Chapter Text
America was hanging out at Russia's place after a World Meeting. They were chill friends at this point and had taken up playing video games with each other. Russia didn't think that this was going to be a great idea, considering that he wasn't very versed in playing such things. However, when he figured out that America had a hand at playing Tetris, he was ecstatic.
"Dude, how did you do that?!" America whooped in laughter as he watched Russia tumble in another T-Spin, earning him extra points. They were playing a simple competitive Tetris match. America wasn't fairing as well as Russia was, but he was pretty decent at the game.
"Practice, Fredka," he chuckled.
"Yo, you gotta properly teach me how to do that," the American prompts as their match ends, Russia winning, obviously, "Dude, I'm only good at combos and those obviously aren't getting me anywhere with you!"
Russia simply smiled at him. Correction, America was decent against him. Had he been playing against anyone else, he'd probably destroy them with flying colors. The American just didn't know how much better he's gotten at the game with the training that the Russian was giving him. Although, it was the T-Spin that seemed to be America's weak link. He wasn't very good at waiting and timing T-Blocks to spin them into slots. Making the slot itself, he's fine. Dropping blocks in the right place, he can do. Combo-ing like crazy, totally okay at. But waiting without solidifying a T-Block's placement for a T-Spin? America was just too impatient.
"Very well," Russia grins, starting up an easy round, "I will teach you how to T-Spin."
"Heck, yes!" America pumps a fist in the air, readying his controller.
The blocks start descending slowly down the board. America already knew how to make a T-Spin slot, with his quick-thinking brain and dextrous fingers. Now, all he had to do was carefully maneuver a T-Block down and quickly rotate it into the slot for a T-Spin. Before America had gotten a T-Block, Russia tapped his shoulder, directing him to the Russian's side of the board.
"Alright, Fredka, do you see this?" Russia flips the T-Block a couple of times so that way when he rotates it at the last second, it would fall into his slot. Just as the block touches the surface of his stack, Russia quickly rotates it into his slot, knocking away two lines, the announcement of his move onscreen, "That's a T-Spin."
"Ah," America said distractedly. He saw what Russia did and all he needed to do was reenact it. He stacked a couple of blocks as he'd do for a normal combo and saw that a T-Block was coming up. Instead of insta-dropping it down, he waited for the T-Block to inch down the board and reach, and...
"Look! Russia, look, I did it!" America screamed, overjoyed about one little move.
Russia laughed at the younger nation's childish antics, finding his happiness to be endearing. The two worked on America's T-Spin and did a couple more competitive games against each other the other had to return back to his home.
~~~~~
*knock, knock*
"Hey, Russia! I'm ready to rumble, man!" America called out, ready to play another couple of rounds of Tetris with his newly found friend. He came dressed in a more casual style of clothing, instead of the formal uniform he had at the meeting, but kept his bomber jacket.
However, after calling out and trying to call and text the older nation and getting no response, America started feeling concern about Russia's whereabouts. After calling and texting Ukraine and Belarus, and heck, even his Baltics and other Slavic nations, hearing that they haven't seen him, America decided to take matters into his own hands and see what's up. Turning the surprisingly unlocked door handle, he pushed the door open and walked inside Russia's house. He's done this a couple of times before but never had he ever felt like he was intruding like how he felt now.
"Russia?" America called out to the eerily empty house. There was still no response. America walked up to Russia's room and nudged the door open. There, sitting in his room, was a newly set up TV and game console, displaying a Tetris home screen. There were a couple of consoles there, actually, but he noticed the new one right away. However, the game displayed on the screen didn't look like the normal Tetris that he and Russia usually played. No, this one was retro and had weird neon-esque colors.
America didn't remember much about the history of Tetris, but he swears that this might be the first version of Tetris to ever come out. It just didn't make any sense that it was on the big screen and not on...a Gameboy, or something. The game set up didn't even entirely fit in the screen; it seemed more fitting for an older PC. Something like an IBM, if they even had those in Russia back in the day.
The younger nation noted the retro-style keyboard (definitely for an IBM, he thought) and abandoned controller. He slowly sat down in front of the screen, setting his fingers down on the keyboard's controls. He has practiced on both PC and consoles, so he knew his way around these types of controls. The style was a bit outdated, but he was sure Russia wouldn't mind him practicing on this older version before they got started.
...It's been a couple of hours and America had finally managed to get past Level 30 in the original Tetris. He didn't even really come to think that Tetris even really had levels, but apparently they did. America had to admit when those blocks started raining like crazy, he did panic a great deal but managed to pull it off after a couple of attempts. Just as he was about to set the game screen back to home, the pixels started...freaking out and scattering across in a crash.
"Aw, no," America groaned, trying to tack something on the keyboard to get out of the game, "Man, Russia's probably gonna kill me for this," he muttered as the game started frizzing out.
Or at least that's what he thought it was doing. Suddenly the screen started lighting up in an impossible white, frying America's retinas for a split second before swallowing him whole. He felt his body being sucked in by a strong, unseeable force, pulling him into the TV screen. The American was thrown and tossed into this swirl of color and light, blocks and pixels flashing by his eyes and reflecting off of his glasses. He desperately tried to control his fall, flight, pull, whatever was happening to him, whilst screaming in confusion and fear. America resorted to curling up into a ball as he was shot through this vortex.