[IMPORTANT!] Author's notes: This is my first fanfic, so please bear with me with any spelling, grammar, punctuation mistakes and OOC-ness in the characters' side. This fic is created in cooperation with my friend Ms-Octoberry, so the plot is half hers to claim. Just to note that I will put OCs for plot-wise reasons, so those of you who can't stand OCs, just a forewarning, I'll be putting exactly twelve official OCs in this story, they'll be quite important to the plot, along with a few extras like Russia's parents that I think you won't care about. Also, sorry if the story's bad, I'm kind of rushing with this chapter. Lastly, if there's anything that doesn't make sense or defies the laws of physics; a thousand apologies for that, I'll try to do something about it…maybe.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hetalia series, Himaruya Hidekaz does.

PROLOGUE

PART 1

"You look very handsome, my little Ivan," a woman smiled down to her son. The little boy giggled and wrapped his arms around his mother in a tight embrace. The woman smiled, hugging her son back as he played with the various multi-colored beads hanging in various patterns from the dark red shawl laced around her narrow shoulders. Her maroon dress fluttered down in waves ending with an intricate pattern of lace and embroidered flowers. Her platinum blonde hair was tied in a tight bun, adorned with jeweled, red, fabric flowers; her violet eyes shone under the bright light of the large bedroom.

"Do I really mama? Will I be able to impress papa?" He asked giddily, his small hands playing with the multi-colored beads. She smiled and patted his, similar to hers, platinum blonde hair. His bright violet eyes looked up to her in amusement. His mother bent down to his eye-level and smoothened out the creases on his beige brown coat, then moved to help him slip on his dark brown boots. She smiled as she made the finishing touches to his hair and clothes.

"Why of course, Ivan," she replied, patting his hair down, "Your papa always had high hopes of you, but he never forgets that you are only human, and a child for that matter, " he giggled as she tickled his nose, "Now be on your best behavior and make us proud this evening, alright?" Ivan nodded feverishly, clutching his mother's hands tightly.

"Da! I promise to be really, really good mama! I'll make papa, mama, Katyusha, Natalia and the entire Braginski family proud! And then, they'll accept me, right mama?" He exclaimed excitedly, grinning from ear to ear. His mother nodded absentmindedly and put on her own dark red winter boots. Ivan puffed out his cheeks, slightly irritated that his mother was barely paying attention to him. She took another minute to fix up her hair and grabbing her purse. She stopped right in front of the door and smiled towards Ivan.

"Come along now Ivan," she said as she extended her right hand to him, "We don't want to keep your papa and your sisters waiting, now do we?"

"Coming mama!" He ran up to her, not caring if his boots were a size too big for him and very hard to even walk in, and latched his small hand to his mother's. He held on to his mother's warm and inviting hand. He loved his mother deeply, along with his father and two sisters. He loved them all deeply. Even if the rest of his family didn't accept him as one, he did not care. As long as his father, mother and two sisters accept him, he would never care.

"Oh dear, I almost forgot!" She cried out suddenly. She quickly took her hand out of Ivan's tight grasp, much to the displeasure of the little boy. She hurried across the room, her heels clicked against the marble floor. Ivan's eyes followed her figure, as she sauntered towards the tall burgundy wardrobe which stood tall and proud against the cream-colored walls. Her beaded shawl flowed slightly in the small rush of wind. She pulled the doors to the wardrobe open, revealing a row of fancy dresses and suits of various shapes, colors and sizes. She bent down to reach a medium-sized, fancily decorated box located underneath the row of clothing. She motioned for Ivan to come closer to her, and he followed her as she sat down on the beige king-sized bed.

The box she held was not big nor was it small, it was so-so, or, the more appropriate term, medium-sized. It was decorated, really fancily to an almost tacky arrangement, with a light blue wrapping paper with fluorescent snowflakes that shone under the lights. It was heavily decorated with miles of blue ribbon, in the shape of decorative bows, or to wrap around the box. One thing was for sure, it confused little Ivan as to what it was.

