Russia 3rd Person POV:
Staring into the mirror, he watched the world behind him resume its pace, like everything was perfectly fine and not a single misgiving could affect them in the slightest, while he himself fidgeted around. They didn't know, and he supposed that they shouldn't know, but it still felt odd that not one of his many siblings had suddenly whirled around, jabbed a finger at him, and demanded answers. Ones that he himself couldn't even give.
I have to speak with you, Russia.
He had no idea who it was from. No signature graced its ominous farewell, and from all of his past experience, he couldn't detect the handwriting. There were limits to a person, after all. But still. The anguish that whirled inside of his head threatened to spill out onto the wooden floor for everybody to see and judge him, not unlike the snowstorms that happen around their home.
I can't find help anywhere else. You are my only option.
How could he be the only person capable enough to aid this mysterious figure? He was just another run-of-the-mill detective. There were plenty others in the city, so why did it have to specifically be him? If anything, countries were more inclined to step away from him, rather than willingly ask him for assistance. It wasn't that he hated everybody, but most got that impression.
But you need to promise me something that you can't break. This problem is taller than even you are.
So clearly the person who wrote this knew who he was talking to. Russia was kind of a sight with his seven-foot-tall stature and his infamous ushanka. Most countries regarded him as a giant, so, knowing who this country was talking about and his reputation, this problem must have been very big, indeed. Still, though, Russia clenched his jaw together. He didn't want to make any promises that he didn't have to, and this one was as vague as could possibly be.
You can't tell anyone about this, because they will only think you're crazy.
Which led to the well-calculated argument of, well, what if they were crazy, and why should he listen to them? It stumped him, too. Although, he has met a lot of difficulties in the past, and a good majority of them were done by countries who thought that they were just fighting for what they believed in.
Please come. If you don't, you might as well just convert to being a criminal too, because your denial would hurt people anyway.
Yeah, right. He was a detective, his literal mission was to help people and to set wrongs straight. Which meant that he couldn't just let this question slide from him. He needed answers, and not having any made his stomach have a tug-of-war between the different feelings that were fighting inside of him.
"You good?"
Turning his head, he saw the bright yellow and deep blue flag of one of his siblings looking up at him with a grim mouth, and he gave a small smile.
"Hey, Ukraine. Yeah, just thinking about something."
She poked him in the arm. "Well, tamper it down a bit. The food is almost ready, and I don't want you to scare the guests away with that face of yours."
Turning, he tilted his head, un-flexing his body. He hadn't known it, but apparently he had flexed up sometime in his frantic thinking. "What face?"
Shaking her head, she smoothed down her white dress with the palms of her hands. "Just relax, won't you? It helps with digestion, too. Besides, what could you be so upset about? You don't have any new missions, and you finished your old ones weeks ago."
Her clear blue eyes searched him, seeking the answers from his face, and he shrugged. "A lot can happen," he answered, letting go of the table and walking off. Behind him, he heard the soft sigh of his sister, and even though it hit against his morals, bruising them, he still couldn't tell her, even if the world was breaking apart.
I'm getting worried, and it's time we do something about it.
Well, stress was eating at Russia too, even though he didn't know what the problem was about. As he looked around the house, all of his siblings were getting the house ready with tinsel and fixing up the last of the lights that still needed to be hung. Everywhere he went, rays of joy and peace shone on everybody's faces.
He rubbed his hands together, somehow feeling cold and distant from their inner warmth. Normally, he wouldn't be like this. He would have either been in the kitchen, grinning at the stories his siblings told him, or maybe helping his brothers fix some electrical issue that always sprang up last-minute. But how could he even think about the upcoming celebration of Christmas when there was a country waiting for him out there, trying to talk to him?
Maybe, though, he should listen to
Ukraine's advice and take a little breather. It wouldn't do well to concern his guests. He was well aware that they were already hesitant to come, but for the sake of their unstable friendship, they would.
As he walked to the closet and pulled out a thick, fur coat from inside and slipped it over him, he went over the guest invitation inside his head. Canada, whom he severely distrusted, was coming, much to Ukraine's delight. The two were the best of friends, and if Canada's small glances he made when he thought nobody was looking meant anything, maybe they were more. And, Canada was a fine country, soft spoken and well mannered, but he was brothers with him. Brothers with an abomination that sprung up with one desire which was to create as much havoc as he could manage with his nimble little fingers.
