A fresh burst of pain ripped through Liang's chest as he coughed long and hard, spitting blood on the ground. The gunshot wound in the left side of his chest burned all the way down his arm, to his gut, and up through his head, only adding to his already-pounding headache.
Iskra 'tch'd as she angrily wound bandages around his wound, yanking harshly to get them tight. "And just how did you, the fastest of us supernations, manage to get shot by a damn American bastard?" she asked, gritting her teeth and holding back her anger. She knew that blowing up at him for something as trivial as a gunshot wound would be bad for her reputation, not to mention hurt him more, which was something she really didn't need in this war.
Liang winced as she pulled a little hard, turning white for a minute. He didn't answer, only looked over at the brunette and blond that sat side-by-side, the former tending the latter's broken arm. Zahra was scolding Asher, from what he could tell, for getting hurt like he did. Liang sighed, a twinge of something unfamiliar flitting across his mind, bringing with it a hot flash of anger. He paused, briefly wondering what he was angry at as the heat fizzled out.
He was brought back to reality with another sharp pain lacing across his chest. He hissed and jerked backward before he remembered that Iskra was bandaging him. He opened his eyes, which he didn't know he'd closed, and saw a very amused-looking Russian staring at him, a slight grin on her face. He blinked and felt his face heat up in a light blush. "A-ah, sorry... I... was thinking about something else..."
"Obviously. Now get back over here so I can check the knot. You moved before I could pull it tight." Liang obeyed and slid back over to Iskra, then sat still and quiet while she ran her hands over the tight bandages, checking the knotting and making sure she covered everything. Then, after thoroughly checking her work, she took hold of Liang's long hair, which had fallen loose during the fight, and clipped it back into the traditional ponytail he kept it in. She could feel him tense as she did this, but he soon relaxed as she ran her fingers through his long dark locks and pulled the clumps of dried blood from the fine strands.
Liang felt weird letting her play with his hair, but he just.... did. He felt her nimble fingers navigating through his hair, pulling the blood out with ease and cleaning the clip he used to hold his hair back with. The feeling of it reminded him of when China fixed his hair upon his request, just a bit strange since this was Iskra, the embodiment of the supernation, the Soviet Union.
Iskra leaned back a little and patted the smaller supernation on the head, then paused. "Where did I pick that up?" she wondered, running a mental list of all the Soviet nations. She paused at Poland and the Italies, but quickly shook the thought off. "Must just be something that comes with being a woman..." she decided. She stood up and offered a hand to Liang, who just stared for a minute. She rolled her eyes. "Take my hand. I'll help you up since you're injured."
Liang, slightly unsure, accepted the Russian's hand and stood, wobbling slightly as a new burst of pain exploded from his broken rib. He winced and took a deep breath, willing away the black spots that had appeared before him along with the pain. He noticed Iskra shooting him a concerned look and gave her a weak but reassuring smile. "I'm okay."
Iskra nodded, but she knew her eyes betrayed her. She didn't believe the younger supernation, not in the least. She knew his injuries were bad, worse than he was letting on. The blow he had taken from America had been hard enough that he surely had broken most of his ribs, fractured some bones in his arms and legs, and surely he had gotten a concussion from the impact his head took against the ground.
She stared at him without realizing she was, remembering how he'd been knocked out instantly from the impact, how he'd laid there with blood trickling down his forehead, how the damn blond man had stood over him, shot him, kicked him, shot him again. She clenched her fists, her face morphing from calm to angry, dangerous. She felt her anger boil up inside her, burning until she knew she had to beat something, make it suffer in order to calm down.
Iskra felt something, pressure on her arm, and jolted, her hand going to the crowbar she kept stored in her navy blue coat. Her mind managed to recognize the worried face of the Asian supernation before she struck him. She released the crowbar and sighed. "Damn it, Liang, you came this close to being knocked out again." She indicated the distance with her gloved fingers.
Liang pulled his hand back a little, still looking worried. "You kind of... spaced out for a minute... are you all right?"
Iskra nodded hesitantly. "Da." She sighed again. "I was just remembering something."
"America?" Iskra nodded and Liang winced, his head throbbing from the thought of the nation. "I don't remember much of the battle." he admitted, shrugging. "Although I do hate to admit it."
Iskra sighed and looked at the sky. The red, red sky. The red, red sky, the bleeding sky. She shook herself from her thoughts and looked at Liang. "I won't repeat it, for your sake."
"It was that bad?"
"Unfortunately."
The two supernations were silent for a minute. Liang broke the silence with an awkward, "We should go." Iskra glanced at him with a puzzled expression and he sighed in exasperation. "We're still in American territory. Let's head to... to... Japan, or England."
Iskra thought for a minute before connecting everything. Her face fell. "Oh, right. We should go." She called to Asher and Zahra, the latter looking very annoyed at being disturbed, and prepared to go. She glanced at Liang, then quickly looked away. "We will meet in Japan."
Liang did not argue. Giving her only a concerned look, he was gone in an instant. Iskra stood there for a moment, before turning her eyes to the sky and murmuring something in Russian. She shook her head and bolted after him. She forced the memory of that feeling, the warm feeling she'd had when she had looked into Liang's dark eyes, into the back of her mind. She gritted her teeth. "What was that feeling?" she wondered. The it hit her.
"It must be love."
A/N: Before anyone asks or goes "WTF IS THIS?!" I'll explain. I've designed a world/future for Hetalia, around 2100. It's WWIII and it's America vs the rest of the world. The other nations have divided into four supernations: The Soviet Union, made up from Russia, Germany, Finland, Norway, Sweden, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, Belarus, Ukraine, the Czech Republic, Slovakia, Hungary, Poland, Romania, Bulgeria, Germany, Austria, Netherlands, Denmark, Belgium, Switzerland, Slovenia, Greece, Turkey, Macedonia, Serbia, Albania, Montenegro, Italy, Kazakhstan, Mongolia, Syria, Iran, and Iraq; the English Republic, made up of England, Ireland, France, Spain, Portugal, and the continent of Africa; the Republic of Asia, made up of Japan, China, Australia, and most of Eastern Asia; and the Islamic Federation of Southwest Asia, which is made of Syria, Israel-Palestine, Saudi Arabia, Jordan, Yemen, Oman, United Arab Emerates, Qatar, Lebanon, Bahrain, and Kuwait with plans to annex Iraq, Iran, Turkey, Afganistan, Pakistan, Egypt, parts of India, and the Maghreb (Morocco, Libya, Tunisia, and Algeria). So, yeah. And they're going against the American Empire, which is made of the USA, Canada, Mexico, the Mediterranean, and all of South and Central America. I'll post up oneshots periodically of how life is for the nations within the American Empire and outside the Empire. But for now, this is for the supernations. BTW, the supernations do have personifications. The Soviet Union is Iskra Molozov Belousov, the English Republic is Asher Holmes, the IFSA is Zahra al-Rashid, and the Republic of Asia is Liang Hao. I'll post pics of them in my bio :D