Russia x China

Yao opened his eyes with a greeting from a cold and stubborn hand grazing his gentle cheek, waking him up momentarily from the loud explosions of fired guns around him. He couldn't remember much from before when he had passed out from lack of blood, but could faintly smell the scent of drying blood surround him in a pool of red liquid, the symbol of selfishness he had earned. His weak eyes darted back up to meet pale violet colored eyes that stared sadly back at him, as if seeing a young lotus flower dying. He reached up to touch the other's cheek, but was rejected by a shake of the head, tears swelling Ivan's eyes as he tried not to cry, in his eyes it was all over. "I-..Iv-" Yao was cut off by a warm genuine yet fake hearted smile to him, the trailing words afterward sending the warmth in his heart to the abyss. "Yao, you're hurt. You need more rest." The soothing voice cooed to him, and although Yao was very tired, he was too stubborn to fall into defeat, and yet, his eyes nearly closed fully as he rested back onto a warm cot of blankets. Again, his mind went blank and he could hear the humming of someone close fade into the distance.

The next time Yao awoke, the sore muscles of his own ached in pain as he bit his own lip in grief, looking around and searching for the least human flesh he could find. Was he alone? He couldn't tell, but the next thing he knew, there was a sound of boots echoing a few feet away, the clinking of a tray and burnt skin surrounding him, engulfing his wrinkled nose in fear. "Anyone… there..?" he quietly breathed, trying to sit up, but was stopped when a warmer sensation gently pushed him softly back against a cotton pillow. His ears were ringing, but he did understand the few very words that came from the Russian's voice. "You're awake," he spoke, a small hint of a relieved sigh escape the Russians. Yao could only muster a nod of his head, a small smile back at the other as he looked up and around. He was vaguely sure he was where he was from the last time, but it was much warmer and more quiet, candles lit beautifully around with the splash of the color red and white around him, magical. His hand was softly pressed to another surprising cold touch making him jump and shiver in his skin, looking back to the Russian with a half-warm curious look. "It's all over," the voice said. Yao blinked his eyes confused, and the feeling was replaced with the memory of the cold blooded war. Blood and bodies everywhere, he was shot multiple times, but he didn't realize until he hit the ground with indulged eyes, Ivan was there to cry for him, tell him everything was alright. Yao now began to remember what had happened, and wasn't really sure why he had to remind himself of the horrible things he had saw. He shook his thoughts out and squeezed Ivan's hand once more with a calming smile, and nodded. "It's all over."