Embers

Embers [LietPol]

[ 11 November. Warsaw, Poland. ]

When I saw him again after all those years I almost didn't recognize him. His face had lost some of its boyish roundness, a serious expression was on it, and he was listening attentively to Germany. I could tell it was him only by the small Polish flag on the shoulder of his uniform. As it was his birthday, I steeled my nerves and approached cautiously, half-expecting Russia to jump out of the ceiling and snatch me up.

I was afraid of other things as well, but I do not wish to seem overly paranoid, so a comprehensive list will not be provided.

He was laughing boisterously with Prussia when my circuitous approach actually went somewhere. He looked up from his beer and waved me over.

"Hey, Lithuania! Haven't seen you in forever!" I smiled awkwardly and fidgeted.

"Happy birthday, Poland."

"Happy indeed! It's been, like, awesome seeing all my old friends again. So, when's your birthday? I think I need to throw you one since you haven't done it yourself yet." I was almost relieved that Poland was still his boisterous, fabulous self. Of no matter were the combined ravages of Germany and Russia. Poland was truly a phoenix.

"Hey! Earth to Lithuania! You want beer?" Prussia drained his with a loud slurp and belched. "Good stuff, Polack." He appraised my appearance and narrowed his red eyes. "You look like you need beer." He trotted away and yelled at the top of his lungs: "Beer for everyone!"

"He has not changed a bit." I was in fact impressed that he had managed to remain alive despite not being a country. He and Romano were stubborn. Bastards, perhaps, but stubborn.

"Yeah. None of them have really changed all that much." Poland gestured widely at the crowd. "Hungary still hits people with frying pans, Austria is still prissy, Greece still loves cats, sleeps all the time, and fights with Turkey. France still flirts with everyone, Japan senses the mood, Netherlands is stingy and, like, don't eat England's cooking, no matter how much he says it has improved." He sighed and stared into his beer with a thoughtful look on his face. "Can I be honest with you, Liet?"

Why did he call me that? "Y-yeah. You can be honest with me."

"We're the only ones who have changed. You and me, and Belarus, Ukraine, Estonia, Latvia..." He fell silent.

It was then that I realized that some things refused to change. Poland would always confide in me. And I would always be awkward and silent and lost in my own turbulent thoughts.

"Do you wish things could be the way they used to be?" I just let it slip out. I dearly hoped I hadn't contracted Latvia's diarrhea of the mouth.

"Yeah." Poland didn't seem to mind. He rocked back on his heels. "Hey. I've got an idea."

"Mm?"

"How about..." Poland mused for a second. "How about you come over to my place and we forget about all of this?" He smiled, genuinely, not awkwardly, and tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. "Watch the stars, smack each other with fake swords, get lost in the woods, go swimming even though there's a skim of ice on the pond, you know. Like, what we used to do."

That sounded amazing. Absolutely amazing. Just to get away from all the stress and strain of daily life. I must have been standing in silence for a while because he said: "You don't have to, you know. I realize you're busy and you've probably got stuff going on–"

"No. I'd love to come, really." I fidgeted awkwardly.

"So...yes?" The lost puppy-dog look got me.