Stimulation (Hetalia Fanfiction)

It Is Progress

I'M SORRY I'VE BEEN GONE BUT I HAVE A GOOD(?) EXCUSE I PROMISE. I was just really busy with um... eating and stuff. Then I created another account Confirming on a whim for no reason. Then I forgot about that account and this account. So basically I was just being lazy, as usual. SORRY!

America stared at a young man who was walking through the houses. His bottom lip trembled, but his jaw was taunt.

"I always hated ghosts," he muttered, blue eyes following the other man's movements. "Their time has past, and yet, they're here. Here and breathing and living. I-It's..." America trailed off, averting his eyes and turning before leaving. "Let's go."

Russia reached out a hand to grab the younger's shirt. "We are not finished here, da? You must end whatever trial you have here before we can continue, else something will happen," he warned, remembering his own experiences.

America scoffed, previous zeal back. "Like you'd give me any truthful advice."

"...It is your choice," Russia shot back, lips curling cruelly. His scarf fluttered as he followed the American. Very naive to think he could just leave the problem. It was times like this that he was reminded that America was still very much a child.

America didn't answer. Instead, he squared his shoulders and held his head up high. A glint of determination was in his eye, and Russia couldn't help but stare mesmerized at the face he had waged a silent war with for nearly fifty years.

Then, the moment faded when the American ran straight into tree. Russia's frown grew. "Amerika, are you growing addled already? You are a superpower, and yet you are trying to run over an innocent plant."

America detached his face from the tree and tried to calm his nerves. He cursed. "Texas isn't working."

Russia clapped his hands. "I fail to see how a state ceases to work, Amerika. Perhaps you are becoming a little schizophrenic as well?" he asked. Russia grabbed the younger's face and jerked it upwards. He knocked his knuckles brutally on the American's forehead and beamed, ignoring the sputters of indignation and protests. "It seems hollow it there, da?"

America shoved himself from the Russian's hold, stumbling backwards before spitting out, "It is not hollow! And I am not schizophrenic!" He spent a long, hard minute of glaring at his Russian companion before deeming Russia thoroughly intimidated before hissing, "I'm talking about Texas, my glasses. I can't see with them on."

Russia face contorted into one of understanding. "Of course. At this point in time, you have not formed a permanent settlement, let alone an entire state, so your little glasses will not work," Russia said thoughtfully, frown twisting into a happy smile. "Ah! This means that you," he poked America with a finger in the chest, "have as much power as a tiny settlement."

America turned red and puffed his cheeks out in indignation. He squinted, taking the now blurred glasses off of his face and shoving them in his pocket. He pointedly looked away from the Russian and made sure not to answer.

Then America caught sight of the wooden houses and the settlers walking and he turned pale again.

"Now let's leave," America said, the silence from the previous moments offering enough time for the American to remember where he was. "I want to- OH SHIT!"

He screeched as a woman with a child in her arms stopped in front of him and smiled warmly. Normally, it wouldn't have been out of place, but here, anything was possible. Russia still remembered that when England had cast the spell on him, his deceased Tzars and Tzarinas started to decay in front of his eyes, leaving him standing in the remains of their rotting flesh. Though, he couldn't say whether that was a good or bad thing. He had truly despised some of his rulers and seeing them deformed had made him beam in delight.