Relax, relax, he snapped at himself, unclenching his fists. He wasn't coming. He was out there, somewhere, still as elusive since the first day that Russia had ever met him. Of course he wished to know that this wanted man was behind bars and locked away safely, but since he couldn't, he just had to be content with the fact that he wasn't here at least.
The unknown was very big. There was a lot of space for a person like him to get lost inside of it and never return.
Breathing deeply through his nose, he slipped a set of yammering keys into his pocket and clutched the handle of the door, almost jerking it open.
Wow, I really am tightly wound up, he thought, moving his shoulders around to ease them a bit. Making sure he shut the door with more gentleness than he had opened it, he stuck the keys in the lock and shut his eyes, languishing in the crisp, cold air of winter. The sharp air was all around him, chiding him for not covering himself head to toe in warm fabrics as his face shone through. It was persistent in its duty, to freeze everybody and often went into rampages when it couldn't succeed. It was funny, always hiding everything in its lush pillows of fresh snow, but it could be cruel, too, freezing up the road with a mean glimmer.
Whatever it was, it was beautiful, and it always filled Russia with a sense of himself and homecoming. Sure, snow was difficult and hard to understand, but he didn't become a detective to understand the known. He wanted to crack the unknown and have answers for everything else.
Blinking open his eyes, he pulled his ushanka lower onto his head and tramped off through the sidewalk that he had uncovered just that morning. It glimmered in the bright light, winking and practically begging him to slip on it, to have a little fun.
"Maybe laterrr," he mumbled, rolling out his r's a little more than he needed. English wasn't a hard language for him, as a lot of other countries used it too, but sometimes his native language would pop out in the middle of his speech. Not like he was one hundred percent fluid in English, though.
When he got off the sidewalk and onto the main path, his boots crunched the snow underfoot, making a satisfying little noise that he liked to hear, and he continued to think about all the guests who were invited.
Germany was a funny one. Everything had to be precise with him, from how he wore his clothes, to how he spoke out loud. Although, he would smile just as much as anyone and chatter just as loudly, making him warm and friendly, contrasting to his clean freak attitude.
North Korea and South Korea were definitely a little odd. Especially North, who was always glowering at everybody from underneath his gray face mask that only allowed his yellow eyes to shine through. South wasn't as much of an introvert as North was, but from time to time he did get aggressive, and would look strikingly like his short twin.
Japan was arguably Russia's worst guest, but also his best one. In any case, her twitching cat ears were the best for finding the criminal and cracking the case, but on a normal day, she's much too inclined to get into anybody's personal life and won't forget a single word of it. A detective herself, she was pretty high up in the rankings, and even better than he himself was.
So then why did that person need him specifically, when there were better people out on the field?
Calm down, just don't think about it, he thought, shaking his head. It's probably nothing too huge anyway.
Even to himself, he knew that was a lie. Nobody had ever sent him a letter before, asking for help.
As the day lowered itself onto its haunches and prepared for a happy night, the street lamps flickered on, glimmering with a thousand different colors that winked and called to him to lighten up his spirits! It was Christmas! Why the need to look so sad?
Russia heard their calling as he shuffled along the road, already seeing his breath from the frosty air, but he didn't do much about it. He just pushed his hands into his pockets, and hummed a bit to himself.
The next person on the guest list was China. That man was okay, he truthfully didn't know all too much about him. But he was pretty tall and strong, so he clearly wasn't stupid or prone to listening to every advice thrown at him.
Britain, too, was coming, the last person who had graciously accepted the invite. He was very elegant and proper, in all the right touches, although he could be a bit self-centered at some points. Russia couldn't help but swallow at the thought of him coming, even though Britain took no part of America's shame. He smoothly replied that his son had gained independence from him, what was he supposed to do? Especially after he had already tried to counsel him. America was just too much of a wild card to really be expected to listen to anything.
Well, Britain was definitely right about that.
