a simple corset."

Mother Kim smirked, working down that blue mane as best as she could. So much hair… "Good girl. I've taught my flower well," she bragged.

"Joy," Kiku deadpanned, sighing.

"Kiku," Mother Kim repeated. "Sarcasm is almost as disgusting as mumbling. Now stop it. What's gotten into you?"

It had to be the restlessness. Mother Kim feared Kiku's recent years, knowing teenage habits. For some odd reason, they always needed to… rebel. Scolding Kiku was not enough, she knew, but physical punishment would only entail more rebellion, perhaps even escape. And Mother Kim could not have that.

"Never mind." Mother Kim shook her head. "Perhaps singing would help you feel better. It's obvious you woke up on the wrong side of the bed, my dear, and now you're taking out your aggressions on your poor, old mother. You need to learn to release anger in a positive way."

Mother Kim could not see Kiku roll her eyes. Sure, she loved the woman who raised her with her heart and soul, but Mother Kim was always treating her like a child. She was past proper marrying age. Surely she was a woman now.

Women thought for themselves, she once read, but yet they always obeyed men. What made men superior? she wondered. Not that she would know; Kiku had yet to encounter one, no matter how much she studied their mannerisms and physical buildup in Mother Kim's books.

Not wanting to fight so early, Kiku lifted her head a bit and sang the special song to Mother Kim. She always felt so content when the sensation of her glowing hair began to take effect. It was like nothing in the world was wrong.

~~~~~

"Kiku!" Mother Kim called as Kiku finished dressing. She particularly liked this dress; it was simple and easy to maneuver in. Mother Kim insisted on puffs for the sleeves, but Kiku refused, and sewed plain, elbow-length sleeves instead. The skirt only reached her calves so it wouldn't drag on the floor when she did her chores, and it was laced in the front instead of the back. It was nice, it was practical, and Kiku loved wearing it.

Mother Kim, however, did not. "Kiku, you wear that dress so often, yet you have so many you've made," she lamented when Kiku emerged from her room.

"I like it, Ohmohni," Kiku defended, smoothing her skirt. "It's practical for when I do my chores. I promise I'll change later." But she had no intention of doing so.

"That's fine, that's fine." Mother Kim was clearly uninterested now as she grabbed her basket, empty for the moment. It would be filled with groceries in a few hours, Kiku knew. Perhaps a surprise for her birthday, even. "Just remember your chores before anything recreational."

Kiku nodded obediently, fetching Mother Kim's cloak and draping it over her shoulders. "I know, Ohmohni." She wised she had a sophisticated dress like Mother Kim's, deep red with a plunging neckline and wide sleeves. But she knew if she ever made such a dress, Mother Kim would forbid her from ever wearing it. She sighed quietly at this realization and took her place by the large window, Kiku's only "door" and outlook to the world. She draped her long hair over the overhanging hook and down the tall tower, where it ended just a few feet off the ground.

Mother Kim kissed her cheek and took a hold of Kiku's hair. "I'll be back in a few hours, my flower. I love you very much."

Kiku smiled. "I love you more," she said automatically.

Mother Kim gave a fond grin and easily slid down Kiku's freshly washed hair. "I love you most," she called.

It was so weird that the world was in her grasp, that she could leave if she wanted to. But she didn't know where she'd go. She didn't know the kingdom, and Mother Kim would be furious.

She gasped. She was daydreaming! She had to get work done.

"Meimei!" she called around the tower. "She's gone!"

Silence. Nothing. No movement.

"Hmm…" So, she was playing games. Well, count Kiku in.

She looked everywhere around the tower, but Meimei was nowhere to be found. Kiku even looked in Mother Kim's room, somewhere Meimei refused to go.

Meimei was Kiku's companion, a secret friend Mother Kim did not know about. The poor mochi found herself in Mother Kim's basket one day, and at the top of the tower, there was no way she could get down. Kiku hid her and took care of her, and Meimei helped Kiku with her chores and gave her someone to talk to.

Hey, the window wasn't closed when Kiku had left it. She smirked.

"Ha!" She slammed the window open, but no Meimei. But Kiku had looked everywhere else…

She switched her language to the one from the western kingdom, something she did often with Meimei. Kiku ran a hand through her hair. "Hmm… I guess Meimei isn't out here either…" She walked away from the window, wait for it…

A giggle.

Like lightning, Kiku used a few strands of her hair, threw it out the window, and scooped Meimei up. "Gotcha!" she cried, laughing. "So, you feel like playing games today?"

Meimei pouted, and Kiku put her down on the ledge.

Kiku sighed. "Well then, what would you like to do?" she asked, sitting on the ledge as well.

Smiling, Meimei faced out the window. Like Kiku, she also wanted to get out of the tower, but she was more willing to go.

"I don't think so." Kiku picked up the mochi. "I like it in there, and so do you." It was more like a she was reassuring herself it was fine to be locked up in a tower for eighteen years.