"This is a gift for you, Ivan," she explained as he climbed up next to her, "Katyusha worked day and night making this on time for today, Natalya helped with wrapping it, since she's still much too young to be holding something so dangerous. You must thank them later." She gave the box to Ivan, his small hands wrapped around the sides of the box. He tried to carefully unwrap the gift, since Natalia was the one who wrapped it, though with a multitude of wrapping paper, ribbons, glues and tapes sticking firmly to the box, let's just say it was quite the challenge for a small boy to do.

"Here, let me help you, my little Ivan." His mother cooed as she bent down and helps Ivan carefully tear away at the wrapping paper. Ivan smiled as he finally managed to pry away the tape and the glue from the ribbon and wrapping paper. His mother gently tugged at the rest of the wrapping paper and, finally, they were able to unwrap the present completely. Ivan's smile grew wider as his mother lifted the lid of the box, eager to see what his elder sister had made for him.

His eyes widened in surprise as his mother took out a bundle cloth, of beige wool, and wrapped it around Ivan's neck. His small hands reached up to his neck, where he touched the soft texture of the scarf and nuzzle into its warmth. The slight smell of mothballs and fresh woolen yarn filled his nose, as he happily brought the scarf closer to his face.

"Do you like it, Ivan?" His mother asked; slight amusement evident in her voice. She watched as her son nodded his head slowly, lost in the warmth the scarf gave him. His mother laughed coyly and patted her son gently on the head. Ivan however was too lost in the reverie to smile back or even acknowledge her presence. The scarf did more than just warm his neck, shoulders, ears and half of his face; it radiated the care and love his family gave him. He could feel the warmth of his elder sister's hands while she knitted, their mother's hands brushing against her hands while she helped, their father holding it up to admire the finished product, and the smell of his younger sister as she snatched the scarf away and hugged it close, which slightly terrified Ivan.

The sound of bells rung throughout the room, cutting him out of his reverie, and both mother and child snapped their heads to the old grandfather clock that loomed in a corner of the room. The clock struck eight, its intricately carved hands pointing to both twelve and eight on the clock's face. The old grandfather clock always managed to find ways to scare Ivan, this time; it scared him with a foreboding feeling of death. Though Ivan, being only a child, thought nothing further of it.

"Oh dear," His mother exclaimed as she stood up from the bed and smoothened her skirt, "We're late! Come now, Ivan, quickly!" She grabbed her purse from on top of the bed, not bothering to get Ivan who was looking at her with a dazed expression, and looked into her reflection in the vanity. After making sure there was nothing wrong with her hair, she rushed out of the room, her skirt flowing in the breeze behind her.

Ivan snapped out of his trance as soon as his mother walked out of the door and he quickly jumped off the bed. He wrapped his beige scarf once again around his neck and ran in his two-sizes-too-big-boots out of the room. Once, he got out of the room, he immediately missed the warm, bright light that his parents' room had to offer.

The Braginski manor corridors were, almost entirely not at all, scarcely lit. The long, winding passages either lit by only a row of dim light bulbs, or by the faint light of the moon outside of the manor. Ivan always felt insecure being in the corridors late at night, as, to his displeasure, at least ten trees were planted right outside the window, in the manor grounds, that formed a small forest. As if the looming trees and the nocturnal animals that tend to live on those trees weren't enough, those trees were a thousand times creepier during winter.

Ivan gulped; it certainly was not very reassuring to see the trees looming over him under the light of the moon, in the dark corridor. Its leaf-less twigs and branches rustled in the bitter winter wind. Bits of snow would fall to the ground from the tips of the twigs or from the patches of snow from the branches. And the sounds of the normal nocturnal animal life still scared him. Without a second thought, Ivan ignored the windows and ran straight to his mother.

Sometimes he wondered how the adults did it; walking in dark corridors at night with no means of light other than that from the moon and with the dark and dreary trees looming right outside as if it were nothing! Even Katyusha, his elder sister, could do it without a bat of an eyelid! He was thankful of that, though, her room was the closest to his and Natalya's rooms if there was a raging winter storm.

"Mama, wait for me! Slow down!" He yelled after his speeding mother, only to fall on deaf ears. His mother did not even slow down, instead, she quickened her already fast pace. Ivan panted as he tried to match his own running pace with his mother's, his beige scarf flapping wildly behind him. He didn't know how long or how far he had been running after his mother, the only thing that mattered was reaching his mother.

