Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies.
A/N: Second revision - December 17th, 2009.
WARNINGS: Very symbolic in every aspect. It might require that you read more carefully.
Winter Burial
~雪葬~
Lithuania walked down the hallway. His steady and determined footsteps were especially loud in the emptiness of the setting.
Or, perhaps, what was so loud that almost overwhelmed his hearing was, instead, the commotion in his heart; his people were restless. And it was all because of the item he carefully tucked away at his side.
Realizing that his palm was too moist for comfort, he shifted his grip on the large manila envelope. He laughed inwardly at himself, at his apprehension. That was the burden of being a nation. Peace and calm were rare, since people always needed or wanted things, things like independence and change.
Lithuania strolled on some more. He was going to the last room down the hall. But he still had a long way to go. A walk down the hallway to his final destination never felt so much like a journey.
And like any other journey, he would require the support of companionship to carry on. Soon, company interrupted his solitude---company that came in the form of memory.
What did being forgotten mean to a country?
Toris remembered being offered the world map after arriving at Russia's house as his prisoner. Russia smiled happily at him when he accepted the map from his hands. He was curious of that smile. More importantly, he was curious to see what had become of him. He wanted to see if he maintained his individual identity even after his addition to the Soviet Union.
To his surprise, the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth's boundaries were no longer clearly defined on the map. He was merely part of Russia, part of the Soviet Union, too insignificant to be identified on the world map.
His hands shook uncontrollably; an earthquake erupted in amid the world map. He did not know whether his vision was playing tricks on him or not that he witnessed the already vast Soviet Union spring up and consume more land around it.
"My land is nonexistent. I am as good as dead." He mumbled, edging towards despair. But he wasn't dead. He wasn't nonexistent. He was forgotten. And that was worse than death.
"Then die, Toris." His smile was still there. "That way, you'll be with Russia forever. That way, you'll be with me forever."
Russia's hands upon him then snatched him away from his absorption in the piece of paper. He thought, perhaps, Russia was really going to end his existence.
He closed his eyes, apathetic of the inevitable. After all, what was worse than being forgotten?
But the inevitable came in the form of the winter chill. When his eyes opened again, Toris realized that he was completely naked before the other.
He wants me to freeze to death, he thought, somewhat amused. To freeze until it hurts, to hurt until he goes numb, and Death shall finish him without him knowing.
But what he felt next was nowhere near freezing point.
"Toris... you will become one with me, will you not?"
And the heat from that night gave the illusion that he was melted, and that he was indeed remolded as a part of Russia forever.
The next morning.
Toris awoke feeling more fatigued than ever.
Russia had not been rough with him during the previous night. Instead, he was exactly the opposite. He was gentle with him during their first time. And after that... After he knew he was ready, his actions became furious, and his grip was iron.
Russia was serious about wanting him to become one with him. The first part of him the other desired to conquer was his body.
"Toris…" A timid voice sounded.
It was a tiny voice, but Toris still heard it nonetheless and broke from memory's companion abruptly.
He turned to see a shorter figure beside him.
Latvia. Raivis.
"Don't do this, Toris. What would become of Eduard and I?" The smaller nation's voice cracked, the glimmer in each eye was so bright that Lithuania knew he would be crying soon.
Lithuania offered him a comforting smile.
"When the time comes, you'll know what to do." He paused, thinking about what else to tell the other. "And whatever you do, avoid the crystal house in the backyard."
With that, he was on his way again with memory.
Toris remembered Ivan showing him the sunflowers his boss had given him. The petals were still the vibrant shade of golden yellow, and the stems and leaves matched the deep shade of his forest green eyes. The silky, hair-like roots were completely attached at the bottom.
Observing, Toris asked, "Are you going to plant them, Ivan-san?"
Ivan only smiled enigmatically. "Ne, Toris. Come with me~"
Toris nodded. They were off.
They walked until they arrived at a building consisting mostly of crystal ice in the backyard. It looked like a greenhouse.
The taller nation warned him. "It's going to be cold."
Ivan opened the door and the cold air blasted out, making Toris shiver and clutch tighter at his coat.
It definitely was not a greenhouse.
To Toris's amazement, he saw a large variety of flowers inside the crystal house. None of them were planted. They were stored in transparent cases.
Ivan approached an empty case on the farther left of the room.
"These are made from the ice of the Yana River basin." His gloved hand ran along the corner of the lid slowly, before lifting it up. He placed the flowers inside carefully, then shut the lid softly. "The cold preserves everything, Toris. And this is the coldest thing in my land."
Toris's eyes roamed around to see all the other flowers in their cases; they maintained their youth and beauty. Ivan was right about the cold.
He noticed a crystal case, larger than the rest, stationed at the far end center of the room. Correction. It was not a case; it was more like a coffin. He looked around again and realized that all the other cases of flowers on the left and right of him seemed to pave a path toward that final crystal coffin on the end, where the lighting was best.
But the crystal coffin was empty.
