Summary: Tuesday, 13th of April, 2010. Qinghai. He never thought that a disaster like the Sichuan's earthquake, two years ago, would repeat so soon. No one did.

Words: 500

Disclaimer: No, I don't own them. Yet.

The day was going to be really busy and stressful, so Yao woke up early as always to practice his tai chi exercises. Watching the sunrise from his garden was one of his biggest pleasures of the day, the colors and the slightly cold breeze just made his day even before it had started. He started to get ready for the meetings he had this day, wearing a westerner suit instead of the Chinese clothes he'd have chosen if one of the meetings wasn't so formal. When he left home, he had a feeling that something was going wrong… That something would happen at any time. He didn't pay attention and took the plane that would get him to Russia, the country where he had a big meeting in a few hours.

He arrived at the airport at 7.30. 'Perfect timing.' He thought. A driver picked him from the building and drove him to the building in which the meeting was set. When he got off the car and headed towards the door, a sharp pain hit his stomach, making him fall on his knees, gasping for air. He didn't have time to breathe anyway, he felt as if someone was kicking and punching his abdomen. He also knew that this wasn't any kind of physical illness, that something had happened in his country. Something serious.

'What's this, aru? What's happening to me? It can't be…' Were China's last thoughts before he passed out. In his head, he could still hear the screams, the cries, the sobs… The thunderous sound of buildings collapsing. The piercing sound of people yelling as the buildings collapsed on them. He could feel the fear, the sadness, the hopelessness of his people. He wanted to scream until his voice faded to meet the lives of so many people in his country, yet he had no voice he could use. He wanted to bang his head against the floor that now he was lying on so he wouldn't have to suffer his people's devastation, yet he wasn't able to get his body to move. He wanted to cling on somebody so this person would feel the same pain he was feeling, yet no one was there to help-

Was it his imagination? With his dull senses, he thought that someone had brushed their hand against his forehead. A large hand, a cold hand. A hand… He knew really well. Then, his body was lifted and he felt like he was floating. No, he wasn't floating… The warmth of another body against his confirmed him that someone had seen him and helped him. A soft piece of cloth tickled his nose, and he aimed with his hand to grab it with no success. Then, he heard the voice that lulled him to sleep with a promise.

"Don't move, Yao-kun." He sounded worried, too worried, and on the edge of tears. Ivan was about to cry for him. "I'll solve this, I promise. You'll be good... I promise."

My first drabble, with exactly 500 words, and my first fic in English… I hope it turned out good :) If you find any typos (there will be a lot, probably xD) please tell me, and… Well…

Don't be too harsh, English is not my first language! *Hides*