Notes:
Bulgaria: Vasil Petrov Delchev.
Romania: Mircea Ionescu. (Mircea is pronounced Meercha.)
**When I say Football, I mean what everybody commonly calls Football, not American Football.
Later a few characters will be nyo version, to add more diversity and realism. You have been warned :).
Hetalia does not belong to me.
Chapter 1
- Swing -
Vasil sits and listens, unable to understand less than half of the words being spoken. He looks at his teacher move from one end of the classroom to the other, writing words in German and erasing them quickly before he can even begin to decipher their meanings. Yet he continues to write anyway, trying to prove to himself that he will be able to read them someday.
His classmates chat and laugh, even when he tries his best, Vasil is simply unable to interact with them. He is always left out.
In that classroom, he's different. An anomaly. Something that does not belong and will never be able to no matter what.
He won't ever admit the feeling of loneliness he feels, it's asphyxiating, incarcerating. He simply prefers to pretend that everything is fine. Smile and nod, don't think too much.
The bell rings, finally announcing his little and temporal freedom. Gathering his belongings, he hurries to get out as fast as he can. But he's an unfortunate being, as someone crashes against him. He quickly apologizes, just because it is easier that way. Sadly, complex words—words he should not understand, full of hurtful meanings told to him too many times are, yet again blurted at him:
"Stupid immigrant, look where you walk!"
Giving up, he just ignores the insult and starts the journey back home.
He's unable to stop replaying the scene that just happened, even when he tries hard to erase it from his memory. He realizes the insult does affect him and brings down, if possible, his mood. Going back home would only make it reach new lows.
So he does what he is forbidden to do, and he decides to maybe delay his arrival for a while.
Not sure what to do or where to go, he walks aimlessly, eventually finding along his path a park he has not visited before because he has rarely gone out to do something recreational in the last months. Outside there is a man with a cart selling ice-cream.
With the little money he has, he buys one and enters the park to sit on a swing.
Doing everything to avoid thinking, he closes his eyes and swings in silence while slowly eating. Giving in to thoughts wouldn't be good. Memories creep in and everything turns out just too dark, too painful.
His small moment of peace is soon disrupted by a sound coming from nearby.
He looks around to find the cause of the sound, for it is coming from his left. A kid of around his age had sat down and started to swing. That exact swing, being rusty, emits a high, annoying sound.
Creeeek, Creeeek, Creeeek. The sound can be described like this, anything but music to the ears.
It seems the kid realizes that, stops swinging, and says to no one in particular:
"Uh, that's annoying."
"Yes." Vasil replies, because the sound was, indeed, really annoying.
The reply startles the kid who looks around, trying to find the source of the voice. When he does that Vasil realizes the kid is blind. He's wearing dark shades and from his left wrist hangs a white cane.
"To your right." Welcoming the indication, the kid looks at Vasil, strangely more accurately than he expected and smiles at him.
"Hi-hi. Sorry about that. There isn't another one that's free, right?" He asks while pouting.
"Eh, no." Vasil replies, because there really isn't. There are only two.
"Damn! Oh well," he states sadly and gets up and out of his place.
"Let's swap." Vasil tells the kid, though he's not sure why. Probably pity, but he feels that's not the real reason.
"It's not necessary, really," is the reply, but Vasil just gets up and takes the kid from his wrist and leaves him next to the swing.
"Thank you! I really like this game. Hey, what's your name?" he asks while now swinging without making any noise.
"Vasil. Yours?"
"Mircea." he says cheerfully.
They don't chat again. Vasil wishes he could be able to chat freely with the boy but knows he will probably embarrass himself, so he avoids any type of conversation. He just stares at Mircea, who is now swinging.
The way Mircea moves from one side to the other doesn't look fun. It just looks monotonous and mechanical, routinely even. The blank expression that took over the kid does not help either.
Vasil is not sure how much time has passed, but now he no longer has the ice-cream and feels tired.
Before taking his leave, he glances back at Mircea who just keeps doing the same slow and half-hearted movements.
"Bye." Vasil politely waves.
"Eh? Later!" replies Mircea, surprised.
Vasil goes back home, maybe slower than he should. Once inside, for a fraction of a second he hopes to be greeted or just told something.
No one says anything, because there is no one else at home.
-x-
Vasil is supposed to get back the marks of the very first two tests he took since the start of the school year.
He does horribly in geography. He didn't understand most of the questions, so he ended up answering what he thought the question was about. He did guess two correctly...
The second test was math. He does pass it, since there wasn't much language involved in that one.
Even if he feels proud of the math one, the pride doesn't last long, as he notices there are a few of his classmates looking at him mockingly.
