Trust is Dangerous- Russia x Germany

The Elitist

To be frank, I didn't expect Russia to be so poetic with his words. I was even more appalled at his ability to see right through me, in ways I've never even seen myself. He didn't mention our little talk afterwards to Japan and America, who asked where we've been.

"Looking at more five year old drawings," Russia responded. America rolled his eyes.

"But mine doesn't look that bad, right?"

"Sure," Russia smiled. "Keep telling yourself that." America pouted, but regained his carefree step soon enough when we reached the end of the gallery, where there were mostly strange and otherworldly sculptures here and there out on an open terrace. We stalled near the doors.

"Well, that was nice," Japan said, fanning herself with the map of the exhibition. "Though they could turn in air conditioning. The spotlights emit a lot of heat."

"Mhmm," Russia nodded in passive agreement, even though he had a fur hat on. "I felt a little elitist just going around and staring at paint on walls."

"Really? It's a cultural thing!" America turned around, taking off his feathered hat and fanning himself. "Everyone does it at least once!"

"Well, I looked at paintings before. Just, they were expressions something. People, an event, a scene,"

"It can portray emotion," Japan interjected.

"Yes, well..." it see me like Russia wanted to agree, but didn't. We walked out onto the large terrace with many plants and sculptures everywhere. The night had swallowed the sun already, and the numerous lights around campus glimmered in the dark. "...as you might have noticed, I'm not used to this type of lifestyle."

"I get it," America perched his sunglasses on top of his head. If he was going to be serious, his outfit didn't help him. Half of the people around us seemed impressed, others, like Russia, were wearing expressions ranging from pure disgust to 'is that guy seriously wearing a bird costume?'. "I mean, I'm sympathetic to your change of environment. Not that I can relate." We talked a bit about grades, exams, and which teacher was most boring while the night became blacker, and the stars came out. The string lights came to life, and sparkled like fairies around us. 

"Who would take history?" Japan asked. We were in the middle of discussing the subject. "As a major, of course."

"Only more history professors!" America answered enthusiastically. "Nothing out there for that."

"It's important and all, but to study it that deeply? Never," Russia agreed.

"Speaking of deeply, what do you all think about seminar?"

"I've heard of it from many, many people. But they never say what it is," Russia tipped his head to the side. "Do you know?"

"Unfortunately, I take it." America sighed. "It's very boring. We've gotten so low that our professor assigns us petty 'friendship between people' essays. Most of my classmates are fourth years, and they just don't care. My roommate is in that class too. He uses it for sleep."

"It's that boring?" I asked, incredulous.

"It gets worse towards the end." he nodded. "At first, there's no grade. Then, in the middle, we start to get grades. Too bad for all our fourth years. They have this stupid grade and their end of year project."

"Sounds tough," Japan frowned.

"Well, you are in the best university in the world," he told her. "So it has to be harder than others. Mind you, I'm already struggling."

"You don't look it," Russia commented lightly.

"Looks Rus," he pointed to him. "Can be deceiving."