Part 1 – Chapter 1: Ivan

Ivan could not see green anymore. The flowers didn't sprout from the innumerous gardens scattered around the campus, and most of the trees were already naked without their beautiful blankets of leaves. Instead of all the colors he had gotten used to after months living in that school, now he could mostly see the whitest snow covering every little thing. From his window he scanned the once stunning view being replaced by an infertile landscape. The Russian hated winter, even though it had been his only friend through his entire life. It reminded him he was alone.

He had been standing there for a couple of hours now; it was Christmas Eve and most of the students were celebrating the day at their houses with warm families that didn't match his own. In the end, the word warm didn't exist in Ivan's reality. Cold was a lifetime companion – once you had it, you could never hand it over, even if you were willing to.

"Were you listening, Mr. Braginski?" asked the nurse. She was beautiful and quite entertaining for a woman as young as she was, but if he couldn't even remember her name, then nothing much about her mattered for him. "You must pay more attention to your health. It's the third time this month one of your teachers tells me you haven't been acting normally. They say you aren't even eating properly."

Ivan smiled brightly. "I will be careful."

"You promise?" She sounded truly concerned.

"Yes, with my life." That was another lie, of course, but he didn't care. Most of his façade was completely made up. Sometimes it was extremely difficult even for him to tell who he really was.

Ivan wrapped the scarf around his neck and was preparing to leave the infirmary when the nurse called again. He had to cover his annoyance before turning back.

"Don't forget to take the pills I prescribed for you. They will make you feel better and help with your anemia."

"Roger." And then he was gone.

The cafeteria was almost empty, except for some students from the Asian and Anglo-Saxon dorms. He recognized Alfred F. Jones, Arthur Kirkland and Francis Bonnefoy among the westerners; but because he wasn't very familiar to the Orientals, no name appeared in his mind. Except for Wang Yao. This one would never be forgotten by him in Ivan's entire life.

"Matt said you were sick. Again," the silver-haired boy said. He was sat next to Alfred and had a strange look on his face, as if something was completely wrong. Ivan recognized him as Gilbert Beilschmidt from his Western History class.

The only girl within the group gave Ivan a cheerful smile from behind Roderich Edelstein, the new Austrian student. She was a brunette and had big green eyes –not his type at all, though– so he let his attention return to the other table a few meters from where he was standing. The only Chinese there was talking to a noisy guy.

"They are quite something, the Asians, I mean," the girl said, never bothered by the tense air that rose suddenly. Surely she wasn't aware of the gossips. "I'm Elizaveta Héderváry, and the one you are now staring is Im Yong Soo, the Korean newbie."

Gilbert giggled.

"Elizaveta's writing for the school newspaper. She knows most of the things going on. It's kinda scary."

Im Yong Soo. Ivan had heard about him. And he didn't like it.

"Er, Ellie, he's Ivan Braginski," Alfred finally said. Everybody was sinking in their chairs now, trying to hide from the Russian's sight. Even Gilbert.

"You're the one? I mean, that Braginski?" Ivan could see her head working on something; maybe a new article or data for her precious archive. She seemed too anxious – or rather fussy about his very being.

He just bothered to raise one of his eyebrows.

"Ellie, it's better if you just shut–" Arthur began to say, but was shut by a loud laugh from the Asian table. It was Yao's.

Ivan couldn't take anymore. He wanted to stay away, but not being able to… Just forget about it, he told himself. Now, the only thing his body needed was disappearing from that stupid place. Fortunately, that could be arranged.


Notes: It's my first time writing in English, so please, be patient. I tried my best, but if you caught any typos or something like that, you can tell me and I'll gladly correct right away. I was inspired by Yao's birthday and the fact that I love Russian History (and Ivan as well). I don't want to spoil my own fic, but I'm using the Sino–Soviet split as a background, even though this is Gakuen Hetalia (and I'm creating my own Gakuen Hetalia). Sorry for the little chapter, but it's from Ivan's POV and I wasn't sure if I should write too much.

Ah, if you want to know, I'm Brazilian (I know, that doesn't matter), and English isn't my first language. I didn't want to write this in Portuguese, then I tried something new. I hope I deserve your review (: