I told my boyfriend that I was not going to write fanfics anymore, but this oneshot kept replaying in my head every time I heard the song "The Preyingmantis" by Porcelain and the Tramps. THIS IS NOT A SONG FIC HOWEVER. This is just my interpretation of the song… through Hetalia fanfiction. You should listen to the song though; it is one of my favorites. But then again, anything that reminds me of Russia/America or Prussia/Austria is going to make me squeal.

Title: The Preyingmantis

Pairings: Russia/America, England/America, and friendship Russia/Lithuania and Lithuania/Belarus

Warning: I do not have a beta and I cannot always find the errors of my grammar and spelling (so please inform me in the reviews if you found some that bothered you). Also... this is pretty depressing, unless Russia is not your favorite character. Then you might think he deserves this. If you do, you and I are definitely not what someone would call "friends." ;_; Russia is a big sweetie in my eyes.


"I can't do this anymore Ivan. I'm sorry." He said. Russia looked up from his book and into the oceanic eyes of his American lover.

"Cannot do what Alfred? I am confused by your choice of words."

"Our relationship... I don't think it's working for me big guy. I think we can still be friends, but I just don't feel anything more than that anymore." While Russia did like America's honesty and bluntness, he really did not care for it when it comes to this issue.

"You do not love me anymore than friends... and how did you love me before?" Ivan asked holding back his anger and shock as much as he could.

"I don't know, it just felt special before. Now in the last few months it has been kind of, well, dull and uneventful." Ah, the American was simply bored. They had been living rather sluggish lately. Ivan did feel a little guilty about not taking his lover on more outings than they used to, but the two of them appeared comfortable at home.

"If you need some entertainment, we could easily go to the theater or a party. There is no need for such drastic measures." Ivan calmly said before going back to reading.

"No Ivan! You're not hearing this right." Alfred moaned. He rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"You know that I don't care about going out. I'm happy playing video games, watching movies at home, and all the things we can do around the house. I meant that I don't feel that special feeling for you that I've always had. The feeling that made me know that I love you is gone... and I don't think it will ever come back." Now that the situation was much clearer, Russia's world seemed to shatter like glass. This was the end? Did it really happen so soon?

"I see..." Russia blurted out, unable to think of anything more eloquent.

"Please don't take this hard. We can be friends! I promise." America said with a hug. Russia wanted nothing more to snake his arms around America's torso and never let him go, but he knew it was futile. This was Alfred's choice, and he had to accept it.

"I'm going to have a gathering at my place two weeks from now. Please come Ivan, I mean it. I want you there. You will always be my friend." Alfred quickly kissed the Russian on the cheek before briskly walking out of the room. Ivan followed him immediately, deep inside not wanting the parting to happen.

When he peered into the room where America kept his things, he noticed that all of the game consoles were packed into their boxes and America had a large suitcase that was full of the clothes Alfred would leave at his house. The little nicknacks of Mario, Zelda, and Uncle Sam were no longer on the shelves, leaving only a circular area where dust could not penetrate. It was happening too fast. When was Alfred feeling this way? Why could America not tell Ivan the things he was feeling? If he had, Russia might have been able to find a way to mend this, fix it, change the course that was unfolding in front of him!

"Are you leaving so soon?" Ivan said just above a whisper. It was as if a small child had spoken.

"Yes, I think it's better if I leave immediately." Alfred with his strong built was able to grab all of his things and stroll calmly down the stairs (with a frightened Ivan trailing after him).

"Would you like some coffee before you go? I can quickly brew you some! How about some blinis? You are certainly fond of them with jam-"

"Ivan... I'm sorry. But I need to go-"

"I just have one more question Alfred! ... can I still call you by your nickname, Sunflower?" Ivan was amazed that he could hold back tears.

"Yeah, I have no opposition to it. Friends give each other nicknames all the time." Alfred smiled. It was a smile for him that would soon be for someone else.

