To Lyger 0: That's pretty much Xuppu in a nutshell!
To yellow 14: I mean, he already broke that promise once, within 45 seconds of making it…
To Butterfly: It's definitely to take a breather every so often.
To Kiki: I always love reading reviews, even days after publishing. Nath is a really interesting POV character for this story, given that he fits into two categories of people the Nazis targeted, in addition to being German himself. Marc and Ondine haven't appeared all that much yet in the "Mind Games"-verse, but this is setting them both up to take a little more of an active role moving forward!
Dietrich looked out the bus windows curiously as their bus pulled up in front of the Museum Berggruen and stopped behind another bus. He stifled a yawn, leaning his head on the cool window and idly staring out at the imposing stone edifice of the museum building. After living in Berlin his entire life, it was amazing to think that this was his first time actually visiting this particular museum. His grandfather had enjoyed art, though it had not been an interest of Dietrich's; the only reason he had taken art appreciation this year was to have another class with his friends.
Opa… his mother had found another picture of him recently, standing in front of the large country house which he had been gifted during the War for his "service." That house had used the same architectural style as the museum, even down to the dome on top. Of course, Father had been born long after that house was gone. Opa himself had rarely spoken of it – or, for that matter, of anything to do with the War.
Not that Dietrich could really blame him for wanting to suppress those memories.
Dietrich's seatmate leaned over to look out the window next to him. "Did you know this museum started from the collection of a German Jewish painter who fled the Nazis?" asked Greta. "A German Jew who went to America but returned after the war, only to settle in Paris." She giggled. "Bringing together both Germany and France: they couldn't have picked a better place for us to start this trip, don't you think?"
Dietrich clenched his teeth, his mouth setting in a thin line. No matter where he went, it seemed like he just couldn't get out from under the shadow of the War. But what had he expected, when this was the focus of the trip? "I guess so."
Heinrich scoffed, sliding across the aisle and onto their bench. Greta yelped, her cheeks turning red, when he almost pushed her fully into Dietrich's lap. Heinrich leaned across them to look out the window, pushing the other two even closer together. Dietrich leaned back to avoid being crushed, heat building in his face when Greta's long blonde hair tickled his nose. Heinrich shrugged. "It's a dome; once you've seen one, you've seen them all."
"Aren't you even a little curious about architecture?" asked Greta, arching an eyebrow at him.
"Meh."
She frowned. "But we spent an entire month on it last term!"
Heinrich smirked. "That must have been the month I slept through."
"You say that like it's the only month you slept through," Dietrich shot back.
"What can I say?" Heinrich replied. "That's not the type of art I signed up for."
Dietrich squirmed at being cramped between Heinrich and the side of the bus, with Greta partway onto his leg. "Mind giving a guy some space?" he demanded, giving Heinrich's shoulder a shove.
"Well, sorry." Heinrich rolled his eyes. "We're here to see the sights, right? That side of the bus is boring; all the excitement is on this side. But speaking of sights," he added with a low whistle, "looks like we found the French invasion."
Dietrich glanced across at the people starting to climb out of the bus parked in front of theirs, led by a man with dark red hair and an older woman with streaks of grey in her short black hair. A line of students their age followed them. Following where Heinrich was looking, he found a girl with long brown hair and an olive complexion, standing beside a shorter blonde and a tall boy with darker skin. The blonde looked around excitedly, leaning into the boy; the brunette examined their bus with mild interest, watching as their classmates filed out. A tall blonde stood next to them, looking around at the trees lining the street.
"Ready to make some friends?" Heinrich asked, merging into the flow of traffic as the rest of their class started pouring out of the bus. He wagged his eyebrows, grinning eagerly. "Maybe I'll even 'improve some international relations' along the way!"
"That sounded ominous…" Greta muttered, pursing her lips.
Dietrich gave her a dubious look. "Should we follow him?"
She grimaced. "Someone should keep an eye on him. Otherwise the only 'international relations' getting 'improved' could be with his face!"
Dietrich hummed and waited for her to stand before stepping out himself, bending over to avoid bumping his head on the bus ceiling. Climbing down the steps and out of the confined space, he stretched his arms and followed the rest of the class across to mingle in with the French students crowding the sidewalk in front of the museum and looking up at it with interest. Dietrich hung back beside Greta and their teacher, watching nervously as Heinrich approached the tall blonde girl and introduced himself with a flourish. The girl giggled and elbowed her black-haired friend, whispering something in rapid French.
The French teacher walked over to their teacher and held out her hand. "Frau Hartung," she introduced herself in German. "And you are Herr Traube?"
Their substitute took the offered hand but shook his head. "Hauerfels, actually. Herr Traube wasn't feeling well this morning – thought he must have picked up the flu when he was out in the country last weekend," he explained. "But I am happy to fill in on this trip. German history is a particular fascination of mine, and particularly this specific era of our history."
Frau Hartung nodded in acquiescence. "In that case I suppose it all worked out, then. Herr Kubdel – the gentleman from the Louvre – is checking with Frau Meidner, our guide. He should be back soon enough so we can begin the tour."
"I am very much looking forward to this trip," Herr Hauerfels told her.
"That's good," she replied. "My students seem eager to learn – most of them, at least. A few are a little less interested in the particular subject matter, though I hope the trip will help spark their interest. I realize you're not the regular teacher, but I think a German perspective will prove useful for them in understanding the importance of this history."
"I will do my best," promised Herr Hauerfels, nodding.
Someone bumped into Dietrich, sliding between him and Greta and wrapping her hands around his arm. It was the girl he'd noticed earlier. "It's such a long time since I was in Germany," the girl simpered in English. "And the last time I was here, I was too busy fundraising for Save the Children to really see any of the sights! I'm sure this will be such a wonderful trip, just getting to know all our new friends!"
"I'm sorry, but do I know you?" he asked, blinking in confusion.
"Oh!" the girl yelped. "Where are my manners? My name is Lila – my mother is with the Italian embassy in Paris, so we have been all over the world for her work, met so many fascinating people! But you are…?"
"Um… Dietrich."
"In all my travels, I always find it's best to get the scoop from someone local," she explained, grinning in excitement. "Just playing tourist doesn't give the same experience as finding someone who really knows the city! But you must know all the best places to eat, and all the best parts of the museums."
He frowned. Despite living in Berlin for most of his life, he really hadn't been to these particular museums all that often, apart from school trips. And it wasn't like he'd eaten at every restaurant in the area… "I mean, I guess so…"
"Would you show me around?" she asked, fluttering her eyelashes at him.
He gave Greta a helpless look, and she shrugged, raising a doubtful eyebrow. "I… can?"
"Oh, that's so wonderful of you!" She squeezed his arm tighter, smiling. "This whole trip is so fascinating," she went on. "We've learned so much about World War II already, of course, but I've only ever heard what the 'winners' say about it – not to say that Germany was the loser, of course…" She giggled shrilly. "But I do want to know more – not just what everyone is already saying."
"Well, they say that history is written by the winners," Greta pointed out.
Lila's eyes flashed. "Well, yes," she allowed. "But theirs isn't the only history. And as terrible as Hitler was, he certainly had a way with words…"
"I… suppose he did," Dietrich agreed hesitantly.
"I mean, how could he have convinced so many to go along with something so terrible?" she wondered. "That's what I want to know."
"I think that's what we've been trying to figure out for so long, too," Greta noted.
Lila narrowed her eyes at Greta before turning back to Dietrich. "Do you think you might be able to help me learn more?" she asked, batting her eyelashes at him. "Perhaps even over coffee?"
Dietrich flushed.
"Hey," Heinrich called, making his way through the crowd from where he'd been talking to a short girl with reddish-pink hair. "You don't want this guy showing you around, ma belle," he informed Lila, putting an arm around her shoulders. "My bud doesn't get out much. Me, on the other hand? I'd be happy to show you a good time!"
"Ooh, thank you so much," Lila purred. "Will is going to be so happy to hear that!" Giving him a sultry look, she added, "He told me he'd give me tickets to the world premiere of his next movie, Crusader. Perhaps you could come with me?"
As Heinrich steered the girl away, Dietrich rubbed his arm in confusion. Switching back to German, he muttered, "Thanks for that, bro." With a glance at Greta he asked, "Do you have any idea what just happened?"
Greta narrowed her eyes, watching the girl walk away, holding Heinrich's arm tightly. "Stupid French bitch," she grumbled, folding her arms.
"Italian, actually," one of the French students interjected, a boy with fiery red hair, also in German. "Although you won't hear any arguments from me. You can keep her if you want her."
Dietrich stared at him, blinking in surprise, mildly aware of Greta's flaming red cheeks beside him. "Um… I'm sorry?"
He shrugged. "Lila is one of those people you either love or hate – there really doesn't seem to be much middle ground with her. I'm Nath, by the way," he added, holding out his hand. He jerked his head toward the boy next to him. "This is Marc."
"Dietrich." He shook Nath's hand but cocked his head in surprise. "Your German is very good. School?"
Nath shook his head. "My Opa is German. I learned by listening to him." He grimaced. "I know it could be better."
"Well, the best way to improve it is to use it," Greta observed, recovering quickly. "I hope this trip will help."
Nath gave her a small smile. "It already has, at least a little."
"Hey, are you talking about me?" demanded Marc in English, his mouth curving into a grin.
Nath shook his head and bumped Marc's shoulder. "Just telling our new German friends they can't make fun of us in German," he explained, smirking mischievously.
"I'm sorry about that," Greta apologized, also in English.
Nath snorted. "I said you can't make fun of us in German; as far as I'm concerned, Lila's fair game!"
Marc cocked his head, frowning. "I mean, I'm not her biggest fan," he admitted, "but she's not that bad…"
At that moment two people exited the museum, waving the combined classes over. "Ms. Meidner is ready for us," the man announced in English. "Please follow me!"
Dietrich and Greta found themselves near the middle of the combined classes, alongside Nath, Marc, and the blonde-haired girl they introduces as Aurore. As they walked through the doors, Dietrich raised an eyebrow on seeing the metal detector in front of them – that was an unexpected feature, though Herr Traube had warned them that security at the Berlin State Museums had increased recently. Greta checked inside her purse before placing it on the belt. Dietrich checked his pockets, his fingers closing around the small knife he kept on him all the time. His thumb ran across the handle of the knife moments before stepping through the metal detector, which remained silent. He frowned and looked around the atrium curiously while Greta retrieved her purse and joined him.
The woman from the museum clapped her hands for attention. "On behalf of the Berlin State Museums, welcome! We hope that this will be an enjoyable experience, both for our friends from Paris and for our local students. Now, if you could arrange yourselves into groups of four – two from each school – we will begin the tour!"