The Ruler and The Hunter //Original Countryhumans Au

Chapter 6: Lessons

Daylight spilt into the hallway through the glass windows and gaps in the curtains, gold warming the wooden floors and carpets as they shone. Dust wafted around in the rays of sunlight, hardly visible and yet giving America a sense of nostalgia. And as they walked they passed a set of beautiful glass doors, giving America a glimpse of what looked like a beautiful garden, splotches of colours here and there.
It must have been a garden of some sort, yet America subconsciously shook his head to himself at the idea. Why would a King of death want a garden? A garden filled to the brim with extravagant displays of stunning plants and ornate beauty? Something so different to Russia; something he could never be.

America tucked his hands in the pockets of his pants and winced.
They passed a few small drawers pushed against the walls, a few holding multiple pots of indoor plants, ironically peace lilies while others carried bits and pieces of small pottery or a vase or some sort of decorative object.
Paintings hung from the walls, all of them either depicting some great battle or victory or some historical event America couldn't be bothered to care about.
After all, what use would that be for him?

Quietly, he glanced up to watch Kazakhstan who had begun to softly hum a tune to himself and America listened, trying to understand or recognize it but to no avail.
Kazakhstan stopped with his humming as he threw a smile over to America as he pushed open a set of doors after a fiddle with the handle.

Light immediately washed in and America squinted, rubbing at his eyes and blindly following Kazakhstan outside, stumbling and listening to the soft clink of stone under his boots.
He let his eyes adjust to the light and soon America was staring at Kazakhstan, his golden wings shining warmly behind him, matching his eyes.

The two of them were standing near the door, a small field of grass and dry sand ahead of them, surrounded by a wall of ancient moss-ridden stone and clambering grapevines and an array of ivy that never seemed to stop spreading about. Kazakhstan yawned and spread his wings over his head, stretching them with a small grunt of satisfaction before clicking his fingers.

"Now, America." Kazakhstan started with a gentle sigh, wings still out, "tell me exactly what you saw back there." He said, nudging his head in the direction of the doors.

America narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to speak-

"I won't. Tell Russia or anyone for that matter, unless I have to or you want me to." Kazakhstan added softly, almost mumbling.

A nod from America as he walked up to Kazakhstan's side, the two beginning to head into the small fields.
"I saw..." He paused for a moment, doubting what he could remember. "I saw the shadows. They were normal at first but then they just started to change into shapes and weird things.."

"And what exactly, did you see them change into?"

The winged hybrid never demanded an answer, keeping a cool and steady gaze on the shorter country as they walked. Never glaring nor snarling unlike Russia who seemed to always have a resting bitch face of some sort.

"They changed into monsters... And all I could see were their claws. Their teeth, their eyes. And even though I can never hear them, I know that they're always laughing. Laughing at me. Even when I don't see those shadows, I know they're still laughing at me silently. And I can never get away from them no matter how hard I try." America's voice broke and began to tremble as information flooded out of him, Kazakhstan's gaze softening, concern flashing in his eyes.
"When I'm alone they appear... They chase after me... Not like normal shadows... They hunt me down and they scare me and I don't know why I can see them. I don't know why I feel so helpless and weak around them, even when I try to act like I'm strong and stable."
He clutched the ends of his shirt, gritting his teeth and glaring at the ground, his movements turning almost stiff and silently enraged.

Kazakhstan sighed a little and tilted his head to the side, wincing at the sunlight.
"You cannot get rid of them, I'm afraid. "He admitted, speaking slowly and carefully. "But you can try to control them, or learn to get used to them."

America walked on ahead, fidgeting as he listened before he paused and looked over to Kazakhstan.
"What are they..?"