East Bound - Russia x Germany

From Tiksi With Love

I haven't ever been so calm as I was during the journey so far. It was like a thirty ton block was lifted from my shoulders and everything seemed funny and light. If I were looking back at myself, I'd probably laugh. I couldn't wipe that stupid grin off my face, and I outwardly laughed at Germany's blushing face. Yakutia looked at me almost fondly, like one does at a child, but I could care less. The wind blew in my face, and I was back to being the reckless twenty three year old again.

"You like it, don't you?" Yakutia said, her voice so sugary as if it were honey. The back of my mind twinged in annoyance, because of her sweet tone, but I pushed it away. The feeling of being drunk on the north was overpowering.

"Yeah," I breathed in the sharp air.

"We will be in Tiksi in no time," she gave me a thumbs up. "After that, it's smooth sailing to the Kolyma river. Cherskii, you know."

"Oh, yes," I nodded. "Cherskii."

"Have those youthful memories there, right?" Yakutia had a shadow of a smile on her lips.

"Cherskii? Of course!" I sighed. "It was one of the best times in my life..."

"Don't get too nostalgic, old man." She snickered. "Let reality hit you, you're thirty."

"Who cares...?"

"You're thirty?" Germany asked, looking incredulous. "No."

"How do you know?" I looked at him. Still unable to change my expression, I reverted to a sly grin. "And no, I'm older than thirty."

"He's fifty five." Yakutia told him. "Really."

All I could do was roll my eyes and whistle. Our surrounding, though unchanged, were fading in and out of my focus. Yakutia's dogs must be light and resilient, because they never stopped and seemingly did not mind the extra weight in the sled. Above the always swirling breezes, I could hear their panting and light pawsteps on the heavy snow. I closed my eyes for just one moment, and fell into a stream of rushing memories. I was back in the north, but a whole time before. Way back.

"So, why did you come here, molodetz?" A grizzled old worker with hands as tough as leather asked me. In his mouth was a heavy duty smoking pipe, which let out a stream going directly up. He referred to me like to all newbies, a young man.

"Try my luck, I guess." I shrugged. It was actually much deeper than that, my past self thought. I've come to lose myself. Here, where the frosts harden not only your hands, but your reality as well. The 72nd parallel has yet to show herself. She vows to harden everything, if you let it. Some prefer to hold on to their precious memories so fiercely, like on life. "Better than the army, no?"

"It'll be more difficult than the army, son." The man smirked, flexing an arm. A tattoo peeked out from under his collar. He was a prisoner. "You got that?"

"Yes, sir." I nodded, even though I could barely move from the cold. It had already frozen me.

He stood up from his place. "Let's get you going then. Show you around. At least feed you and clothe you correctly. Wherever you came from, they did it wrong. We'll show you how to live. To live like a real man!" He howled triumphantly. Some others cheered. "Well, as much as the scientists let us." He added with a smile. "They're the reason we're here in the first place. I'll show you what to do."

"Helooooo," Yakutia's singsong snapped me awake. The alarm at seeing the ground rush below me centimetres away from my face made me yelp and scramble back up. "Rossiiiiiiiiiya!"

"What, what?" I gasped. Something was holding my arm tightly. As I righted myself, I saw that it was Germany. He didn't let me go even as I came to.