Hetalia Oneshots/ drabbles

Together (RusAmeChu)

'Shoot for the moon even if you miss, you'll land among the stars.'

There was a bit of irony with this. Back on earth, Alfred dreamed of being unique, of achieving the impossible and he had, in a way. Whether his name would appear on headlines with praises or in an obituary, posed as an useless detail now.

Alfred had been picked within a pack of equally skillful and ruthless contestants, trained under ridiculous circumstances and yet, he wasn't the only one. Two more had achieved what he did and they were going to launch.

Together.

The information had been hurried, he had no idea who they were or what they'd do. All he knew was that his superiors asked him to bear with the company for the sake of 'international friendship' which was on its own, an euphemism for rivalry.

Astronaut, taikonaut, cosmonaut.

It was a scam, all those names, those terms to differentiate them, were left devoid of meaning once the spaceship left the Earth's atmosphere, once they crossed the spot where communications with their headquarters reached and once they left their guard down.

All Alfred could think of now is how he had never used those words. He never went around telling the others that he was an astronaut because it felt wrong, 'astronaut' made it sound as if he knew what he was doing or where they were heading.

"Don't trust them, don't let them get the upper hand." That's what his superiors had told him but it didn't matter, not here, not now. Two hours after being shipped away from the Milky Way, he found himself reaching out to his crew mates for a speck of friendly interaction, only to find their speaking ability stripped from them by the protection suits and helmets.

There's no up and down, there's no north or south, there's no east and west in here and it was beyond stupid and cruel to forbid them from speaking this way, to have them tied to the artifacts that kept them from communicating for the sake of oxygen.

They were going to spend at least a year together, hopefully they'd have a chance to return by then, but it was impossible for Alfred to keep his lips sealed over the span of a year.

In theory, they should be able to communicate. Alfred knew they had learned his language but he couldn't hear anything besides his own voice inside the helmet.

Even a day of silence had been tortuous enough, he had shared a couple of glances, of hand signs with them, their demeanor confirming that they had been taught the same, to distrust and rely on themselves.

It was ridiculously silent, so he took the first step on the third day. Pointing out the tags on their suits at first, well, the one he could read. 'Braginsky', the display had earned him a nod but nothing more.

Alfred felt like an idiot, like in that Tarzan scene where he points at himself to say his name. So, later when he tried to talk with the other. 'Wang'. Alfred kept the name on his mind, not wanting to receive the earlier response.

Math and music are universal languages, right? So he tried with some calculations, only for the others to diligently solve them and return an equation back at him. The prospect of a challenge struck him late.

He started to write. Only the necessary information. Their location, the repairs, the rations and the time on the spaceship became bearable.

They stuck around each other, a silent agreement. For the very least, they could provide physical company, an assurance of a weakly achieved safety inside the ship.

Alfred began to speak out loud, not waiting for answers. Sometimes he fooled around, making up silly voices and dialogues for his companions. It didn't matter. They couldn't hear him, though there were moments where the others would tap him or shake their heads at him.