A teardrop made its way down Russia's face as he was experiencing both guilt and joy at the same time. It was a mix of feelings completely new to him. He had no idea of how he should show appreciation to England and France for all the kindness that was given to him the day before. He did not know the proper way to thank them, nor did he know what to say. After some thought he ultimately decided to show gratitude by actions, he would do his best at work. And surely he would do everything in order to pay back his debt.
This guilt he felt was justified. Someone payed for his flat, all the furniture in it, and had even thought of buying some food. That person would also take care of rent and bills, at least until Russia would be of age, with a full-time and well-paying job. Not only this, but the boy had never been used to be treated this nicely. And when someone has grown up without ever been faced with concern and tenderness, never have received a gentle look, a smile... well it eventually creates a huge impact on a person.
In all this, Russia was sitting on his bed. It was pretty early in the morning and he now remembered that he had to move if he wanted to be present for his first shift on time. But fortunately he had never needed much time to get ready, so he managed to leave on time and still arrive on schedule at the patisserie.
Russia hadn't been able to pack up many clothes, this was due to limited time and space in his luggage. As a consequence he was planning to go shopping so that he wouldn't have to wear the same stuff everyday. There was a problem though: he had no idea of where to go. Yes, he could use google, but internet couldn't really give him guidance of which stores had good and cheap stuff and which were to avoid. There was another issue: he didn't have much money either. His plan was to postpone this task for as much as was possible, and in the meantime he would judge which of the English siblings would be the best one to help him in this.
When entering the pastry shop he was saluted with a slight yet cheerful smile coming from Canada. He had been probably waiting for his arrival. Russia decided to speak first, as he had prepared what he would say during his way here.
'Good morning, Canada,' yes, just that, but on his defense he did say it with a jolly tone of voice and a little smile.
'Mornin' Russia, slept well?' The other reciprocated.
'Yes, thanks for asking. I hope you had a good night too.' Russia wanted to bury himself one hundred meters in the ground, what if he said something wrong?
'Tell me, have you had breakfast yet?' Canada smirked as if he had something in mind, while hoping the other's answer would be negative. And it was so.
Contently, Canada invited Russia in the kitchen, it was flooded by an appetizing scent. The pastries had just been tool out of the oven, and France was engaged in bringing trays over trays to the bakery display counter. Russia's mouth was watering, the sweets looked and smelt deliciously, and he suddenly felt hungry. In his luck, the Canadian's plan was to make him taste what he had cooked earlier.
The boy glanced at the other, Canada grinned even more and proudly declared: 'I've been practicing to be a chef for many years, I'd be greatly glad if you agreed to try one of my creations!'
Russia simply nodded, but in a way that the other would have been able to notice the excitement in his gesture. And indeed the pastries were extraordinary. As he was eating Russia instinctively closed his eyes, it was that good. Canada too was delighted his new coworker was enjoying his work. It was a very nice moment, for the both of them. Perhaps for the hockey player more than for the other.
Canada was the kind of individual one often forgets about. He's kind and acts passively with everyone, he's quiet and always stayed apart from the group. Meeting someone most similar to him had really improved his mood.
Russia had been feeling distinctly satisfied when his shift had terminated, which not only went well, but had also transformed into an occasion to bond with Canada, who took advantage of every excuse to go to the kitchen just so he could exchange a word or two with Russia and see how he was doing.
He wouldn't have much to do until the afternoon, therefore he had decided to follow France's advice of the day before and head to Central Park.
The park had opened earlier in the morning, but since it still was barely past 8 a.m. on a weekday, not many people were to be seen. However, the zoo opens at 10 a.m., so to go there and meet Australia he would have to wait for some time. It wasn't a problem, of course, Russia quite enjoyed going for walks. He had to admit, in certain instances he got small flashbacks to when he used to stroll around the numerous gardens in Petersburg.
The colors of orange, maroon and brown predominated the scene, most leaves where already on the ground, creating a crunchy carpet that added some sound to the atmosphere. Relaxing is a word that would come to mind in order to describe all this. The cold wind delicately blowing and brushing against Russia's skin messing up his front hair would make anyone shiver, well not Russia. The boy was used to much lower temperatures. You could say autumn was already coming to an end, and pretty soon winder would knock at the door. It was Russia's favorite season, he liked the snow and the peace that white veil brought along.
Many memories, dialogues, worries and such were passing through the Russian's mind. On he outside he did look pensive, but one couldn't possibly point out any of the emotions he was feeling at that moment. He continued walking, looking around, till he eventually reached the entrance to the Central Park Zoo. It would open in 10 minutes, but there were already some people in line waiting, he joined them.
He decided to just follow the map, his objective was actually to find Australia, and with some luck he didn't have to explore for too long. The cheerful man was talking to some of his colleagues while they were working on feeding some animals. When he noticed the Russian, he hurriedly excused himself and approached him with a blinding smile.
'Hey Russia! Didn't expect you would come here!' He started.
