Feeling the need to write something about a lonely Russia and putting a crazed Belarus in a different light this one shot came about. Hmm…no major warnings for this one except for suggestive undertones, and an ending that offers no resolution. And you may want to look up what a succubus is if you don't already know. Other than that, enjoy.

I do not own Hetalia.

It's been days since he last slept.

But it doesn't bother him much, he doesn't mind, doesn't stop him from smiling. It's good that he's not drifting off into his subconscious. Very good. Then he won't have to see her.

But he'd rather not think about her right now.

He walks the lone hallways searching for his good friend Toris. He had been waiting outside home education when the class period ended but out the stream of students who exited out of the room (and gave him odd stares. Why do they do that? He's smiling, he's polite, so why…?) he did not see the brown haired boy among them. Deciding that his friend must have gotten out of class early he begins to search for him.

He hopes the boy is not sick and had to go home early. That would make him quite sad. He likes Toris very much. His warm eyes, his slender frame that shivers and his smile that seems to bend into odd shapes but is never the less still there. Toris is weak. But his heart is strong, he knows that, saw it plainly when the boy walked up and said hello to him one day. So he tries everyday in his power to be the best friend he can be. Honestly he does.

But the lack of sleep may have made him a bit…off as of late. He remembers repeatedly smacking Toris hard in the back of the head with his chemistry textbook the other day. It wasn't like he wanted to hit him. It was just that Toris was trying to hang out with his other friends when he promised to spend the day with him. People who break their promises should be punished yes? But it was okay because Toris was so nice to him afterward even brought him ice cream! He even managed to get Toris's other friends to become his own as well (Eduard is likable because he is so smart and Ravis is horribly innocent. He likes them too.) So it is okay, it is, it's okay.

As he continues to wander he begins to notice there is hardly anyone in the hallways anymore. They must all be in the cafeteria by now. The young man frowns a bit. If Toris doesn't show up anytime soon they will miss lunch. That wouldn't be good. It is enough that he doesn't sleep, but missing a meal is not an option. His older sister used to tell him that when he was younger. They didn't have much but she always managed to make the best meals for me. Such good, warm meals they were.

"Eat Ivan! You make sister very happy when you eat. I want you to grow into a strong handsome young man. Okay?"

Ah but he mustn't dwell on sister too much. It's not good when he does, because it starts to hurt, and he doesn't want to hurt because then she'll…

His thoughts are cut off when he hears laughter from the art room.

The voices are merry and cheerful. Full of life. He is drawn to them and begins to make his way forward.

However as he gets closer he realizes that one of the voices sounds like Toris.

And when he opens the already cracked door he sees Toris alright along with another peer named Alfred. Alfred F. Jones.

Ivan doesn't like Alfred very much.

As soon as he appears in the doorway, the laughing ceases and Toris's wonderful brown eyes grow large. Alfred merely grins.

"What's up Ivan?" he asks in a tone that is too pleasing. But Ivan will not let this bother him. He merely smiles back.

"I am well. Thank you for asking." He replies back. He then turns his head to Toris who in turn flinches under his gaze. He is about to ask just why he would abandon him for a boy such as Alfred but the blond boy (the bright, energetic, wonderfulboy) beats him to it.

"I hope you don't mind me borrowing Toris here." He grins patting the slimmer boy on the back. "We just wanted to hang out a bit. Variety ain't bad right? It's not like you should hog him all to yourself."

Ivan still smiles, always smiling. "Why not? He is my friend."

The other is always smiling too. "Well sure but he's my friend too. He's also Feliks's friend. And Eduard's. And Ravis's."

"I see…"

"No." Alfred gets up from the desk he's been sitting on, slowly, confidently, sure. "No you don't."

Toris is visibly shaking now and puts a hand on Alfred's arm. "Alfred…"

"Don't worry I got this." The boy reassures the other before turning back to Ivan.

"You see Ivan, Toris doesn't want to be your friend anymore." he explains with a careless shrug. "Actually no one does really. Why would anyone want to be friends with a sick fuck who beats up his friends? Toris isn't the only "friend" you've hurt am I right? I got Ravis to back me up on that one."

