Sumina

-chapter one-

Beginnings

A/N: Well…this idea was really sudden. I actually liked it a lot, and I had thought for a while I wouldn't write anything with multiple chapters. Now look at this…multi-chapter fic! I've no clue how long this will turn out just yet. Hope you guys like it, too!

This is an AU, so I'm using human names over countries.

Axis Powers Hetalia and all its characters belong to Himaruya Hidekaz.

Rating: T, for violence, coarse language and a lot of gruesome images. The rating is liable to go up in future chapters, however.

Summary: When a strange mirror comes into his possession, Ivan Braginsky will be dragged into a world of twists and turns, bizarre people and extraordinary lands.

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"No! P-Please don't kill me, sir! I'll tell you where he is! I have relatives that live in your country—you can't!" The auburn-haired man wept like a child, clinging to his leg.

Ivan Braginsky looked down at the Italian for just a moment before lifting the adorned mirror up to his face. "What do you think, Yao?"

The elegant male within the mirror blinked slowly. "Let's hear what he has to say, aru."

Looking back down at the whimpering Italian, he shook him off his leg and snapped, "Hear that? We've decided you can live." He noticed an instant change in the man, who hopped up immediately and hugged him 'round the waist.

"Oh, thank you! Thank you so much! I'm Feliciano Vargas. Hey, you're a lot nicer than you look!" This man—Feliciano—was obviously too benevolent to be the culprit. Ivan rolled his eyes.

"Yes, yes," he was impatient at this point "nice, of course. Now then, Feliciano, tell us where Arthur Kirkland is…my patience with you is wearing thin."

Feliciano cheerfully pointed towards a tall tower in the distance, nothing but a dark silhouette in the thick mist that surrounded it. "Kirkland the Grand lives in the Glass Tower over there!"

"…A glass tower, aru?" Ivan raises the mirror so that he may see its resident. Wang Yao looks positively puzzled. "That makes little sense."

"Oh, but that's what everyone calls it! No one's actually gone to the tower…so for all we know it could be made of pasta!" Yao scoffs.

"That makes even less sense, aru."

Ivan chuckles. "Come, now—it matters very little whether or not the tower is made of glass or pasta. As long as we find who we are looking for. Yao, I'll be putting the mirror away now."

Yao nods gently, "Alright. I'll speak with you later than, aru." With that, the Russian man tucked the mirror within his coat pocket, bid farewell to Feliciano Vargas, and turned on his heel, back to their place of rest.

"Ah! Braginsky-san," Kiku bows slightly at the Russian as he enters their room. "Did you find what we are looking for?"

"Yes—our little Italian friend was very helpful. Tomorrow, we will find Mister Kirkland and figure this whole mess out." Ivan smiles pleasantly, though Kiku backs up. Pushing past the tiny black-haired man, he sits down in a chair near the window, looking around the simple room. Two beds, the chair he is sitting in, a nightstand between the beds with a lamp on it, and down a short, narrow pathway, an equally-tiny bathroom. Kiku is sitting on one of the beds, legs folded under him, reading from a book. On the opposing bed, Heracles sits, staring out the window as if in a trance. Ivan finds his mind drifting back to the mirror, wonders exactly how it came into his possession. It brought him to this very place, and he'd be damned if he didn't finish. As he does so, he closes his eyes, leaning his head back in the chair and slumping into it.

From the very beginning….

Ivan remembers the very day that he held the mirror in his hands. He was at home, alone—it was his birthday, in fact, and he had locked the doors. While most would want to spend their birthdays with family, he would rather spend it with friends. His crazed sister had made his life living hell for ten years, and finally, he had escaped. It was on his last birthday that she had found his residence and shown up on his doorstep, "Happy Birthday, brother! I love you…and I will forgive you for hiding. Now we can be together again, right?" He hid within his home and called the police while Natalia wrecked his home, destroyed the life he had finally started over. And still, he feared her presence…he locked the door behind himself every day he came home from work. Sourly, he sat at his dining room table, holding a burning candle between his fingers.

"Happy Birthday, Ivan," he blew the candle out and tossed it aside.

Happy Birthday, brother!

The doorbell rang. Ivan stood abruptly, causing his chair to topple over. Running to the door, he held a long pipe within his hand, pressed his back against the wall nearest to the door, and glanced outside it for any sign of who it was. Slowly, very slowly, he unlocked the door, turned the knob and threw it open; raising the pipe up, ready to strike. The man standing on his doorstep threw his hands up and panicked. "Gah! Jesus, man, put down the pipe!" Ivan let out a sigh of relief and dropped the pipe to the floor. The instant he did so, the stranger calmed and reached into a bag at his side. "Ivan Braginsky?" He still looked worried.

"Yes, that's me."

The stranger nodded and pulled a wrapped package from his bag, placed it in Ivan's hands, and stepped back. Ivan turned the package around once or twice before ripping the string off with ease, tearing through the paper and unwinding the bubble wrap that encased it. What lay in his hands afterwards, however, was something he did not expect. A hand mirror with a rectangular shape – the edges soft and rounded – surrounded by a polished silver trim, carved with ancient markings and adorned with one central red gem on the back: a shining ruby or garnet with beautiful, prominent facets. It shook and hummed slightly in his grasp. Ivan turned back to the stranger at his doorstep and fixed him with a curious gaze. "Who sent this?" The stranger winked and disappeared, nowhere to be seen. Needless to say, Ivan shut and locked the door tight, grabbed his pipe and wandered back into the dining room.

