(Yuuka © ZUN
Russia/Ivan © Hidekaz Himaruya)
Red Sunflower of Mugenkan
Chapter One
He thought that if he went for a walk, he could see the first signs of spring buried somewhere amidst the snow.
No such luck for Ivan, however; the more he walks, the more he sees the cold white sheet of winter still covering the land.
He frowns a little, rubbing his hands together. Even with his thick gloves on, he feels the cold stealing the warmth from his very fingers. Even out of wartimes General Winter had always been cruel, but this seems a bit absurd, even to Ivan. For a moment, he is tempted to curse the cold, but remembers what happened the last time he did that; 1807 was not a fond memory in his mind.
A sharp blast of wind cuts through his coat, chilling him to the core. There is no spring here; it may be March, but Russia — the nation — is still under siege from the snow.
With a heavy sigh, Ivan turns around. The falling snow has covered his tracks, but he knows the way back home.
Скоро наступит весна, he tells himself, walking back home. А за ней и лето…
He lets a small smile creep onto his face—
"Oof!"
Something heavy crashes into Ivan from above, knocking him face-first into the snow.
"Ой!" he curses, feeling the weight of something resting on his back and pinning him down. "Что, черт возьми? Отвали от меня—"
"Ow…"
Ivan feels the weight slide off his back.
"Oh… Kore ga kotonatte iru," a female voice murmurs in Japanese. "Koko wa doko…?"
The Russian sits up, turning to look at his "attacker."
"Что за ...?"
"Are you sure you are not cold?"
Upon learning that they share English as a common language communication between them became that much easier.
"I'm fine, thank you. I can… tolerate the cold."
Ivan shrugs his shoulders, turning his gaze back forward.
The short, green-haired woman walking beside him still has her flowery umbrella resting over her shoulder.
"You are stronger than I am, then," the man finally admits, reaching up to pull the scarf so that it covers more of his face — anything to keep the cold away will help. "This is my home, and even I cannot stand this cold for very long. But you fall out of the sky like snow, dressed in clothes for summer, and you say that you are fine. You amaze me, чужеземец."
The woman bristles slightly, ignoring the sharp wind as her eyes flash momentarily.
"That word… what does it mean?" she asks, smiling lightly.
"Mm? Oh, you do not know Russian? It is…"
Ivan has to think for a moment before the English word comes back to him.
"Stranger. Da, that's it. Not from here. You are not from here, are you?"
His companion's smile grows wistful; she uses her left hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
"No, I'm not. My home is… very far from here," she admits, closing her red eyes for a moment. "I'm… not entirely sure how I was removed from it, but I know that there is no going back for me. Not that it's even possible."
She twirls her umbrella, shaking the snow that has gathered on it off.
"It's probably better for me this way, anyways," the woman continues, opening her eyes again and looking up at Ivan. "It was nice being respected, but it was a respect born from fear. Nobody would talk to me because of the rumors. It was very… lonely, I guess you would call it."
The tall nation fixes his gaze straight ahead.
Something cold settles in his heart.
"Я знаю, что вы имеете в виду. That feeling… I know it very well, too," he mutters, shivering not from the chill of the wind but from the harshness of his memories. "Being avoided and feared…"
Silence falls between them as they continue walking through the snow.
"How far until we arrive at this home of yours?" the woman finally asks, brushing off the snow that rests on her exposed hands.
"It is not much farther," Ivan replies, looking down at the woman again. "You are sure you're not cold?"
"Yes," the woman answers, an underlying current of frustration that sends a slight chill down his spine.
"Мне жаль. I did not mean to offend you," he apologizes, suddenly feeling like he often does around Belarus.
"…no, it is not your fault," the woman shakes her head, sighing, her voice no longer sharp. "I'm sorry. I can tolerate the cold, but it makes me very… tired. I am not at my best when I'm tired. When we arrive, I would like to sleep, if that's fine."
"Nyet, I do not mind. I do not often have guests, but you are welcome to stay as long as you wish, Мисс…"
After struggling to recall it, Ivan realizes that he never asked the woman her name.
"I do not believe I got your name," he says, a slightly apologetic tone to his words.
"Ah, yes. I didn't introduce myself after I fell on you, did I?" the green-haired woman laughs lightly. "My name is Yuuka. Yuuka Kazami."
"Yuuka," Ivan repeats, trying to burn at least the first name into his memory. "Yuuka… I am Ivan Braginsky. It is very nice to meet you."
For perhaps the first time since they've met, Yuuka's smile is genuine.
"I think," she murmurs, "that the feeling is mutual."
The rest of their now-short walk is held in silence.
Translation Notes(fixed with the help of my Russian friend - thank you sooo much):
Скоро наступит весна — Soon it will be spring
А за ней и лето — And then summer will follow
Что, черт возьми? Отвали от меня! — What the hell? Get off of me!
Kore ga kotonatte iru. Koko wa doko? - This is different. Where am I?
Что за – What on earth
Я знаю, что вы имеете в виду — I know what you mean
Мне жаль — I'm sorry
Мисс — Ms.
Thank you MG-1 for catching the inconsistency. This is why I should not post at 1 AM
Historical Notes:
1807 – the Battle of Eylau, between Napoleanic France and Russia in early February. It was a bloody, indecisive battle. Despite the fact that the winter of 1807 was colder than that of 1812, it is the latter that gets more recognition, mostly because Napolean actually lost in 1812.
If Russia and Yuuka are supposed to be absolutely perfect for each other, how come there aren't more stories of the two? Not that there's actually going to be any serious IvanxYuuka here. Maybe. I haven't quite decided yet.
Future chapters are unlikely to have nearly this much Russian, but seeing as it's quite unlikely that Russia would speak to himself in English…
Edit: So I told my Russian friend about this fanfic, sort of... And she offered to help me with the Russian. She is quite an amazing person, and hopefully Google Translate won't have made too much of a fool out of me.
Also also, I swear Yuuka did not just fall through a plothole onto Ivan. Will be explained later.
Please review!)