Russia blinked as his alarm clock beeped, once again failing at its job. He'd not slept at all last night...as usual.

Sighing, he turned off the alarm and got out of bed, glancing out his barred window as he stood. It was snowing heavily, he could tell it would turn into a blizzard before midday. He sighed again, this was going to be a long day.

He opens his closet and pulled out a bright blue button down shirt and a pair of soft worn jeans. He dressed, covering his shirt and jeans with his black boots and long brown coat.

Before putting on his scarf, he held it in front of him and glared at it.

How he hated that flimsy, stained piece of fabric. All the memories, all the stains, and the reason he couldn't get rid of it.

It was the only barrier between him and extreme loneliness. It was his single piece if proof that someone cared about him and didn't fear him, once upon a time at least.

He wrapped the scarf around his neck and left his room.

The blizzard forming outside made the steel hallway that much colder, his breath came out in puffs as he thought about the terrible atrocities he'd committed in this part of the house.

Every time the human in charge of him needed something from someone, he was tasked with makih them more cooperative, by any means necessary.

Those sessions never ended well, human or nation. After each one, he'd take a scalding shower, washing away all the evidence and burning away the emotions, before locking himself away, to cry and scream apologies at the walls.

He hated what he'd become, what he did. That was why he smiled the way he did. That was why he acted the way he did.

Distance.

If you aren't close to anyone, it hurts less when you have to hurt them.

That was the reason behind Russia, that is why he will stay lonely.