Saudade | CountryHumans RusAme

CHAPTER 11: The Risk I'm Taking

RUSSIA
It turns out, while everyone was pretty much impartial to the salad bar Canada had picked out, there was still animosity left for a heated debate about the best type of dressing. It lasted a good thirty minutes, a nice change to the awkward tolerance that filled the past few days. You know, they had argued so much for the past few years that their bickering was so normal.

If you told this to Russia a year ago, he wouldn't be able to believe that they had it in them to actually get past a bit of their their differences to work on something together. There had been a time where scuffles actually broke out in the hallways before they were quickly put to an end by NATO and UN. Classes were never without arguments, and arguments were never without the same old five repetitive insults. And here he was, on an almost laughable car ride with the same people he used to rapid fire mockery at. But alas, Ukraine was right. They, as a group, would be with each other a lot, whether anyone liked it or not.

He wondered wistfully what China and North were doing in the other van. Germany wasn't a really talkative guy.

When Poland had finally given up talking and passed out again, Germany had stolen Russia's headphones, put them on noise cancellation, and fell asleep too, and Canada wouldn't reply to anyone anything said.

America, meanwhile, sat tight-lipped with his arms crossed in his seat. His battery percentage had deteriorated to a measly 20%, and he didn't look like he wanted to use much more of it.

Sucks for him, Russia thought spitefully. He should've saved it instead of playing military games the whole time.

"Canada," America suddenly offered once more. "Canada. Bro."

His brother gave no reply, only whistling lightheartedly in indication that he wasn't playing peacemaker anymore.

"Russia," America sighed. "I'm bored. Play 21 questions with me."

Russia leaned his head back on the padding, absolutely not elated at the idea of doing anything with him. "Do you want my charger?"

America's lips broke out into a smile. "Yeah."

"Thanks," he said as Russia handed him a small portable battery pack and a charging cord wordlessly. It was jet black with a small emblazonment of the Russian flag's colors in circles: white, blue, and red.

"We're two minutes to Germany's, Ame," Canada laughed. "I don't think you'll need it."

"What! You set me up!" America slumped, glowering. "You can have it back," he said defeatedly to Russia, who took it back and turned his head to the window, taking in for the first time at the scenery around them.

The northern parts of Neo Orbis, much unlike the south, where endless expanses of sand and sun adorned the beachsides, had no oceans or industrial skyscrapers. Instead, the lands were covered in vast patches of grass that stretched out far beyond the horizons in stunning shades of forest green and saffron yellow. To make up for the lack of billboards and halogen lights, towering sunflowers swayed in the skies as he pulled up the sunroof, allowing warm sunlight to pervade the car. It reminded him vaguely of the fields he used to play in as a small child.

There was the faint outline of another black van parked a few blocks ahead, and Russia took one of the ears of the headphone off Germany. "We're almost there," he said, and his friend stretched his legs, trying to leave his dazed state.

"Damn, time flies," he said, taking off the device and handing it back to Russia. His eyes lingered for a split second on Poland before darting to the front. "Canada, are you not tired?"

Canada shrugged, looking at them though the rear view mirror. "Not really. I really like road trips and hikes. I think it's in my blood. I know one person who probably is, though. Would you, er?"