Meimei stuck her tongue out at Kiku.

Kiku just rolled her eyes. The more she thought about it, the more she knew she was safe and comfortable in her tower. "Come on, Meimei," she reassured, "it's not so bad in there."

Oh… the chores! Kiku suddenly remembered. She leaped off the ledge of the window and into the center of the tower. She hated that Mother Kim liked to keep everything dark. Kiku needed light to do the things she loved best. She lassoed her hair to the windows she could not reach to open them. With so much time and so much hair, she learned she could use her hair almost like an extended hand or a rope (with plenty of practice, of course).

Grabbing the broom, she saw that it was a little past seven in the morning. A little late, but it was still time for the usual morning line up. Kiku gathered her hair and placed it on surfaces off the ground as she swept, polished, waxed, shined-up, and swept again.

She looked at the clock again. Barely any time had passed! Which meant there was more time to do what she wanted, This morning, she realized she had finished Mother Kim's entire collection of language books. She might as well reread them and practice speaking and writing.

By the fifth volume, though, Kiku was bored. Perhaps a touch-up on her new paintings? The bluebirds on the ceiling weren't vibrant enough.

Kiku sighed as the bluebirds popped out more in color. Now what?

A few strums on the guitar, a knitted scarf, and a baked pie later, Kiku was still bored. These were the same things she had done every day for eighteen years. The same mundane, boring, lifeless things that made Kiku wonder when her life would begin.

Hey, wait… Kiku noticed above the mantelpiece there was blank wallspace. She closed her eye and measured her canvas with her thumb. It was a perfectly nice size for her new idea in mind.

Immediately Kiku went off to painting, getting her ideas on her wall canvas down perfectly. Maybe Mother Kim would like it, Kiku reasoned as Meimei smiled at her.

After lunch, Kiku solved some puzzles Mother Kim had with Meimei and bakes some cookies, enough for three mouths. They both ate some while playing a friendly game of chess (though Kiku always won).

Then she remembered another chore: Mother Kim wanted Kiku to make some candles, since the current ones were about to give out. Her legs felt stiff after sitting around all that wax, so she stood and stretched, then noticed that her new painting needed something… more. Grabbing her paints, she ran back up to the mantle and added a few more details.

Her muscles were still firm. Sighing from lack of space, Kiku lassoed her hair around one of the tower's many ledges and used her hair as a climbing rope. When she was younger, Kiku used this as a way to get over her fear of heights, in case she ever left the tower.

Reaching the top like she had just yesterday, Kiku decided she should finish the dress Mother Kim was so eager to observe. She slid down her hair (which was getting tangled again after all that activity) and took out her sewing supplies. As she retrieved the unfinished dress, she noticed Meimei had already set up her needle and thread.

Kiku smiled, then sat, determined to finish that dress today.

It ended up taking much less time than Kiku anticipated. What could she do now? She looked around the tower, desperate. Nothing seemed appealing, but the language books could help her pass the time again. She supposed she could have tried on the dress, but she wasn't in the mood.

Kiku collapsed on her bed and started reading again.

Some time passed, though not much, and she could not remember a time when she'd ever been so bored.

She could always paint, which usually eased her boredom, but the entire tower was already covered with Kiku's various pieces throughout the years.

Not even room to paint, she lamented. I'm so bored I could brush my hair a hundred times just so time passes by.

Actually, the thought wasn't so bad.

Despite her ideas, though, Kiku only had enough stamina to brush her long, blue hair once. She sighed, figuring it was enough for now.

Meimei eyed her skeptically. Kiku had never been so unhappy by her life until now. All she wanted to do was experience something new and different.

Kiku gathered up her hair in her hands, facing the mochi. "I'll just keep wondering," she said, tossing her hair to one corner on the circular room, so bored she was now going to measure her hair. "And wondering, and wondering, and wondering." By now, the hair circled the room twice and Kiku, exasperated, just tossed the rest of it up and let it circle her three times more.

"When will my life begin?" she asked, hoping that perhaps someone, anyone, would give her an answer.

Meimei pouted sympathetically, perched on the window's ledge. Kiku approached her, her eyes dreamy. "Oh, but just wait for tomorrow night!" she exclaimed breathily, looking out the window, wanting to be outside. "The lights will appear, just like they do each year on my birthday." She turned to Meimei. "I wonder what it's like to be there, to see them glowing."

Kiku glanced around and spotted the painting she'd just done of those magical, floating lights. Come to think of it, the painting was still missing something…

"Now that I'm older, perhaps Mother will let me go," she hoped, finishing inserting herself into her newest piece.