The odd feeling in his chest is coming back, the one he gets when he dwells on sister too long. This isn't good, not good, not at all, but he must keep smiling. Sister never liked to see him sad. So he smiled and ate all the food on his plate while she starved. Smiled when all the kids threw rocks at him only to have his fist smash into their guts. Smiled when sister lay on the hospital bed, dying and begged him, "Smile for sister one last time please? I love you." Yes he would smile, always smile, smile…

"Why do you hurt me so?" he asks Toris, asks Alfred, asks this school, the whole world and suddenly Alfred isn't smiling anymore.

"Just get the hell out of here Ivan."

But Ivan still smiles. Even when he lunges to break Alfred's face in half.

"Damn it why do I have to deal with this?"

"Because you are the principle, non?"

"Shut up you bloody frog, you're not making this any easier."

"If my job were to make things easier for you I wouldn't be vice principle."

"Just shut up! You're giving me a migraine."

"You just need to relax mon copain. Here let me help you…"

"Touch me and I swear Francis I'll-!"

The bickering in the next room amuses him. It sounds like they're having fun. Ivan gently leans his head against the wall and a small hope begins bubble in him. Maybe they'll forget him amidst their heated conversation, then he can go home, then he can pretend this never happened and…

The office door opens with a bang and the principle, a short tempered man with blond hair and large eyebrows fixes the collar of his shirt.

"Ivan Braginski?"

"Yes?"

The man who had been glaring at his vice principle in the office is now glaring at him, looking every bit weary.

Yes, even the principle gives him looks.

"Come on. I don't have all day." He mutters as he turns around, back into his domain. Ivan follows certain that he will be suspended. After all this is not the first time he has gone into this office. It is almost familiar territory for him. But at least smug Alfred got to visit it too. He is sure the boy will get his just punishment for stealing away his friend. It's only fair.

But as he is handed out his punishment (with the vice principle chuckling out of sympathy in his own flashy sort of way) he learns that Alfred is declared innocent and that he will be coming to school tomorrow with a few bruises but fine as ever. Ivan's eyes bore holes into his principle.

"And why is that?" he demands to know. The principle growls.

"Don't take that tone with me. What I decide is final. Alfred was only trying to stand up for Toris and you hit first. It's obvious your ass should be the one he gets the punishment."

"Language Arthur, language."

"When I say shut up, shut up! He's a grown boy and he's gotten into trouble God knows how many times, he can handle it."

No. This isn't fair. Not at all. He didn't do anything bad. Never had. So then why? Is it because compared to Alfred, warm, bright, beautiful Alfred, he the large boy who will forever be seen as cold and unlovable will always remain so?

"He stole Toris from me."

"Nonsense." His principle shoves his suspension slip into his hands. "You never had Toris to begin with."

He goes home to an empty apartment, where the paint peels off the walls like madden entrails and the damp spot on the ceiling leaks more so than his faucet. When he opens the fridge there is nothing but a stale loaf of bread that he has barely touched. And there in no singing from sister to fill the place with a thing he forgot was called love. Only silence.

He wants to smile, to do his homework, walk around the city as he usually does but today was…tiring. Today he will slip up because his heart is so heavy. It hurts. He can't escape it.

Today he falls asleep.

And then he wakes up in a warm bed.

But it's not really his bed.

At least he believes so despite what she says…

Oh no…no, no, no.

He's here.

Quickly he gets up from the bed and opens the door. He needs to find an exit. He needs to find it now. He can't stay here. He mustn't. It's too dangerous. She's too dangerous.

But he keeps opening door after door after door and they all simply lead to another room, each one simply more pleasant than the last.

But it's not really all that pleasant.

Finally he finds a purple door. He is sure it was a purple door that led to his escape last time but he is not so sure. But he must try, try to get out. So he opens it…

…Only to find the nightmare itself.

There she is, right there, right here in this kitchen, with a knife in hand cutting freshly baked bread.

She turns around and smiles sweetly, just as sweet as the bow that sits upon her head.

"Hello brother."

"Please leave." He lets out before he can even think clearly. The young and oh so pretty woman whose long light hair shimmers like the water's surface merely laughs.

"Brother you are tired. Come sit down and eat. Sister made Black Bread. Just the way you like it."

His eyes dart about the room, still looking as pleasant as ever. But it's not. No. He needs to leave. She needs to leave.

"Let me go."

"Why would I do that brother? I love you don't I?"

"You're not my sister."

The smile that was so stunning before is beginning to falter. It always does eventually. "Of course I am. That's why I make such sweets for you; let you stay in such a wonderful house with no exits. You like it here with me right brother?"