Huffing into the air, he narrowed his eyes and stopped. The wind continued to banter around him, surprised at his sudden halt, and pushed him impatiently. Why did he have to get that letter today, of all days? And now he can't even enjoy himself like he used to the other times, or even bring himself to care about the decorations.
Spinning around, he stomped back the way he came from, much to the wind's protest, and slipped back inside the house after his walk, just as the lights in front of everybody's yards sprang to life for the night. A soft music played in the air, holding invisible strings that played with the feelings of everybody inside the house, and made sure to breathe a sigh of tranquility that was missing too often from the house.
Russia felt himself easing into the mood of the house, slowly thawing out his restless thoughts. This was supposed to be his time with his family, after all. Why ruin it with the thought of America, or even with the letter? They weren't going to meet until tomorrow, anyway.
The guests were going to be here in around half an hour. That was still enough time to mingle around his family and spread some more of the holiday cheer. And so, shrugging off his sweater, he hung it up and proceeded into the kitchen to see how things were going.
When he peeked inside, Belarus, Kazakhstan, and Latvia were all inside, grinning from ear to ear and carefully putting some potatoes into a white dish and sprinkling some bacon and greenery over the top, part of their traditional dinner. When his brother, Kaz, noticed him, he waved over.
"Hey, Rus! Where've you been? The boys had some sort of technical issue, and couldn't find you anywhere!"
He gestured to the front door. "Outside. I wanted to take a quick stroll before it got too late."
"Ah. Well, they figured it out, seems like," he said, stirring whatever was in the small pot in front of him.
Russia nodded. "Do you guys need any assistance?"
Belarus shook her head, leaned over the counter and wiped the grime that was on it from their food-making with a napkin. "I think we've got it, thanks! We're just finishing up, here."
Latvia smiled and rinsed off a bowl from the sink. "Yeah, now we're just trying to keep everything warm."
"Okay. Call if you need me."
Walking off, he met with the rest of his siblings, making sure that everything was okay. Estonia, Ukraine and Moldova were putting away the box of leftover house decorations; Uzbekistan and Kyrgyzstan had finally figured out why the outside lights hadn't turned on, and were now stuffing a very proud ladder back into its spot in the garage. But they had managed just fine without him, both making his chest swell with pride, and also pang with longing.
He remembered the first time they had to spend Christmas without their parents. The strain of Soviet Russia had gotten to everybody and they couldn't take it anymore. They just had to throw him in jail. Their mother tried her hardest to get him out of it, but then she disappeared too. It had been difficult, trying to find cheer among the wreckage that was their life, and all of his father's responsibilities landed on his shoulders.
But everybody was doing better, weren't they? They could forget, and so could he. Besides, some countries had to become adults at much younger ages than he did, and they handled it just fine.
Fixing his tie, he breathed out, discarding those thoughts from his head, just as a knock came from the door. The rest of his family quickly straightened out their shirts or dresses, briefly checking themselves in the mirror, before they opened the door, inviting their guests inside.
The first ones to come were North and South Korea. North wore his usual military-styled suit underneath his bulky jacket which he threw off, with a small flashing Christmas necklace hanging around his neck. South Korea wore a red sweater with a mini fireplace hanging on, and a small fire danced inside of it.
"Hey, nice attire!" Kaz said, winking at North and bumping his arm.
North narrowed his eyes at him and shuffled away. "Nobody asked you."
South threw his arms around his brother, smiling. "I made him wear it. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been in the festival mood!" Laughing, he was thrown aside by North, who glowered at him.
Russia stepped up, a soft smile gracing his lips, and offered his hand out. Both countries glanced at him, their eyes widening a fraction of a second, before they tentatively took his hand and shook it. "Velcome inside," he greeted, his accent coming out a bit. "I hope you enjoy our hospitality."
South nodded. "Of course! I'm happy to be here!" He turned to his brother. "멍청한 짓은 하지마 (Don't do anything stupid)," he said in Korean.
His shorter twin exhaled through his nose and crossed his arms, but didn't respond with anything. Ukraine stepped forward, swishing her arm out to the rest of the house. "Well, welcome in! Make yourselves at home. The other guests will arrive soon!"
