Rise Again {Countryhumans X Reader}

Chapter 12 - History Repeats Itself

The opal pendant on the little girl's neck shimmied to and fro, in sync with the jeep's rattling, its glimmering surface like a million multicolored stars captured in pale faded sky.

She stared at the rapidly approaching army camp from the window, constantly flickering her gaze from the scenic view to curiously study Germany's tricolored face. The Countryhuman sat beside her, studying a map with a scout. He turned his head to lock eyes with the girl. She started, quickly averted her gaze and curled herself closer to the wall on which she leaned on. When she dared a peek at Germany again, he offered her a kind smile. Y/n hunched down out of embarrassment.

They reached the army camp and Germany helped the girl down from the car. She had to force her feet to keep up with the Country's long strides, so much was her exhaustion bottled up within her. Nevertheless, the soles of her shoes scraped against the concrete floors as she held onto Germany's hand.

A slim-looking Countryhuman was waiting for them near the entrance of the army camp. The upper horizontal half of his face was snowy white, while the other half was bright red like poppies in full bloom. Poland managed a smile at Germany and Y/n, his face torn between keeping the smile on his face and immense concern that surfaced when he landed his gaze on the girl's battered limbs.

"Germany?" Poland looked up at his fellow Country, then at the girl. His eyes widened. "It was the Empires, wasn't it?"

Germany jerked his head down in a subtle nod. Poland crouched down next to the girl, cradling her cold hands in his.
    "Come now, let's get you inside. I'm Poland." He said kindly. His sunny disposition rekindled the girl's senses and she awkwardly grinned at him.
    "I'm Y/n."

Germany smiled at the two and led the way inside.

———

While they were walking, the girl noticed that Poland's shirt was open at the back in a rough triangle shape, just enough to expose his shoulder blades.
    "Mr. Poland, why is your shirt open at the back?" She asked.

Poland blew out a laugh. He met the girl's brightening eyes and then at Germany, who shrugged nonchalantly.
    "I'll tell you when we arrive to the room. And please call me Poland."
    "Okay!" The girl replied happily.

They stopped at a pair of double doors with glittering black knockers in the shape of eagles each holding a large ring in its beak. Germany pushed open one door and led Poland and Y/n inside.
"This is a private discussion - do not interrupt us until after we are done." The officers Germany were addressing nodded and stood guard a little ways from the doors.

The two Countries and the girl made themselves comfortable at the far end of the room, seated near the head of the long meeting table.

Poland gently nudged the girl and and turned his back to her.
"What do you see on my back near my shoulder blades, Y/n?" The little girl got out of her seat and peered closely at the smooth red skin.
There, where crimson skin stretched over the ridges of Poland's shoulder blades. The thin, white outline of an elegant feather etched into his skin beside his right shoulder blade, turning slightly outwards. There was the same etching beside his left shoulder blade. The feathers looked naturally branded into his skin, like he was born with them. A magical-looking birthmark.
"Whoa... are those feathers?" The girl asked. Her eyes went wide again and she excitedly squealed, "you have WINGS??"

Poland shushed her, his smile like a soft sunset. "Yep. They've been with me for as long as I can remember. I was flying with them today, so that's why I'm wearing the weird shirt."
"Does Germany have them too?" She queried, curiously glancing over at him. Germany snapped out of his daydream and returned her gaze.
"Hmm?"
"Do you also have wings?"
"What do you think?" He countered, turning the question back on her.
"Oh come on, take off your jacket," Poland chided. Germany huffed and shrugged out of his military jacket, revealing the shirt he was wearing underneath to be the exact same design as Poland's, only that it was black. He draped his jacket on his armchair.