Broken
By: VivaciousWolf245
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia-Axis Powers. All rights go towards their respective peoples.
Quick Authoress' Note: Honestly, I don't know what came over me to write this particular piece. I tend to avoid writing oneshots, and drabble in general, because I feel that it simply leaves everything too...unfinished, for lack of a better word. A friend of mine recently went through a bad bought of depression, and we call him Russia, so I think the slight similarity in mental situations got me a bit in a thoughtful state. Anyway, enjoy!
Broken
The snow fell softly. It was quite the contrast from the violent blizzard that it had been only scant moments beforehand, and he quirked a finely pointed eyebrow in curiosity before dismissing the idea entirely. The irony of it all was not lost on him in the slightest, but he had decided to keep the thoughts it brought at bay; if not entirely, then at least for a little while. They would do him no good, he decided - those thoughts filled with longing of a brighter place, void of the snow, void of the cold, void of the bloodshed that he had been forced to carry the burden of for so many long, long, terrible years.
Sure, in the beginning, it hadn't been so bad. He'd been so young back then, the light-haired man thought with a bitter, reminiscent smile. So carefree…he hadn't cared about a little blood tarnishing the snow of his land. Even back then he'd regarded the fine white powder with the wonder of a child. It had been fitting, but, all the same, it had been in the past. And the past, he had learned quickly, was usually not meant to be unburied from its entombments. A few centuries traipsing across Europe and Asia and all of the wars, the tragedies, had caught up to him. Yes, Ivan Braginski had found out a long time ago that he was not quite cut out to be a country. Then again, he wondered, who really was? Who was honestly ready to bear the blood, sweat, and tears of an entire nation? Who was ready to bear the burden of the causalities, the destruction, which could be caused? Who could be trusted to wield that sort of power?
To put it simply, he hadn't the simplest clue.
Then there was the fact that he was still there, his sense of duty outweighing the mental scars that wished for him so desperately to shove the heavy title onto someone else. However, that small part that had yet to be touched by the casualties of war. That small, barely living part that still held the innocence of a child didn't want to wish his burden on someone else. He couldn't. The responsibility was too great, the mental taxations even more so.
So, he gripped the water pipe that he always kept on his person, shifted the scarf that he wore around his neck, and slipped that damned fake smile on his face once more, ready to bear the burden. Bear that damnable, unbearable burden that only being a country could bring, even if it was only for another day, just so someone else wouldn't have to live through it.
Another crack traced itself through his resolve, spindling like a spider's intricate web through a dark abyss.
If one listened closely, one could hear the very sound of Russia's mind breaking, his resolve breaking…
…his very heart…
Final Words: Well...I hope you liked it. I've had so much going on lately, that my other stories have been lacking in their updates, but that should be fixed soon with me being on summer break and all. Well, matta ne!
R&R!
~VivaciousWolf