~ Powers of Nations: A Countryhumans Chronicle

▶Chapter:59◀

The chapter:

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3rd person pov:

The soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, gently waking Russia from his slumber. He lay on his bed, his kittens playfully pouncing on him, their tiny paws patting his chest and face. Despite their antics, his thoughts were elsewhere. The image of his scarred reflection haunted him, making him dread looking into the mirror again.

As the morning light grew stronger, his kittens began to meow insistently, signaling their hunger. He couldn't help but smile and giggle at their persistence. "Alright, alright, I'm up," he said, getting out of bed and heading to the kitchen to feed them.

After ensuring his kittens were well-fed, Russia ate a quick breakfast and decided to take a shower. The warm water cascaded over him, but it did little to wash away the lingering sense of self-loathing he felt for the scar that now marred his face. When he finished, he dried off and dressed, avoiding the mirror as much as possible.

Seeking some solace, he stepped out into the backyard to enjoy the fresh morning air. He was just about to sit on the bench when he heard the sound of a car pulling into his driveway. His brow furrowed in confusion; he wasn't expecting any visitors.

Quickly covering his wings and donning his ushanka to hide the bandages over his right eye, he went to see who it was. A luxurious Rolls-Royce Phantom was parked in his driveway (tell me nothing,i love cars and i'm going to name them). As he approached, the doors opened and two familiar figures stepped out—Britain and America.

They were already in the midst of a heated argument. "You need to apologize to Russia, America," Britain said sternly, his accent crisp.

"I don't see why I have to," America retorted, crossing his arms defiantly. "It was an accident."

Russia watched them quietly, his discomfort growing at America's presence. As the two men noticed him, they stopped arguing and walked towards him.

"Good morning, Russia," Britain greeted with a nod.

"Hey," America said, his tone less enthusiastic.

"Good morning," Russia replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "Please, come in."

He led them into the house, noting their expressions of awe at its size and beauty. They followed him to the living room, where they settled into the plush chairs.

"Would you like some tea?" Russia offered.

"Tea would be lovely, thank you," Britain replied.

"I'll have coffee," America said bluntly, earning a disapproving look from his father. Britain smacked America's head lightly.

"Mind your manners, America," Britain scolded.

Russia excused himself and went to the kitchen. He prepared a pot of tea for Britain and brewed a cup of coffee for America, adding a plate of biscuits he had baked earlier. As he carried the tray back to the living room, he took a deep breath to steady his nerves.

Setting the tray down on the table, he poured the tea and served the coffee. "I made some biscuits as well," he said, offering the plate to his guests.

"Thank you, Russia," Britain said warmly, taking a biscuit. "We came to check on your injury and to apologize."

America shifted uncomfortably in his seat but didn't say anything.

Russia nodded, feeling a mix of emotions. "Thank you for coming," he said softly, taking a seat across from them. "I appreciate it."

Britain glanced at America, giving him a pointed look. America sighed and finally spoke up. " Look Russ. I'm sorry for what happened. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Russia looked at America, seeing a glimmer of sincerity in his eyes. "I accept your apology," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It was a difficult situation for all of us."

They sat in silence for a moment, the tension in the room slowly dissipating. Britain's expression softened as he sipped his tea. "This is excellent tea, Russia."

"Thank you," Russia replied, managing a small smile. He glanced at America, who was awkwardly sipping his coffee. Despite the apology, Russia couldn't shake the unease he felt in America's presence.

As they continued to talk, the atmosphere grew more relaxed. Britain asked about Russia's recovery and state, while America remained mostly silent, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

While they were talking, Russia's kittens, sensing their owner's tension, climbed onto his lap. Britain's eyes widened in surprise at the sight, while America's face twisted into a look of disgust.

"You have kittens?" Britain asked, smiling at the playful creatures.

"Yes," Russia replied, stroking one of them gently. "They bring me a lot of comfort."

America muttered under his breath, "I hate cats."

Britain shot him a stern look. "America, mind your manners."

Russia managed a small smile, appreciating Britain's effort to maintain decorum. He continued to pet his kittens, feeling a bit more at ease with their presence.

Britain cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Russia, we also wanted to discuss something important with you."

Russia's curiosity piqued. "What is it?"

Britain exchanged a glance with America before speaking. "We need to address the recent tensions between our nations. It's becoming a serious issue."

Russia nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "I agree."

America finally spoke up, his tone serious. "We can't keep going on like this. It's affecting everyone."

Russia sighed, knowing how challenging it would be to mend the strained relations. "I know. It's not easy, but we have to try."

They continued to discuss possible solutions, brainstorming ways to improve communication and cooperation. Despite the seriousness of the conversation, Russia felt a sense of relief. It was a step towards healing not just his own wounds, but also the rifts between their nations.

As the conversation drew to a close, Britain stood up, signaling that it was time for them to leave. "Thank you for your hospitality, Russia," he said, shaking his hand.

"You're always welcome here," Russia replied, his smile genuine this time.

America mumbled a quick goodbye and followed his father out to the car. Russia watched them drive away, feeling a strange mix of relief and sadness. He closed the door and leaned against it, taking a deep breath.

He had survived the visit, but the scar and the memories it brought would remain. With a heavy heart, he returned to his backyard, seeking the peace that the morning air offered. The sun was higher now, casting a warm glow over everything, but it couldn't quite chase away the shadows of the past.

Russia sat on the bench, his thoughts drifting. The apology was a step forward, but the road to healing would be long and arduous. He looked up at the sky, finding solace in the endless blue above.

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End of chapter...