Sano "Muikku" [Sweden/Finland]

[Suomi]

“Hei, Berwald! Hyvää syntymäpäivää! Listen, I’m taking you to Turku tomorrow morning. Meet me in Helsinki around seven. Ah, don’t worry about bringing anything and dress for walking a lot. Okay? Moikka!”

At least that’s what Tino had told him in the somewhat cryptic message he left after the beep. Maybe it wasn’t a complete truth, but it wasn’t exactly a lie, either. The Finn would never – could never – lie to the Swede, but he could summon the art of half-truths to keep his birthday present a secret. Surely there was nothing wrong with that. Still, there was a reason Tino had insisted on driving once Berwald arrived at his house the morning of June 7th, even against Berwald’s advice that it would be faster and more economical to walk to Turku. After only slight hesitation, Tino managed to coax the man into his car (a somewhat funny sight, Tino thought, as the huge man folded into his tiny, three-door Toyota Auris) and they left, heading west on E18.

The smaller man occupied himself throughout the drive by casually chatting with the other, by mouthing the words on the radio, and sometimes by talking to no one in particular. He avoided direct eye contact and fidgeted with the radio’s volume and the air vents frequently. Something about the small space of the car and the concentration of the Swede’s domineering aura was making him more on edge than usual. It was an unwarranted feeling he had never been able to shake, even after all their years of union.

“It’s Berwald,” he silently assured himself. “It’s just Berwald.”
Two hours more and signs for the Turku exits began to appear. One-by-one, Tino passed them all, eyes set on the road as if he knew exactly where he was going. A small grin, borne from excitement, pricked at the corners of his mouth and he gave a sideways glance to his passenger.

"Not too much longer, now!"

[Sverige]

The day before, Berwald was mildly surprised by the message on his machine. The fact that Tino had called wasn't surprising in itself; indeed, aside from the occasional call from Denmark (who, for some reason, kept asking if his refrigerator was running even though the Swede had never had refrigerator issues), nearly every other call was from the Finn. No, the surprising part was the Finn telling Berwald to meet at his house, as typically, when meeting for anything, they would meet at the Swede's.

Not that he had any issue with meeting at the Finn's, mind. It was rather quiet and beautiful over there, and he was actually somewhat disappointed in himself for never having the chance to visit more often. And so, he turned up on Tino's doorstep on the assigned morning, punctual as ever. Given the timing of the call, he just knew today's trip had something to do with his birthday, but didn't know what, exactly, was coming.

In contrast to Tino's constant chatter during the drive, aside from his initial objections Berwald remained entirely silent. He silently gazed out the passenger window at the passing scenery and simply listened to his driver carry on about whatever topic happened to pop into his mind at any given time, occasionally looking over, sometimes with a nod or a yes to "answer" any odd question sent his way. The Swede didn't mind the one-sided conversation; they had been like this for centuries, the Finn expressing whatever came to mind and the Swede receptively listening. That was always one of the things he loved the most about their relationship.

"I do miss having that in the house..."

Berwald immediately perished the thought as they came to the first sign for Åbo. As suggested in the message, he had dressed for a day of walking in his normal casual wear. Expecting some kind of hiking day, possibly by the river or shore, he also wore some comfortable all-weather hiking boots. However, he began to doubt his choice, and then Tino's driving directions, when they passed the second and third signs for the city, passed it altogether. He had said Åbo, right? Did the Finn space out, while conversing and driving?

Brow ever-so questioningly furrowed, he turned to look at his driver, his mouth open slightly to tell him they just passed-

"Not much longer, now!"

Berwald paused for a second, then closed his mouth and nodded an "Mm." "As long as you know where you're going."

[Suomi]

“Good,” Tino thought with a slight nod. “He doesn’t seem to be suspicious.” Although, really, with Berwald’s limited range of facial expressions, who could know? He could be the one planning something covert, for all the Finn knew. Heck, he could be plotting a sadistic and complete annihilation of the earth and Tino wouldn’t recognize it through that icy exterior. He wondered how the Swede, if he did decide to, would do it- Nuclear weapons? Bioterrorism? Naval attack? And who would he attack first? Maybe it would be Russia; he has it coming, after all. Though North Korea was acting a bit out of line lately, too, so maybe--

“Wandering imagination,” the Finn silently scolded, rolling his eyes at the absurdity of his own mind as he passed a sign indicating that they would soon be entering Naantali. This brought him back to attention and returned to him that sense of excitement he had been feeling all morning. He deftly merged to exit the main road, entering the historic part of this southern port town. The auto traffic decreased some here as older brick apartments, hotels, and factories sprung up along the roadside, but the dense foot traffic stood to prove that this city was very much thriving. In a way, the Finn always felt a certain sense of pride when in this part of his country. Tourism was alive and well in his islanded southwest, especially this time of year, and he always found it interesting how many people from faraway places would stop by for a visit.

After a few more turns and a few more passes through roundabouts, Tino pulled the car into a public parking lot.

“Alright, Berwald, here we are!” he chirped happily as he cut the engine. Gratefully, he opened the door and hopped out onto the asphalt, giving his legs and spine a much needed stretch. He retrieved a grey backpack from his backseat, slinging it over one shoulder and waiting for Berwald to join him.