The voice that was seemingly calm at first begins to rise. It always does. Ivan backs toward the door but she's still talking.

"Brother you love me don't you? Yes I know you do because you no matter how many times you run you always come back. Always and always and always. I'll never let you go brother. Sister is here! I'll always be here! So stay. Stay."

He turns to turn the knob of the door that was open just a moment ago. But it won't budge, won't open. Never does.

"You're not hungry I see. That is okay. Come to bed with sister."

"No."

"Yes. You're still so tired from that horrible world out there. Those horrible, wretched, disgusting people that hurt brother all the time, they make you sick don't they? They never give you the love you deserve!"

The tears are beginning to come. No he mustn't cry, mustn't let his real sister, his true beautiful sister down. Not in front of this one. No he mustn't…

"Go away…"

"Don't worry. Sister will get them for you if you let her, let her take control. All you need to do is sleep with her then she will handle them. Come brother."

"Stop it." But her hands are already around his waist and the door, the door isn't budging.

"Sister will take care of you." She hugs him close. "So come. Let's sleep together. You'll feel better afterward."

"Stop it! Stop it!"

"I love you."

He's sobbing now. He can't push her away. She's too strong for some reason. Always, always, always…

Suddenly she roughly turns him around, her violet eyes passionate.

"Why don't you ever smile for me?"

Luckily the question shocks him dumb. It's just what he needs to hear.

He wakes up.

But it's useless. Because no matter how many times he tries to escape, she is right, he always comes back.

It's odd. His friend has been a happy drunk as of late. The last time he was so solemn and quiet was when his ex girlfriend sent him a wedding invitation. Francis leans over and whispers as to no upset him (see he can be nice when he wants to).

"Mon ami what is wrong?"

Arthur sniffs. "Nothin'."

"You can't lie to me." Francis laughs a bit as he earns himself a glare from the smaller man. "After all we've been through together there is nothing you can hide. So tell me what's wrong. Big brother Francis will help."

"Shut up with that big brother rubbish. It's taxing."

"So you'll tell me?"

Arthur Kirkland, the principle who is known to blow up at students for even throwing paper on the floor, is quiet. Francis is about to pinch his behind just to see if he can get him out of his stupor when he speaks.

"Maybe I shouldn't have been so hard." Francis smiles satisfied that his friend is talking again, and takes a sip of his wine. "You mean Braginski?"

"I just can't help it though." Arthur hisses as he takes a drought of his own glass of ale. "Every time I see him I just get this horrible sensation and then I can't help but spit at him."

"Mon cher you do that with everyone."

"No, it's different with this one." The man's green eyes become misty. "I mean I know he's pretty much an orphan and all but I just feel so clammed up when I look at him. Like there's something sinister lurking within him."

"Are you going on about those delusional fantasies of yours?" Francis shakes his head. "When will you grow out of it? Such creatures such as unicorns, fairies and ogres don't exist. You run a school for goodness sake; you're too old for that."

"They do exist." Arthur shoots back stubbornly eyelids dropping a bit because of the alcohol. "I know they do. You just can't see them, that's all."

"Sure."

"Shut up."

"So is Braginski some sort of evil from the very depths of hell itself?"

"No, that's not quite it. I can't put my finger on it…"

Francis looks into the overhanging light above him. The bar they frequent at is cozy as it is classy, just the way they like it. They had been together since middle school so it wasn't much of a surprise when he learned he would be working under Arthur. It was fate really. But that was a far a Francis would ever delude himself with when it came to spiritual things like this. Fate. Fate that they were still together.

But if he thought of it that way maybe there was some truth to the mythical stories Arthur told him. Maybe surrounding Ivan was something sinister. You never knew.

But that would mean Arthur was right and he was wrong. And he would never admit to that. But he could humor him.

"Maybe he's possessed. By a succubus." Francis laughs at his own stupid joke and finishes off his glass before continuing. "I wouldn't mind having one on those in my dreams."

But the tease that was supposed to be met with the usual witty comeback is instead greeted with a muted horror (and perhaps…a hint of guilt) that takes hold of Arthur's face.

Hey look, is that a hint of FruK I spy?

And after writing this I find that a lonely Russia is one of the most depressing things ever.

In all seriousness, if you liked it, hated it, or even made you raise an eyebrow please review and give some feedback. They help writers like us a lot you know.