He lowers his head and stares at his desk. It's been hard, very hard since he moved to Germany a few months ago. Horrible enough he doesn't even know his classmates names.
Lost in thoughts, he ends up deciding to go to the same park as the day before, sitting again on the swing.
Not much time pasts before the kid of the day before arrives.
"Hi." Mircea greets him.
"Aren't you supposed to be blind?" Vasil exclaims, not exactly sure what to believe.
Mircea just giggles and sits.
"Yes, I'm blind and always alone at this hour, really, it's been like that for months. And you are making noises. Huffing and sighing! What are you? An old man?"
"Eh, OK..." Vasil answers, pretty sure he only understood part of what he said.
"Your German sucks." Mircea teases.
"You are not kind. Aren't blind people kind or something?"
"Really? Who told you that? It's so inaccurate!" the other asks while giggling again.
"Tch. And yes, I'm having trouble talking with people..." Vasil finally admits, ashamed.
"Oh, poor you."
"Evil."
"I'm sorry. From where are you? Not German, for sure!"
"D'oh. Bulgarian."
"That's not very original! Well, it's not like your parents went very deep into the calendar to name you either..."
"What! You-!" Vasil says, angered, not sure what to make of the boy.
"Hey, c'mon, don't get mad! I'm Romanian! As original as you! I come from those dark lands that everybody believes is full of...Mexicans."
Vasil is unable to hold back the laughter. He believes Mircea is absolutely weird—at first he's rude and then he throws bad jokes. It's a change from what's he's used to hearing.
"At least you are honest..." he finally manages to say.
"I'm very, very honest! Question time! When did you move here? How old are you? Where do you live?"
"Hey, too many questions, why you want to know?"
"Because I want to kidnap you!" Mircea says darkly.
"EH? WHAT?"
"This cane," he says while swinging his cane "It's not a cane, it's a laser blade created by the FBI and with it I'll beat you and kidnap you, then I'll ask for a ransom! Also I'm actually a super agent, with bionic vision!"
"...You want to hit me with your cane..?" asks Vasil confused.
"Your German sucks." Mircea says in defeat.
"You already told me that."
"Yeah. It sucks a lot."
"I moved here a few months ago...Around 5." says Vasil while counting with his fingers.
"Now you are answering? Ah, I see you are a hard one, eh."
"When did you move here?"
"I'm the one who does the questions here!"
"Aha."
"Some years ago, almost three." answers Mircea, and his tone doesn't even hide the bitterness.
"How old are you?"
"12."
"Funny." admits Vasil while giving a detailed glance at his new friend? He's not sure yet. Mircea is small, and the fact that he's wearing clothes a little bit bigger makes him even smaller.
"What's funny?" asks Mircea after a long silence.
"You look like 7 and speak like you were a perverted old man." he answers with pure honesty. Which makes Mircea frozen in his place with a horrified look.
"I'll grow! You will see! I'll be tall and handsome! With muscles too!" Mircea adds suddenly, while doing gestures with his arms.
"You will be disappointed." comments Vasil, trying hard to not laugh.
"Meanie."
"I'm sorry."
"You didn't tell me your age."
"13."
"Hey, you aren't that much older! I'm sure I'm taller than you!"
Mircea gets up, moves next to Vasil, takes him by the arm and gets him up so they are head to head, then touches around to see how tall the other boy is. The whole scene is hilarious, since Mircea touches around without care and with more strength than necessary, as if he was actually pushing Vasil.
Then he realizes he's smaller...by a lot. He makes a frustrated face and checks again.
"So...you fancy high heels?" he finally says.
"No."
"Can't you at least lie? I'm disabled here! Put some happiness in my dark life!"
"That's...poetic."
"I know right? I read a lot! Well, used to read, now I listen or er, ah! It's complicated!"
"You look complicated."
"Me? Nah, I'm an easy guy."
Mircea sits again, this time on the floor, and Vasil cannot help but the feel a chill when the boy looks straight at him, as if thinking of something, tapping his fingers against his knee.
"What?" he asks after getting tired of being stared at by someone who shouldn't be able to stare.
"You know, tall people have it hard in their life."
"Eh?"
"Yeah, like, your clothes are harder to find, you need bigger doors and cars...and like it's shittier to get on a plane. The air pressure, it can kill you...or so they say."
"I've never being on a plane...so I don't know."
"You poor being! You miss so much fun!..I've never being in one either."
"Weirdo."
"Unique, I like the word unique." Mircea says while poking Vasil's leg with his cane.
"If you say so. Hey, hm, was it hard for you to learn German?"
"Uh, well not that much. I'm smart, you know."
"That wasn't helpful."
"Ooooh! Having trouble learning?" Mircea says with a big Cheshire smile.
