I was honestly a bit afraid to meet Russia's siblings. It felt very awkward seeing Russia behave like a little child and being the spectator and onlooker, I couldn't do much. USSR probably felt this too, but he made no comment on it. When we got to their home, the huge and old mansion in the middle of a snowy field was a spectacular sight. Russia's youngest brother came to greet us and even hugged me, asking my name. He was very sweet. The place had a feel of being lived in for many many years. USSR led us inside, into the dark, north-facing living room with a fireplace. I left my soaked shoes on the mat near the front and Russia took me and my things upstairs, along the spiralling staircase, to the first room. His home was constructed in a very fancy way, with one side of the hall having the rooms and the other in a mezzanine level, a grandiose view into the living room. The guest room that I was given felt a little cold and empty, with no personality or character or signs of somebody ever sleeping in it.
"This is the room," Russia closed the door to the windy balcony.
"Your home is nice," I commented. I thought I might've said that a million times already.
"My father made it. By himself." Russia said with pride. "The whole house. That's why it looks like this. I think it would be really expensive if somebody built it for us."
"Probably, and the location is nice too."
"It's safe, far away and isolated. Just like my father always wanted." Russia looked out of the balcony door and smiled. "I grew up here, if you didn't know."
"That's...nice." I had no more words to describe everything. "What do you do during this time of year?"
"Have food. Basically that's it. And my grandfather comes for no reason. It always ends up that he's thrown out of the house. But he comes the next year, and then the next. I guess he thinks he has fatherly rights. And he acts like he's still the Tsar of everything. But we kind of let him, since he's family. So I had to warn you about that." Russia explained. "He also will point out everything at the worst time. So brace yourself for his commentary."
"When is he coming?"
"In three days."
"Three?"
"Yes," I thought he might come up with a snappy remark when I re-asked the question, but he went with the flow. "He takes father's room for no reason and forces him to sleep on the couch downstairs. But we got used to him ordering father around. The most important rule is to not point it out."
"Okay." He was starting to ramble a bit, but I went on with it. He was probably worried that I would say something dumb in front of his family. I could understand his dilemma. "I definitely understand." I said aloud. He gave an appreciative nod and let me unpack by myself. I wished he'd stayed. The room was very plain and was definitely for guests. I put my clothing into the drawers next to the bed and set one of my new favourite books on the nightstand. When I came out, Kazakhstan waved at me, holding something in his hand happily and disappeared into his room next to mine.
"I gave him a British foodstuff." I heard Russia's voice behind me. He looked happy with his decision to bring a gift. "He's really happy."
"He's very sweet,"
"He is. And to everyone." Russia smiled. He walked on to one of the last doors and went into a room. I followed him without thinking. It took me a bit of time to realise that it was his. It was simple in design, with a strange looking bookshelf made out of planks of wood, and he had a wood floor, not entirely covered by a navy carpet. His bed had a fluffy blue grey throw over it and a doll leaning on the white pillows. A large French balcony was partially obscured by the deep sapphire heavy drapes. Russia himself was on his knees pawing through his dresser drawers, muttering to nobody. He noticed me when he looked up and I felt like an intruder being caught.
"Uh, hi um, I just wanted to...you know...see where you went, um, I really wasn't thinking..." I stammered.
He just shrugged and didn't give any reaction. "Of course, look around if you want. There's nothing much to see." He continued to search though the drawer till he dug out a sheet of crumpled paper and yelled. "Victory!"
"What?"
"Found it. The router password." He said, brandishing the paper in front of me. "Ukraine wanted it and couldn't find it. As usual." He skipped down the stairs and talked to his brother in Russian. I, again, with nothing to do, followed him down the creaky steps into the living room, where Ukraine and Russia were arguing about something. The fireplace was lit and made shadows dance eerily across the dark room. The fact that it had no windows and was facing north made it even darker. I crossed over the thick red carpet and sunk into one of the two armchairs next to the fire. Opposite of me, the two brothers squashed themselves into one chair. Even though it was large, they were making it difficult for themselves by intentionally making less space.
"Украина, перестал толкаться живо!" Russia complained.
