Russian Roulette | Rusame | Countryhumans AU

The First Step

The two of them made their way towards the bustling music and lights, people swarmed the place, pushing past each other to try and get a better view of the stage performance.

"Let's take a stroll around shall we?" America placed his hands behind his back, a casual smile spread across his face. Weren't we on a strict schedule? Russia thought to himself, why would America offer to take a leisurely stroll?

Seeing the vendors and the crowd made Russia slightly anxious, a cold bead of sweat slid down his chin. But in the end, he hesitantly nodded.

Russia retracted his tail before receding into the sea of people along with his prince. At first, the Russian thought the American was going to tell him something, or start the plan, but it just seemed like they were casually looking around.

Deafening music filled his ears along with loud chattering and footsteps. Occasionally, America would point at a stall selling knickknacks, food, you name it, blabbering on about how cool it looked or how it made him hungry.

America got quite handsy with the stalls and items.

All these things combined overwhelmed the dragon, he was afraid everyone around him would suddenly turn - all looking at him with eyes of disgust, and trepidation.

Then they'd attack him, just like they did all those years ago. And just like then he wouldn't be able to do anything.

Alright, focus. Russia gave himself a pep talk, attempting to shake away the irrational paranoia that chewed away at his brain. Focus on something so everything else didn't crash over him.

A slew of thoughts ran through his head as he tried to sort himself out, nothing much of importance, the prince's voice, his footsteps, his laughter, wait a minute, why is it all that one person?

His shut eyes pried open once again, dammit, it's always him, Russia couldn't help but internally groan in annoyance. 'Enough with the prince! I get it! I like him!' It was like he was fighting a battle with himself.

However, another little detail he noticed was a faint odd smell, it didn't seem to belong in the setting of a festival. A putrid scent growing thicker and thicker as time went by. Russia focused on this, trying to pinpoint what it was.

It was bitter sweet, yet as Russia sucked in a breath, it seemed to irritate his lungs. He had a feeling, breathing this in wasn't good, but the amounts seemed to be controlled well, to the point it wouldn't arouse suspicion until much later.

Why was Russia the only one who noticed?

Well, with a bit of brainstorming, Russia realized, perhaps it's because it's in close proximity to him.

His gaze immediately trailed towards America, scanning him up and down. That's when he noticed, the prince's fingertips seemed to drip a liquid substance, spilling all over the ground as they walked.

Which reminded him, the plan, America never delved into the details, or at least he never told Russia the details.

"Your highness,"

"Yes?" America replied while clutching a book.

Little details unfolded in front of the dragon, how America purposefully planted his entire palm on the counter of the stall, like he was smearing every inch of it with the sickly sweet liquid.

"Your hands," Russia struggled to put his suspicions into words. The prince stared at his palm, then turned back to Russia, "what? You want to hold it again?"

Almost flabbergasted by his offer, Russia spat out, "No! I just noticed a smell and that you seem to be dripping liquid everywhere, if this is part of the plan then would you mind elaborating?"