ABOUT VERONA

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It's dinner time, you know in your heart and in your stomach without a doubt that this call of nature can never be wrong. Every day at the crack of dawn and at the perfect hour into the evening, you know food will come in one form or another from the dearest human who cares for you. The dish that will be served each day can never be predicted, even when there is a medium chance of it being the same old dog kibble, a special diet plan just for those dogs of your small stature. Each season may bring a brand new location and world to explore, and each corner of those worlds holds a unique gourmet never tried before.[break][break]

You know that your owner never forgets to feed you, yet your own sense of entitlement and instincts to survive by demanding food at all costs urges you to yip and nudge insistently at your owner's ankles anyway. You follow after her, carefully dodging the large pelted burden she drags behind her with ease, the same large object she takes everywhere and stores her own spares of pelts within. A woven line connects you to her, making sure you'll never lose sight of her as you both traverse this stone cold labyrinth filled with sights and scents telling of adventures far away, and curious strangers stealing a glance at you.[break][break]

"Yes, yes, we're going to have dinner as soon as we find our gate." She knowingly says in response to your prodding, and you don't understand the meaning of her words, but you feel assured that she understood your intentions.[break][break]

The journey comes to an end when your owner, called 'Verona' by other humans like her, rolls her suitcase up beside the end of a long row of plastic seats in an open area surrounded by bright screens with lettering depicted within them. You hop up onto one of the seats and turn to face her expectantly, your excitement growing as she reaches into her luggage. Yes, the food that she acquired and stored away earlier today from that stand outside! Your claws click audibly on the plastic seat as you begin to dance in happiness.[break][break]

You almost can't hold yourself back, but you know that she gets upset at you if you grab at her with your mouth or paws while she's preparing your food, so you try your best to give her space. Brown eyes grow wide, watching her unwrap the food and release the delicious scent of chicken. Soon, she presents the dish before you and sets it down under your forepaws. It's so sweet, so good! You waste not a single breath to immediately chow down on the mixture of meat and seasoning. Human food never ceases to amaze, with all its added flavor and sugars. Your owner takes a seat beside you and sighs contently before gazing at a small glowing device in her hand.[break][break]

Some time passes, and the roaring atmosphere is filled with electronic voice at which your owner takes an alert stance to. It's time to go? You have long finished your dinner and rise to your feet from where you were curled up on the seat beside her, careful not to step in the empty dish. Humans from elsewhere around the room also rose to their feet and began to form lines in the center towards a large closed set of doors. Your owner, still holding the end of your leash, briefly guides you over to where she can dispose of the empty food dish and its clear wrappings into a trash bin, and then she leads you to stand with her at the end of the line of other people.[break][break]

Upon boarding the plane, a short chorus of coos from seated passengers around you is heard. You're well used to the fact that everyone seems to love the sight of you. But now's not the time for accepting some nice pets, for you must protect your owner to her destination. Eventually your owner finds the seat you both were assigned, and there is enough space under the seat in front of hers for you to sit tight during this flight while she stores her luggage in the area above. [break][break]

All of the passengers must have boarded now, as the giant aircraft begins to move, and you dig your claws into the carpet under you to hold on tight. You can faintly hear your owner speaking words of encouragement to you. Suddenly gravity pulls at your entire being, adrenaline coursing through your veins with no release from the assault on your senses. It always lasts longer than you remembered it last time, and feels just as bad as you remember. But then finally, the moment fades away, and you're several thousand or so meters above the ground. You hear her voice and open your eyes to see her patting the surface of her legs, as it is now permitted for you to leave your spot and sit on her lap, and you pounce at her without hesitation. From here on out for a while, it is smooth sailing, and your owner, your only friend and family member, will never leave you or let you get hurt. This, you decide, is well worth it all.[break][break]

"we have arrived at our destination: seattle, washington. thank you for choosing seattle international airport."

Returning home alongside your dear shiba inu companion from your most recent trip abroad to Germany, you have plenty of time to think ahead to an assorted many types of reunions with the place you grew up in. Old elementary, middle, and high schools, your parents' house, the shops you grew up very familiar with... You had a good upbringing, kind parents who raised you well, and you sometimes noticed how your family happened to be one with some status and fortunes to its name. Something like that never kept you from living a carefree, yet earnest and hard working life.[break][break]

You always dreamed of traveling to foreign countries, and you took every chance to make those goals a reality, going as far as to major in a subject like international relations that would allow you to travel the world as much as possible. Your parents were well known political leaders, but they never pressured you into heavy politics like themselves. Even if they wanted you to at least be well versed in the state of this country's political struggles, you preferred to just ignore all that corrupt drama and cast your sights overseas.[break][break]

You never had anyone pestering you to go out and vote because you always managed to find yourself far away in another country when voting season came around. You considered yourself lucky, even if you low-key knew it was self-centered of you to think like that. It wasn't like you hated your country of birth residence, you simply felt it excusable to distance yourself from all the politics, all that corruption. Never taking sides, only watching from the sideline, and then leaving it to everyone else to figure out. Surely no one had the right to blame you for refusing to take a side?[break][break]

Of course, not taking a side meant making both sides your enemy. It was common sense, and you shouldn't have been so naive as to think you could avoid stepping on everyone's toes. Coward.[break][break]

"hey, i know your face! your parents are those big politicians! you've got some info on them for sure!"

...Or something along those lines. You don't remember what they were saying, why they were blocking your escape one day as you walked back to your apartment one dark evening in the winter season, completely alone and defenseless. All you know is that you were frantically pleading that you know nothing about the political war in America, had nothing to do with any of this, and didn't want to take anyone's side. They did not listen, and treated you like a criminal to be apprehended. You were too blinded by panic to comprehend what was going on. It was really more like, you were to be held as a prisoner of some aggressive, secretive gang.[break][break]

They wanted information out of you that you didn't have, and you came pretty close to being tortured for that secret information too. But... then there was confusion, and disorder among the strangers who were supposedly in charge of your imprisonment. Did you hear correctly? Your capture was a mistake? Could you be released and allowed to go free now? You weren't sure. It seemed like the ones who captured you didn't know what to do with you now. You held onto the thread of hope that you could go home.[break][break]

You have only two choices: Join and swear fealty to the revolution, or die. No one can know they exist. And even against all of your survival instincts telling you it'd be ridiculous to become a martyr for nothing, your own stubbornness just refuses to join these people. That would be taking sides. That might even be taking sides against your parents. Would they one day make you commit crimes and take the lives of other people? They get furious when you exclaim that the "corruption" in the government is none of your business. You stubbornly resist entering the political conflict like some kind of idiotic political pacifist. Your naivety irritates them to no end, and at this point you suddenly realize that it wouldn't be too surprising if they killed you, like was promised. But death never came.[break][break]

To stay a prisoner, perhaps on the condition that you might rethink your choice in the future and become useful to them either through your knowledge of your parents' work, or perhaps your own connections overseas. You weren't really aware that the member who captured you and took you here without permission from his leader had, with some degree of effort, insisted that your death penalty could be avoided, if not delayed. All you knew was that you were alive. Even if it meant living as a prisoner, as long as you were alive, maybe you could manage to persist for the time being.

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call me

SHIZUKA

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