It was very nice of America to invite us to go out with him. I was glad that I accepted his offer, since it let me get to know him and Russia better and I eventually even confided in them both about my problem. Russia wasn't even angry at me! There's a first. After some time, America started to talk about his family. He talked about his older brother Canada and his twin younger siblings, Australia and New Zealand. He became very outspoken and was enjoying the attention that the other people in the cafe. That was, until he leaned forward and spoke so quietly that I strained to hear.
"I'm an illegitimate child." He blurted out. Russia almost choked on his now cold drink.
"Whoa! America, too fast!" He exclaimed, his pupils became smaller, and his lavender iris expanded. "What?!" I just stared at him, in shock.
"Yeah. I thought you should know. Since we're on family topics."
"But...how? Who's your real mother or father?"
"My dad's Britain. Can't do anything about that. He'll always be. My mom isn't France."
"How did you find out?" I pestered him.
"I took one of those Genetic tests. For a laugh, you know. I didn't find the results funny that's for sure." He sighed. "I didn't tell my family at all, and I want to keep it that way. My real mother is Portugal. I haven't told her anything either. But I'm not saying my current family is horrible! I love France, I will always call her 'mom' and Canada, Australia and New Zealand will always be my real brothers. Dad will always be annoying and dull, but he's caring. I never was abused or anything. I was never ever treated like an outcast or someone different. So it's more of if my brothers find out than I tell my parents."
"Oh," Russia nodded. "I see. Since your parents know and everything."
"Mhmm." America agreed. "Depressing. But whatever. How about you, Russia? Any special things your family does? I really wasn't to get off topic. I just wanted you to know. You're my friends now."
"Do you tell all of your friends?" I asked.
"No. Just you guys." I puzzled over why he trusted us over all of his other friends all together. "Go on, Russ."
"Ah, well...my family is big. Currently, we have this big house in the middle of nowhere and my father and younger siblings live there. I have fourteen brothers and sisters."
"Fourteen?" America gasped. "Fourteen?!"
"Yes. Fourteen." Russia smiled. "But only me and my younger siblings lived in the big house. All of my older siblings left for university and never came back. Well, some of them do, but they don't always enjoy their stay. So me, Ukraine, Belarus and Kazakhstan, respectively by age."
"Cool. Any funny stories? Or are your sibling too little for that?"
"No. Ukraine is now thirteen, almost fourteen, and Belarus is ten, and Kazakhstan is five, almost six. So I had to do most of the grunt work. That doesn't mean that we were distant. No, we had fun together. Once Belarus let all of our chickens out while I was eating my lunch outside. Bad idea, never did that again." He laughed.
"What happened?" America leaned forward to listen.
"Our rooster, named Caramel I don't know why it's named that way, that's a female name, but Belarus wanted. Anyway, Caramel trotted up to me and pecked at the back of my bread and salad chicken sandwich. The rooster ate chicken! I couldn't believe it. The worst part is that Caramel attracted the attention of all of the other chickens too. Soon they all were eating my sandwich, which was chicken. After that I found that chickens do eat their own cooked meat. The best eater was a skinny little chick named Sunny. She even gnawed at my fingers. And Belarus never batted an eye, she said that she's been feeding them leftovers from her plate as well."
"Oh boy...are your chickens in the house?"
"Oh no. They're very disgusting. They don't know what a bathroom is." Russia shook his head. "But we do have like one in our house...it was a birthday gift from Mr. China to Kazakhstan. It's a fragile little thing. Very fluffy and cute though, it's one of those Silkie Chickens. We keep it in a box, because it's very small and the other chickens pick on it. It's name is Masha. Very docile and easy to keep. I highly recommend these little silkies. Even my father, who was sceptical about them at first was happy to pet and cuddle with Masha. He loves her."
"Really? Wow. Are they that nice?"
"Yeah, they're great. But China sells them for a high price. Only he has them. You might get some that are cheaper, but they might be hybrids and might have either bad feathers, or bad personalities. China has the best ones, since he knows how to breed them. To ensure that, he doesn't sell cockarelles. Only pullets. Smart idea."
"You know your chicken jargon," America snickered. "How about explaining?"
"Oh, sure. A cockarelle is a male chick. A pullet is a female chick. There are straight run, both male and female chickens. Cornish Rocks are meat chickens. My father prefers to have egg laying chickens. I'm glad, because Belarus is really attached to our current flock. She was horrified when she found that our Holodetz was made out of her favourite. Nasty surprise."
