Trust is Dangerous- Russia x Germany

The Barn and the Little Things

"The barn," Russia pointed to the distant figure, a brown speck among the white mounds. We had been walking for some time now, and the scenery changed from the tall and stubborn pines to a quiet birch forest, and now the last stretch of leafless trees were behind us. As we came closer, I wondered why everyone referred to the place as the 'barn'. It certainly wasn't one. It was more of a ramshackle cabin, complete with windows, a doorstep, and a chimney. To my best guess, it took is about an hour and a half to reach this destination. We moved at a relatively fast pace, and I silently thanked Russian Empire for not coming. He would probably be complaining by now.

"This is kind of far," I commented.

"A little," Russia looked at the building. "But we used to come here so often...it's like reliving childhood."

"Mm, I understand,"

"We used to come here every summer till I went to secondary school." He added. "Then we didn't have time or we went somewhere else. I also took summer jobs and internships, so this place was basically forgotten." My suspicions of it being a cabin were correct. USSR stepped onto the creaky raised platform that was sort of a porch and fished out his keys, counting and recounting them till he found the correct one. After rotating it in the lock twice and an eye roll from Russia later, he rammed his side into the door to open it. The smell of old things coated my nose. USSR sneezed from the dusty atmosphere and quickly opened a window to let the particles out. The wooden floor was covered in an ornate green carpet, and the couch, hard backed wooden chairs and thin silken shades were all dim hues of green. The opposite side facing the windows had a large Soviet flag hung from the wall. USSR hummed to himself as he fed logs into the sparks of fire. I noticed that he liked to make fires instead of relying on a heat system in regular houses. Soon enough, the place was warm and cosy. I tiptoed into the room adjacent, and was surprised to see two walls covered in bookshelves of old books. An animal skin was draped on the wood floor. A stool stood in the corner near a little window.

"Isn't this place nice?" Belarus came in. "Russia so loves it here."

"Seems to be," I said, when Russia came in and opened the window. He had a smile on his face, one that was light and happy. He led me though the small rooms of the house, describing in detail what he liked and didn't about each one. The last room had a beautiful plafond with a pattern almost like a rug.

"This one is one of the nicest," he showed me the plafond with pride. "It took months to set this in."

"Did this use to be your home?" I asked.

"Not really," he clarified. "When our old home was demolished, we had to rebuild it. Hence, we lived here for a bit. I got attached to this place and begged father to not chop it up for wood. As you can see, he heeded. Now he's glad that he did."

"Why do you call it the barn?"

"Its kind of like a code name. Sort of like the house is called the Nest. It's not a secret or anything, but we've gotten so used to calling it that, why stop?"

"Oh, I kind of thought we'd be going to an actual barn..."

"We have those, but not too many. Around the middle region, mostly. But that's way too far away to go on foot. We haven't even reached the southern border."

"Large territory," I remarked.

"Yes, father likes his space. Especially after the war. He increased his territory size by thirty hectares more. We don't know why, but whatever. I don't mind it. I like the isolated lands."

"I see why you don't like the city then," I laughed.

"Now you understand," he nodded. "Too noisy. You'll see when we come back. The noise will be unbelievable."