Russia was taken aback by his loud voice and attitude, he internally slapped himself for standing there without answering. 'Hi, Australia. I didn't know what else to do so I decided to-'
He was interrupted, 'Yeah yeah it's reasonable, after all it is a pretty touristy choice to visit Central Park! I'm glad you're here, I didn't get to chat to you enough yesterday.'
Australia pulled Russia along with him to a less crowded spot, as they were standing in the middle of the pathway before. He leaned on a fence, and started rambling about his morning and stuff. '...also you won't believe this! Just after you left the house yesterday America showed up! I genuinely hadn't seen him for something like a week! Ugh if you just stayed for a little longer you would have met him. Such a shame. Anyways, there he was walking past us not even saying ''hello,'' well then he barely spared a glance, and I thought he was not going to say anything, but then he asked ''I suppose everything went smoothly,'' mother nodded and *poof* he was gone to his room.'
Russia was absentmindedly listening before, but as soon as America was mentioned, Australia had his full attention.
'I honestly haven't seen him this morning, I think he left the house to go to work way earlier than everyone else. I don't understand why he works so much, plus he is loaded, but he doesn't even talk to us much about it. I just don't get him.' The Australian continued.
'Please, if you see him, relate to him my gratitude for the help.' The words slipped out of Russia's mind, regretting them almost instantly after hearing the response.
'Haha sure, though I do think you should tell him yourself,' he paused, 'you do have his number, don't you?'
Russia nodded.
'Oh- I think I should get back to work, ahah! If you need anything else, just ask away.'
'Uhm actually there is one thing,' Australia tilted his head, gesturing him to go on, 'I kinda need clothes, don't know where to go and how to-, well perhaps you could tell me...' He wasn't able to form a coherent sentence and perhaps felt even embarrassed to ask such a thing.
'Oh please, I'm not really the most fashionable sibling as you can see,' he signaled his uniform, which is what he most often wore, 'if you want to go to the best shops and get the best stuff around, you gotta ask America. He's the ''model'' of the family ahahah!'
Russia gave a little ironic smile, he wasn't going to ask America anything like that.
'Thank you, Australia,' he said as he started backing away.
'Just call me Aussie, and you're welcome. Come chat again every once in a while, 'kay?'
'Sure.' They parted ways.
At lunch time, Russia used the few dollars he had to get himself a cheap sandwich and some water. He felt hopeless. Back home he used to have enough money to buy all he needed; but the few pennies he had now wouldn't be able to buy him anything. Of course he was grateful he wasn't homeless! But he couldn't help but feel a slight sense of dread lurking inside him. He wasn't particularly fond of the idea of being dependent on people.
The main reason was because he didn't fancy being a burden to someone. The second reason, but maybe the one that tormented him the most, was that he was considerably frightened that they would cast him aside, throw him in the gutter as soon as they could. And him, having gotten used to rely on them, would be left stranded. Russia had been alone for all his life, but he was scared, no, terrified of being forsaken. Useless to say, it was most likely his father and the constant notion of him abandoning Russia someday that created this preoccupation in the first place. But the boy, as of now, couldn't imagine what he would do if those kind people who were helping him would just stop doing so. He would end up in the streets, no food, no shelter.
Besides, he was also afraid of getting attached to them. Canada had been so nice to him, Aussie too! But what if they're just acting. What if England or France told them to be that way for the pure aim of appearing polite. But as soon as Russia would turn 18, they will just turn their back on him. Ah, what is he thinking? They probably won't keep up the act till then, they'll drop it even sooner!
The expression on Russia's face was gradually darkening, some passers-by noticed him and were quite intimidated. He was currently sitting at one table outside some kind of bar, the little round table had an empty chair just in front of the one Russia was sitting on.
That spot was soon filled by someone. Some guy took the liberty to sit down in front of the Russian, not saying anything, just waiting for the other to notice him first.
Russia's train of thought was so abruptly interrupted. His serious complexion suddenly grew into an annoyed one as the boy looked up to scrutinize the intruder. A monotone expression appeared on the other's face, 'Aussie texted me, he said you were here and probably wanted to meet me. So here I am!'
Russia didn't answer, his gaze was busy inspecting the man before himself. That initial bothered look was nowhere to be seen, in its place, there was now a neutral one. At least on the outside, Russia didn't really pay attention to whatever the other just said. After a moment of silence, he snapped back to reality and realized he had been staring for some awkward amount of time.
The man noticed Russia was attentive again, and decided to continue talking, 'So?' He tilted his head, resting his chin on his fist, elbow on the table. His face relaxed, expression solemn. His voice seemed filled with boredom, or maybe it was tired.
'It's a pleasure meeting you,' the Russian let out, with full composure and sternness, 'United States of America.'
'Pleasure's all mine, Russian Federation.'
...
Author's notes:
I started writing this chapter a month ago then forgot about it. Well now it's done. I wanted it to be longer initially, but perhaps I'll just edit it in the future. Well now we're going to finally get into the actual story!
I've been quite busy with school and stuff, but like I said before, I intend to finish this.
May upload some new chapters soon, or may not; depends on school really.
Word count: circa 2200