"Oooooh. Horrible." America shuddered. He looked down at the wood panel table and picked at the pure white plate, taking the crumbs off till it shone with the small specks of grease left from the pastries. "Are you guys finished? It's almost dark."
"Yeah, I think we should. I don't like the dark." I admitted. He nodded and we all put on our coats on and left. I was glad, since the waiters were starting to stare at me. Before, Switzerland waved at me and Russia and America asked how I knew him. I didn't want to tell them that I went to my "crazy doctor" uncle. He was actually my first cousin, once removed. But uncle or first cousin, you don't want to be associated with a notorious lunatic on campus. He didn't even look or sound crazy. Why he has that reputation or even if he knows it exists is a question. As we walked down the streets, the lights started to go on, and it felt like we were in a tunnel, the neon yellows, greens, reds and pinks all flashed and blinked all around as if we were in a train, going by the town. Huge billboards with animated commercials and somehow replaced the old and quiet harbour city's tiny windows. I could see Russia's scowling face was illuminated by the lights, and he was visibly unhappy. Living in an area with true darkness at night and quiet all year long, he probably was not used to the steady beat of the city life. I didn't help matters when a storefront opened its door and loud music almost vibrated the whole area. America, on the other hand, had his head bobbing to the music and was very comfortable under the light watch of the moon.
"Don't love the nightlife, Russ?" America had to yell to get Russia's attention.
"No." Russia said back. He sounded frighteningly like USSR when he raised his voice. "I hate this. You can't even see they sky. Or hear yourself!"
"Sorry Russ! We'll be there soon." America's voice was much more suited to be raised, he was actually more comfortable yelling. Russia, on the other hand, was already a bit hoarse from having a twenty second yelling conversation.
"We better." Russia rasped. He cleared his throat and became silent. We crossed the final road, me almost getting under the bumper if Russia hadn't pulled me by the hand out in time. America warned us that the drivers here were rough, especially at night.
"It's their time," he explained. "They aren't tailed by police and have mostly free reign."
"Awful." My voice shook from the shock and I felt my heart beating in my throat. The car was centimetres away from my face. It was pure chance that Russia could grab my coat. I felt stupid and grateful that Russia saved me and that I needed saving. "Why do they have to cut though pedestrian traffic?"
"Welcome to the West Night." America laughed. "Where you can die anytime!"
"Arghh," I groaned and Russia shot me a look of sympathy.
"I'm not used to this too," he sighed. "I'm a country child."
"Suburban," I pointed to myself. "I had a freeway exit, but I never got run over!" I was interrupted by a buzz in my pocket. It was a text for Luxembourg. Russia got one too.
"Hey everyone, I just wanted to say that tomorrow is a big day. We'll be using power tools. I want you guys to be ready and mentally prepared. I have some second thoughts on this, but you are my best group so far, and I think it's time to move on. What do you all think?"
"Awesome!" Russia texted back. "Always wanted to use a chainsaw without my father."
"That's why I'm worried." Luxembourg wrote back.
"That's great." Russia said aloud. "Can you believe it?"
"Yay. Power tools. Never used them before." I muttered.
"Don't worry, I know exactly what to do. I can show you." With that, we all said goodbye and left for our dormitories. What Russia meant by 'help' I would only know the next day.
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"And I said "no way!" And left." Japan was in the middle of a funny story. We were in engineering class and Luxembourg was quickly explaining everything to Russia so he'd understand how to help. Luxembourg had a very excited look in his eyes, while everyone else was uneasily looking around.
"Moral of the story?" I asked Japan.
"Don't eat South Korea's ramen noodles. Even with his permission." Japan flicked her ears towards Russia, who was approaching us. "Hi, what's going on?"
"Power tools," Russia produced a screwdriver out of nowhere and started to affix a piece of metal plate to another. "Luxembourg wants to test them out before using them."
"Somehow, I don't trust you boys with power tools." Japan put her hands on her hips in a commanding way. To stick with her usual unusual style, she was wearing a white shirt with paint spattered all over it and a denim skirt with a black choker necklace on her neck.
"Don't worry, Japan. We're responsible....most of the time," he left her without a word, scooping up his conglomerate metal creation.
"Well," she huffed. The pitter-patter of the rain above was starting to become an intense downpour and the small clashes of thunder could be heard above the steady buzz of the saw that Luxembourg turned on. After a few seconds, we heard a dull thump as a piece of metal fell on the floor and I saw Russia and Luxembourg nod to each other simultaneously.