All the events seemed to blur in Russia's reality because the next time he focused on what was happening, he was still standing on the stairs several hours after the American left.

"Big brother... America... would you like to eat dinner?" Belarus called from the kitchen. She knew about her brother's relationship with America, and though she was greatly bothered by it (she never felt that Alfred was good enough for her brother) she knew it made Ivan happy to be with him.

The young woman had even grown accustomed to making the two of them meals since she learned of the American's lack of domestic house skills. There was nothing that she would do to make Ivan feel joy, and if it meant making sure that his time with the American was peaceful than she would cause no disturbance. Also... in very minor ways... the American was not as bad as she thought he was. Natalya would see him fixing old tractors that were laying in the garage rusting, making them work again after only hours on them. He would help her clean the dishes and they would bond over the sweet things that Russia was capable of that no one knew. Yes, in her own way she did like him (but she would never admit it).

Belarus stepped out to see her brother descending down the steps of the main staircase.

"Good that you came down first big brother. America is rather annoying when it comes to food."

"Alfred will not be joining us Natalya." Ivan sighed. Belarus raised her eyebrows in disbelief. The American never refused food, even when he was almost sickening full. The golden haired man had once said that it was American to "eat until you're sick."

"We must mark the calenders to this rare event. He is actually skipping a meal?" Ivan shook his head.

"No... America is no longer going to be with us. He left Belarus. America... Alfred... he left me..." Belarus forgot all about the food and came to her brother's side. Russia held her away, but soon he no longer could because he needed both hands to wipe away his tears.

"You will get through this big brother. I know you will." Belarus whispered while she comforted him. "That pig is not everything. You will remember what life was like without him. I promise."

And she was right.

Ivan was remembering how dreadful his life was before Alfred came to it.

Russia was sitting in a park near his estate, staring at the cloudy sky. The sun never showed itself anymore, at least it felt that way. There were no people on the grounds during this time, it was too cold. Ivan could see in his peripheral vision that even the colorful playground that children loved was vacant. The winter in his country was much too harsh for that, especially now. The temperatures were so low that a high of zero was cheered by the news reporters. Some people would laugh thinking it was a joke, but Ivan never joked about Winter.

After all, it would talk to him sometimes. But not today.

"Perhaps I should have gone to Sunflower's party." Ivan thought to himself. It had been two long months since America had left. The gathering that the other wished for Russia to attend was long gone, but Russia still thought about his decision on not going. If he had went, his heart would pop out of his chest at the sight of Alfred.

Alfred and his warmth, all the things that used to be his were now gone. America's hair, although appeared course and tangled, was actually luxurious to the touch. He remembered how surprised he was when he felt Alfred's hair for the first time.

It was during one of their liaisons during the Cold War. He did not bother putting on gloves today, for even though it was an America winter, it felt almost like summer to him. But he had forgotten the true purpose of the gloves. It was to separate his hands from America. It was to make sure he did not taint his hands with the America and all the things he stood for. Today, all the Russian cared about was driving and reaching his destination.

While most of the times Russia drove, he had the radio on, he detested America's music. It made him uncomfortable. It made him feel old. Ivan soon reached the estate, brushing off some lint on his signature jacket before going outside. He knocked at the door of America's house, which he delightfully noted was smaller than his. He could hear the patter of heavy footsteps scurrying down the stairs and he smiled. Russia loved the thought of the American-slut (he did not think well of Alfred until much later in the relationship) scampering around and desperately wanting to see him.

The American opened the door with a frown on his face that the Russian knew was not serious. If the other truly despised his company, they would not be here. They would not have passionate sex in various rooms in both of their houses. They would not do it in public, their respected offices, and they would certainly not do it in empty corridors in the middle of world meetings if they truly hated each other as much as they wanted the world to believe. This was an ancient, cat-and-mouse styled game that they loved to play. There was no one else they could play it with. The other nations were too soft, damaged, and lacked the stamina for the two countries' game.

