As soon as I sprinted down the walkway and away from sight, I was filled with irrational guilt. I shouldn't have taken such a little thing so seriously, but I did, and I suffer the consequences. I didn't look back, but instead trudged along to my college, away from people. I was glad Iceland was away doing something so I had the whole room to myself. I opened the balcony door and just sat down on the cold floor. I couldn't even think about anything else but what I did. I desperately wanted to go and find Japan and ask for forgiveness, but every time I vowed to stand up, my heart started to hammer in my chest, and I sat back down again, on the hard plastic flooring of the balcony. I felt my shoulders round and my posture slump and wanted to cry. Tears didn't come, but my back did start to hurt. I took out my phone and dialed my father's number. I knew that he might be still working, but I didn't know who else to confide in. After a long pause, he picked up and the sound of grinding machines in the back filled my ears.
"Hello?" He said gruffly. "Talk to me." I dialled his work phone. It didn't have a caller identification.
"Hi papa." I heard my voice become an octave higher. "I kind of need to talk to you."
The sound of machines faded out. "I am listening." It didn't sound like he was in the mood to talk.
"Um...I need advice."
"Ugh, advice." I heard a lighter click. He must be smoking. "About what? Academics?"
"No..." I sighed.
"Dont evade then," he said. "Tell me."
"I-I've just had a...I made a mistake. With one of my friends."
A pause. "Hmm, and so?"
"A-and, I kind of...well...didn't do the correct thing...and I feel guilty about it."
"Ah, Russia. Is there nothing else in the world you have to worry about?" He pleaded. "This sounds frivolous enough. Just say sorry. You don't necessarily have to be, but people love it. I do it all the time. It works."
"But..."
"Russia. Listen to me." He growled into the receiver. "I tell you one thing: friends are like gloves. You need them sometimes, sometimes you do not. If you lose them, you can always get more. Some stay, some get lost. It's their problem. Not yours."
"I...you're right, I guess." I said, defeated.
"I'm not saying this to make you feel bad, Russia. It's just you must not hurt yourself just because others are so sensitive. Who is going to live with you for the rest of your life? Only you. Nobody else. Not even me. Just you. Understand?"
"Yes."
"So don't run yourself in a corner." He continued. "If you have that much trouble, talk to Dr. Austria. It is his job to help you, after all. Okay?" His voice softened at the end. No matter how annoyed he was, he would always help me with anything.
"Alright." I made my voice even once more.
"Good. Call me again if anything." He ended the call rather quickly. I sighed in longing. Sometimes I felt that my father never understood what I was going through. His problems were centred around hunger, cold and not enough money. Mine were different, and could be called laughable against my father's. I considered them serious and would rather be faced with anything but my own problems. Deciding that I would rather not see or apologise to anyone, I put on my dark greenish grey coat with the fur trim and set out, almost like a sniper, to Dr. Austria's office. It is very hard to sneak around if you are one of the tallest people on campus, I had to admit. In about three seconds, fifteen people said 'hi' to me and three waved. Slovakia even paused to chat about the homework we were given in class. I pulled the hood over my head, even though I was roasting alive. For February, the sun was blazing and the air became almost still. Lucky me. Panting, I made my way to the small and familiar half cottage, half office like small one story building. Switzerland, the snobbish but also uncannily organised teenager was sitting at the front desk, manning three monitors but scrolling though his phone. He had in, of course, the latest model of earphones and the most up to date phone and the trendiest watch, but apparently his father had picked out his wardrobe, by the looks of his blazer and bowtie. He looked up at me as I closed the front door. It had a bell attached to it. I vowed to not agitate the bell the next time I came. Putting on a fake smile I approached him and asked for Dr. Austria.
"Sure." He said in a bored tone. "Just wait a minute." He stood up and went into the room right in back of him, yelling in German at his father. I didn't expect much, but if I had used that kind of time towards my father, mind you grass would grow greener. That is, I'd be fertilizer. Dead. Switzerland came back with a harassed look on his face, muttering to himself. "He's coming." He announced to me, sitting back down. I wondered if he went to school or not. Judging by the fact that he had stacks of school textbooks on the desk as well as documents and secretarial papers, he might've been home schooled. Or on virtual. Either way, not in a physical building with peers. Dr. Austria came down, glaring at Switzerland the whole time. The latter acted as though he didn't care.
"Next time," he seethed. "I don't want to hear such words coming out of your mouth."
"Whatever...dad." Switzerland sighed, twiddling with his pen. "I isn't sign up for this job. You're not even paying me."
"In a way, I am." The whole conversation was going on in German. Apparently, Dr. Austria thought that only his family spoke the language. "I am saving us from hiring a secretary. Do you know how much they want nowadays? Too much."
"Okay, okay."
"Now sit down, be quiet and do your schoolwork. I've had enough of your teachers calling me in the middle of my bath." He turned back to me and his rage melted into pleased surprise. I had to squash down a smile that was forming on my lips. "Hello Russia." He reverted back to English.
"Good afternoon." I said back.
"Come," he led me into the pink room once more, shooting a glare at Switzerland for the last time and slamming the door. A bit too forcefully. "Oh, my apologies. I did not mean that."
"It's fine." I nodded to hide the smile that I couldn't suppress.
"So," he sat opposite of me, smoothing out the folds of his cotton white polo shirt. "What can I help you with?" He folded his hand in his lap and waited.
"Well, I came to just....talk. I have a small issue." I stammered.
Dr. Austria's reaction was very different than my father's. "Oh, is it related to academics? Or is it social or emotional?"
"Emotional." I sighed.
"Ah, I see." I noticed that after the time I said that clipboards irritated me, I've never seen one in his hands when he talked with me. The whole picture of recording my thoughts on paper vexed me, and I frequently voiced the issue. But Dr. Austria was considerate enough and was attentive. As my father said, it was his job. As I heard from snippets of conversation, he was supposedly like my father on campus, and I was told to say the truth to him. It was an arrangement between my father, school psychologist, headmaster, and Dr. Austria.
"It's a bit childish," I admitted.
"Usually these kinds of problems seem so, but they are actually not. Especially for people who have a hard time dealing and figuring out their emotions." His tone was lightly patronizing, but that was how I was spoken to for most of my life. He also spoke in a very 'step around' manner that I wasn't used to till I came here. I've noticed that people try to rather make their clients and students feel comfortable rather than roughly extract the problem and be done with it. I don't know which method I liked. Quick and painful, or long winded and awkward.
"Well. I sort of...yelled at someone for a really small thing. And now I'm guilty about it." I didn't want to say names or situations, so I spoke vaguely. I could see that he had gotten the general idea.
"And you can't bring yourself to apologise." He finished for me. I nodded. "It's not irrational, though. You do feel guilty. Did you feel anger rising up before the actual situation....happened?"
"Not really. I was calm, relaxed even." I recalled. "And then..." I realised that I couldn't go on without revealing the fat t I've been holding in for so long. I guess secrets can't forever remain. I will definitely regret this later on. "The topic reached my relationship....with someone. And I got protective." Even though an adult, I could see that he wanted to know who I liked, almost like a teasing child. Instead he decided to bite his lip and nod accordingly. "And then I yelled at one of my friends and thoroughly embarrassed myself." I finished. He looked back at me and nodded again. For a long moment, all he did was look at me, but never made eye contact for more than four seconds.
"Ah, I see now." He went back to folding his hands in his lap. "Well, I suggest that each time that happens, try to pause, think it though. It must sound strange, but if you do so, you'll find yourself in less of these situations....not that you'd want to be in one." He said hurriedly. "I'm very glad that you come to me, but do you have any peers that would also....sort of strengthen your social circle, so to speak?"
Moment of horrible truth. "Yes."
"One person or maybe more?"
"Eh, I don't know. My flatmate is my friend, but I don't confide in him very often. I just yelled at my other, so.....and my third friend would probably be the only person I could....plainly speaking, trust."
"That's definitely fine," he said. "May I ask whom?"
Alright, now was the moment of horrible deteriorating debilitating truth. "Germany." I tried to keep myself for stuttering. His posture showed no signs, and he didn't speak. I looked at his eyes to find a waterfall of emotions spilling, spiralling, and splashing out. He didn't look at me for a time, instead staring at everything but me. He repeatedly bit his lip, showing his perfectly smooth white teeth. Eventually, he settled back, tipped his head down and let out a long sigh. All that time I thought of just bolting straight out the door.
Then, as if he hadn't spent about five whole execrable minutes just silently moving his eyes, he spoke once more, evenly and serenely. The only fact that unnerved me was that he was staring though me, not at."Oh, very good. How nice. I know Germany. He is my nephew, in a way. But we are family, all that matters. Charming, though." He babbled on. Then, he stood up and went to drink some water from a dispenser near the door. Opening it just a creak, he started to talk in German to his son. "Switzerland,"
"Mmmm, ja?"
"You know Germany, right?" He spoke quickly and quietly, so it was a struggle to keep my head from turning their direction. I wanted to seem oblivious.
