"Royssia, da!" The small platinum blonde laughed his name, running through the newly fallen snow. He was finally a nation, his own government and all. His scarf fluttered behind him as he ran down the small hills.

The child came across a large hill, covered in the fresh fallen snow. A small mound protruded, sparking the newly formed nation's curiosity. He brushed away the snow, yellow illuminating the white blanket. Russia beamed as he pulled on the stem of the brightly coloured plant, but to no avail did it come free of the frozen ground. "Podsolnechnik! I vant." He sat down in the snow, staring at the sunflower. "Vy not be friend, podsolnechnik..." The tiny nation pouted, his round cheeks in his hands.

"Royssia? Vat is wrong?" Russia stood up and turned, his boss walking towards him. The boy pointed at the sunflower, lips pursed together.

"Boss, podsolnechnik von't be friend." The man took a knife from his belt, cutting the stem of the flower. He patted Russia's head, giving him the golden flower.

"Royssia. Not everyone vill be your comrade, vill understand some day." The blonde seemed rather puzzled, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, face puffed.

"Vy not be comrade? I am great friend, da! I vill be friend viff everyone!" The small child nodded his head as if to confirm his words true, his boss sighing and getting down on the level of the nation.

"Yes you are good friend, Royssia. Viff ozher nations is different though."

"But, vy? Vy can't vi be friend?"

"I'm not sure Royssia. I'm sure you get many comrades though."

"Sir," He asked timidly as the man put the knife back into his belt. "You used knives to make friend. Vy did you not pick?"

"Sometimes friend need persuasion Royssia. Be zis flower and I'm sure you vill make many friend." The boss smiled at him, patting his head and grabbing his hand gently, guiding him through the snow. "Royssia."

"Da?"

"Everyone need podsolnechnik in life, some people just vant different vons zhen others. You can be that podsolnechnik if you vill try hard, khorosho?"

"Da, nachal'nik. I vill make many friend! You vill see." His boss laughed and squeezed his hand as they made way back to the house for warm drinks.

"Alright, Royssia. I vill believe you. Alvays be best podsolnechnik you can."

...

Just a little thing I though of while listening to "Winter" on my way home today.

I decided that other then the sunflower hill, there should be a reason that Russia should love the plant. It stands strong and bright, yet it's a flower that everyone enjoys. I feel like it suits child Russia more then the idea of insanity right of the bat.

Russia develops insanity over time. As well as his need for love and friendship in the cold northern country. I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot. I'm thinking of doing more like these for the other countries as well.

Translations

Podsolnechnik- Sunflower

Da- Yes

Royssia- Russia

Nachal'nik- Boss

I used the letter versions of the names because otherwise it's plain confusing!