She died.
He, then, wanted to die too.
He started being suspicious when Belarus didn't appeared wherever he go. He figured out that she probably went to somewhere; so he ignored it.
How wrong.
They found her, somehow, in her home. She lay on her couch. They suspected suicide; but there seems to be a break-and-enter, since the door is broken.
What puzzled them is that there are no signs of struggling. It is as if Belarus willingly let herself die.
England started working on it- Sherlock Holmes, after all, came from him. He assured him that it is not , in any case, his fault. Still, Russia felt empty.
He love his sister. He really does. And he would be lying if he said that he love her not in that way. It's just that he wants her to do better.
And he exploded when her "to do better" is, of all the freaking nations, America.
But he decided to let it slide.
They broke up and became best friends after a year.
It is exactly 2 days, 7 hours, and 34 minutes since Belarus died.
And Russia is still counting.
England is doing his best. The Baltics and Ukraine visits him. The other nations assured him that in 22 hours, Belarus will be reborn.
But I don't want any other Belarus, He drawled to Estonia and Ukraine, when he came home drunk and expected that she would lunge at him and care for him. I only want Natalia.
In the end, they just escorted him and told him that she would be back for him. He laughed because, despite the intoxications and hazy visions, he know that she's gone. What a lie.
England came knocking at his door with a child in his hands.
She looks exactly like Natalia- Azure eyes, silver hair, and porcelain skin. She looks fragile.
Arthur told him that the kid finally appeared.
They still call her Natalia. She smiled and thanked them for welcoming her.
He can't help but notice that she did every little thing that his Natalia used to. The way she tilt her head. The way she dance on the snow. The way she speaks. The way she walks.
But she's still not his Natalia, he thought bitterly.
England told him that Russia should at least write a letter, for Belarus.
So he sat at his desk. And there, admist the paper works and newspapers, lay a single piece of paper where he will write what he wanted to tell her.
Everything. A voice inside his head reminded him.
So he wrote. It's not long; he doesn't want the letter to be kept longer- he might cry. And he once promised Belarus that he would not cry.
Sealing his letter, he went to her favorite lake and drop it there.
He watched as the letter slowly fell down, as if it was drowning.
Dear Sister,
I love you. I really, really do. I wanted to tell you that I regret the fact that I have not accepted your marraige proposals. I, for one, dream that I'll be the one proposing to you. Yes, I do.
So wait for me there, wherever the hell you are, because there is a little Natalia here. She looks just like you. But wait for me, da? We never really got to burry you, but I should tell you that no brother should burry his sister. It's painful to just see you lie there.
I miss your voice. And your eyes. And your hug. Technically, I miss you. And everything in you.
Little Natalia once had a dream that an older version of her- but not quite her- is speaking to her. She is crying, but she is trying to be strong.
She told her that her name, too, is Natalia. She asked Little Natalia to tell Russia-"Vanya", she says- that she is so sorry that she caused him pain. She also said that Little Natalia should take care of him, for her.
Then everything disappeared.
Russia listened to Little Natalia.
She told him that a girl -"She's so beautiful and her name is Na-ta-li-a," she pronounced Belarus' name carefully- told her something to be said to Ivan.
He listened, and thanked her. She curtsied and went to Ukraine, who offered to bring her to her favorite lake.
Na-ta-li-a. He chuckled as he repeated Little Natalia's voice in her head. Did you tell her that I called you that once , too?
It is exactly 6 days, 3 hours and 13 minutes since Belarus died, and Little Natalia appeared.
Since then, there was no news from England. This case is very hard- Russia is close to giving up. After all, Little Natalia is here.
But the more he looks at her, the more he realized that Little Natalia looked like a memoir of all the pain Belarus held inside. But he kept silent about it.
He dreams about her. It is always about her, standing in front of him, smiling. She will call his name, and then everything would disappear.
He closed his eyes, as sleep took over him.
The Older Natalia stood in front of him. But she wasn't smiling anymore.
Instead, she was crying.
"Natalia?" He thought something was not right.
"I am sorry, Vanya."
How long has it been since anyone ever called him that? Even then, how long has it been since he heard her voice, saying that?
"Why?"
Natalia walked towards him.
"Thank you, Vanya."
She didn't answer him. He shook his head. "Natalia...?"
"Мне шкада пакінуць вас.." She hugged him, and even though he know that this is a dream, he willed himself to believe that it is not.
"Дзякуй за вашу любоў..." She released her grip and lightly held his hands. "Vanya, Я буду сумаваць па табе."
"I love you."
And she kissed him. And, god, it felt real.
She ended it, and closed her eyes. Softly, she whispered, "До свидания."
He wanted to cry. Right there. It wouldn't have mattered if she use Russian, but she used it now. "Natalia!"
She is starting to disappear. "Natalia! I-" his voice is pleading and vulnerable. "I love you."
She opened her Azure eyes and smiled, for the last time. "Oh, Vanya," She said, "I love you, too."
Then she was gone.
"До свидания..." He whispered to the dark.
He woke up and saw the first ray of dawn seeping through his curtains.
She could still feel her.
"Net," He whispered, barely hearing himself. "It's not goodbye yet."
It is exactly 7 days, 0 hours, and 35 minutes since Natalia died.
After that, Ivan's clock seems like it broke. He never calculated the time or date. Sometimes, he felt like it became a habit , even if he did it in just 6 days. And sometimes, when he is alone in the dept of the night, he would know how much time it has been since Natalia died.
But he could feel her. He would always feel her.
Little Natalia looked up to Russia. "Brother?"
"Call me Vanya," He smiled at her for the first time. He saw the same azure eyes. "That'll be fine."
"Van-ya." Little Natalia syllabicated, and smiled.
He smiled back.
Fail story is fail. This is a first, so forgive me. Thank you for reading! A review would be nice, though...
Please don't hesistate to point out my corrections. I will use the worn-out excuse then: English is not my first language.
And so is typing.