To Russia, with Love
Key
Sentences/ words that are boldand in italics, are direct thoughts.
Random italic words in a sentence are emphasis.
"Italics with speech marks" signify that what is being said within the speech marks is some distance away.
Bold is Onomatopoeia.
"Bold, italic, and speech marks" signify telepathic speech.
A/N- Another fic by me, yay! Warning, as you should be able to tell by the higher rating, this fic is going to have 'description of a sexual nature', though I don't know whether to call it lime, lemon, or even if there are grapefruit and orange and it'll go there, lol. No Yaoi or Lesbian action no matter what it says in my fic. (Don't know the anime word- is it Yuri? My sister thinks it is.)
I don't know if the name of my main OC- you'll know which that is- has been used before. I went to see my cousins on the 27th of December, and we were listing names of countries that have been used for people's names- you know, China, India… there's States too, Georgia, Virginia etc, but they were named after people in the first place. Anyway, on with the story.
Disclaimer- Only my OCs are mine.
Chapter One- Letters
Third Person POV
This was it. It was his eighteenth birthday. That was when he had to complete that which every Hiwatari had to do. It was a thing he had pleaded against with his father when he had found out what he had to do, when he had been ten. He hadn't wanted to do it- who the hell would? It was only something someone totally insane would do. It was just heartless, and cruel. What sort of parents would make their child go through with this? It was something that could never be walked away from; that would never be forgotten. It would always haunt them, leave them with nightmares. It was the stuff from horror films. It was…marriage.
That's right- marriage. He had to find himself a bride. There was no-one he knew and wanted, and he didn't want to go out in the street and marry the first woman he came across. He had three months, and he seriously doubted he would meet someone at school and get the girl to marry him in ninety days.
His grandfather had scoped out the upper class stock when he had been five, there was nothing, and nothing had been born since.
It was only his grandfather that bothered, his parents knew that they needed to marry others than upper class to strengthen the bloodline; if they kept intermarrying in just the upper classes, they would grow weak. Kai's mother herself had been upper-middle class, her family millionaires, and popular in society. The only thing they didn't have that would have made them upper class was money in the family for generations, as well as well-known blood and a title.
There was only one option Kai had left- mail-order brides.
He had seen a programme on TV about it, and knew it was all he had left. Usually someone would put in an ad and get a reply. When they found someone suitable, she left for his home and they got married. It was a perfect solution.
Earlier that week he had written his ad, and had sent it to a Russian mail-order bride magazine publisher. He had received a copy of that magazine in this morning's post. He flipped past the first couple of pages filled with success stories, and turned to the ads. All of these ads were from males. That was how it worked, the men advertised, and the women replied.
Kai scanned the pages, his eyes finally resting on his ad. He read it, proudly, certain that he had got all the info in it that he needed:
Name: Kai Hiwatari
Place of Residence: Japan
Born: Russia, 1988
Rich, handsome 18 year old male seeking beautiful rich mate. Must be well-dressed and able to write own name. Ability to speak English or Japanese is also required. Must be good in bed.
Short, but snappy, that's the way to do it.
The next day, he received some letters in the post. He hadn't expected it to be this fast- overseas took longer, didn't it? Even with airmail. He looked at the magazine, and noticed that it had actually been printed in Russia two days earlier.
Shrugging, he ripped open the first letter, his eyes popping out of his head at the A4 sized picture that he pulled out first. Woah, those have got to be the biggest bazongas in the world! Eagerly, Kai opened the letter and started to read.
Name: Alonso Molari
Place of Residence: Brazil
Born: 1962
Wait- wouldn't that make her...? Kai did a quick calculation in his head… almost forty-four! Gross. Hang on a minute, Kai quickly glanced at the name. Alonso? Horrified, Kai took another look at the photo. Now he could see the person's age, not to mention the broad shoulders, the strong jaw… and the chest hair. Was that a bulge under the panties? Kai was promptly sick in the kitchen sink he had been standing next to, having got a knife from the drainer to rip open the letter.
Going to the front room to chuck that letter in the fire, he settled down on the sofa to read the other letters. They were just as bad, and worse, there were four more males, eight more 'oldies' as he put it, and about twenty who just weren't right.
Kai immediately went and changed his ad to: Rich, handsome 18 year old male seeking beautiful rich mature woman in between the ages of 18 and 22. Must have been born female- just female- and stayed that way. Must be no taller than 5'8", have a nice figure with slim hips and at least a C-cup on top. A flat stomach would be appreciated and blonde with blue eyes perfect. Must be well-dressed and able to write own name. Ability to speak English or Japanese is also required. Must be good in bed.
A week passed, and though there had been many with Kai's physical wants, only a few fit the rest of what he was looking for. He decided that, after narrowing down to five hopefuls, he would invite the women/girls- whatever to his mansion so he could get to know them, and pick.