"Yes." The other said. "Honestly, he's pretty weird. Also, he's a huge nerd."
"I didn't ask for comments, did I?" Dr. Austria hissed back. "I said, do you know him?"
"Yes! I do!" Switzerland practically shouted. "So what?!"
"He's Russia's friend." He half hissed half whispered.
Switzerland's voice came out dripping with sarcasm. "Uhh, dad, don't you think that your client knows his name in German? And Germany's? I wouldn't talk so freely."
"That's why I'm talking in German." He said, sipping the water from his cup. Apparently, he felt comfortable gossiping in front of me. Not that I cared. I already heard him chatter about other people. Though, it never left the office, so in a way, I trusted him to not spread rumours. Somehow.
"Whatever dad." Switzerland sighed. "I just don't like gossiping in front of somebody. Especially if they're the subject. Especially if their dad is a man who can break people's spines. Especially-,"
"Fine." His voice sounded a bit strained from anger. "I just wanted to say that. Nothing else! I don't need your intimidation warnings either." Again, he slammed the door. He turned to me, and walked back to his side of the circular shaped couch, sighing.
"Is everything alright?" I asked curiously, acting as though I didn't understand a word of their talk. In fact, the implicit meaning was even more interesting. I guess I didn't have the worst type of problems. People had worse. It made me feel much better than just talking to someone.
"Ah, yes." He snapped out of his trance. "I just told my son that he knows Germany." At least he told the truth. He wasn't as bad as sometimes he's described.
"Oh, okay." I made sure that my face showed more understanding than before. "I see."
"I was just surprised that I know him." He crossed one of his legs over the other. "Its a small world." He noted, uncrossing his legs after a moment. I also told him that I was particularly annoyed by that as well. He remembered that once he looked back at me. He had an excellent memory to what I found irritating. "Ah, but never mind. Anything else I can help with?"
"Um, not really." I murmured.
"Excellent." He said. "I'm not one to throw students out, so you may stay or leave. Your choice." He ended his sentence and stood up. He left the door to the main lobby ajar, but made sure it shielded me from view. I wanted to stay and not go anywhere, but soon I was searching for something to do. I crept out of the office to tell Dr. Austria that I wanted to come back after I brought my homework. It made me sound like an antisocial anxiety ridden smart person, and Switzerland staring at me the whole time didn't help, but I was given a positive answer, and the rest didn't matter. I started to ignore people's reactions to my behaviour and comments; I didn't know if it was good or bad. I left my jacket in his office and pranced out of the building, light and vigilant. Not that I was light or vigilant. I was the opposite. I quickly ran, or skipped, up to my room, took my book and left. I almost got to the office without a problem. No, that would be too easy.
"Russia?" It was him. Germany. He was wearing different clothing, black flowing slacks, a black thin turtleneck, and a grey warm vest as well as a surprised expression.
"Definitely not Russia." I said quickly.
He folded his arms and smiled. "Really?"
"I'm going now." I was already almost at the door to the office.
"You know I'm not mad at you, right?" He made me stop, my hand hovering on the door handle.
"No, I didn't know." I turned around.
"I was trying to find you." He said. "But you wouldn't answer the phone."
"Sorry. I left it in there." I pointed to Dr. Austria's office. Germany raised his eyebrows.
"You know that somebody might read your messages?"
"Who?" I asked dryly.
"Switzerland. He's a bit of a nosy person." He noted. "He thinks that he's anonymous and low profile. I've seen him unlock his father's phone and text in it. They don't have the best of relationships." He pointed out.
"I noticed." I muttered. "They like to talk behind people's backs."
"Ah, yes." He sighed. "That's Austria's fatal flaw. Hamartia, you could say. And he probably talked in German, right?" After I nodded he continued, laying his hands on my chest and looking up at me. "Yeah, but don't take it seriously. When it comes to gossip, he's just like my great uncle. It's usually harmless chatter." He seemed worried that I perceived his family member as a lie spreader. Fortunately, I didn't. I pet his head affectionately, and pressed him to my chest. He only came up to the end of my ribcage, but he nuzzled me all the same. I closed my eyes and breathed in the cold but sun warmed air. It was that air that also snapped me out of the trance I was in. My book slipped out of my grip of my right hand and hugged Germany tightly.
"I'm still going back to that office." I said.
"I know I can't change your mind about that." He broke the embrace. "But I also need to talk to my uncle. About family stuff." I didn't pester him about what, but I vaguely knew. "But most importantly, I found you."
"Yes. You did." I smiled.