"You're promptly on time for our meeting Russia, as is always expected of you Commie."

"And you scurry around like a backyard creature with no coordination. As is expected of you, naive, young nation."

As soon as America closed the door behind him, Russia pounced. He slammed the sunny, blonde haired teen against the wall and used his extra height to his advantage to look down at Alfred.

"Do you think you can survive a meeting with me?" He said in a hushed voice. America smirked.

"I know I can. It's in my name, Amer-I-can." The younger nation thought he cleverly said. Russia rolled his eyes. In order to silence the American idiot, he swooped down and planted his lips against the other's chapped ones. The roughness of his lips still did not hide the smooth, youthfulness the other possessed. Russia violently thrust his hand into America's hair, and his eyes almost exploded with shock. The strands were silky in texture. His hands fumbled their way to the cowlick that could never be tamed and yanked it. Alfred groaned into their kiss and snaked his arms tighter around Ivan. Russia gave it another experimental tug and it caused the same effect. It grinned against America's lips. This was an undiscovered erogenous zone.

Russia blushed at the old memory.

"Big brother, it is too cold outside. Please come home." He turned to his right to see it was dear sister Belarus.

"Yes, of course. Forgive me for worrying you."

"I will always worry about you." She mumbled.

Russia rarely left his house for the park after that. It was not until several months later when Estonia offered to take him out to dinner that he actually left his home.

Estonia was in the restaurant Sontes because he wished to treat Russia to dinner, for it was the larger nation's birthday. Actually, the computer-loving country really would rather not accompany Russia on his birthday, but it was a favor for Lithuania, who expressed great concern for their former dictator. While Estonia did not understand the other's compassion, he would do any favor for Lithuania.

It was surprising to be in Russia's company without having to address him formally as "sir" or "Mr. Russia." The shorter blonde thought it was also a little odd that the taller man was so quiet, but Ivan Braginsky was never one to have lengthy conversations. When Russia spoke, there was certainty and no words were flowery or out of place. It was probably under the influences of his bosses that the tall nation spoke in such a concise manner.

"Remember to be polite to Mr. Russia." Lithuania's words were rumbling through Edward's body like an earthquake. Estonia knew he should be more open and trust that the elder nation would not harm him if he out spoke, but these behaviors that he developed around Russia were so ingrained in his being that his brain was screaming at him to dash away. Edward took a deep breath and took in his surroundings.

He supposed he could introduce some casual conversation about the restaurant. There were many surrealistic styled paintings on the charcoal shaded walls that might interest the largest nation in the world. Russia held many Salvador Dali paintings in St. Petersburg, so Estonia assumed that Russia must have some appreciation for the art pieces. The tables were made of heavy oak, and yet the person who crafted the table took the time to add a border at the edge. It was an elaborate, ornate pattern that had flowers, geometric shapes, and swirls all incorporated in. This was another form of art that Edward knew Russia would adore. Things that were constructed by human hands were always something that caught the former communist nation's attention. Edward calculated whether he could stretch the casual talk to the candles, but decided that it probably would not interest Russia enough to risk bringing it up. Just as the technology-loving nation was about to bring up the paintings, Russia spoke.

"They seem thoroughly happy, do they not?" Ivan whispered in a slightly cracked voice. Edward followed where Russia's finger was pointing to see both the United States and the United Kingdom sitting at their own table about twenty feet away. Estonia was shocked to see that England had his fingers intertwined with America's, but then realized why his brunette friend Lithuania was so concerned. It had only been six months ago since Russia's relationship with America ended. While both nations did not admit to having a romantic relationship until 1993, everyone knew they had been having secret liaisons during the Cold War.

"Edward, did you not hear me? I had asked you if you thought they were happy?" Estonia blushed. He had forgotten the question when he spotted the two other nations.

"Forgive me Russia, I must have gotten lost in my own thoughts. You asked if they were happy?" Ivan nodded before taking a sip of water.