"Ага, а как насчет нет?" Ukraine remarked with a smile on his face. After a curse and a growl from his brother, he huffed and slunk off to the lighter room on the south side. Russia raised his chin in triumph and gladly accepted Kazakhstan's company when he came down and snuggled with his older brother. I wished I had a brother as well. Kazakhstan must've sensed my sadness and came over to sit next to me, making little chirping noises like a bird.
"Hi!" He said after he finished his little chirpy song.
"Hello,"
"Why are you so sad?" He asked, rounding his eyes.
"I'm not sad."
"Yes you are. You look very sad."
"I feel weird being here," I explained, not sure if he'd understand. "Like I'm a guest, a watcher."
"Oh," he looked down and the slid over to Russia, taking his hand and pulling him to me. He pushed him down to sit right next to me and then planted himself on Russia's lap. "Now you're not guest." He smiled a wide and sincere grin. Russia was turning red and turned to watch the fire. We were literally sitting in one seat. Kazakhstan, thankfully did not notice the awkwardness.
"Thanks Kazakhstan," I said and he started to whistle another little lively song. He had an extraordinary ability to mimic bird noises and churrs. He fluttered his golden wings in Russia's face and giggled when he shooed the wings away. I felt myself nod off and soon enough Russia was shaking me awake.
"Dinner." He announced, and headed off to the adjacent room, which I guessed was the kitchen. It was a much lighter room, with white walls and large windows. The kitchen was as light as the living room was dark. I washed my hands quickly under the scalding heat of the tap, and sat down next to Russia and Kazakhstan. The food was of inferior quality than that of the cafeteria in the school, but it was made all by hand, I noticed. Once we all sat down, everyone except USSR bent their heads and muttered a prayer. I, along with my foster father, waited for them to finish. USSR was calmly sitting and staring at the wall, and I wondered if they always did this, and how did he cope with being left out. Judging by his nonchalance, he probably cared less than I thought. His eyes met mine and he gave me an apologetic look, as if saying sorry for not warning me of this ritual. When they finished their prayer, USSR turned away and helped himself to food.
"I should've warned you that we pray before meals," Russia whispered to me. "And father doesn't do it with us."
"Why not?" I said back, quietly while helping myself to some potatoes and meat on the table.
"He's an atheist. He doesn't have the faith. Our grandfather taught us." Russia looked down at his plate. "If it were father's will, we'd all be like him."
"Oh,"
"Any way," he continued, this time at an audible level. "Belarus, can you give me some potatoes?" He was intent on switching the subject and he talked with his father about classes.
"Never thought," USSR said to Russia. "That France would bend to somebody else. She's one that has to have her way. Subtly."
"She was interested in me," Russia responded back. "She even wants to do Queen of Spades, just because of me."
"She could just be expanding her horizons." USSR countered. "Most teachers fear that they're too narrow in subject. Then it gets bad, since they want you to 'explore'. That's how conflicts start. By 'exploring' our problems and finding out, oh yes, there's my problem." He went on to talk about something else, and then he spiralled into something none of us understood. He just kept on talking. Ukraine sighed loudly and picked at his food. It was probably common in the household for their father to ramble on, since he had no spouse to talk to. Belarus was finished with her food and was looking around, occasionally nodding at USSR's words, politely saying nothing and Russia chewed on a piece of meat for a very long time, and made sure that he was occupied eating to not engage in conversation. Kazakhstan was licking his plate next to me and he then looked up, cocking his head at me.
"Are you really Russia's friend?" He asked.
"Yes." I said.
He smiled and put his elbows on the table. "Do you like Russia?"
"Uh, what do you mean?" I asked him. He said nothing for a long time, shoved some carrots in his mouth, then crunched and swallowed and finally spoke.
"Like loving." He giggled. After my initial silence which he probably took as a yes, he didn't wait for a definite answer and pestered Ukraine on a different note, leaving me speechless. Russia swallowed his final piece of meat after cutting the bits and chewing them for an eternity and offered to clear the table.
"Do you like the school, Germany?" USSR asked me out of the blue.
"Oh, yes. It's very nice." I briefly thought that he asked me that question already.
"No no. I mean what's going on. You said the people are bad there. How come?"
"Well...rumour travels fast. I had a class where one student fainted because I was working with him." I admitted. He cracked a smile and let out a forced laugh.
