Hetalia kink meme part 21
axis powers
hetalia kink meme
part 21
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I had nothing but photographs, black and white and wrinkled with age, and names, scribbled in cursive cyrillic on a torn scrap of parchment. And a city.
I gave all this and the contents of my pockets to the man behind the counter. Five dollars and thirty three cents in American dollars, an amount I couldn’t identify in rubles. A rusted bullet I’d picked up in the sand somewhere. My watch, still set to Eastern standard time. An old roll of twine.
The man behind the counter just stared blankly down.
Then, “I do not work here.”
And walked away.
I blinked, swept my things up into my hands and shoved them back into my pockets, moving after him in the same motion. “Wait!” The crumpled parchment in my fist. “Can’t you help me?”
He stopped, and did not turn. “Your Russian is pitiful.” In English.
“Do you speak...?”
“Yes.”
Still he didn’t turn.
I stared at his back, careful not to crush the paper in my palm. “Please,” I breathed quietly. “I was told you could help.”
The man turned and covered the considerable space between us in three short strides. His eyes flashed, a brilliant purple, and settled on my hands.
“Show me.”
I held out the scrap of paper, my hand trembling. He snatched it, unwavering, and uncrumpled it, then stared hard at the faded names.
“Russians, all of them,” he observed, in a manner which might have been flippant if not completely emotionless. “What else is there to say?”
“I’m looking for them.”
The man’s lips settled into a thin line. “I cannot help you, devushka. There are hundreds of millions of people living in my country.”
I looked away. “They’re dead.”
He paused for a moment, as though lost in something other than thought, before melting into something not quite a laugh. His lips curled upwards in something not quite a smile, his eyes bright with something not quite mirth, and I’d have to describe it as not quite haunting.
“There are /billions/ of dead.”
I sighed, and my hands found their way back to my pockets. Fur-lined, for the Russian winter. “Can you at least tell my how to get to Torzhok?”
“Torzhok?” He raised an eyebrow. “Why would a lost Amerikanskii need to get to Torzhok?”
“I told you. I’m looking for people.”
“Dead people.”
“Yeah.”
He looked at me and tilted his head in a simple, innocent question: “Why?”
I sighed, the paper warm against my fingers. “They’re my family.”
“Oh.” His expression faded to one of...boredom? And he rolled his eyes. “You are one of /those/ Amerikanskii.” He started to turn away.
“Wait!” I ran around him and cut off his path.
He went on as though he hadn’t stopped, “You come here looking for your past, but you do not truly want it. You are American now, da?” I nodded slowly.
“Then why do you return to Mother Russia, when I am no longer your motherland?”
“You killed them,” I said quietly.
“I did not. They left.”
I stamped my foot down in the snow, and it crunched without making a sound. “No, my grandfather left! And he’s the only one who could! You killed the rest. /Killed them/, in cold blood. All his brothers and sisters, his parents...my grandmother’s, too. You killed them and I came to find them.”
He stared back at me, unfazed. “Is that why you came here?”
“Yes.”
“To find them?”
“Their graves.”
He tilted his head again, this time with tangible sarcasm. “Why?”
“Because they’re family!”
He laughed bitterly, his breath frozen at his lips. “Go home, devushka. There is nothing for you here.”
I stared at my feet, an emptiness eating at my chest. “But you killed them...”
He smiled a smile that was neither happy nor sad, in something that was neither acceptance or denial, and held out his gloved hands at his sides. “There are /billions/ of dead.”
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Good luck to other anons, I'll be following this closely~ eue
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Sorry, I blathered :( But really, fantastic job!
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I'm happy you were able to find some family still in Russia
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