A/N: Welcome to my first attempt at RoChu! All translations were done with Google Translate. Translations are at the bottom~
Disclaimer: Canada: If TheRavingFangirl owned Hetalia, I'd be in it more often.
Ivan hated the cold. It was always frigid and snowy and lonely where he lived. The sun rarely showed itself from behind the iron-gray clouds, and when it did, it was feeble. But Ivan drank in every ray, loving the slight warmth the sun brought to his skin. His home was in the middle of nowhere. The nearest village was five miles away, a long trek to make through icy winds. Therefore, people came to visit once in a blue moon, if that. It was just Ivan and his sisters, who weren't even that close to him. Life was dreary and bleak.
Ivan was in the village one day to buy food, his nose buried in his scarf against the cold. There was much commotion among the village dwellers. Strange people had come dressed in bright colors. Most of the men's faces were completely hairless, like young boys. A few had small mustaches, which the Russian men with big, bushy beards scoffed and snickered at. These people sold and traded strange things with the villagers in a few stands that they had set up, and Ivan gazed on in wonder. A boy who looked a year or two older than Ivan caught his eye and smiled. Ivan averted his amethyst gaze hastily, but the boy approached him. He had brown hair that was slightly long and in a ponytail, and his eyes were brown with hints of amber.
"Nǐ huì shuō hànyǔ ma, aru?" the boy seemed to be asking a question in a language Ivan did not understand. Ivan shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, showing he did not comprehend.
"Yao," the boy said, pointing to himself.
"Yow?" Ivan repeated. Yao grinned. He gestured to Ivan and tilted his head to the side.
"I-Ivan," Ivan said, pointing to himself as Yao had done. They continued to communicate in this simple manner, pointing to things and saying the words for them in their respective languages. Despite what some people might have thought, it was actually quite fun. Ivan's stomach suddenly growled and he blushed, remembering why he had come to the village in the first place. Yao chuckled and waved his hand in a motion for Ivan to go.
"Spasibo," Ivan said. He waved to Yao and dashed off to the market in the center of the village.
Ivan went back to the village the next day. This time, he had come to see Yao. It was not very often that outsiders came to this part of the country, and Yao seemed like a very nice, friendly boy. Ivan looked for the foreigners dressed brightly. He saw Yao helping them take out more goods from their cart and smiled.
"Yow!" Ivan called. Yao looked around and grinned when he saw the young Russian. Ivan waited patiently for Yao to finish setting up for the day.
"Nǐ hǎo," Yao greeted.
"Privet," Ivan replied, guessing that he had said hello. The two boys once again resumed their simple game. Soon, though, they began to pick up on each other's languages and attempted to form simple sentences. Yao snickered at some things that Ivan said, and Ivan once fell into fits of laughter after Yao repeated a nasty bit of language that he must have heard a drunk man shouting one night. Ivan could not remember the last time he had smiled this much.
Ivan continued to spend as much time at the village as he could manage, spending happy hours with Yao. When they grew tired of their game, they would walk around the village or browse the shops, stands, and carts. Ivan once tried to sneak into a bar when Yao wasn't looking. He had done so a few times before, and the bartender was willing to serve the strongest vodka in all of Russia to a minor. Yao had pulled Ivan out by his ear, grumbling curses under his breath. Ivan felt delighted that Yao never seemed to tire of him.
"Nǐ hǎo," Ivan grinned about a month later, speaking that language of Chy-Nah, Yao's homeland. He had learned a bit, and Yao had done the same with Russian. Ivan had also learned that Yao's first name was Wang. Yao was his last name, but Ivan preferred to call him that. Everyone else did anyway.
"Privet, aru," Yao greeted in Russian. Ivan glanced over the Chinese's shoulder and saw his companions taking down the stands.
"Nǐ jíjiāng líkāi?" Ivan asked.
"Da," Yao confirmed. Ivan's face fell slightly. He would miss the boy. Yao put a hand on his shoulder and smiled. Ivan did the same, and they explored the village for one last time.
They came back a few hours later, and by then the Chinese trading stands were gone. Ivan sighed. Yao held up one finger in a gesture to wait, and Ivan obeyed. Yao went into the cart which he had come in and emerged a few minutes later, with one hand behind his back. Ivan tilted his head to the side in question, and Yao smirked.
"Dlya vas, aru" Yao said, showing Ivan a tall yellow flower. Ivan's eyes widened at its bright, cheery color. He took it from Yao and stroked the stem softly.
"Podsolnechnik," Ivan whispered. The flower did resemble the sun's rays with the way the petals radiated from the center of it.
"Spasibo," Ivan said gratefully. Yao took his hand.
"Péngyǒu," he said, pointing to Ivan and then himself.
"Druzʹya," Ivan murmured, mimicking Yao's action. One of the Chinese men shouted to Yao, gesturing for him to come. Yao hugged Ivan for a brief moment and waved goodbye. Ivan waved back, sad to see his friend leaving.
"Péngyǒu," Ivan whispered, testing the Chinese word on his tongue and absentmindedly twirling the sunflower in his fingers. He gazed at the splash of color in his world of black and white and smiled.
A/N: So, what did you think? Was it terrible? I wouldn't be surprised if it was... XD In case you haven't noticed, I changed my pen name from KawaiiMarshmallow to TheRavingFangirl :3
Translations:
Russian
Spasibo: thank you
Privet: hello
Da: Yes
Dlya vas: for you
Podsolnechnik: sunflower
Druzʹya: friends
Chinese
Nǐ huì shuō hànyǔ ma?: Do you speak Chinese?
Nǐ hǎo: hello
Nǐ jíjiāng líkāi?: You leaving soon?
Péngyǒu: friends