Trust is Dangerous- Russia x Germany

A Different Path

This Germany character. I finally figured out who he is. At the time I thought he was a shy looking, too intelligent, too proper and too organised person. I had some doubts about him when he stepped in our engineering class, but I let that slide when Japan asked him to come with us to the park nearby. I trusted Japan's senses of who was an okay person and who wasn't, so I went with the flow. When we were there I asked him, to make sure if my suspicion is correct. They were. He was the son of Third Reich, that man who betrayed father and killed many people for his own cause. It wasn't the fact that he was this dictator's son was what angered me, it was the fact that he stayed silent about it. It was immoral to stay silent about that, he should have at least mentioned it. Then he tried to defend himself afterward! I then found out the next day where father was going all that time. To take care of him! Weren't his own children important?

"Russia, stop muttering down there." Iceland snickered. It was the evening and I haven't talked to Iceland or Japan through the whole day after our encounter with Germany. They were worried at first, but then figured out that I was in a mood and played along, talking to me as if I was going to answer. "Come on, talk to me."

"Hmm." I protested. It was the evening and we had already finished our assignments and ate dinner. Iceland helped me with my English work and I returned the favour by looking over his maths. Both of us made a huge amount of mistakes, him with his calculations and me with grammar. The best part was I did it in total silence. I never uttered a word and let Iceland finish my thoughts for me. It was hard, a bit frustrating but we allowed through and now he was just trying to do what my father did for years: coaxing.

"Come on." Iceland begged. "I'll do anything. Please, drop it."

"Hmm." I kept on. He was getting desperate. Nice.

"Please Russia." He hung his head over the bottom of his bunk to look down on me. "What's wrong? Tell me. I'm your friend, don't you trust me?"

"Ah." I sighed. "Fine. You got me."

"Yay." Iceland flipped himself upright and climbed down to face me. He looked at me and I gestured that he could sit next to me. He nodded back in appreciation and did so, the bed springs creaking with accumulation to the new weight. "So what's up? Why did you stay silent all that time and didn't even say why?"

"I was...it's very childish actually." I admitted. The more I thought about what I did, the more sheepish I felt. I had a valid argument, but not a valid reason to behave the way I did. Not that I would admit it. Maybe I would tell Iceland, but not Japan and definitely not to that Germany. I don't trust them as much. Especially him.

"It's okay," Iceland rubbed my back with his right hand. "But you must've had a reason to do so. What is it?"

"Ah well, you see, Germany is the Third Reich's son." I started.

"We all knew that from the start. But go on."

"And when he died or got killed or whatever his lands were taken to be split up by the victors. My father got a piece of it too. That's just some backstory. My father; Britain; France and America all had guardianship rights over Germany, the boy, not the land, as well. Britain was too busy drinking tea and yelling at America, France was too busy baking, reading and drinking wine, while America was a bit underage to actually care for someone. Naturally, my father took this kid in. He didn't tell me, or any of my siblings about it. He just kept his mouth shut, got a place, registered him in a school and came to him to take care of him, while I had to run around the house, figuring out things like, "what to give Kazakhstan for his nettle rash?" or "what do I make for dinner that isn't what we had yesterday, but is cheap, versatile and enough to sustain nutrition as well as be enough to stretch till the next day?". He didn't have those problems, like what if father doesn't come home? What am I supposed to do? I got depressed sometimes, and nobody helped me. I asked my father where he was going once and I got a crisp slap across the face for it. Now I know why. How am I not supposed to be mad?"