Ivan must have noticed his questioning gaze upon it. He stepped casually toward it, and placed his hand gently upon the top like he had done with the other case previously. And Toris could not help but notice how he was more mindful with this glass coffin than with the one that contained his favorite flower.
Ivan smiled childishly at him. "This is where my most valuable possession will be preserved."
Confusion surfaced within emerald depths. 'But, weren't those sunflowers…'
Instead of giving a straightforward answer, the other continued. "Ne, Toris, have you heard of Snow White?
Shaking his head, he waited patiently for him to enlighten him. It must be another part of Ivan's culture.
"When she died, the seven dwarves put her body into a glass coffin. A coffin much like this. That way, they could still witness her beauty," He breathed the last few words in his sentence, "even when she was already dead."
As Ivan spoke, he could already feel anxiety rising inside him.
Did that mean…? That crystal case, no… That crystal coffin was what Ivan prepared for someone…?
Ivan gazed tenderly at him; he smiled innocently still. "So, when your body dies and your soul becomes one with me, I will preserve your body here."
Excitement brightened his eyes. "Now, isn't that a good idea?"
And perhaps, Toris had never been so shocked in his existence.
"You've decided, haven't you?"
Lithuania realized he was by Estonia's room, by Eduard's room, when another speaker interrupted his exchange with memory. Eduard, with his arms crossed before his chest, leaned against the doorframe.
He still had a few distances to go. He still had to reach to the end of the hallway to where 'his' office was.
Lithuania nodded. What came out of his mouth as a reply was something all too familiar.
"Some things are just not meant for the cold." He told him, and gave him the best smile he could manage after so many years, after so many passings of the cold.
His brother smiled back, bitterly because of harsh acceptance.
"I understand."
It was strange, how separation brought people together, and was now bringing nations together as well. Lithuania never felt his siblings' understanding and need for him as strong as today.
Lithuania embarked back on his journey with memory.
Ivan's words to him were always threatening. Yet, he never accomplished whatever he spoke of.
But, somehow, Toris knew, it was only the matter of time.
…Or was it?
During his stay in America, he felt something sprout and grow within him.
It was his feelings for Ivan. If he never left the cold, he would have never realized such an occurrence. But because he left the cold, and because he left Ivan, he began to realize just how much he missed him. It was strange, how separation brought people together, and was bringing nations together as well.
Yet, the previous fact became the subject to change when Ivan went to pick him up at Alfred's house.
Alfred took one long look at him, eyes swiping him from head to toe, and told him.
"You know, some things are just not meant for the cold."
Toris didn't know what Alfred was talking about. He did not know if Ivan understood.
But he did feel Ivan's grip tighten around him
When Ivan brought him back to his land, he placed him down on the bed with the gentleness he never knew he had. The strong smell of vodka on the pillows proved the bed's recent occupation even with his long absence from his own room. Ivan brought the thick covers over him and snuck in as well.
He held him close.
"Ne, this way, you won't be cold anymore, right?"
That night, and many, many others nights that followed, they laid together and slept. Just laying and sleeping together. That was all.
And Toris felt, even in Ivan's warm embrace, those feelings he recognized for Ivan halted in their growth. It was as if Ivan had taken a hold of them and placed them in one of those ice-made cases that he put all his flowers in.
"Brother will be all mine, you know."
A female's quiet voice. Belarus. Natalia.
Lithuania turned and noticed her there. He smiled softly, like the many times he had smiled at her before. But Natalia knew something was different.
"Yes, I understand, Belarus-san. He will be all yours." If he was by Belarus's room now, that meant he was merely a few feet away from the end of the hallway, from that certain nation's office.
He continued walking, determined to reach his goal.
"Don't you care?!" She yelled behind him. "That, I… I…"
He does not let her finish. He quickly pulled the flower that had been peeking out from his pocket and offered it to her.
"I'm sorry, Belarus-san. After all, I still can't be your prince." He offered a sincere apologetic smile.
She snatched the white lily from his hand, hiding her face behind her long hair and retreated back to her room, shutting the door loudly behind her.
He wondered if that flower was going to end up in one of those crystal cases in the little house in the backyard.
Lithuania shook his head. Most likely not. After all, he wasn't whom she loved…
It did not matter now, anyway. His focus on his current priority stopped all the attempts his mind made at analysis in finding hope in the possibility of their relationship.
Just a bit more, he assured placing a hand over his restless heart in attempt to quiet it. Just a bit more.
Ivan began treating him like a porcelain doll after his arrival back from Alfred's house, as if he was so fragile that he could break every time he touched him. He never allowed him outside, out into the cold during the winter, and he always scolded him for not wearing enough clothing even though he was wrapped in layers upon layers of thickness under his heavy coat.
And the reason behind this, Toris did not find, until he peered out the window one day and saw the crystal house, still standing in the backyard.
He was curious of the flowers. Perhaps they all survived. After all, the cold preserves just about anything, did it not?
Making sure he was absent from the main residence as short as possible, Toris threw on his coat and ran for the backyard through all the snow and slush. Upon arrival, he tiptoed through the door.
