Disclaimer: I hold no rights to Russia, Ukraine, or Belarus, all of whom belong to Hidekaz. I do, however, claim ownership of Illya and Petya.

The Sunflower Circle

"Once upon a time, a long time ago, there was this super krasivyy girl who lived in a giant castle on the moon. All the space army guys thought she was amazing, but she couldn't marry any of them because she was stuck in this castle made of...of, um...moon bricks. You can't break those.

"Her mean old dedushka kept her in there, 'cos he wanted to keep her safe and pretty forever, and weird stuff like that. So the space guys were really sad, 'cos they wanted to marry the hot moon princess. Her name was Feodora."

"So one day, Feodora the Moon princess was very bored because she'd already played all the games in the moon castle, and the space soldiers had already visited her at her window. She wanted to make something pretty for herself, like a new pair of earrings or something else girly like that.

"So, she leaned WAAAAYYY far out of her window and didn't even tie herself down or anything. She was reaching real far for some really dovol'no stars that were hanging in the sky, and she knew they'd be perfect for her girly thing she was making.

"Well, she reached TOO far and wush fell outta the window, and right off the moon, and pshkkk onto the world. It hurt."

Suddenly the door to the young narrator's room crashed open, and there stood his big brother Petya, smirking over his crossed arms. "Haha, Ilya, playing with your precious dolls again?"

The young boy on the floor was surrounded by army men, cosmonauts, and even a little Cossack soldier and horse that had been Petya's when he was little. As the older boy entered the room, Ilya frantically shoved the soft cloth doll in his hands under his bed so 'big mean Petya' wouldn't see. "They're not dolls! They're...guys!"

Petya brushed his dark brown hair out of his equally dark eyes. "Ilya...you're 11 years old! Don't you think it's time for you to stop making up weird stories and playing with dolls?" He held up a hand as his little brother's mouth opened to angrily object. "Whatever you call them, I think it's time to let go. You should go out and run around with other guys your age, da?"

Ilya shrugged, staring uncertainly at the odd assortment of toys around him.

Petya grinned. "That new boy at your school—Ivan?—seems cool. Go hang out with him!"

On the floor, Ilya hesitated, thinking. He turned the Cossack soldier around in his fingers before shrugging a little. "I think I remember where his house is..."

Petya stood and smiled, bending to ruffle his little brother's light brown hair. "Da! Just think about it, Ilyushenka." He smiled once more and left, clicking the door shut softly.

That night as he lay in bed, Ilya tried to work up the bravery he would need to go introduce himself to the Braginski boy. He tried thinking like Petya, but it didn't work because Petya was too old. '17 year old men do not play with 11 year old boys,' said a very proud voice in his head.

Maybe he could keep Her in his pocket for luck and courage? Ilya held the cloth doll up to the moonlight that spilled over his bed, admiring her curly twine hair and lovely cream linen dress. He could see that whoever had owned her before had taken great care in each colour chosen for the beautiful embroidery; much pride in each dainty stitch of her mouth and eyes.

Taking her in his arms, the young boy knew in his heart he could never give her up, no matter what Petya said.

Ilya began to cry quietly into the doll's soft body.

The next day, around noon, Petya found his little brother in the kitchen, wolfing down a ham-on-rye at the table. A little knapsack sat in the chair beside him, balancing a care-worn grey cap on the top.

Petya grinned and sat down in a creaking chair across from him. "So. What is your battle plan, comrade?"

Ilya rolled his emerald eyes at his older sibling's silly demeanor. "I'm going to walk to his house, ring the bell-"

"What if there isn't a doorbell, hm?" Petya smirked, obviously having fun irritating the 11-year-old before him.

"Then I'll knock on the door!" Ilya huffed. "And we'll play together...da?" After relating his plans, he suddenly felt a bit nervous.

"Da." His brother said, standing up to take the empty plate back to the sink. "Don't forget your backpack!" he called from the kitchen.

"I won't…" Ilya muttered, opening the front door and hopping out into the spring sunshine. The last thing he heard before the big door slammed shut was, "Good luck, Ilyushenka!"

As little Ilya walked down the road in the bright sunshine, he felt a bit guilty for swindling his brother. 'Nyet...' he thought, kicking a rock, 'Not really swindled...more like fooled. I think.' Even so, his thoughts could not dispel the sense of guilt niggling along in his stomach. If Petya found out, he'd most likely scold his brother harshly; Ilya carried his doll in the small knapsack that bounced on his back to the beat of his footsteps.

As he thought of her, his heart felt a bit lighter. She'd be there for him if this went wrong.