"I think… happiness lies on the beholder. We might see that they look happy, but what if England was not feeling happy because America lacked table manners he was accustomed to? We cannot judge those things from the distance we are observing from. In short, happiness is an illusion that humans have made up in order to portray what they think is acceptable and fun behavior." Edward responded nervously. He did not want to upset the older man by saying how he really felt (both nations seemed comfortable around each other at that moment), but he did not want to obviously lie to Russia in fear of accusation and retaliation.

"Oh Estonia, you are still the same. You go down the middle path because you do not wish to anger me. I think that was what made you… unmemorable? Invisible? I cannot describe it, but sometimes I think you purposefully twist what you think is true to please me. Do you really still fear me that much?" Edward bowed his head slightly in shame and fear.

"It is nothing to be ashamed of Estonia. There is only one person who does not possess or appear to have any fear of me, and he is sitting a mere five tables away from us." Estonia glanced up into Russia's lavender hued eyes to see that there was absolute truth in his statements.

"I am sorry to start the conversation with such a heavy topic. I think we should switch to the lovely illustrations in this place. The owner has excellent taste." Russia smiled sweetly as he turned his attention to the artwork. Estonia was so engrossed with the pleasantness that Russia displayed that he had not even realized what had happed to him until several minutes' later when casual conversation ended.

The pale, arctic nation had sincerely apologized to him. Never in the history between the two as nations or people, has Russia ever been sorry for anything. There were times that he would quickly say sorry for punishing them harshly for breaking a tea cup, having the chores unfinished, or not being prompt with attendance, but he never had any emotion in his voice when he said it. Estonia felt awful for not realizing Lithuania's concerns sooner. Russia's demeanor and attitude had really changed since America's absence. Sure, while Edward was more comfortable with this new Russia, but the human aspect of him, felt terrible that Ivan Braginsky was depressed and very alone.

Estonia now dreaded the seating choice of their waiter. America and England were walking by the table to leave the restaurant, talking horribly loudly and not even paying attention to either Russia's or his presence at all.

"Humph! This is the last time I try to do something nice for you. Honestly, I do not care if you die of a heart attack anymore. Go eat that dribble you call fast-food." England snapped in a slightly quieter voice. America was either used to the treatment or did not notice (which was not uncommon for the young nation) and laughed heartily.

"Oh Iggy-baby, you are so crazy sometimes. You actually think I get tired of MacDonalds. I mean, how long have you known me man?"

Estonia turned to Russia to see how he was responding to the two men, but to his surprise, Russia was calmly observing them with only a touch of sadness laced in his eyes. The only thing the large nation did was mumble how America used to say that he was his "baby" when they were together as well.

"Stop calling me by that humiliating name! You are disgusting…" The United States smiled and reached out to once again intertwine their fingers together and flashes a glimmering smile.

"I'm sorry I'm not more appreciative. I'm having a great time with you England, and I'm sorry that you don't like my nickname for you. It's just that you drive me crazy, even when I see you, so I will always be different around you. I want to nickname you because… well, I think it's more affectionate and intimate than just calling you England or Britain." The thick-browed man blushed.

"Hm… at least I am impressed by how much you have seemed to improve when it comes to your vocabulary."

"Hahaha! Yes Iggy, I use big boy words now! Isn't that awesome?" The two finally reached the front entrance and both Russia and Estonia could no longer hear them.

"Estonia, do you think that England can see past the sweet charm and see America as he really is? The façade is definitely strong; I will give him that much, after all, he had made me a fool to it. Oh yes, I was played much like a puppet under the hands of a very skilled master. I do not know when are where he had the time to perfect it, but America must have had either a great mentor or natural talent for seduction and deception. His national bird is a Bald Eagle, but I think that the animal most fitting to America is a Preying Mantis. Do you know anything about them Estonia?" The shorter blonde shook his head. It appeared that America and England's close presence was slowly bringing the old Russia back.

