Solving of the Countries (Book 2)

Chapter 97

They waited till sunset.

There was silence, in the forest and out. It was nearly impossible to distinguish if anyone was still out.

Russia ripped off the old bandages, making tearing noises in the process. They were torn by the ice that had suddenly grew on them. What was he supposed to do with the ice? Break them off? Sounded painful.

Ukraine hadn't come home, so the Nightingale was hopping on his bed, left and right. Watching. It was a small ball of glowing feathers, its small beady eyes watching him with a bird-like curiosity. It chirped once.

"Not... now,"Russia said, half-minding the National. He used his forefinger and thumb to pick at the smaller ones. He scraped them off with no problem.

The bird flapped its wings once and hopped towards him.

He knew he'd have to go to the sink to wash off the blood. So that's what he did. Standing in front of the mirror, he saw his own tired eyes reflected back at him.

Russia took to clearing his arm off the offending ice clusters.
There were a couple times the pain spiked, but usually subsided to a dull throb. The blood wasn't pouring out as he thought it would, it still streamed out like a thin river.

Russia thought it would never end. Before it finished draining, he noticed the flow slowed down. Taking it as his cue to stop, he got the bandage and wrapped it around his arm affected by it.

Fortunately, after he was done, there was only a small blotch of blood that peeked out.

When he finally sat down, Russia felt his legs ache. No surprise there. He'd been walking for a long time. And he might have pulled something after recklessly kicking the creature away from him.

Russia hoped he wouldn't have a limp. He should probably get some rest.

He lay on his back, counting the imaginary stars in his head.

The Nightingale tilted its head in its own birdy way, then back. Bird-hopping towards him, he watched as it flapped on top of him, perching on his chest.

"You're odd, usually Nationals share the same sentiments as their country,"Russia remarked. The bird gave him a self-satisfied cheep.

He shut his eyes, relieved that he was home. He thought he'd never get out of that nightmare. His arms hurt, a lot.

Knowing he wouldn't even be able to doze off, his thoughts finally wandered to how he was going to tell the Organizations.

Russia knew he couldn't put it off. He simply couldn't sleep. He waited for a couple minutes, allowing his body to semi-recover. He felt that drained. Besides, it seemed that despite the extravagance the Nightingale gave off, it was tired too. It was already dozing off. He'll return the bird later...

The Nightingale didn't seem to want to go back. Everytime Russia tried putting it back into Ukraine's room, he didn't know where she was, it would wing its way out.

At first, he was confused. Maybe the bird didn't remember which room was Ukraine's? It was gone for a long time. The second time, it flew out, perching on the banister, looking at him as if fearful.

Russia couldn't help but suspect that something was amiss. The Nightingale should most likely be singing right now. Did it not know how close it was to reuniting with Ukraine? Its country?

It wasn't like he didn't have time to take care of a bird, but at the same time, he felt that he had other things to figure out. Like, how the burning hell he was going to tell the Organizations. How could he explain? He himself didn't even know. He rubbed his face with a hand, exasperated beyond the healing of anything.