Love Doesn't Have Words [SLOW UPDATES]

-Fresh Start-

Property of Russia.

I haven't gone to school in a long time. I went to elementary for a while, until the incident. Then I got pulled out by dad, then we moved, then I got homeschooled. But finally, my father has decided I can go to school with my siblings.

Speaking of siblings, I see Belarus and Ukraine walking down the stairs. I wave and they wave back. It's pretty quiet in my house, especially between me and my siblings. Dad talks sometimes, but he isn't out of his office too much anyways.

I guess I haven't said it yet. I'm mute, meaning I can't speak. My vocal chords got messed up and I needed many surgeries in order to survive, but nothing could really fix them. I'm okay with not talking though, I usually don't have anything to say.

As me and my siblings get ready for school, Belarus spoke in Russian. "Are you ready?"

Her eyes spoke more than her words did, though I guess I focus more on visual emotion then verbal. Her eyes drowned in care and sympathy. Ah, she's thinking of the incident.

I nod in response. She gives me a smile back, and Ukraine puts and hand in my shoulder, squeezing it lightly. He started talking less since I lost my voice.

The three of us left soon after. Belarus yelled back to father that we were leaving. It was a pretty big day, so I was a little confused why dad wasn't there to see us out. Not only is it my first time back to school in 6 years since I lost my voice, but it's also Ukraine and Belarus' first days in high school. I'm glad we could at least experience this together.

Belarus and Ukraine were both sophomores as of this year. They aren't twins, but Belarus skipped a grade. And, yes, sophomore is the first grade in high school. Weird, right? Apparently this school starts at 10th grade. I think I'm a junior, 11th grade, though I may have to take some sophomore classes. I was homeschooled for the last 6 years after all, and went at my own pace. I might be far behind the grade. Oh gosh, that will mean making friends will be even harder. How hard will high school be?

Ukraine's hand was back on my shoulder. Since I can't talk, I use body language and facial expressions to portray what I'm feeling. I guess I accidentally started frowning, and I can now feel that I'm shaking. I smile at him, though I'm bad at faking emotions. He simply gives me another squeeze and goes back to looking ahead.

I look ahead as well. We lived pretty close to the school, actually. It was big, but probably only slightly bigger than my elementary school. I don't really remember elementary that well. It's probably because that was 6 years ago, but dad says it's form trauma. Belarus unprofessionally diagnosed me with PTSD, or Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Maybe she's right, since the incident was pretty bad. But, I never really felt right telling it to a doctor or therapist because I don't like thinking about it. And, the whole mute thing, making telling anyone anything kind of hard.

We're at the doors. Wow, even through the doors high school is loud. Ukraine opens the door for me and Belarus, who takes me to the main office. I sit in a chair in the corner, letting Belarus do all the talking as usual.

She comes back a bit later and gives me my schedule, as well as giving Ukraine his. Me and Ukraine had first period together, while Belarus was in a class a few doors down. She leaves me and Ukraine to go find her friends. I find it odd that I have a class with Ukraine, him being a sophomore and me being a junior. He says not to question it, and that whoever made the schedule knew I didn't really study history during homeschool. Ukraine and I decide to find out way around the school and to our first period class. Room 248 with Mr. U.N., who teaches history.

I looked at the people I passed, trying to conceal my fear and have a more neutral face. That was hard since everyone was staring at me. Either it was because I'm new or because I'm freakishly tall. All I know is that I don't think they are staring for a good reason. I decide my feet are better to look at.

Ukraine snaps his fingers in front of me. I look up at him, and he smiles. He's always so calm, he sends chill vibes to anyone around him. My shoulders relax as he signed to me that it would be okay.

We went up some stairs. Were we going the right way? I don't really know, but I don't doubt Ukraine. That turned out to be smart, since we ended up finding our class. I gave him a nod of gratitude.

"Ah, it's USSR's boys. Come sit, anywhere is fine." A tall man behind a large desk said. He was the teacher, Mr. U.N.

I nodded, and Ukraine let me pick our seat. The room was organized into 5 tables with four chairs at each. I found one in a corner near a window and sat down, Ukraine plopping into the chair beside me.

"So, how are you likin' it so far? Being back at school and all." Ukraine asked in Russian, leaning back in his chair.

I thought for a moment. I decided to give him a thumbs up. Nothing bad had happened yet, but I haven't seen anything really good yet either.

"That's good, Russ. Just give me a good shake if that changes, 'Kay?"

I nod, smiling at him. Ukraine was kind, always making sure I'm okay without really asking. Honestly, having someone ask if I'm okay is annoying. Instead, he asks how I'm feeling or if I need anything.

"Heyyy, Japan! Over here!"

I look up. I rarely heard my brother talk in English, but I guess it's a language most countries are beginning to adopt as the global one. I look to where he's looking and see a sophomore girl. She has a big red dot in the center of her white face. She seems to be wearing something like a school uniform, but with a large pink sweater over it. It sounds like a bad idea, but this girl somehow makes it work.

She smiles at Ukraine and sits down across from him. "Hello, Ukuraina!" she speaks. Wow, her voice is high. She looks at me. "Who's this?"

"Ah, this is my brother, Rossiya, or Russia." Ukraine introduced me. I wave at the girl politely.

"Not a talker, huh?" the girl jokes.

"No, Russ is mute." Ukraine informs, chuckling a little.

"Oh!" The girl focused back to me. She looks me over, and I give her a friendly smile, but I think I still look scared from earlier. She quickly continues, "How does Roshia speak then?"

"Well, he doesn't. But he communicates with sign language." Ukraine states. He looked at me. "How many forms of sign do you know?"

I felt embarrassed. I didn't like the spotlight. I put up my hand and stuck up 3 fingers. I knew American, Russian, and Spanish.

"That's so cool! Roshia will have to teach Japan sometime!" Japan said excitedly. She seems to like names over pronouns. I nod in agreement.

I see more people walk in. Flags of every color we're filing into the room. Maybe the bell was going to ring. Ukraine called over another person, a red-and-white boy called Canada. He wore a raccoon hat, which I find amazing. Canada's pretty cool, and he knows American Sign Language. He somewhat reminds me of Ukraine, being all calm and understanding. He said he had siblings, who must be lucky.

Soon enough, U.N. stood at the front of the room and began doing whatever he was supposed to be doing. I want to be a good kid, so I listen to what he has to say.

"Class, settle down. I will go over the code of conduct with you, since that's what I'm required to do. Stop your groaning, this won't take long."

_____
Translations:

Rossiya: "Russia" in Russian (spelled with the Latin alphabet)
Ukuraina: "Ukraine" in Japanese (romanji)
Roshia: "Russia" in Japanese (romanji)