Finally, after getting too tired of running and the strain his boots had put him, he tripped on thin air and fell flat on his face.

"That hurt, da…" Ivan whimpered as he stood up from the ground and dusted himself. He looked up and around the winding hallways to see his mother had completely disappeared from his line of sight. He was alone, in one of the many dark corridors of the Braginski manor.

Ivan began to panic; he was never, ever left alone in a dark corridor late at night. Not only was that not very reassuring for both him and his parents, but it was also theoretically, and proven to be, impossible to be found when exploring the Braginski manor late at night. Not only were most of the corridors were left unlit; they always end up in a series of complex turns, secret passages, confusing intersections, and winding stairs.

Ivan looked back and forth for anyone, anything that could get him out of there! He contemplated on going back to his parents' room, in hope that his mother would find him there, but he was too far ahead to determine where the room, or even he, was. The hallways that used to be filled with rushing servants were desolate and empty, so he couldn't rely on them to lead the way.

In his mind, Ivan's thoughts went haphazard. He felt his eyes water as he looked back and forth between the corridors, hoping for a person, a sign, anything at all that could save him and get him out of there. It wasn't very reassuring that he can barely see where the corridors led to, nor can he hear anything but the nocturnal wildlife right outside the mansion.

He unsurely took a step forward, but changed his mind and stepped back to his original position. He took a step back, to take back his action and remain stationary at his spot. He repeated the same actions over and over again, until he gave up and slid his back down the wall, his face facing the full view of the beautiful night sky. Ivan's eyes widened at the sight before him, never had he seen such a beauty!

Ivan marveled at the endless blue sky, the stars twinkling light millions of tiny crystal light bulbs lighting the way to heaven, the moon grinning down at him in such a friendly and enchanting manner, and how the dark forests would blend into the background, making way for the main actors.

Ivan's eyes twinkled as he felt all his fear and anxiety melt away to let the blissful feeling engulf him completely. He stood up and ran towards the window, wanting more and more of the sight before him. He soon forgot of the party, his mother, and everything else that worried him as he stared into the moon. His curious violet orbs shone with glee and curiosity.

"How beautiful, da~" Ivan breathed as he planted his face on the cold glass. He smiled contentedly, and began to feel himself dozing off. He looked up again at the moon, and smiled up at it. He felt his eyelids getting heavier and heavier and his body slid down the glass. He gave a tiny yawn and felt himself go to a blissful, relaxing rest—

"Ivan! Where are you child?"

Without a second to spare, he pried his eyes open and looked around the hallways. No one was there, but he certainly heard his mother voice coming from one of the vast corridors! He promptly stood up and brushed any imaginary dust off his coat and scarf. He ran to where the voice was coming from, replying some times when his mother's voice began to fade away.

"Mama, I'm over here!" He yelled as he kept on running.

Soon, the sounds of his small steps echoing in the hallway were followed with the sounds of two or more pairs of footsteps running towards him. He gave a small smile as he saw bright flashes of light in the end of the hallway, he knew he was close, and he had no intention to be any farther away.

His mother came into view; worry staining her beautiful face, carrying a bright torch and running, or speed-walking, towards her son. Relief washed over her features as she saw Ivan coming closer into her own view and sped faster. Ivan couldn't be any happier to see his mother, either, and smiled brightly at her.

As soon as she reached him, she bent down, her torch forgotten, and squeezed Ivan in a tight hug, in which he returned happily. He smiled as he nuzzled into his mother's shawl, all his previous feelings of weariness, fear and anxiety gone and forgotten in his mother's embrace.

"Ivan! I was so worried," She exclaimed, squeezing Ivan tighter, "I'm so sorry, I should've slowed down for you to catch up. Are you okay, my dear?"

Ivan nodded excitedly, smiling one of his best smiles up to his mother. She smiled back and patted his head. She stood up from her previous position, not forgetting to pick up the torch, and smoothed her shawl and her skirt. She smiled gently at Ivan and offered a hand, which he gladly took.

"We have to get going now Ivan, your father and sisters are getting very restless for your arrival," she explained softly, before giving him an apologetic smile, "But, please hold on to my hand this time, okay?"

First part of the prologue. Reviews are very much appreciated, thank you.