Saudade | CountryHumans RusAme

CHAPTER 24: Space Once Empty

AMERICA
He emerged from the Taxi ride still slightly queasy, narrowly swallowing down the urge to pass out. The driver had put his foot down on the pedal as hard as he possibly could at a request to go faster (ran a red light too in the process), and when they finally made it to Times Square, Russia had immediately darted out and away into nothingness.

America tried futilely following suit for the first few minutes. Russia, with a combined expression of confusion and anger on his face, was circling around the entire place like an idiot, no regard for making sure they stayed at least a meters' range within each other. It went on and on until America came to an agreement with himself that Italy and his friends had already left.

"Could you wait a little?" he called out, barely stopping himself in time from saying Russia's name out in public.

Russia spun backwards. "This is bad. Real bad. I don't know if they're— what would they even like?"

"You're telling me you've been looking through this place for what seems like eternity and you haven't found anything?"

"I never said anything like th— ohhhhh."

He quickly made a beeline for a nearby shop behind the pair. America, confused, followed into the doors of a nearby pizzeria, where the aroma of fresh pizza and Italian goods pervaded the atmosphere like the scent of flowers through a field. Whereas he stopped to take a deep breath of the food that was unfortunately not in his stomach right now (he had skipped breakfast), Russia went straight to the lady at the counter.

"Hi," he said, and she smiled back sweetly. "How can I help you?"

"We lost one of our friends in Times, and our phones are out of battery. Do you by any chance have a Romeo registered here?"

The lady frowned. "No one by that name is eating here, but there were a few people that came in, saw the line, and left. I can check the ticketing for you."

"That'd be wonderful," Russia nodded, and she tapped a few buttons into the checkout computer, peering at the numbers.

"There was in fact a Romeo. A group of three, including him, registered but didn't end up dining. That must be him, right?"

Russia's eyes lit up. "Yes!"

"Wow," she laughed. "I didn't know being in a predicament like this was even possible."

"Do you by any chance know which direction they left for?" Russia asked.

That way," she said, motioning to the left of the door. "But I'm not sure where they went from there."

"Thank you so much," America said gratefully and Russia nodded fervently beside him. The lady gave them another smile. "Good luck," she said, as the bells of the restaurant rang to signal their departure.

Russia wasted no time in racing down the roads of Times Square that went to the pizzeria's left, deeper and deeper into the billboard wonderland. Practically running a mile now, America mustered enough energy to dart to Russia's side and punch his shoulder.

"What?" Russia frowned, looking down at him.

"You need to calm down. They must be still here."

"Times Square doesn't stretch out infinitely. If they're gone, we've lost our only chance at actually getting out of this information stalemate."

America pursed his lips. "Who's Romeo?"

"When the interviewer that put him on TV asked his name, he said it was Romeo. A code name, I guess." When there was silence after that, Russia opened his mouth a few more times to say something, but closed it every time, noticeably hesitating.