Death, dear Death, my precious friend, what happened during all my life? The years had passed quickly, pushing around, punishing, laughing, shadows of time. The wind fondled his pale face, snow flakes danced around him in the cold air showing hardly some life, some warmth, something he could hold tightly in order to catch the will for walking forward again.
Ivan felt lost, left alone by everyone else. The angel of death was the only one who had always followed Russia, leading, whispering with vulpine tongues, telling sweet toxic words, intending to take him and fly away. He always wanted to spread his wings and accompany him into the dark eternity which was his empire. What had his price been? What had it costed all the time to reign threatening and killing?
He had lost many friends, he was alone in a confusing forest, everything looked the same, everywhere had lain a thick sheet of snow, untouched and soft, but covered with blood, with dead bodies; the innocence had gone away an long unknown time before. He breathed the cold air, it hurt, cut his lungs, tortured him all the time however he didn't notice any more, pain was a feeling he had chased away. What was still in his soul...? A dark depth not filled with any emotions, not a single melody of life could be heard, he felt like being lonely. Had he ever wanted to end like this? To stand at the edge of a roof in the middle of Moscow, his loved capital?
He had never chosen to find his desire on top of the Russian roofs amidst the white snow flakes. Ivan was isolated nothing could be heard any more, the snowfall... the noise of chasing cars, the humans' voices, the life of the whole world seemed to stop, to be seen in slow motion or from a far away cloud in heaven. From a star presenting that he had already reached his purposes, everything he was told to get in life by his father.
All sounds were swallowed by the gentle snowfall, by the glittering angels of crystal laughing tempting. His leg couldn't be felt, it was frozen, nothing could be sensed, was he able to move? To take a little step which would be the last one he would do in his whole condemned life? The Russian would fall , would see his hated, sad life, the dark flower withered and cut into pieces, nobody would miss him except Nataschenka and Svetotschka, they would loose the view of stars, they would become darker and darker till the flashing light would cease to exist. A world in eclipse, filled with fog and dirt, dampened by sorrows and sadness.
Would Wang miss him? Would he cry, would he scream, would he suffer from possible ache? Would the pain devour him till he would follow him towards the horizon having crossed the sea before? Of course he wouldn't, he was sure. The horses were running away they ,walked through the sky's white tears and finally disappeared, the close neared slowly, but absolutely – he knew it without thinking about it for a little second. He saw a white light falling from heaven, something flashing, striking, something strange.
Hope or the end? An angel or just a word from God that he should follow?
"Ivan?", a not really manly, Chinese voice echoed through the silence surrounding him. Yao. The only one who totally understood him, his actions, his whole being, personality.
A faint smile played around his lips, secretly, unseen; he hadn't turned around in order to face the smaller one having focussed his broad back of Ivan, Yao wasn't able to see his facial expressions, to read his feelings well hidden behind a mask, hidden in his eyes. Actually he didn't want to look at the small, bright face, he didn't want to be convinced by the hazel eyes bursting with strength, with lust for life. The Russian intended to leave this world forever, he wasn't happy any more, the Russian people did suffer, did scream for help, were angry and desperate; the country Russia would have never thought that he'd try to commit suicide one day, that he'd couldn't bear it any more one day. Day by day he hadn't believed that this could ever happen.
"Yes, Yao?", he replied calmly, but didn't change his position, still watching the free air in front of him.
"What are you doing here? It's cold, you'll catch a cold and become sick if you continue doing this", he started talking again and sounded sorrowful. What a cute accent, he was worried about him, as he always was. A throaty laughter of himself could be heard.
"Yao... Wang Yao, you should know me better than this. I don't mind the coldness, General Winter supports me and has always educated me, I'm Russia and snow's my true companion, you know?"
It seemed funny to him, he was used to the cold, whenever he had went to Germany or Poland, wherever, he had sensed a warm wind no matter which temperature had ruled the countries and their nature.
"Yes... yes, I forgot, I'm sorry, I was confused because... what are you doing here on the roof? What are you doing at its edge? It is dangerous and you could fall – you want to kill yourself?" The blonde turned around smiling a bit, scrutinized the slender, slim man, searched with his violet mirrors of soul for the Chinese man's eye. He was willing to show him all of his pain, his desire, his will to die.
" You've been knowing since we are lovers, since we got to know each other. Don't tell me that I'm wrong, you'd lie. It's the damn fucking truth, Solnitschka", the taller one explained to his boyfriend silently and put the pink scarf off, the only memory he has always worn in order to be protected, to remember his loved older sister.
"D-Don't call me like that, I'm not a girl... I still am a man..." He blushed slightly and looked away, embarrassed, but just for a moment.
"This is for you, my little sunflower, da? You know, I love you more than anything else, мне с тобо́й му́ка, but I gotta go... Take this... you'll always remember me wherever you'll land." The soft white hands grabbed his big ones just like whether they'd like to hold him back, not to let him go to hell alone. A little kiss, desperate and mellow, to say farewell.
" 我爱你. I won't let you go. Not alone, you won't go to hell if I'm with you, I'll follow you." This was the sentence he had never expected him to say, not even him. Astonishment flew through his body, filled it not leaving out a single rest, not even a spark of sadness, no, it was rather... positive – in a specific way of course. Did he... really say this?
"You're...crazy, China. What about your siblings? They need you, don't they?"
"They don't need me, they're old enough to care for themselves, they have left me, not I them. To go home is often more difficult than to leave. I'm not the one I used to be."
"Do you really think so?"
"The past is clear like bright water, the future dark like black paint. I've made mistakes in the past and you know it. It's a dark future, my past is shiny and golden, but this is gone..."
" You mean... No, this is insane they still love you, everybody loving you needs...", Ivan stopped suddenly, he had just realised that Yao wanted to convince him of staying of living and climb again till he would reach the top of the mountain, however it would never function again.
"You've always told me that "the human is nothing different from a candle in wind", this is true, we had our time on earth, we actually are humans, just a bit different, but we will have to die no matter what we'll do in life, our golden ages are gone." Silence hugged them, kissed their lips and talked soundlessly to the noise and snowflakes. The two men have fought each other, words had been their weapons, no guns, swords or cullets any more, just words of glass. Russia knew that Yao wanted him to stay, normally he would have done so though he was not in the position of helping healing his soul like that.
"Come with me. We'll jump together."
"What...?"
"If and whether I die...I will decide and I just want to pass away alongside you", Yao stated ou of sudden and took the Russian hand in a thick glove and pulled him to the border of the roof. No words are needed, they just heard each other breathing, looked into each other eyes, their souls and left the top, sailed through the air downward to the ground, neared the chasing cars. The last thing they saw were their hands touching, holding each other tightly within snowflakes dancing.