"Okeeey everyone!" Luxembourg addressed us all. "Power tools. Has anybody used these before?" A few people raised their hands. "Mhmm, you will be broken into partners. I said before, I'm having second thoughts. But what the heck! Let's get going!" He clapped his hands in what we now deem his signature move. "You, with you, aaand you...with you and then Japan, come here, with him. And Russia, you're stuck with Germany. Not that that's bad." He added hastily. "Just you might be hindered if Russia needs to help anyone."
"I'll manage," I shrugged. He just gave me a thumbs up in reply.
"So. These things," he continued, pointing at the tools. "I know you all aren't kids, but pleeeease be careful with these. Britain barely gave me the green light for these, and if something happens...this class can spiral down to something very, very boring." Everyone nodded seriously. "Okay. So. Good. Now, what I want everyone to do is apply our usage of Kinetic and thermal energy equations along with our calculations from last class. Don't forget, if you cannot use the integral, do an implicit differentiation of your equation instead and then use the inverse. It should come out as an integral. If it doesn't, you have permission to complain to our calculus professor." Some students laughed in the background.
"May we start now?" Russia asked.
"Yes, yes you MAY."
"Thank you." With that, everyone started to quickly scratch out their equations. I turned to Russia who started to leaf through my equations with a frown.
"These yours?" He asked.
"Mm, yeah."
"You sure?" He raised an eyebrow. "I think you can do better, smart boy." For some reason, the way he said that made me blush nervously. He probably didn't notice or didn't let me know that he noticed. "Let's just use mine."
"Okay," I nodded. He wrote down some more calculations and then sighed, punched down numbers in the calculator and looked back at me.
"Never used a power tool?"
"Er, no."
"Eh, there's nothing much," he pointed to the switch. "You switch it on, you adjust the power. Easy. Definitely not implicit differentiation."
"Heh, yeah."
"Okay, if all my calculations are correct...and if this calculator isn't broken....we should have this by the end. One."
"Okay." I said.
"You have no idea what I'm saying, do you?" He smirked. I sighed and nodded in defeat.
"I don't get this," I admitted heavily. "I know the math part. I have the same integral. I just did it though inverse differentiation. But velocity? Momentum and heat transfer equations? No, no. Not mine." He laughed and patted my back.
"Hah," he did the final check over his paper. "Well, let's find out how good this works. Don't ever trust me with a power tool again." The rest of his speech was muffled by the noise of many chainsaws at once. He cut through the pieces like butter and after sometime, through the whole table. "Do you want to try?" He didn't even look down at half of the table being cut clean off.
"Ummm. I guess..." I said nervously. "I've never don't his before."
"Can you hold this?" He checked, lightly lifting it up. I thought since he had no problem doing it, so should I. Bad idea. The thing weighed about of me and Russia laughed as I tried to just hold it up.
"No. I can't." I shook my head and put it on the ground. Luxembourg came up to us, his gaze quickly scanning our mess and waved over to Russia.
"RUSSIA!" Luxembourg yelled over the din. I thought it must've been because of the table. But no, he didn't bat an eye about half of the table falling off. "Go over there! Help that group, please."
"Sorry, Germany," he skipped over to two lost looking guys that couldn't even find the power plug on the table. While he explained to the other group, I managed to use a manual screwdriver to fix two of the pieces together. When he came back, he was surprised.
"Oh," he looked at my 'progress'. "You helped," he joked.
"I need to do something!" I crossed my arms.
"Okay, okay." He gestured to the cleanly cut table. "Then help me fix this. Since we're way ahead." We spent the next half hour taping back the cut wires and hardware. The whole time we talked, pretty loudly over the noise, about our future. And it seemed that we both came felt like we had to break out of a box, and that we didn't feel like we belonged in this aristocratic society.
"Great job, everyone! Nobody died or cut themselves, good!" Luxembourg was ecstatic. "Next time, we try again."
"He's going crazy," Japan commented. "I almost got my ears cut off by my stupid partner!"
"Suit yourself," Russia smiled. "I had a good class, right Germany?"
"Sort of." I half shrugged.
"Hmm, angry that you don't understand most of it?"
"Maybe. But I can't do it."
"You can. Now you know my feeling in English." His attitude and speech towards me became softer and kinder. I wondered what happened, but I started to feel like I understood him more. He wasn't a cold and angry person that he looked like. I just probably caught him at the wrong place and time. Maybe it was just that we were different in what we liked and what we were comfortable with. But at the same time, so alike, with our pasts, how we view the world and who we feel indebted to.
"Indeed I do." I nodded, using his commonly spoken phrase. He laughed at that, noticing my words. I guessed that it was the day of figuring out how we really felt towards each other and how much we really knew.