14 May 1955, Warsaw.
"Why'd you sign it?"
Her voice was rusted, as if it hadn't been used for quite a while. It was not really a wonder, as we seldom talked in the house of Russia. No, scratch that, his name was USSR now. It was a vast structure, not that I would use grand or magnificent. In truth, it was bleak and cold, and the only sounds we sometimes heard were the ones of USSR himself, wandering the halls with his god-damned pipe. I hated his pipe, it reminded me of the time before I lived with him, of the time I lived with West.
The smell of charred wood and smoke brought me back to the present. I glanced around, making sure Hungary was speaking to me. If she indeed was, she made no attempt to repeat what she had said. Maybe to her I was a lost soul, just like the others who kept their voices to themselves, their thoughts sealed in their heads. After all, what did we have except our minds?
"What do you mean?" I whispered. I did not want to hear myself, and what had become of my voice. I did not believe I had any of it left, it was a pain to know what had become of it. Had it withered to ashes, had it drowned in sorrow?
There was a flicker of light in the faraway sky, and I imagined it to be an aircraft of some sort. The aura it admitted was nowhere near a star. I had seen enough of the other sort to last me a lifetime.
Hungary looked different than before, she no longer had her headscarf, allowing her locks of cascading brown curls to flutter in the breeze. She did not answer me. Maybe she was aware I already knew what she was asking about.
"I heard West signed NATO. I… Nothing, forget I said anything." I turned away, wanting to leave. But in truth there was nowhere to go. My "home" was one of the rooms in USSR's house, and if I ran away now, every time I saw Hungary I would surely be overwhelmed with self pity.
"You can say it out. I miss him too." She called to me. Austria, she meant Austria. Not West, not that it really mattered.
I stopped amidst my tracks. "The pair of you split after the First War, have you not moved on?"
"And at that time I thought I would never see you again, and now we live together. I thought I would have forgotten him… The world does work in curious ways."
We were silent for a while, listening to the waters splash along the rock-strewn banks of the river. I don't really remember when the last time I stood so attentively was. There were constantly people around me back in the 30s 40s, there was never time for looking at the scenery. Occasionally the uniformed would drag me to the Eastern border, looking to the Sudetenland. Back then they had such determination in their eyes, I never would have thought this would be the end.
"Why did you sign it?" Hungary asked again. "Please, tell me. Let me know I'm not the only one thinking so."
"Then let me be blunt and quick." I never fancied poetry, it was bothersome. Old Fritz had tried to influence me with his music and philosophy, but I guess Grandpa Germania's blood ran deep in me. "He signed his own Pact. I do not wish to be lonely anymore. Maybe one day this will all end, but until then, let USSR form his own happy family. One marked by the official rejection of my own brother."
"The world works in curious ways, Prussia. Maybe it'll end with your official denial of USSR."
"Maybe, but until that call me East."
After that, we trudged back to the house to the East, where we knew anything but a warm fireplace and hot cocoa would wait us.