Another week later and he was at the airport with a limousine to pick them up. He waited as the plane landed, and for them to go through everything and collect their baggage. Holding a sign up with the girls' names in Russian on, he watched as four beautiful blondes came up to him, men walking past giving him jealous glances. As far as he could tell, they were perfect. He nodded at them and waited for the last. She walked forward slowly, and Kai noticed she was wearing three-inch platforms. Silly girl, she obviously didn't know how to walk in them. He would make her take them off, wearing those shoes she had to be at least six foot one, taller than he had requested, though he was still a couple of inches taller. Otherwise she would do.
Kai waited until she had joined the rest and looked at each in turn. "My name, as you know, is Kai Hiwatari. Please tell me your names to refresh my mind," he said in Russian. If truth be told, he couldn't really remember which name went with which picture, they looked too alike.
"I'm Jana Dimitova." Said a blonde with a mole at the corner of her mouth that hadn't been there on the photo and was already bugging Kai.
"Polska Guschev." This was from a woman who looked to be in her early twenties and had lashes caked in mascara. She was wearing an elegant, but short dress. Jana was wearing a skirt and push-up bra under a blouse.
"Olga Vladivitch." This blonde was wearing skin-tight jeans and an equally tight sweater.
"Maria Daradova." She was wearing a top with sleeves that only reached her elbows and a plunging neckline. She also had knee length jeans cut-offs on. Clearly these four had made an attempt to look sexy, but not too much before they had gotten to know what he was like. Sly.
Kai's POV
I turned my attention onto the fifth girl, noticing she looked the youngest out of them. She also looked somewhat scared. I studied her clothing for a while; her black platform boots went slightly over her knees, making it hard for her to bend them. She was wearing the shortest, tightest skirt I had ever seen, and a boob (A/N-I spelt that bube before I noticed and changed it!) tube, clearly with no bra underneath.
"And your name?" She looked terrified to be addressed by me, and wouldn't meet my gaze.
"R…Russia Karinova, sir." She mumbled. Russia. What a weird name, especially for a Russian, couldn't her parents think of any other name? Hang on, I frowned.
"I don't remember a Russia in any of the letters."
"I don't usually go by Russia; I used Ria, my nickname."
I nodded. "I like Russia," I said without thinking. She lifted her head and her eyes met mine, startled. She hesitated, and then gave a little nod.
Gesturing them to follow, (and not bothering to take their bags), I led them to the limo, getting in once I had put their bags in the boot. For once I had hired a driver, wanting to see how the women acted around me.
Everyone but Russia seemed confident; they put all their efforts into flirting, and giggling while sipping champagne. Russia noticed me glancing at her, and immediately started pouting and winking suggestively. I grinned to myself. Having eager women around will be fun.
Russia's POV
Oh god, he's looking at me again. Papa told me I had to flirt, right? I take a deep breath before connecting my gaze to his and pouting, my lashes fluttering as much as any Southern Belle's.
When he had looked away to study Jana's breasts, I nervously glanced down at my own before attempting to pull my skirt down.
My father's voice came back to me. "We have to make you pretty," he had said. "This man wants a beautiful wife who can pleasure him. I had cringed a bit at that. I had no experience whatsoever in that area. My father had hoped that dressing like this and acting the part would stop Kai from noticing. "Too bad," he had said, "that there isn't enough time to prostitute you, then you'd gain some experience." I had been horrified, not only was he shipping me off to Japan to some man I didn't know, just so he could get his hands on some money, but he had thought of pimping me out? I couldn't understand how he could be that way.
I shook my head and came back to reality. Glancing up, I saw he was looking at me again, with those wonderful crimson eyes. He must have gotten bored of the others. I could tell at the airport that Jana's mole had bothered him, and he had practically shuddered at Polska's voice. Maybe he didn't like Olga's piercing that could be seen under her top, and Maria did have an annoying tendency to giggle a lot.
Just then, Maria giggled. "Kai, baby, don't you want to get to know us better? Know our secrets, our- fantasies," she said breathlessly in his ear, her lips touching it.
"We would even play out your fantasies, what are they, Kai? Are they like every man's, with two or more women together? Because we could all do that, couldn't we, Russia?"
I glanced at Maria, who was studying me, shocked. No, I couldn't do that, absolutely not.
I looked back at Kai, hoping he'd tell her he didn't have that fantasy, or that he found me disgusting. Instead, he just 'hn-ed', but I could tell he was interested. Very interested, judging by a certain part of his body that I glanced at for some reason.
"We're here." He announced, curtly.
Waiting, I let the other women get off before I stood up having to bend over to get out of the door.
I froze when I heard a groan behind me. "Geez," a voice said from behind me. I had forgotten Kai was still in the car.
"You're not wearing any underwear."
By now I was totally solid- I had forgotten about that fact, too. The skirt managed to hide everything when I stood, but I had forgotten about bending over.
I gasped as he touched me there, murmuring something. He stopped when Polska called his name. Quickly, knowing that he was still staring at me, I got down out of the car. Hopefully my face wasn't so red that the other girls would notice. They might act friendly, but each knew that Kai was only going to marry one of us- we were all competing, and if they thought that I had gotten anywhere, they weren't going to act nice anymore.
A/N- I know, bad place to stop, but it's pretty late, and my sister's been bugging me to read this. Anyway, hope you liked it!
