Um so this is my first fanfic. Please review, but please try to be nice.

This story isn't based off any historical event, unless I don't know about it, if so please tell me. I really just like the Belarus/Japan pairing. :) Hetalia and charectors belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.

There is some self-harm in the story, so if it triggers anything please don't read.

Anything else I need to add? Have fun reading :D

Bloodstains and Rejections

Trudging through the forest, in the cold and rain, a young woman in a tattered blue dress and tangled, long, blonde hair was on her way home. Watching in the distance was an older man in a clean white suit and carefully combed black hair. As the young woman reached her dark house, she ran upstairs and flung herself on her bed without changing out of her dirty, wet clothing. Grasping her pillow with all the force she could she started to cry. Her tears were ones of someone rejected by the one that she wanted so badly; she knew it was wrong to love her brother like that, but how else was she supposed to love him? He didn't want to protect her like a brother should protect her; by all rights she should hate him. And she did, she really did hate him. Yet she wanted to be with him, never really wanted to leave him in the first place. Starting out with gentle quiet sniffles, she soon started to cry, harder sobs with great noise and violent tears.

As her body was soon spent from crying she reached in and found the small pocket knife hidden in her bedside table. This knife was never to be seen by others, not even her dear sister. Ukraine would try to help, but would end up suffocating her sister with her constant mothering. No, Big Sister couldn't find out about this secret. There was a reason that Belarus always wore long sleeves, high necks and tights. Not really showing much skin was the only way to hide the scars that ran all over her body. Her arms, legs and stomach were covered in the words that represented the feelings she felt. Rejection, hate, pain: all words that filled her lonely and dark world.

After the bloody deed was done, her body scarred and broken more and her bedspread covered with brilliant red stains, she collapsed on her wet pillow and fell asleep.

In the forest the man waited. He kept wanting to go stop her before it was too late, but never had the courage to go in while she was awake. She would tear that knife into him if she knew he knew about this secret. He sadly remembered finding out the secret his beloved Soviet princess held. The poor girl was a young teenager at the time and was, as most awkward teenagers are, rather clumsy. She had tripped chasing her big brother down a flight of stairs at a world meeting, tripped and cried, and that idiot hadn't helped her. So what if she loved him inappropriately? He was her brother. After being shocked by Russia's lack of compassion for a little sister, Japan shyly walked up to her and helped her up. As he helped her out, he realized that the sleeve of her dress had ripped open, exposing scars, both new and old. Not wanting her to catch his stare and hiding his emotions about this cold beauty, he had quickly run away. Since then, he tried to look out for her and was always the one to clean her up when she was passed out cold from exhausting herself from the cutting and the crying.

Sneaking into the house of the blonde, he quietly tiptoed to her room to listen. When he no longer heard her crying out in pain and loneliness, he slowly opened the door to her room and saw that she was angelically curled up. Her face looked the most peaceful when she was sleeping, even when she was covered in blood, cuts and rain. Her mascara had run down her cheeks, streaks of midnight black covering the smooth pale face, but yet all he could think of was an angel sleeping. Slipping into her bathroom, he ran water in a basin with cherry blossom scented soap. Returning to her he slowly and carefully rolled what was left of her sleeves up and started to wash her arms of everything. He wished he could rub all the negative feelings about herself away, but he did what he could. As he finished cleaning these new scars he felt her stir in his arms. He stiffened, waiting for the knife to come out and stab him.

As she slowly began to wake up, she could feel something warm and wet running up and down her arms. She could also smell some sort of floral smell. It was the same smell that penetrated her room every morning after these episodes. Maybe now she could see who it was that knew her secret. She had been so careful not to let people know. As she slowly opened her eyes, she saw big brown shocked eyes looking into her blue ones. She remembered looking into those same eyes a few years ago when he helped her up after she fell. She never had the chance to ask him his name or much less thank him. At the moment, she had been too caught up trying to chase her brother and hadn't thought about it until afterwards. She slowly replayed that moment of remembering someone who didn't act like she was creepy and inhumane. She had soon forgotten that moment in her depression and anger. Replaying it in her head, she realized what he had seen because her sleeve had ripped. As she realized that she was finally face to face with that one person that cared enough to try, she gasped and her eyes watered up again.

As he looked into those cold blue eyes, he started to put her back on her bed to leave, but she held on.

"Please don't leave me again"

He looked startled to hear her voice sound so childish and innocent. From what he had heard from others, it was supposedly harsh and shrewish. He had no clue what to say to that request from one so protective of herself. He said the first thing that came to his mind.

"Are you, um, hungry? I can make you something to eat." He was starting to get embarrassed by the fact he was alone in her room with her. "You should probably eat something." He could see her trying to deny that statement, but at the moment her stomach decided to grumble from not eating in a bit.

"I suppose I should; while you are doing that, I guess I should finish what you were doing." She started to blush from the positions that both were in.

After he left the room and she finished washing herself, she realized she still didn't know his name or why he treated her like she mattered. It was so different from how Brother Russia treated her. The moment she thought of her brother, she collapsed on the floor of the bathroom and started to cry again.

Wondering what was taking the Soviet princess so long, Japan went upstairs and knocked on her bedroom door. He pondered what to do when he heard crying coming from inside. On a brash moment, he decided that he should go in. He didn't want to clean her up another time this night, especially after the embarrassing moment earlier. Upon entering, he saw the bathroom door open and her long blonde hair on the floor. Fearing she was hurt, he ran across the room, scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the bed. Sitting on her bed, he held her as she finished crying and fell asleep again.