"No! I'm just an slow learner!"
"You just called yourself slow..."
"Not that! I me-"
"It's OK to be slow. Just don't get crushed! Or stepped on!"
"It's not funny! You bastard!" An angry Vasil leaves the place running.
"Oh, did he just leave dramatically? Maybe I shouldn't have been so cruel...Ah...what an idiot."
-x-
The following day, nothing new happens until the last period, where Vasil's math professor tells him to stay for a chat.
The moment everybody leaves the classroom the professor approaches wearing a kind smile, unusual for someone who is quite the strict person.
"I noticed you have had a hard time adapting." he tells him slowly.
Vasil doesn't reply right away, not sure if telling the truth will benefit him, but since the professor intentions seem good, he is honest:
"Yes, professor. I'm having trouble with the language."
"Indeed, I realized. Look, you need someone who can teach you. You can find someone on your own or if you ask the school, someone will be able to help you." explains, yet again slowly while making signs with his hands to communicate the message better.
"I understand."
"Please, try to decide and get one fast." the professor says, adding a subtle glare at the end.
"I will. Can I go home, now?"
"Yes. Have a safe trip."
"Thank you."
Vasil is not sure about what to do. He does not want the school's help, since it would be embarrassing if any of his classmates knew, and he already had trouble getting into that school, so asking for help would make him a bother...
Yet again Vasil goes to the park, and he's not even sure why. Mircea was cruel the day before. Probably to get some revenge.
When he gets there Mircea is already waiting for him. Strangely enough he's holding his cane as if it was a whip and was about to hit someone.
"Oh my, we got a masochist over here." he says tauntingly.
"Hey! Is that something you are supposed to say? Where did you learn that?"
"Porn. You?"
"I'm not a masochist!"
"Avoiding the question, eh."
"I won't answer that!"
"You could just lie and say 'in an action movie'." Mircea says while getting up to be able to tease the other boy from nearby. Cued to the action, Vasil steps back.
"I don't lie!" he almost screams.
"You are really easy." laughs Mircea.
"Bastard!"
"You really need to learn more insults."
"Ah, you will see!" shouts Vasil angrily while leaving yet again.
"Dammit, I made him leave again..." Mircea's speech is interrupted by his stomach making his hunger known to him. "Should have asked if he had something to eat...Sigh."
-x-
Really angry this time, Vasil leaves the park and walks with no direction. He's just mad for wasting his time with Mircea, deep inside hoping that he could have at least made a friend with similar conditions to his. He does not realize until stopping that he's lost.
Despair takes over him for a second, but recovers fast. He will just look around the names of the streets and ask someone. Getting to a main avenue will help him find himself.
Help is not needed the moment he sees the street and the number. He has a general idea of where to go.
"Didn't even need to ask, eh!" he exclaims, receiving some weird glares from bystanders. He can hear someone say "For God's sake, use German!" He just sighs and starts walking back home.
This part is new to him and has more houses rather than shops. Nothing changes until later, when a big green space starts. Giving a quick view at the space, he sees kids of different ages playing. The place is in fact a football field.
He stays to watch for a while with envy. He likes playing that sport, but sadly hasn't found any time to do so in months. The players aren't bad—really good, actually.
Looking around he notices the place is actually a club. It makes sense if the kids are this good. Probably expensive and only good players get in.
Sighing, he hurries to get back home, for if he gets there late he will get in trouble.
-x-
He knows he's being really stupid, but he comes back to the park the next day, because he will have his revenge somehow.
Mircea isn't there yet, so he waits while staring off into space.
It takes him a while to realize someone is touching his arm.
"You back? You are weird." greets Mircea before Vasil even speaks.
"Eh? Hi, idiot."
"Oh, insulting, eh. Still mad? I gotta say, coming back does show that you like maso-"
"Shut up!"
"Okie. I'm gonna stop, so what's up?"
"Uh, nothing new. Boring day at school. You?"
"Boring day at school too!"
"Hey...if you don't mind..." Vasil starts shyly.
"Spit it out."
"What are you being taught at school anyway?"
"Rude! What else? The same stuff you do! Just differently."
"OK, OK. What do I know..."
"Weeeell, in your defense I do have shorter periods. I get out earlier than other kids."
"I see, how short?"
"Classes finish at 12."
"That's like two hours less...Wait, what do you do in those two hours?"
"I go to the library."
"Everyday? That's nerdy."
"Yes! And on the weekends I'm there until late! And it's not nerdy!"
"Woah, that's a lot...And yes, it's nerdy."
"No! It's not!"
"It is."
"I'm smart, you dumb, you cannot understand the beauty of reading."
"That's so lame excuse to hide the fact you are actually boring. Heck, probably I'm the only person that chats with you."
