Yeah, hi this is my first fanfic, so don't be too hard!
(but don't worry, I am an active reader, so I kinda know how it goes… ^_^)
This is a pilot for a later story, based off another manga series called Dogs, so tell me if it is good or not. I do not feel like writing something no one is interested in. Thanks!
I do not own Hetalia, or Dogs~
~~~pasta~~~
I don't even want to be here, was the first thought that came to Alfred's mind. He was backpacking across Europe over the summer. And ended up lying on a bed in no other than in Moscow, Russia. He disliked Russia so much. The weather here sucked worse than England's weather, and it was freezing cold and dreary. What had occurred was that he had asked the for the train to Poland quite clearly in Ukrainian, not Russia. (because we all know how good Alfred in skilled in different languages) So when he jumped on the train headed to Russia, he thought he was going to Poland. When he stepped out of the train in Moscow. He was confused and flustered, and decided to spend the night at a local youth hostel. Even though had missed the assigned dinner time there, he had been allowed to spend the night for a fairly cheap price.
That is where he currently was. Lying on a bed, sort of content, until the unenviable happened. Right around 2:00 am. Alfred was still lying awake, and his stomach growled. He was hungry, and he had eaten his last hamburger on the train, around lunchtime. It was so unfair. Now not only could he not sleep, his stomach was growling. Wait, he had seen a small grocery store on the way here. Hopefully it was a 24-hour one, 'cuz he was starving now. With a groan, Alfred rolled off his bunk, and slipped on his shoes. He took his backpack with him, just for good measure, since this is Russia we are talking about now. You can't trust anyone, freaking commies.
As he trudged through the snow, oversized backpack already on his back, he headed in the general direction of the train station, since he had seen the store somewhere along the way. Wow, Moscow is so fucking cold. So he trudged on down the street, freezing because he had not brought his jacket, because it was freaking summer, and he hadn't expected to end up in somewhere so depressing. Then because he was just awesome like that, Alfred realized that he was lost. Like hopelessly, lost. Well this is just great. I am stuck in Moscow, and it's COLD! But the next part was the worst. As Alfred tried to continue walking forward, something, no, someone, held him back. He heard the all-too-familiar click of the safety of gun right by his ear. He froze out of habit. Oh god, he was caught by the Russian Mafia! He was as good as dead. Well, if is going out of this world, he is going out like a hero!
Slowly, Alfred turned to face his sure end. It seemed to be an ordinary guy. He wore a black suit, though, and obviously he had a gun pointed at Alfred's head. His face was completely in the shadows, though.
"Вы незаконным проникновением в местности мафии. Теперь вы мертвы мяса" (1)
To which Alfred responded, "Wuh? Dude, I'm American."
The man rolled his eyes, " You are trespassing Mafia area. You dead meat now"
"Oh" was all Alfred said before attempting to turn and run.
He took about 5 long strides before the gun was fired. Alfred fell to the ground, expecting that he was dead. It took him a few seconds, that he was not even in pain. He had not been shot. Then, slowly, he turned back to look at the man. Except there was something block away. A BIG something. It looked like a pale man, wearing all beige. The shot had gone right into him, judging by all the blood coming out of his mouth, and the spreading stain of it coming from his chest. The man had taken the shot for Alfred. His life instead of a stupid American wandering around at 2:00am in Moscow.
"ой' was what the injured man said. He repeated it in English for Alfred's benefit. "Ouch"
Alfred just continued to stare in horror, as the man fell to the ground, and died. Right in front of the intended target. The mafia man just continued to grin, then cocked and aimed the gun again. This time, he would not miss. Alfred didn't even blink. He was in shock of what he had just seen.
"No one to save you this, time заблудшей овце" the man sneered.(2)
Then, something extraordinary occurred.
The man, that had previously taken the shot, and died for Alfred, twitched. Like, the whole body shuddered. And slowly, he rose up, fully alive, and began to hack. And low and behold, up came the bullet that had been inside the guy. The man glanced at it and smiled up at the killer. Said killer gasped, dropped the gun, turned heel, and ran away. The 'dead' man turned and faced Alfred for a second time. This time, he smiled. The blood was still there, on his clothing, and a dried blood trail ran down the side of his mouth. And he was smiling at Alfred. He held out his hand to obviously pull Alfred from his current position on the street. Still in a daze, Alfred grabbed the hand. Under the leather glove, something did not feel right. When Alfred grasped it, the man grimaced. Something then seemed to shift, then snap into place. When Alfred was on his feet, did the man finally speak.
"привет, there! Sorry there, my hand must have broken when I fell, what you felt was my dislocated thumb snap into place. Are you okay?"
Alfred's face had turned an unhealthy shade of green. That was just too much information. Who was this guy, anyways?
Alfred spoke up suddenly, "Who- no, what happened? Dude, you died, then came back!"
The man, who by the way, was extremely tall (even more so than Alfred himself) blinked, then his eyes lit up.
"Oh! So I did die, huh? I couldn't tell whether I passed out, or my heart actually stopped beating that time! Yeah, what occurred is that whenever I am physically harmed, I instantly heal. Even if I am shot, per say, even if it hits something vital, I die, then come back to life. Though, I do believe that if you shoot me through the head, I am truly dead. I have never tried it though. Also, if I am pushed to my physical or emotional limits, I , uh, let's say snap…"
He trailed off with that, Alfred couldn't believe it. So, in simple terms, this was an immortal man, who had issues with staying alive.
"What's your name?" Alfred was still slightly shaky from the whole life/death encounter.
"My name's Ivan, if you really wished to know. By the way, don't go back to that hostel. The man followed you from there."
Alfred managed to mumble a sentence about going to the wrong place at the wrong time. Ivan cocked his head in interest.
"Well, if you need a place to stay, I guess you can stay with me… If that's okay with you? I can protect you, for whatever the mafia is after you for. I really am a good protector."
Alfred gave a simple nod to show his answer. Ivan smiled back, and turned and walked away, motioning for Alfred to follow.
Looked like Alfred's stay in Russia just got longer...
~~~pasta~~~
(1) Yeah, what he says is the thing right below it
(2) Goodbye in Russian
I know you want to. I see that look in your eye... (shut up, I am not France) you really want to so:
REVIEW! REVIEW! R-E-V-I-E-W! REVIEW!
Thank you for your splendid cooperation