Hetalia: A Fandom Anthology [WARNING: YAOI]

2. Starry Night [ RusLith ]

Pretty implied unless you didn't understand. Random Russian and Lithuanian. :3

Theme Song: Love the Way You Lie - Skylar Grey ;_; Saaaaaaaad.

Have fun! :DDD

Link to picture if it doesn't show: http://media.photobucket.com/image/hetalia%20russia%20lithuania/wintermewgirl/Hetalia/265225.jpg?o=6

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Крови. И холодно. И слишком уж очевидной. Сделать это остановить. Стоп. СТОП![Blood. And cold. Both all too clear. Make it stop. Stop. STOP!!]

The snow was knee deep and freezing against the young man's skin. Ivan shuddered as he pulled up his scarf to the bottom of his eyes. Every time he worked border control there was always some unholy weather and just unfair amounts of freezing cold. To add the cruel conditions there was a sharp pain of anger and rage filling his chest.

"Haaa..." he exhaled with a bit of dissatisfaction at the thought of all the chaos of his homeland. "People are so inhumane sometimes. Who attacks a child with a hunting knife, honestly," Ivan shook his head as he rubbed the blood from his hands and face. "Animals."

However, this blood was not his own.

The rugged terrain seemed to bend in shapes and angels so sharply that walking without boots on would cut your feet. Then again it's not like anyone could feel it in that freezing place. You'd feel a warm tingling at best, maybe even a little buzzing sensation at the bottom of your foot. Nothing else.

"Тихая, молчаливая врага. Показать себя, себя со мной. Кровь, как лед и сердца из золота, это то место, которое я называю домом.[Silent, silent enemy. Show yourself, yourself to me. Blood like ice and hearts of gold, this is the place that I call home.]¯" Ivan Braginski swirled over the snow with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, arm clenching the metal spicket he'd ripped up from the back yard just a decade before that night. What else was a nine year old boy to grab when in danger?

Over the ten years of solitude in Svetloria's Psychiatric Imprisonment Wards Ivan had become accustomed to the madness and grotesque tendencies of the men driven mad by war. He himself was indirectly attacked by its bites and bruises. How his elder sister had tried to shield his eyes from the blood spattering and spurting on the walls of their parents. War and overthrowing your nobility can lead to such unnecessary violence.

Oddly enough, even though his two sisters never saw a thing and expected Ivan had seen no more, they were misfits and outcasts. That's what being the son and daughters of Kuregda and Olso Braginski handed them disapproval and shame on their names. So what? It's just a bloodstain and mental instability, right? Right?

Ivan never did get a reply.

The sun seemed to die down against the blinding whiteness of the terrain and engulf Ivan's mind. That whiteness, that blinding heat was a thick coating of simplicity for the young man as he smiled just as his mother had in the last moments of her bloodied death. Madly, a smile placed there; silence, a smile placed there; and laughter, screaming there against his ears.

Ivan had inherited this infectious madness.

"Привет. Меня зовут Торис Laurinaitis, я помощник Светланы. Я полагаю.[Hello there. My name is Toris Laurinaitis, I'm Svetlana's assistant. I suppose.] O šaudyti. Ei, aš pasakyti, kad teisė? Aš ne, aš?[Oh shoot. Hey, did I say that right? I didn't, did I?]," the young boy with bright green eyes and muddy brown hair nodded.

"Ah... N-no, you said it alright. Toris." Ivan nodded. "Toris?"

"Yes?"

"How does it feel to be so alone?"

Toris cocked his head a bit as he shook his firmly. "You're never alone here."

"But there's only Svetlana and she hates children. Rather, she hates there overbearing curiosity," Ivan nodded as he rubbed the back of his head. Was this a patient that had just wandered around the facilities one hour too long or was this actually the boy that he was looking for.

"Svetlana isn't much for children, yes, but... there are other things here. Nicer things than meets the eye," he nodded as he turned off into the thick blackness that consumed the hallway. "Come, I'll show you," he reached through the shadows and wrapped his fingers around Ivan's wrists.

"AH!"

"Just hurry," he whispered into Ivan's ear as the two boys were engulfed by the semisweet darkness.

Eyes adjusting, Ivan began to see the shocking sights that lined the halls of the mental institution. There were bright flourishing plants that seemed to resonate with every battered and gun powder dusted object that once stood as a wall. The institution was falling apart.

The muddy haired boy was flying through the halls as he gripped onto Ivan's wrist rather tightly. How long would this excited joy last? Not long.

Everyone started to die in Ivan's world after a while.

"Ah!" Toris jumped with wide eyes. "B-blood!!"

"Sorry. I forgot to wash in the mud room," Russia bent down and kissed Tori's forehead. "I'll change."

"Hmph.. Stupid boy," he flushed as he rubbed his face. Nineteen and Toris was fretting like a girl.