"It is a rather long, thin insect that is known to be violent and unappealing most of the time. Almost unnaturally though, during the mating season, they are rather docile. They approach each other and are very cordial to each other until they mate. Once the mating process is over, the female because she is usually the larger of the two, proceeds to eat her mate. Yes… America is very similar to the preying mantis." Russia then roughly grabbed his beige, table napkin from his lap and placed it on the table.

"I no longer have the appetite to eat Edward, but please enjoy yourself. This appears to be a fine establishment and I do not want my actions to ruin your hunger." Russia bowed slightly before swiftly marching out. Before Estonia could get out of his seat, the elder nation was already outside and out of sight.

Ivan held all his tears back until he reached his car. It was only in the driver's seat did he allow the hot tears to stream down his face. His face did not contort in anguish, nor did it turn red. Russia only had tears. The pale nation knew his behavior was irrational, but he could not help it. As unimaginative and horribly corny as it would sound, America was the sunshine of his life. Now that the young man was erased from his life, the clouds always seemed to block the sun when Ivan was outside. All the bright hues and neon lights were dull, and even his favorite things seemed to depress him now. He took no joy in seeing Prussia or the others tremble with fear, playing with Russia-cat did not make him feel any less hollow, and Ivan could not even muster enough energy to fear his younger sister.

"This is ridiculous of me, sitting in my car crying." Russia said to himself before dabbing away the tears with the tissues he kept in the glove compartment. He slowly drove home, dreading being there. It was not Belarus' presence that made him so anxious, it was the idea of sleeping in his bed without America that was what made his house so frightening.

Ivan immediately exited the car and decided to sit in the living room in his favorite armchair. It was one that the Romanovs had given him. The pale blonde man wondered why he decided to sit here, but then remembered the horror that waited him upstairs and started watching television. The television used to blank his mind of all thoughts, but lately it had not been able to numb it as well as in the past.

Alfred loved watching television. When they had been having more frequent one-night stands (during the period of denial for their feelings for each other), the American had complained about the lack of entertainment in Russia's house. At first, Russia said that he would not give into the bratty demands of the capitalist nation. For weeks he had denied the thought of obtaining a television just for his bedroom companion. But the toll of the shorter blonde's aqua blue eyes begging him though was too great and Ivan had finally succumbed to purchasing the electronic device. Russia felt odd about explaining to the nations under what England dubbed "the Iron Curtain" at the time why Russia was buying this luxury item, since he was still trying to keep his relation a secret. However, all of them seemed to miraculously know about America's presence and did not mind the television in the house. In fact, during times of awkward hardship, the television was a great distraction for them (especially Prussia).

There was also a monumental memory that the television also held. It was an average day in the living room where America and Russia were watching an American television show, when the American blurted out the words.

"I love you, you know that right?" Ivan's eyes bulged to twice their size. Did he really hear the American correctly?

"Could you repeat that statement?"

"Yeah, I know it's a little weird big guy. I didn't really want to believe it myself. But I know that deep down I really love you. Everything is so boring without you around… so I love you, I love you, and oh! I love you." The younger country grinned casually.

"You don't have to say you love me though. I am not trying to pressure you. It's just something that I needed to get off of my chest. Apparently everything you do will drive me crazy somehow…" Russia smiled at the other's innocent words and pulled Alfred Jones into a tight embrace.

"Easy big guy! I know it's awkward hearing that from your capitalist enemy, but that is no reason to choke me to death!" Ivan laughed and nuzzled his face into the other's fragrant hair and intoxicating warmth.

"No, I think that I love you too. You may be an idiot, but you are mine."

"Don't say things you don't mean Ivan. I know I love you…"

Russia snapped out of his memories and felt the urge to laugh.

"You love me? You love me! Do not say such horrible untruths!" He yelled. Russia heard footsteps coming down the stairs and his heart fluttered for a millisecond. America?