"Argh! No!" Mircea says and with an accuracy he shouldn't have hits Vasil with his cane on the head before taking off.
"Ouch! That hurt!" he exclaims, then notices the smaller kid walking away. "Oh! Wait Mircea!" but it's too late...
"I guess I shouldn't have called him nerdy...Ouch, my head hurts, canes shouldn't hit that hard. Wait! No! He did it again!"
-x-
"I'm back for round 4." announces Vasil, while trying to sound secure.
"Oh, it's you. Gonna insult me again?" Mircea asks, trying to sound offended.
"Hey, didn't meant to offend you. Sorry you are so touchy."
"Still at it?" with the answer, the cane moves dangerously near Vasil's head.
"Sorry...Wait a moment here! You started it! Why Am I apologizing for?"
"Let's make a truce then."
"OK, for now."
"For now? Meeeaaan. Hey want me to speak slower?"
"...Yes please."
"You don't have friends, don't you?" Mircea asks after a long silence.
"...No, I don't..."
"I wonder why. No wait, I don't."
"Schoolmates don't like me."
"Let me guess, because you can't take a joke?"
"No, because my German sucks...and I'm Bulgarian..."
"Ah, I understand...I'm sorry." Mircea whispers. "They will get tired soon, don't worry about that. Just ignore them." he adds with a sad smile.
"You think?"
"Yeah. Really just give it some time."
"...Did that happen to you before?"
Mircea doesn't reply. He just gives an acid laugh, long and full of tiredness. Vasil just stares, getting the hint.
"Hey, Vasil, don't you miss it? I mean, back home..."
"Yes, I do. I don't like this place."
"Ah, same here. I feel out of place, sigh."
"I don't like the city actually."
"Cities or this city?"
"Cities. I like more green spaces..."
"Had a big house back home? I'm envious."
"No, at all, but where we lived there were many free spaces." Vasil's not able to hold the nostalgia while recalling how his town looked.
"Yes! Just like home! No one took care of those lots, the grass grew so much!" Mircea says while laughing. "I remember a neighbor cut the grass every now and then because his son asked him to! He always did it so pissed off, it was so much space!"
"Poor guy."
"Nah, else I wouldn't have had where to play. Now, tell me how it was where you lived!"
With both of them feeling happier they chat about their hometowns for hours, telling silly stories that for an adult might sound petty, but for them mean the world.
The tension and awkwardness gone, they are both able to forget about their latent problems.
Vasil checks the hour and realizes it's late and if he wants to avoid any trouble, he should start heading back home now. Disappointed time flew too fast and he announces his leave.
"I need to go. It's getting late. Hm, eh, do you need help getting back home?"
"At all! I'm fine."
"Ok. Bye Mircea."
"Bye-bye Vasil!"
On the way back home Vasil feels like he's in a good mood, enough that finding his home empty does not even faze him.
-x-
Vasil's still waiting for his father to come home. He ponders whether he should cook or wait for a while, as it's almost 9 and he hasn't eaten since midday when he ate some fruits.
His train of thoughts is interrupted by the door opening and his father entering, with a tired face as always.
"Hi Dad."
"Hello." He replies while sitting on a chair, "Did you cook yet?"
"No, was waiting for you."
"I see, I'll do it then."
While his father cooks, silence takes over the scene. The only audible noise is the frying pan that's being used. They don't exchange words, not even when Vasil passes the dishes to be used.
Once dinner is finished, both give thanks for the food and eat. When his father's done, he just stands up and tells Vasil:
"Don't skip school tomorrow. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Dad."
Vasil gives a last glance at his father, who just entered his room. He feels that telling him that tomorrow is Saturday would earn nothing. It only makes him wonder if his father is so overworked that he loses track of time.
With a sigh he gets up and cleans everything. In the end, that's the only way he can help.
-x-
It's Monday and both boys are yet again at the park, doing absolutely nothing but exchanging lazy conversations when Mircea suddenly says, "Gotta admit, I like you. You are fun."
"Eh? Thanks. You aren't as bad as you lead to believe." Vasil answers unknowingly with an smile.
"Oh my, thank you. In any case, it's late! Isn't it? I should start heading back home."
"Yeah, me too."
They both go to the way out together, but before going separate ways Mircea tugs Vasil's sleeve and tells him:
"You know...you are very different."
"Am I? Why?"
"You would tell me something like 'it's too dangerous to walk alone' or 'you should tell your mom before going out somewhere'."
"Wait, your mom doesn't know?" Vasil asks, but before he's able to say something else Mircea is already walking away, waving a lazy goodbye.
Once he's far away, he snarls and to himself he says:
"Why would she want to know?"
