Forever | Countryhumans AU | RusAme/AmeRus

8

Russia picked up his pen, the tip hovering over his paper. He knew how to solve the question. He was going to. He observed the room for a while, realising he was the only one in there. It was ominous, but nothing seemed like it would stop him from writing down the answer. The moment the ink stained the paper, there was a loud creaking noise and the floor gave way,

into a seemingly bottomless, dark abyss.

Time seemed to slow down.

Reality bent itself forward and backwards.

The Russian fell into it, still on his chair. Everything seemed so tranquil as if it was floating, and then as if Russia and the things around him were metal and the bottom of the void were a magnet, they fell suddenly, quickly, and hit the ground with a loud bang.

And then all was still.

Russia sat up, gasping loudly for air. Cold sweat trickled down his back and he was trembling. As he steadied his trembles, Estonia stirred groggily in a chair from beside his bed. "Are you okay?"

Another nightmare...

"Esti? What are you doing here? What time is it?" Russia asked, confused. He took a nap after lunch, wanting to sleep off his anxiety. So why was the sky so dark and what was his younger sister doing in his room?

Estonia rubbed her eyes. "You slept pass dinnertime so I decided to come check on you. I realised that you were running a fever so I decided to stay here to take care of you." She motioned to the cloth and a plastic basin filled with water beside her. "It's 4 am, by the way."

Russia rubbed his forehead, wiping away cold sweat. "Does Uki know?" Estonia nodded. "He allowed me to stay here. He popped in an hour or two ago to make sure your temperature wasn't running too high."

He groaned. "You should go to bed, it's a school day. I'll manage." Estonia nodded quietly. "I'll leave the cloth and basin here, sleep well."

Russia wiped his face with the damp cloth as his sister left the room silently. He then stood up and stretched his fatigue off while walking to his desk. Tidying the piles of books that cluttered it and turning on his desk lamp, he set one about Russian folklore aside. 

He pulled a sheet of paper out of a folder and picked up a ballpoint pen. When he put the pen on the paper, nothing happened. No collapsing floors, no eerie creaking. So he wrote. Soon enough, the whole page was filled with his neat handwriting. 

When Russia was done, he folded the piece of paper, taking care to crease only the center of it, and hid it in between the cover and the last page of the book. He attached it with a paperclip so that it wouldn't fall out easily.

Russia closed the book and kept it into his bag. He switched off the lamp before leaving his room, crossing the hallway to the kitchen to begin preparing breakfast for his siblings. 

A frown creased Russia's face as he sliced some bread. What the heck was that weird nightmare? He strained to remember the question he was answering, but nothing came to mind. He fumbled with the crust of the bread he had removed, his frown deepening every minute he tried to recall it.

Russia growled under his breath out of frustration and stabbed the wooden cutting board with the knife he was holding, leaving a small groove in the wood. "Что блять! What's that stupid question?"

He shook his head in an attempt to forget that nagging thought, he was trying to make breakfast, not ask a question whose answer was practically worthless anyway. A pair of shuffling footsteps approached behind him and he stiffened slightly, his grip on the knife tightening.

Slowly, Russia peeked over his shoulder to see a bleary-eyed Kazakhstan. Kazakhstan yawned, ruffling and stretching his golden wings. "Are you feeling better?"

Russia nodded, relaxing both himself and his grip on the knife he held. "Yeah, I am. Thanks for asking. Kazakhstan glanced at the groove that Russia made on the cutting board, and asked, "Hey, you alright? You seem a bit frustrated, do you want to talk about it?"

Russia shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. Exhaling, he mumbled, "No, it's alright. Just an annoying question that keeps popping up in my head. I'm good, thanks."

Setting down the knife he was holding, Russia adjusted the brace on his wrist. Kazakhstan shrugged and picked up the knife to cut some sausages and tomatoes. "Okay, whatever you say. But y'know if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here."

"Okay," Russia replied, opening the fridge and taking out some butter, "Thanks for the offer." 

The two brothers worked silently and robotically together, Kazakhstan putting all the ingredients on the slices of bread and Russia placing them on plates and bringing them to the dining table. 

As they finished the fifteenth plate, the alarm clocks of their siblings started to ring and the first few of them began to drag their feet from their respective rooms to the table, yawning and rubbing their faces.

Russia sat at his seat at the table, but he didn't have the best appetite. He pushed his breakfast around his plate, only taking a few small bites out of it. Belarus looked across the table to him, concerned. Russia seemed disquiet and agitated about something, she observed.

A few minutes later, Russia was the last one at the table. His breakfast was still on the plate but he was staring at the wall opposite of him in a daze, as if looking at someone only he could see. 

Belarus set down the plates she was carrying to the kitchen and walked towards her older brother. "Russia? Are you still feeling unwell? You should skip school if you are, and get some rest, y'know?" 

Russia jumped up from his seat and forced his breakfast down, and said in a muffled voice, scooping his plate up from the table, "No, no, I'm okay, I just zoned out, I'll go."

Ukraine, Kazakhstan and Belarus exchanged glances. "What's up with him today?" Belarus mouthed, picking up the plates she had put on the table earlier. Ukraine shook his head, readjusting his flower crown so that it sat comfortably on his head. "I don't know," he mouthed back.

Kazakhstan shrugged. "Woah, hey, don't look at me, I don't know either. Maybe it's something personal, he'd share it if he was comfortable. Or maybe he's just tired," he suggested in a whisper as they walked towards the kitchen together. 

Even though the three siblings appeared to have brushed aside the pestering question, they were still concerned for their oldest brother. 

Russia didn't know.

He believed he was alone in the world, and that was alright to him, or at least he thought so.

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Sorry for the extremely late update, I will try to write as many chapters as possible this week to get back on track!!