"Big brother, I say I love you because I do. I like saying that I love you big brother. If I did not love you, I would not be here." It was Belarus' demure voice. Russia's face grew hot from embarrassment. He was usually more in control of his feelings than this, and he hoped this outburst would not become the norm.

Belarus was in her usual indigo dress and white frills, stood at the entrance of the living room with a single candle in her hand. The little flame brought an unusually peaceful look to her face, even though it was full of worry and sadness.

Ivan's younger sister took the closest seat next to his, and placed the candle down onto an old end table.

"You do realize that you would not feel so awful if you just allowed me to kill that swine and then get married to me, yes? If not big brother, I am telling you I can make all those things I have said a reality." She calmly suggested.

"No, that will be unnecessary." Russia paused to sigh. "I will feel better soon without having to follow up on those actions. But thank you Natalya, you are always there for me when I think I am all alone." He slowly lifted his large frame off the chair and gently wrapped his arms around his sister.

"The only good that has come about from your sadness is that you no longer fear me big brother."

"Yes, it is rather unusual. I noticed that as well." He kissed her on the forehead, hoping perhaps if he did, he could get the taste of America out of his mouth. He paused afterwards to check for himself, but knew that he still memorized the way Alfred skin tasted, the softness of his lips, and the younger nation's scent.

"I am going to bathe. Please do not follow temptation and try to spy on me."

"You do not like it when I do so, so I will not watch you." Belarus smiled, knowing that Ivan was joking.

"Thank you Natalya, for everything." He gave her another quick peck on the cheek before heading upstairs into his bathroom. The Russian bypassed his bedroom chamber as fast as he could, not wanting to look at the dark, frozen abyss that many would call his bed.

Ivan stepped through the ivory colored tiles to reach the ocean blue bath rug. He frowned, noting to himself to remove any blue color in his house in fear of being reminded of Alfred and proceeded to strip himself of clothing.

The scarf that Ukraine had fashioned for him was the first to come off, and he folded the garment neatly and set it on the counter. It was the only peace of clothing that he truly cared for, and although he never seemed to be able to keep close contact with his older sister, he still cherished the scarf. All other articles of clothing were tossed into the laundry hamper, so that they would not get wet on the floor.

After the creaking of turning the faucet knobs, Russia soon sighed under the bliss of the warm water. The softened liquid felt wonderful on his cold skin, delightfully giving the tissues a pink hue. Ivan always thought he looked best after bathing. The extra pigment made him feel as if he appeared more human and less ethereal, winter creature. He scrubbed his skin vigorously in circular motions with a loofah, making sure to get all parts of his body. Russia remembered the first time he had seen America use this odd cleansing tool.

"What are you doing?" Russia asked. The two would shower together on occasion to save time (his bathroom was large enough for the two to use simultaneously).

"I'm scrubbing myself."

"What is this device that you are using?" Ivan said, pointing at the fibrous, strange sponge.

"It's a loofah. It's made out of actual luffa plants that are dried. They're really great at making people feel clean. Now that I use one I can never go back to just a suds up towel." Alfred then handed Ivan the loofah.

"See for yourself. It's awesome!"

Russia groaned and threw the sponge onto the shower tiles. He never had flashbacks of the America in his bathroom. Ivan sighed. It was then that he declared to dispose of any objects that reminded him of America, and that he would not leave his house until he no longer had annoying feelings for the other.

The tall nation quickly finished his bath and got dressed in his usual white pajamas.

He thought about which item to dispose of first, to set his plan in the right direction. The American never used the mirror, so that item could stay where it was. Although the drawers had once had some of the shorter blonde's clothes, it might take a while before Russia could find a suitable replacement for them. It was when his eyes met his bed did he know what to do. His bed. It was an infuriating object that he thought that he could live with, but no more. Ivan pulled out the matches that he kept in one of his nightstands, staring intently at the reddish flame. At that moment, the little fire at the end of the match was beautiful. It was going to solve all his problems and emotional turmoil, and it asked nothing in return but to feed it. Feed the flame. Russia tossed the match onto the center of his bed. At first the flame stayed constant, but soon the fire swallowed the fluffy, down comforter. Once the flames had gotten stronger, they moved to the sheets, the pillows, and finally the heavy wooden frame. Ivan smiled, watching the event play out in his own world. He did not hear the smoke alarm, nor did he hear Belarus bursting into his room. It was only when his younger sister put the fire out was he snapped back into reality.