Toris looked around the crystal house. Instead of the vibrant colors from once so long ago, the flowers, all of them, even the sunflowers on the far end, were the color of snow.
And they all looked so fragile, as if they were ready to shatter.
Ivan was inside, with his back turned to him as he knelt before the crystal coffin in the far center end. He laid his head upon it.
Behind him, Toris saw a shattered crystal case. The broken pieces laid in a mess on the marble floor along with a pile of ashes. The flowers that were once contained inside were nowhere to be seen.
That was when Toris realized: the flowers were reduced to ashes.
Toris's ears picked up the other muttering in a low voice to himself, obviously oblivious to the fact that he had just entered.
Toris listened harder.
"Some things are just not meant for the cold… Some things are just not meant for the cold…" He recognized those words. Those were the same exact words Alfred had told Ivan.
And perhaps, that was too true. The cold preserves everything. And yet, once those things were preserved, there was no hope for them to be dug up and resurrected once again.
"But I've tried so hard… I've tried so hard…"
The hoarse quality of his voice gave prove to the possibility that he might had just spent hours in crystal house crying and muttering to himself.
Toris stood there and watched.
The Toris in the past would have ran over and comforted him.
But he was no longer the Toris of the past.
His feelings were frozen.
His heart was frozen.
His memories were frozen.
His mind was frozen.
He did not have any reason to approach the other.
That was why, he backed out of the room as silently as he came in and closed the door, shutting Ivan and all his glass flowers inside.
Lithuania arrived at his destination outside of Russia's office. His companion, memory, retreated back into his mind, back into that special crystal case inside.
He knocked, then allowed for a few seconds to pass before entering.
The other's amethyst eyes were upon him immediately when he stepped in.
"Sorry to interrupt you, Russia-san." He delivered the envelope to the top of his desk, ignoring the other's gaze that threatened to burn a hole through him. "I am requesting your signature for this document."
Then he stepped back and waited.
Ivan stared at him still, disregarding the envelope and the document inside. Toris stared at the floor, disregarding him.
Finally, Ivan rose from his seat and made his way to him, gracefully and silently like a predator approaching his prey.
He reached out.
"I should have killed you then." He stroked his cheek with the gentleness that contradicted his harsh words. "I should have killed you once I found out about your plans."
He drew him into his heated embrace.
Lithuania doesn't understand the message the other was trying to convey through his action.
Just like, Lithuania did not know the reason why Ivan did not kill him before, when he had such a strong desire to do so.
"I should have killed you. That way, you'll never escape..."
Lithuania listened quietly.
"But then... But then..." Ivan argued with himself out loud. "You would be so cold. And there is nothing I love more than your warm body."
After remaining silent for so long, Toris finally spoke up. "You should have, Ivan-san."
He agreed with him.
"You should have killed me, Ivan-san." He shrugged off the other's embrace. "Along with that, you should have abused me, instead of letting me live and spoiling me."
His heart was beating so loudly now. It was so loud that it dominated that little voice belonging to the last few remains of memory inside his mind. He ventured, knowing that what he will say will break the other mentally.
"It's your fault, Ivan-san."
True to his predictions, the other snapped and tears began rolling down his face like they did on a certain Sunday so many years ago. He did not know what he was blaming him for: for the flowers that were fated to become dust one day, or for the part of himself he had lost to the cold.
Lithuania still did not look at him.
"I will be outside waiting for the document, Russia-san."
Lithuania took the time to exit the room, leaving the Ivan who was on the verge of a mental breakdown in the room and shut the door.
He knew the other would not cry for long. Russia was a land cold enough to preserve anything. Russia was a land cold enough to freeze anything. Soon, Ivan's tears would be frozen. And he will cry no longer.
'Hate me, Ivan-san.' He thought. Hate him, because that was so much easier.
Hate him, he thought, because at least his hatred for him will be real. And maybe it will endure time. At least it will not be like those fragile flowers that had been preserved by the cold for so long that they grew to rely on it, and were reduced to nothing but dust in the end. At least it will not be like his memories and that pitiful amount of feelings he had for the other that have also been preserved by the cold for so long that they grew to rely on it, and were reduced to nothing but dust in the end.
And nothing can then prove their existence from once upon a time.
-Конец-
END NOTES:
~ "To be forgotten is worse than death" is Freya Crescent's motto from FF9. So it's not mine.
There is a specific reason for using national names and human names interchangeably. I think, when a nation resumes his national name, it means that he is carrying his people's burden, that he has to discard all "human" emotions. On the other hand, while he is under his human name, it means that he has the freedom of his own personal thoughts and feelings.
When writing fanfics, I always like to be crueler to the seme than the uke. :P Because uke-abuse is so overstated.
The HUGE difference between an essay and a story: In an essay, your professor wants to know what he's reading about right away, as it should be clearly outlined in the thesis. But in a story, it is FUN when the reader has no idea WTF is going on in the beginning. The surprise is bigger in the end. XD
Always, thank you for reading~