And all of a sudden, he was at Ivan's doorstep. Ilya took a deep breath and rang the bell; thankfully there was one.

His heartbeat quickened and stopped for a miniscule moment as the footsteps he heard halted at the door. The person must've paused to peer through the peephole before opening the big blue door. To Ilya's surprise, it was a girl who looked a little younger than Petya with silvery hair and a sweet—if not a bit sappy—smile.

"Pryvit! Can I help you?"

Ilya gulped, trying to find his tongue. "Privet...I'm Ilya Leisiwiecz...i-is this I-Ivan Braginski's home? I'm in his class a-at school..." He felt immediately silly as he heard his shaky words, and even worse when the girl nodded cheerfully.

"Da! Come in! He is in the backyard." She moved aside so he could enter, and began leading him through the average-sized house. Apparently, sunflowers were a family favourite.

Ilya belatedly remembered his manners when he saw a portrait of a stern man on the wall, and stuck forth his hand to shake the young woman's as they paused at the back door. This cute action caused the girl to giggle, and she took his hand. "I'm Ivan's older sister. My name is Yekaterina, but you will call me Katyusha, da?"

The young boy blushed at being so easily accepted, and nodded. Yekaterina—ahem, Katyusha—smiled and opened the door. "He'll be out there!"

Ilya smiled back nervously and stepped out, clutching the straps of his knapsack. "Spasibo."

The back garden was very large and very beautiful, seeing as spring had sprung quite well that year and all the flowers were in bloom. Right away, Ilya noticed that the yard was very empty of people. Then he glanced at a large clump of tall sunflowers, tightly packed together near a bed of vegetables in front of a wall covered with honeysuckle.

It was the perfect spot for hide-and-seek and somewhere he would personally take refuge from Petya in, so Ilya's first thought was to look there. The space was a ways from the back door, so it took him a few minutes to reach it, and he almost stepped on a little brown toad along the way.

The bright yellow flowers soared high over his head as he parted the long stalks, peering in what was actually a small area enclosed by the plants. Lying in the middle of them on a patch of grass was a silver haired boy, holding a soldier figure, fast asleep.

"Um, what are you doing?" Ilya asked bluntly, definitely more relaxed around the boy than his older sister. "Are you really asleep in there?" he added quizzically as Ivan stirred slightly. Ilya removed his knapsack and parted the sunflower stalks a little more to allow himself passage.

Sitting up in a bewildered sort of way, Ivan Braginski stared at the boy who was promptly settling down on the patch of grass in front of him, taking off his knapsack and stowing it beside his leg. The brunette looked very familiar to Ivan, but from where did he know him?

"You are from my school, da?" he said, tentatively reaching for the first place that seemed plausible.

Ilya smiled brightly, "Da! You remembered! I'm Ilya. Were you really asleep in here?" His repeated question was soft as he looked around in awe.

"Da, I was. And I'm Ivan."

"I know." The other replied cheerfully.

And so began their fast friendship. The pair of boys played among the sunflowers with some tin army men of Ivan's and other figures Ilya had been smart to bring along, occasionally tumbling each other out of the plant circle in a mock battle. After a few hours in the bright sunshine and heavenly air, Ilya really had to use the restroom.

"Um Ivan? Where is the washroom?"

Ivan smiled creepily, "In the house, of course." Ilya laughed and nestled one of his men in the leaves near his shoulder, waiting for his violet-eyed friend to continue. "It is on the second floor, down the hall, and it is on the left. You will be able to find it, da?" he asked with a smile.

Ilya nodded, stood to part the sunflowers, raced across the yard, and hopped up the back steps and into the house. He passed the picture of the glaring man easily, and met no one on the first floor, but he nearly fell off the stairs in the interior of the house, because of the scaring he received.

A young girl—younger than him even, maybe 7 or 8—was peering around the corner at the top, her lavender eyes glinting. "Marry me-Marry me-Marry me!" she hissed down at him.

"Ack!" Ilya cried, fumbling his footing and grasping the splintery banister for dear life. "Nyet! I don't even know you! I just need to find the washroom!"

Suddenly the girl became fully visible, frowning. "You are not Big Brother Ivan." She looked him over with creepily stern eyes before pointing gruffly over her shoulder. "The bathroom is that way, neudachnik."

Ilya grimaced and nodded scooting down the hallway slowly past her. "Spasibo…"

The girl huffed wordlessly and with a flounce of her deep purple dress, stomped downstairs.

"Ivan! There is a scary little girl in your house! She wants to marry you and called me a neudachnik! Do you—Hey!"