"Big brother! What are you doing?" She gasped.

"This is something I need to do dear sister. There are just some things that need to be… purged."

"Then throw them away! Do not harm the house." She snapped. It was odd of her to be so angry with her brother. Russia knew that he had let too much insanity take over him and took a deep breath.

"You are right Natalya. I will go sleep in another room." Ivan said before leaving the burnt room. Belarus stood for a moment and looked at the charred remains of her brother's bed.

"I thought that time healed all wounds. It seems my brother is immune to its power." She said before going to sleep herself.

It was two months after Belarus informed Lithuania about Russia burning his bed that the brunette came to visit. He felt terrible about not coming sooner, but his boss had a very full schedule for him to follow. Still, the valid excuse did not rid the Lithuanian of his guilt. Although Russia had never been very kind to him when he stayed at his house, he knew how sensitive Ivan was when it came to his feelings. America did not realize that he might have been the only true friend the Russian made… he did not probably see either that he was the only one that Ivan opened himself to. While he did not wish for America to shoulder all the blame, he could not help but think it was cruel of the other to be so inconsiderate.

Toris sighed and knocked on the door. He heard a quiet, feminine voice calling out "Who is there?" and he perked up a bit at the thought of seeing Belarus' pretty face.

"It is Lithuania, I am here to visit Russia." The brunette said. He did not expect Belarus to slam the door open and welcome him with an embrace. Toris grew hot under her touch and was thankful that she quickly pulled away.

"Why did you not come when I told you?"

"My boss made me adhere to my schedule. I could not come sooner than this."

"I see. Maybe it is too late then…" She mumbled.

"Come inside. Winter is over, but it is still cold outside." The pale girl stepped aside to allow Lithuania entrance to the house. He nodded and walked enough inside so that Belarus could close the door.

"My brother is in the old dining room eating breakfast. Do you want some food as well?" She asked.

"I would not mind some bread." Lithuania admitted. Natalya nodded and briskly walked back into the kitchen. Toris navigated his way through the familiar house and immediately spotted the person he was here to see. Ivan was sitting at the head of the table, drinking what appeared to be orange juice. Lithuania smiled but it quickly disappeared when he noticed something strange. Russia's face did not seem as full as it once was. He remembered Estonia saying that the taller nation's appearance was different than usual, but he did not think it was this radical. It was only when Russia saw him standing did Lithuania put on a smile and sat down calmly next to the other country.

"Good morning Lithuania, are you here for any particular reason?"

"No Mr. Russia, I am only here to visit you. Nothing else." Lithuania confessed.

"This is why I liked you the most out of the three Baltic nations. You genuinely appear to care for others. It is nice to see that that kindness exists." The brunette frowned slightly. He wished that he could make the excuse that Russia was only feeling this way due to Belarus' horrible cooking skills, but Ivan's sister was actually an excellent chef.

"I am sorry that you feel that way Mr. Russia. My experiences in life tell me that I am not an unusual case."

"Is that so? It must be nice to live in such a world…" Russia blissfully sighed. Belarus came in with a large platter of toast and several small jars of jam and butter.

"Thank you Natalya, I had forgotten to ask out dear guest if he wanted anything."

"It is no trouble big brother."

"No, no, it was inconsiderate of me. I think since you made such a wonderful meal that I should escort Toris around the house and show him the new improvements." Lithuania noticed that Belarus noticeably cringed.

"… yes big brother, please show Lithuania what you have done to the house."

"Marvelous! You shall see Lithuania, it is much better than before." Toris nodded before grabbing himself a piece of toast. While the newspaper distracted Russia, Belarus looked at him with pity. What had the Russian done to the house that Belarus was worried for his safety? The brunette grew accustomed to Ivan putting various traps randomly around the house due to his natural paranoia, and he knew how to avoid all of them. He might not have lived with them for very long, but the body always remembered something when it came to survival. What horror lay deep inside the old mansion so many people once occupied?

Once the two men were done eating, Russia and Lithuania both handed their dishes to Belarus and started the tour. Russia had pointed out in the first room, the living room, that the television and modern couch were gone. Lithuania remembered that America had bought that couch for Ivan's house because he did not like the antique furniture. He knew that Russia would not react well to the dissolve of his and Alfred's relationship, but the brunette did not know how extreme it would be.

"I think it looks much better without those silly, childish things. It appears more regal." Russia smiled. Lithuania nodded nervously.

"As proud as I am on this room, this is only the beginning of my great purge of the house. Let us go upstairs now." Toris groaned inwardly. Russia was famous for purges during the communist era when he felt there were a great amount of traitors among him. Now he was feeling this irrational fear not only towards people, but also with the objects of his house!

The wallpaper in the upper floor was shredded, as if a tiger caged in the large house kept clawing at it as a means of escape. Some of the wallpaper that was torn still lay limp on the floor, waiting for the trash bins that were filled to the brim to be emptied so they could take their place. The carpet was also not as plush as it used to be. It had also taken on a strange polka dot pattern of sorts. If Lithuania had to guess, it appeared that large sections of it had been on fire at one point, but then the fire was quickly put out before it would spread to all of it. Although it greatly disturbed him to see Russia so proud of this mess, he did not see anything that was too unusual from the pale nation. He would simply ask Russia's boss if he could repair some of the cosmetic damages.

"This is magnificent, is it not? But my bedroom is where most of the improvements have taken place."

Shattered glass littered the burnt floor. The wall that shielded the room from the outside world was gone, as if a crane rammed through it. The snow was piling up on a corner of the exposed house, soaking the wood and brick and slowly crumbly both. All the magnificent red hues were stripped from the walls that did remain in the room. The paint hammered off through violent means, exposing the insulation that would have kept the room at living conditions. Now the only colors that filled the room were charcoal gray, pitch black, and the white of lingering snow.

"Is it not amazing how much as changed? I think it is nice to go back to a more rustic feel." Russia beamed.

"It is certainly a lot of... work that you have done Russia. But where is your bed?" Lithuania asked nervously, unsure of how the unstable man would answer.

"I sleep in another room. I'm afraid that I did so well with my decorating plan that the floor can no longer provide support very well. Do you see that hole in the floor? I fell through that while making more improvements on the room." Lithuania nodded, not knowing how to say how he truly felt.

"This purge is great. Did you know that until you came here, I have not thought of America all this time? Yes, before I gagged on the memories of him. I was almost drowning in them. But now that I have ridden my life of him, I feel fantastic. I feel strong again." When Russia flamboyantly waved his arms, one of his jacket sleeves slipped down. Russia's jacket never slipped before for it was custom designed specifically for he body. The accident revealed just how skinny the other was. His arm was possibly thinner than Lithuania's, and the brunette was not what one would call a bulky man.

A beeping sound rang from Ivan's pocket. He picked up his cellphone and smiled.

"Ah, it is time for my third bath of the day. Will you excuse me Lithuania?" Third? Toris nodded for he wanted time to think of how to help the pale nation with his decline in rationality.

"Yes, everything must be purged. Everything must be clean. Everything must have no trance of him. Sunflower..."


The End

Sorry it is not happy. It really bothers me that it isn't, so I'm thinking of writing a Russia/Anyone besides America fanfic that will be a sequel to this one. But I am not really sure which country. I think that China would be a good one, but it might be TOO obvious. But I would like other people's ideas on that.

Read and Review please!