Saudade | CountryHumans RusAme

CHAPTER 15: Our Evening's Revelry

AMERICA
"Yes," China said from the Airbnb reception while everyone else spread out across the lounge, doomscrolling on their freshly bought phones. In a world where only the best afforded places to stay at Times Square, people left and entered the lobby with shopping bags occupying all arm space. "Er, ten people."

"Ten people?" the man at the counter looked aghast, but his eyes were sparkling at the likelihood of a pretty sum of money. "Is this a group trip?"

"Yup," Russia joined the conversation cheerfully from his friend's side, cracking his knuckles subtly like it was just a daily quirk. "The two girls are our sisters. We'll be fine."

"Are you two damn done yet?" Japan complained as her head hung lifelessly off a couch, straight black hair cascading down to the ground. "I need to film a TikTok."

"No, and you're getting the smallest room," China rolled his eyes. "Our requested time was 7:30 PM, from what I remember..." he began, not averting his eyes from the reservation code flashing on his phone.

"Oh, yes," the man sighed. "Here are your keys, then. It's the biggest one at the end of the street — just take a left out the main door and you'll be there. The shower doesn't work past midnight, by the way."

When they had made it down the lamppost-lit roads and made it safe into the privacy of their rented house, Japan flexed her arms proudly. "Was I a good little sister?"

"Spot on," China chuckled. "Already an American."

"You forgot to say you wanted twenty pounds of ice cream while you're at it," Canada pointed out, unpacking his things next to Ukraine.

"I do not eat twenty pounds of ice cream a day!" America protested, to an annoying amount of disagreement (talk about civil collaboration) but eventually everyone had finished making a witty remark and refocused on unpacking — so he set his sights on Russia.

"Hey," he said, throwing himself onto a couch nearby. "Can I call you Nikolai?"

Russia scrunched up his face. "How long are you going to be talking about that? Also, you better unpack."

"Didn't answer my question."

"Don't want to," Russia replied immediately, and America could immediately tell that he was still a little resentful about the lady's reaction to his ethnicity. He debated whether to say something or not, his mind going back in forth in a perpetual seesaw of thoughts. And in the end — he sheepishly returned to his suitcase, ignoring the throbbing in his conscience and the feeling of a pair of eyes on him.

"I found it!" Like always, it was Ukraine that drew him out of his daze. "The slips of names! I'm not letting you guys pick out your rooms this time. Honestly, there's been a lot of improvement, though. I'm so proud of you all."

"Don't lay it on too thick," North said curtly, shaking his head.

Ukraine smiled sweetly. "Okay, you can go first."

"What?" North yelled, dropping whatever was in his hands. "No," he started to say firmly, but Ukraine shoved her hands full of the little paper namecards into his face and he was reluctantly made to grab one. That girl ruled with a flowery, decorated iron fist.

"South Korea," he said quietly. "Oh."

"Oh," South repeated.

"That's perfect!" Ukraine squealed, jumping up and down and clapping her hands. "You guys are already comfortable with each other, it won't matter."

"Actually—" South wanted to interject, but shut his mouth in the nick of time. He wasn't any of the sort with his brother at all, really. They slept in different beds, relaxed in different places, ate in different rooms. Perhaps their only link was their shared love to annoy each other... but was it, in the end, really affectionate? Old habits died hard, and they probably wouldn't reinforce a change in their decade-old conventions of brotherhood anytime soon.