They both took her invite and moved into the house, inspecting the little lights strewn up everywhere, and the burning candles. A Christmas song was jangling away, and Russia noticed that their quick steps slowed a bit as they embraced the warm welcome.
Everybody else was pretty much the same. Japan nearly pounced on Russia to give him a hug when she came barging in, and Canada and Britain politely nodded their heads, but stayed a little away from him.
Naturally, the entire group of countries migrated over to the living room, where the crowning glory of the season usually stood; the Christmas tree. They all expressed their delight in seeing the white flashing lights slowly fade on and off amid a strand of steady white lights and a collection of scrambled ornaments, and offered casual remarks of how they decorated their own trees. No presents hid underneath the trees's canopy, already having been opened and delighted over for long enough.
"What type of presents did you get?" Japan asked, her wide gold eyes innocently flicking over to where Russia stood.
"A pocket knife with my name carved into it, a fur coat with wolf fur, and some cash," he told her, watching as her ears soaked in not only his words, but everybody else's conversation around her. She grinned, her sharp teeth peaking out of her plump red lips.
"That's so cool! How does the wolf fur feel?" she asked, swishing her tail.
"It's very warm," he admitted, remembering how he had instantly wanted to try it out when he opened it. Kaz somehow knew he had always wanted one, and managed to buy one for him. "The fur itself is thick and it's not the softest, but it traps a lot of heat in it. What did you get?"
She launched into a full explanation of the jewels she received from her many fans, and all the different books, notepads and writing usentels that will take her years to use up.
"And I can now send out personalized letters to everybody with a specific pen color for each country!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air. "Wouldn't that be cool?" her eyes shone in the filelight that crackled.
Some will try to dig for answers. Beware of the seekers, they will turn their backs on you.
"Uh, yeah, that's exciting!" he said, trying to pawn his flinch off as just a stretch, and he brought his arm up across his chest, holding it so it stretched out, before switching to the other side. "What color would mine be?"
"Hmm." She eyed him, and Russia couldn't tell if she was trying to figure out more than just a perfect color for him. "I think you would have a maroon red, yeah? Either that or a navy blue, but I might give that color to North."
"Sounds about right." He tried to smile with her, but it felt off and forced. Luckily, she didn't raise any questions about it, and instead rambled on about how excited she was to read some of the novels.
After some time, Russia stood up and asked, "Who's hungry?"
Nobody objected to a dinner, and so they all headed towards the long wooden table that crawled over a large portion of the dining room that already held the plates and utensils. Thanks to Belarus and Latvia, the food was set up quickly, and after a short prayer for the food, everybody dug in.
Laugher was in the air everywhere, with the clinkling of dishware and hums of approval to the food itself. When Russia tasted the kartoshka, an explosion of flavor flooded his mouth, and the borsch was as sweet and herbaly as ever. His siblings had done a good job with the dinner, and he made sure to let them know.
Fun stories of their past camping trips were openly being shared, or of embarrassing pranks that they had done over at some friend's house. Everybody, even North and Canada, had relaxed and were just enjoying the moment of that Christmas day.
Peace truly was in the air, and all around everywhere. Russia knew why, too. It was ever since the agreement that, somehow, most of the world managed to form together.
Since then, Artificial Intelligence could be accessed through a swipe of a phone, and whatever question you had, it could answer it for you. This usually led to some major disputes quickly cooling down because the AI bot had offered a logical answer out of the scuffle.
Virtual Reality had become a large part of living, too. It was used for schools, work, and even field trips that cost only a fraction of what the real world would have. Science was quickly becoming married to it, as scientists could perform risky experiments without risking anything.
With these bounds in technology, countries have noticeably been more peaceful, confident in themselves and in tech that whatever problem did pop up, it could be answered. More time could be allocated to finding new discoveries, tuning up AI and VR, or even creating new technology products based on older ideas, like an electrical car and flying hoverboards.
As Russia looked around at all the smiling faces, he knew that because of those two leaps in technology, this Christmas celebration was happening the way it was. Without it, Russia still would have been fighting with them all over one dispute or another.
World peace had finally been solved.
Except for the letter.
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Ya I have no idea how the original creator did this
Words:3677