~ Powers of Nations: A Countryhumans Chronicle

▶Chapter:44◀

The chapter:

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3rd person pov:

The house was eerily quiet without the lively chatter of his siblings. Russia could still remember the echoes of their laughter, the way they filled the rooms with warmth. Now, the silence felt heavy, oppressive. He wandered through the halls, his wings tucked tightly against his back, feeling the absence of his family keenly.

Soviet's behavior had shifted dramatically since the others left. He no longer lashed out with the same violent fury, but there was a sadness in his eyes that Russia couldn't ignore. It was a sadness mirrored in his own heart. Russia noticed the cracks in his father’s skin, each day more pronounced, a stark reminder that his father’s time was running out.

That cold evening, Russia found himself in the living room, staring out the window at the falling snow. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. He turned to see his father, Soviet, standing in the doorway, holding something behind his back.

"Dove," Soviet said softly, using the nickname that always made Russia's heart ache with bittersweet memories. "I have something for you."

Russia tilted his head, curiosity piqued. "What is it, Father?"

Soviet walked over, his expression softer than Russia had seen in a long time. He brought his hands forward, revealing a beautifully crafted Ushanka. The hat was made of thick, warm fur, perfect for the harsh winters they endured. It was similar to the one Soviet always wore, but in different colors- grey.

"I thought you might like this," Soviet said, holding the ushanka out to him. "I know it's not much, but..."

Russia reached out, his fingers trembling slightly as he took the hat from his father. He ran his hands over the soft fur, feeling the warmth it promised. "It's beautiful," he whispered, looking up at Soviet with gratitude shining in his eyes.

Soviet smiled, a rare sight that made Russia's heart swell. "I made it for you. I wanted you to have something to keep you warm. Something to remind you that... I'm still here for you."

Russia felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He placed the ushanka on his head, feeling its comforting weight settle over him. "Thank you, Father," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "It means a lot to me."

Soviet stepped closer, wrapping his arms around Russia in a gentle embrace. Russia leaned into the hug, feeling the familiar strength and warmth of his father. Despite everything, despite the pain and the loss, this moment felt like a small beacon of hope.

"Father," Russia whispered, his voice trembling. "Are you... okay?"

Soviet sighed, his grip tightening around his son. "I won't lie to you, Dove. My time is running out. These cracks... they are a sign that my end is near."

Russia's heart clenched. "No, папа, please don't say that. "

Soviet shook his head slowly. "Some things cannot be healed, my dear. But I want you to remember that you are strong. You have always been strong."

Russia's tears flowed freely now, soaking into his father’s shirt. "I don't want to lose you."

Soviet kissed the top of his head gently. "You will never truly lose me. I will always be with you, in your heart, in your memories. And you will carry on. You must."

They stayed like that for a while, the silence between them no longer feeling oppressive, but rather, comforting. The bond between them, strained and tested, seemed to mend just a little with the simple gift of an ushanka.