He turned the mirror over in his hands continually. From what he remembered, he had spent hours turning it over in his hands. Its beauty was not lost, and found that by turning it over, the ancient carvings were inlaid with sparkling opal. In spite of this, the object unnerved him. It would rattle and hum at any given time, which he was not accustomed to. The mirror, he decided, was far too chilling. When he went to bed that night, he sealed it up tight within his nightstand drawer. All through the night it would rattle and hum, and all through the night Ivan would stare at his nightstand in fear. The next day he would go to bed, the mirror would rattle and hum in its enclosure, and Ivan would stare at the nightstand, losing precious, precious sleep. Eventually he gave up and pulled the thing from the drawer, glaring at the reflection of the violet-eyed man that stared back. "Dammit, what do you want?!" And the instant he spoke this, another face stared directly at him.

"I want your help, Ivan Braginsky. Please," a delicate voice called from within the mirror. Its owner was a man with honey-brown eyes and long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail with a silk ribbon, slung over the shoulder, dressed in clothes he could pin only to Chinese origins. Ivan dropped the mirror and scream, toddling backwards and stumbled onto his bed. The mirror called back to him, "Mister Braginsky? Braginsky? Please, I know this is strange, but I need your help, aru! You are the only one who can help me now, aru!" His hands were shaking as he picked the mirror up once more and held the man in his eyes.

"Who are you…and…how in the world do you know my name?" Ivan must have looked terrified, as the delicate voice tried to soothe him.

"Shh…calm yourself, aru. If it will make you feel better…I am Wang Yao. I know your name because the one who trapped me in here told me it just before wrapping the mirror up." So the man said. Ivan was not entirely convinced.

"This isn't…what's going on?!" His glare must have frightened Yao, as his eyes widened.

"Please, calm down, aru!" He begged, and Ivan found himself calming. "Thank you. Now this all must be so confusing…but please…I need you to find out who sealed me away in this wretched mirror, aru!"

Ivan glared. "I am not entirely convinced. Give me some time, and I will decide whether or not to help you."

"How can I convince you, aru? What shall I do? It hasn't been long, and already, this is torture…" Yao's voice was weighed down by age and weariness; Ivan felt a pang of remorse go through his body, but his resolve was solid.

"You will talk with me every day. Keep me company. If I find that you are truly worth the trouble, then I'll agree." Yao closed his eyes and wept silently. Whether it was from stress, relief or the sudden twist that had been thrown his way, he was not quite sure.

The next few weeks were filled with conversations between the two. They spoke idly, often at random intervals. Ivan found that the mirror made the man weak, so Yao would often sleep. And in this time, Ivan would watch the slumbering man, admiring his immense beauty, all the while desiring him for his own. Whenever the man would stir, he'd place the mirror face-down on the table. It was only once that Yao had caught Ivan watching him, and even then, the sleepy man had forgotten it – perhaps had thought it was a dream. Ivan was thankful that the Chinese man was so tired. He enjoyed admiring the beauty, no matter how much it made him itch to meet him face to face. 'If Yao is beautiful within a mirror,' he reasoned, 'then he must be stunning outside of one!' And that was what made up his mind to do such a foolish thing. He had agreed to it, and he would no doubt regret it along the way.

After a month had passed, Ivan spoke the words Yao had wanted to hear since the day they had met. "Now then, Yao, what should I do? Who should I speak to? It's time we got going with this."

"I-Ivan, you…you're going to help me, aru?" Yao sounded stunned and absolutely hopeful. He couldn't let him down now.

"Yes, Yao; now explain how I should begin," Ivan fixed him with a hard stare.

"Of course, aru," Ivan noted how ecstatic the Chinese man was in both appearance and tone. "You need to find Francis Bonnefoy – he can identify magic signatures, and should be able to tell you exactly who did this to me, aru!"

"Hm," Ivan hummed "How will we get there?"

"I can use some of my magic, just so long as you're holding the mirror, aru. I won't be able to use much of it, though – it's mostly suppressed by this cursed mirror, aru," so he explained and Ivan nodded in response. It did not take him long to gather up the things he'd need: clothing, non-perishable food items, and his trusty pipe. However, there was quite a bit bothering him. Something did not feel right. He lay down upon his bed, ready to sleep, and told Yao he would be ready in the morning. Yes, he would be ready. He had already given his word to help. If he went back now, he would face the risk of disappointing Yao greatly. Somehow, he had made a connection with the man. A connection that he could not forget – one that made him worry what would happen to Yao, should he deny him. He fell asleep, thinking of the delicate man trapped within the mirror, and the whispering voice of his sister.

When he woke up in the morning, he dressed himself – careful not to forget his favorite scarf – and immediately gathered his things. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and held his water pipe in his free hand, the glittering silver mirror in the other. Lifting it to his face, he roused Yao from what seemed to be a deep sleep and told him he was ready.

"Okay, Ivan…close your eyes, aru," Yao commanded, and Ivan did as he said. He felt himself being swirled about, tossed left and right roughly, whipped around by a large gust of wind. This wind buffeted him relentlessly, even to the point that he feared he would lose the mirror in the wild rush of wind. Yet the mirror seemed glued to his hand. It was the only stable, stationary thing on him. The wind died down after what seemed an eternity. "You may open your eyes now, aru." Ivan took in a deep breath. What would lie in immediate sight?

When he opened his eyes, he was in a wildly new place.