Upon parting the plant wall, he discovered Ivan sitting in front of Ilya's brown knapsack, holding his Doll and smiling absently down at her. He had wrapped a curl of her hair around his finger.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Ilya shouted, shakily snatching his precious possession from the taller boy.

Ivan turned slowly towards him and smiled sweetly, a creepy dark lavender aura surrounding him. "You carry a doll with you, da?"

Ilya immediately turned bright red and clutched Her to his chest. "D-Da...don't make fun of me. I know it's foolish, but it doesn't matter.

To his ultimate surprise, his silver haired companion smiled wider, only more sincerely. "I like dolls. She is very dovol'no. Very pretty."

Ilya gaped at him. "You...you don't think it's silly?" the brunette asked him, completely bewildered.

Ivan shook his head cheerfully with a squinty smile. "Nyet, I do not think so. She makes you happy, da?"

Ilya nodded slowly, still holding Her tightly. A light breeze wafted the scent of honeysuckle into the sunflower circle.

"Then it is okay!" The violet eyed boy smilingly plucked at the greyish scarf wound around his neck. "Big sister Katyusha made this for me. It makes me happy, so I am wearing it always."

Ilya sat down, cradling his doll. The warm expression on her white face greatly cheered him up, and he nodded absently in Ivan's direction. "Da...she makes me happy." Suddenly he switched subjects like the absent-minded young boy he was. "Oh! Your sister was really nice! She answered the door for me."

Ivan took this change in stride (he was only 12 himself) and grinned. "Da, but she is also very weird. So weird. So weird..." He hung his head slightly as Ilya shivered at the memory of the very scary little girl at the top of the stairs.

"Who was the other girl? She looked as though she would have liked to push me off the stairs..." He trailed off, rooting about in his knapsack for another cosmonaut soldier for his space army; the last general had fallen off the Sputnik probe and into the Sun.

Ivan's amethyst orbs glittered with a mixture of fear and amusement that only he could pull off. "Oh, you must have met little sister Natalya. She is terrifying, da?"

"She's your sister too?" Ilya laughed at the creepy smile Ivan donned, nodding in agreement. "Da! I was so scared."

Ivan retained his grin and began rearranging his soldiers into a different formation. "She is also very much losing her mind. Katyusha and I are thinking she will be locked up when she is getting older."

The brunette boy let loose another hoot of laughter, dropping one of his men. "Petya—my starshiy brat—should be put in with her. He's weird too…"

Both boys were lost for a moment, indulging in the fact that their siblings ought to be chained up, before getting back to their playing.

"Ivan! Ilya! Time to come in!" Yekaterina called from the upstairs window as the sun began to set. At the front door, she crushed Ilya in a friendly hug just as Ivan had done a few seconds earlier, before wishing the young boy to be safe on the way home.

"You will being coming back tomorrow, da?" Ivan shouted as the other boy made it across the front lawn and to the dusty street.

"Da! Of course!

Ilya slowly twirled in his hands the small packet of sunflower seeds the violet-eyed boy had given him as he walked. It felt really nice to have a friend who accepted him and his slight weirdness, and Ilya unknowingly smiled to himself as Ivan, his scarf, and the ring of sunflowers surfaced in his mind. He was in a very positive mood when he finally hopped up the few steps on his front porch, through the red front door of his house, and kicked off his boots in the entryway.

Petya immediately sidled into sight, leaning on the back of a chair in the kitchen as Ilya hung up his hat. "So! How did it go?"

Turning to him with a slight smile, Ilya cradled the seeds in his small hand. "Well. I think we'll be very good friends. He's a little strange, but..." he looked up at his confused brother with a bright grin.

"He makes me happy."

A/N: Even though this is my first time writing for Russia and his sisters, I'm quite proud of this piece! A note on Petya's name: Petya is the diminuitive form of Pyotr, his real first name, which he shares with his father. To avoid confusion, he is referred to as Petya. I do apologize if Russia was OOC, as I've said I have never written for him before. Please read, review, and enjoy!

Translations (taken from Google Translate): Krasvyy - Beautiful.
Dedushka - Grandpa.
Dovol'no - Pretty.
Cossack - a Russian/Ruthenian people that became guards along the borders of Russia, were an important part of the Russian army, and were noted for their horsemanship.
Ilyushenka and Katyusha - nicknames.
Da/Nyet - yes/no.
Pryvit - Ukrainian for 'hello'
Privet - Russian for 'hello'
Spasibo - Thank you
Neudachnik - Loser
Starshiy brat - Older Brother

C.D.M.