It seems miracles can happen [America]

Leave it to the American to always make an entrance. He often wondered if Alfred knew the volume of his own voice, or did so on purpose to instigate an instant headache to whoever might be listening. The small room with thick walls only made his voice louder as he practically announced himself as he entered.

His lip tilted partially into a smirk. Admittedly, it had been a long time since they had seen one another, almost a year. Chess players did not often meet on the board themselves, they allowed their pawns to play out their game with each passing step. He knew Alfred to be the consistent figure in the shadows, pulling the strings on the battlefields he fought in, and in response Ivan moved his own. If puppeteers fought, he expected it to play out similar though more humorous. As always, Alfred had not changed. He appeared vibrant, young, and completely immune to the war at hand. He would have to change that eventually.

“They send the child instead of an adult to speak with me?” he commented, appearing a tad disappointed, if only to annoy him. He shifted in the chair partially to adjust his posture. He had been sitting here for many hours, and it had become tiring. “I do think this is a rather excessive,” he noted and lifted his one arm with the chain. "I would say you are terrified of me, Alfred," he smirked. His violet eyes meeting his blue ones.

Alfred walked in with an air of confidence, bright smile, and a sense of superiority, reminding him of a Hollywood star walking down one of those red carpets. He disliked how Alfred could enter any situation like he belonged there, without doubt or insecurities. The boy got whatever he wished for when he wished for it, and like most spoiled children, he thought he was entitled to it. Ivan supposed if he lived a similar life, he’d act similar. What’s the word? Cocky. Yes. Alfred was a cocky.

Alfred might not admit his own fears, but Ivan recognized his own.

He feared America. The boy might be an arrogant brat taking any rash actions with little thought, but he was still the most powerful nation in the world: militarily, economically, technological advance, and rich with natural resources. If it truly came to direct war between the two of them, Ivan could not be confident in a secure win without the entire world collapsing underneath them both. It terrified him to know another nation held so much power, and in that fear, he forced himself to gain his own power, his own strength. He remembered when the first bomb dropped on Japan at the end of World War II. The attack had been on Japan, but the message had been to him. It was a clear message that left Ivan in a panic attack in his office, gripping his bookshelf tightly to keep himself up and not faint from the horror of seeing such action potentially happen to him. He knew his fears, and he would take actions to prevent his fears from happening. Alfred would be a fool not to fear him.

Then again, Ivan had only been teasing in his remarks.

Ivan expected the comment regarding Italy. It was embarrassing, but Ivan held his smile. “Who can say no to Italy’s homemade pasta?” he responded with an innocent shrug because truly that was what occurred.

He saw him pull an item out, and naturally assumed it to be a knife or weapon. He knew of his own interrogations and suspected it to be similar. His brow arched when it was revealed to be chess. He chuckled at the sight, “I did not realize you wanted to lose to me so quickly.” Alfred held strategic ability and won in 1972, but chess was still a Russian talent not an American. “I had heard horror stories of your interrogation process, America, so far this is similar to a vacation in Russia,” he remarked, while he waited for him to set up the board.

Ivan smiled partially at the remark. He did not think he would have to wait long to come across delicious food again. Even if he found himself in an unfortunate position, he did not expect it to last longer than a week. Any longer, governments become suspicious and demanding. Fear starts to take on a mind of its own and guides mans’ actions to actions they would not reasonably take. If they hoped to calm his government, they would have to release him. Even if they decide not to, he suspected his sister or another might seek his rescue, and even if she found herself too busy, Ivan felt certain he could find his own escape if given enough time. He would let Alfred brag and taunt, but Ivan knew who truly had control.

Instead of responding to the previous remark, he answered the question and adjusted himself the best he could in the chair. “It does not matter what we play, I will still win. You have never had the patience for strategic games,” he commented, though he knew it to be a stretch of the truth.

He took in his expression and caught the danger behind it. Moments such as these showed Alfred’s true super power status in the world. He often came off flamboyant and idiotic, but in truth the boy held an enormous strength few could compare to. His violet eyes met his blue ones, and a tilt of his lips played on his features. “I am curious if they are as successful as my own,” he answered. Ivan could not die here, Alfred could only give him pain, but pain was something Ivan experienced on a daily basis, he doubted it would have any impact on him.

He watched as he set up the board. “Will I be given more movement with my arms?” he asked, as he lifted his arms as far as the chains would allow, which was not far.

Ivan almost looked humored by his response. He had known Alfred since he was a little boy being paraded by England at one of the annual European Balls. His energy had always been unfathomable. Still to this day, he reminded Ivan of a bright burning blue giant star, consuming and demanding everything in his path, growing more beautiful each day until it eventually expands into the supergiant and collapses upon itself into a depth of a black hole. Energy such as Alfred could never be settled, but even Ivan could recognize Alfred’s attempts to contain it with patience. “I’m honored,” he answered simply.

Ivan watched Alfred moved and heard the sounds from behind the doors as the chains came undone. He rubbed his wrist when he was freed and rolled his shoulders. “Spaciba,” he answered. His eyes finally landed on the chessboard. He took in the position of each piece before moving his first one. Admittedly, Alfred understood this game as well as he did. They had been playing it for decades, whether on this board or on the board of the world. He met Alfred’s eyes again and smiled at him, almost kindly. “You have lost weight. Congratulations, Alfred. I know it is difficult for you,” he commented.