Trust is Dangerous- Russia x Germany

Socialism vs Socialising

I came out of the engineering class quickly, not trying to talk to anyone. I thanked Russia without emotion and when he responded, I dashed out of the class. I think my behaviour scared Japan and worried Russia, but I also had a life to think about. I initially came into the class late because I wanted to do something before...I needed to meet somebody. I thought that our meeting would take a five minutes, not longer, but it stretched out into thirty. I was asked by Japan what happened, and I snapped at her very unexpectedly from the amount of irritation I was feeling. I wanted to say sorry afterward, but didn't have the energy. I'll apologise later. What actually happened was I met my grandfather. For me, it was consciously my first time. I haven't seen him for years, the last time was when I was about six months old. When Russia said that he took a class with him, I was surprised and intrigued. I vowed that the next day, I would find him and maybe talk. I couldn't sleep that night and I felt very cheery that morning. I even worked with Russia on an assignment in English. He looked very lost, and seemed to make some stuff up as he went, but I took it in stride. At least he used literary devices, so I didn't press any further. To be honest, the book that we were reading, The Water on the Wood, was very dry, slow paced and primarily focused on feelings and nuance, rather than dialogue and description. I had a feeling that Russia would rather have died than decipher the meaning behind the book. I left the class and throughout the day, I asked my professors if they knew where Mr. German Empire could be found. After my Biology class, Profesor España or Professor Spain showed me where I could find him and walked down with me. He said that he needed to conduct his Spanish class there anyway.

"Alemania," he laughed. "You already know German. Why do you need him?"

"I just...um. I don't know." I shrugged. "I wanted to talk to somebody in German..." I partially lied to him. I didn't want my teacher to connect two and two. Good for me, he didn't press further.

"Ah, I see." He nodded, though in his maple coloured eyes, I could see that he knew I was lying. We walked down to the language hall and he pointed to the hall on the left, and told me to take care.

"Bye!" I thanked him.

"Adios niño." He waved and turned the corner. I tried to slow down by speeding heart and swift feet and I stood behind the open door to the office, doubting myself. I could definitely hear him inside. It was definitely German. I bit my lip and looked inside. The small classroom with a circular table gave off a non threatening feel, while the top of the walls sported heater vents, pulsing warmth into the room. A rectangular desk at the head of the classroom was occupied by a very tall man in a grey suit and white tie. That could only be my grandfather. Though he didn't look particularly old, he was busily copying steps from a 'Computer for Dummies' book and implementing them on the screen. On the desk stood a couple of globe paperweights, some folders, what I guessed was his old war helmet, and a glass of tea. He didn't turn to me yet, but I could see that his black, white and red face looked tired. I carefully stepped into the classroom and quietly knocked on the doorframe. I could clearly hear my heart beating audibly, and the more time I observed him, the faster it became.

"Mmm, ja?" He turned to face me, his eyes the last to turn. After they did, we looked at each other for a long time. He didn't move or speak, but his dark orange gaze travelled all across me. He then craned his neck slowly forward, squinting and his mouth turned into a frown. "Deutschland? Bis..bist du das?"

"Ja. Ich bin es." He looked up at something on the ceiling, sighed loudly and then smiled. I didn't know what to do, so I just stayed silent while he did what he needed. Right at that moment, he was laughing. It was very, very awkward.

"Deutschland! I cannot believe it, you're here! Alive and well!" He finally stood up, in all his height and hugged me. He was probably a bit smaller than USSR, but I became not used to tall people over the last three months. I hugged him back, and had the urge to cry. Did he think I died? Is that what everyone thought? I was very upset for my grandfather, whom probably felt lonely and sad that all of his relatives either left him geographically or life wise.