Trust is Dangerous- Russia x Germany

To Where We Belong

It's been a long two weeks. It felt like a long time. Now since we had two days left, the new year's past, all we had to look forward to was leaving home, back to our university. I was patiently waiting outside of the house next to father's car observing the hawks that circled above our yard, yearning to catch the chickens in their pen. The sky was high but grey, and no particular clouds could be seen. There was a furious wind, and I felt my shoulders rise to shield myself from the gale. Father was smoking again and Germany was taking his time in the bathroom. As usual. Kazakhstan was sitting on the hood of the car, playing with a string in boredom. I couldn't believe we were already leaving. It felt heart breaking to leave. Grandfather left yesterday with a regal air. He regained most of it over the last few minutes of his time with us and then left on his gold coach. I had to admit that he wasn't the type of grandfather to go out of his way for us, go fishing or bake cookies, but he cared. That's really all that matters. The wind blew the smell of smoke in my face, and covered me in the noxious fumes for a moment. I could hear behind me Kazakhstan's weak coughing from the vapours. He wasn't really used to them yet like I was.

"I'm here," Germany shut the double doors of the entrance, almost tripping down the steps.

"We'll be going shortly," I said to him, mentioning towards father, who still was watching the hawks in the air.

"It feels like we came here just yesterday."

"Mm, not really."

"Maybe to you," he nodded. "But it went by fast for me."

I shrugged in response. "I guess." Kazakhstan got off of the roof with a slide and landed on the other side of the car. Ukraine came by with headphones on and said a curt goodbye to Germany and hugged me. Belarus did the same. We would be going two days early for travel time and to get adjusted to the time zone switch as well as the environment before studies start back up. As much as I didn't want to leave father and the rest of the family, but on the other hand, at campus I had freedom, no boundaries, and no barring, as well as the ability to follow my passion and desired profession. When I confided in my grandfather, he supported my career switch, though I secretly wondered if he was just doing it to undermine father. I don't think I have the drive or work ethic or valour to go work at a machine in a roaring factory all day long. It became too noisy, too fast and too dangerous for me. I haven't told my father about what I wanted to do yet. He would laugh at first of course, but them would go cursing in a corner.

"Ready?" Father materialised next to me, unlocking the car.

"To step into the unknown," I answered.

He smiled and got in the car. "That's what I need to hear."

"Bye Russia," Kazakhstan whispered, little tears in his eyes. He was composed for most of the day, but hugged he tightly with a protective ferocity. "You'll come back right?"

"In a half year," I promised. He nodded and wiped his tears on my shirt. He waved to Germany next.

"Bye bye Ger-man-ee." He said and then ducked behind Ukraine, unable to watch us leave. All three of them stood outside till we were beyond what the eye could see. The dirt road flashed before our eyes as father doubled his speed and the car accelerated twice the normal rate. The small patch of forest evaporated before our eyes since the pace of the car was so great. When we reached the outpost village, we veered onto a shosse and entered the open road. Father turned on the radio, and the quiet music of an accordion and guitar seeped into the silent vehicle. Germany stared at the peisage going by, the reflections shining off his glasses lens. He turned to me and mouthed an unintelligible sentence.

He tried again. "Do you think anyone else will be there? Or will we be the only ones?"

"I have no idea." I shrugged. "We're always late with stuff, I want to have a chance to experience being early."