"Just because of your family? How unprogressive for such a liberal school." He chided, pouring himself a small glass of water. "I thought they would teach acceptance and everything."
"They do. Not everyone follows." Russia cut in. USSR looked at his son and the latter ceased to talk, turning back to his washing.
"Awful. Either you blindly follow or you follow only outwardly. No oppositions or in between. I just hate those kinds of people. They say 'yes master' but they don't conform. Hypocrisy." He drained the glass in one gulp and then sighed. "Anyway, I need to go into the forest tomorrow, so I'm going to sleep. Казахстан, пойдем спать."
"So soon?" Kazakhstan hopped off his chair and hid under the table.
"Come on. You'll be very whiny tomorrow if you don't sleep now."
"No," he said stubbornly and hugged the leg table.
USSR shrugged. "Okay, fine. If you get scared at night you have to stay in your own room with бабай."
"NO!" Kazakhstan squealed in fear and jumped into USSR's shoulders. "Бабай is so scary!"
"Okay, then are you going to go sleep?" He took Kazakhstan's little arms and wound them around his shoulders.
"Yes, yes." He said, burying his face into his father's neck. Once they left, Ukraine snorted with laughter and Belarus shook her head in humour.
"Kazakhstan really believes in this one." Ukraine said. "This is one of dad's best made up monster that actually gets him to do stuff."
"Shh, it's the only thing that gets him to bed." Russia finished washing the last plate and put them to dry.
"True." Belarus yawned. "But I kind of want to go too." She stood up from her seat
"I'll stay." Ukraine walked over to the living room and curled up with a set of headphones on the hearthrug. "I'm not scared of бабай."
"Is this usual?" I asked Russia, who now sat on the countertop, his feet almost brushing the ground.
"Yeah. Mostly. Sometimes father stays up late with me or Ukraine, but Kazakhstan and Belarus have a streak of going to bed early. We usually read or do something by ourselves. Ukraine got into audio books recently." He nodded to his brother, who was sitting on the rug next to the fire, wrapped in a blanket with headphones on his head. Russia went over to the fire as well and sat down on a new looking red couch a little away from the hearth. He turned on a bright lamp on a stand and started to read. I went over to him after a few seconds of hesitation and he welcomed me. He was reading a hardbound book in a different language that wasn't Russian or English. It was in German! After not having exposure to my native tongue for so long, I was immediately entranced by the words. It didn't matter even the subject. He periodically marked up the text with notes in the margins and it took him a lot longer to read the pages.
"What's the book called?" I asked. He turned to me and laughed.
"You should know!" He snapped the book shut and showed me the cover. Ah, a classical German novel. "Herr German Empire gave me this."
"Oh, I see." I nodded. He yawned in reply but said nothing. We stayed like that for sometime till I felt my eyelids drooping down. The warmth of the fire and the calmness radiating from Russia was overpowering. Soon enough his hand prodded my shoulder gently and he told me that he would be off to sleep.
"Come on," he whispered. "I can't carry you up the stairs!"
"Yes you can," I snuggled into the pillows on the couch. "I'm tired."
"So am I." He countered, taking the pillows away and blowing out the fire, so that it was dark. Ukraine had already left a long time ago. "Or you can sleep here. Though I wouldn't recommend it. Father and Belarus are noisy in the morning." He was starting to leave when I called him back.
"Why do you call your dad 'father'?"
"Isn't that what you'd do?" He said, turning on his phone's flashlight. "I call him papa in his face. That's all that matters."
"When you say "Father' it makes you sound like you don't know the language." I hit the right spot and his grip on his phone faltered.
"Really?" He hissed in the dark.
"Yeah," I responded, getting up and making my way blindly towards the direction of the stairway. "Where is your bathroom?"
"Far end of the hall. Don't fall from the mezzanine." He warned.
"I'll be fine."
"I'm sure you will. I don't doubt it."
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Украина, перестал толкаться живо - Ukraine, stop pushing me this instant
Ага, а как насчет нет - Uhuh, how about no
Казахстан, пойдем спать - Kazakhstan, let's go to bed
Бабай - A monster that was made up/took by my grandfather. I don't know if it is an actual thing or not. Some sort of creature to scare little children, basically.