Hello guys!

Hehe I'm back with a the next chapter of Red - I hope you guys enjoy it ^^

I'm sorry if it's starting off a bit slow - I promise it will get better soon!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, but I wish I did =w=


The silence was almost suffocating to be sat in.
Yao looked down at the floor below him, having grown tired of watching the clouds pass by next to him. Refusing to indulge in the luxuries of the private jet, he had instead curled up on a seat in the corner, isolating himself from the rest of the world. His warm thick coat and blanket served as his only comfort from the gloomy fate which awaited him at Russia's doorstep. He had been on the plane for seven hours now, and with each second that passed, the nausea in his stomach grew. Sighing, he rested his head against a pillow, desperate to get some sleep. However, he was far too anxious to rest, despite how exhausted he felt. Suddenly, he felt a large hand land on his shoulder, startling him as he jolted in shock.
"Looks like we're halfway there, da?" Ivan told Yao cheerfully. The shorter man shot a hateful glare at him, not giving a reply to his words. He felt a greater discomfort as Ivan sat down next to him, and put up a weak effort to try and move himself away. Ivan simply giggled childishly, as if it was some sort of game. After a few minutes of sitting in awkward silence, China finally cracked, just like Russia knew he would.
"Why Russia?..." He started slowly, controlling his anger and tears. If he was going to live with Russia, he first had to know why.
"Hmmm?" Ivan turned to him curiously, smiling that deceiving "innocent" smile.
"You...England...and America and France...You're all supposed to be my allies...so why..." Yao's eyes began to tear up slightly as he reminisced on all those times him and the Allied Forces had spent in the club room. Laughing at England and France's bickering, at America's ridiculous plans and friends. Hiding because they thought there was a ghost in the room, when it was really just Canada. And through all those times, it was always Russia who sat by him, along with the rest of the team. Were they not all friends? Had he been blind this whole time?

He looked up at Ivan, expecting to see that condescending smirk on his face. But instead he saw something different. Something that appeared to be vaguely human.
"My motives are not the same as theirs." Ivan stated, wanting to end this line of conversation. It gave him a certain feeling of discomfort, as emotions he had managed to surpress threatened to resurface. Yao simply gave a reluctant tut, as his anger started to grow once more.
He thought back to earlier that morning, when he had to say goodbye to Taiwan and Hong Kong. How it could have been the last time he was able to hold them in his arms. The pain grew as he remembered every tear that was shed. And yet, the rest of the Allied Forces sat comfortably, able to see the people they loved whenever they wanted, in security and warmth of their own homes.
"Whatever..." he started, clenching his fists tightly. "...you Western nations are all the same..." he spat viciously, the sharp hatred audible in his voice. "...you all just take what you want, you don't care who gets stepped on and crushed, as long as you have power that's all that matters."
China looked up to shoot a glare at Russia, but froze as he saw the expression on his face.
It was the look that made his blood run cold.
Russia's icy glare shot through him like a bullet, stopping him dead in his tracks. Those violet eyes seemed to burn with fury as all traces of any humanity were absent from Ivan's face. Forcefully, Ivan grabbed Yao by his collar, lifting him into the air so they were at eye level.
"Let me make one thing clear. I am nothing like them." Ivan's voice was hollow, with no trace of emotion in it. Yao's eyes widened as the fabric of his shirt began to suffocate him. The man could feel his whole body shaking as his life now hung on a thread. Just a quickly as he had grabbed Yao, Russia let go of him, dropping him back onto his seat. Yao gasped, inhaling deeply as he tried to regain his breath. He was shivering violently, sweat still trickling from his brow as the adrenaline began to leave his blood. As he looked up at Ivan again, the taller nation turned away, as if hiding a weakness, and sauntered back into a different cabin.
"Get yourself cleaned up, we'll be arriving soon." he spat coldly as he exited, leaving Yao in the same intense silence that had existed before he had entered.


The sun made the snow at Yao's feet glisten before him, almost blindingly. He stood frozen, his feet not wanting to move any nearer to the large intimidating building that was Russia's home.
"Move." A harsh shove propelled him forwards as he was poked in the back with the end of a bodyguards mullet. He shot a glare back at the man before reluctantly following Ivan towards the mansion. He walked slowly, the bitter sharp cold making his skin burn and sting. All of a sudden, he felt himself being pulled close to Ivan. Anxious about the proximity, he struggled, however Ivan's arm was incredibly strong.
"You have to be careful, you can get hypothermia if you let yourself get too cold. After all this effort, I would be a bit angry if I lost you after all this, da." Words which would usually be warm and comforting were emotionless and unforgiving from Ivan's mouth. Yao didn't dare protest any further, Ivan's deathly voice sending shivers through him.

"We're here."

That statement made Yao's heart stop.
This was it.
His freedom was over.
Behind those doors, hell would begin.
As the large frames swung open, Yao braced himself. For a split second, he found himself clinging on to Ivan tightly, but then remembered Ivan was the reson he was here.
But it when Yao was being led to his room that the reality became clear to him.
Russia was the only country here that he knew.
He was also the man he hated.
As Yao fell onto the bed, finally able to rest at last, he felt an awful, frightening pain strike his heart. Panicked, he scanned his eyes around the room.
There was no one.
Just furniture.
Yao pulled up the thick warm duvet, shielding himself from the cold air as he sobbed gently.
It had hit him.
For the first time in his life, he was truly alone.
And he was scared.


Ivan sighed as he sat down in his armchair, gazing into the fire in deep thought.
He reflected upon the members of his household.
And now, there was China.
"No matter how many of them I have...I'm still...alone."
His mind turned back to thoughts of Yao, as his brain sketched an image of him, recalling his face. His smile.
"He's just another servant."
But there was a difference between China and the rest of his servants. Yao wasn't like all those other Western nations. He was warm and kind, always looking out to be a brother for others. No matter how little he had, Yao would share whatever he could, and wish good luck for you, even though you were just a stranger.
Ivan admired Yao unlike anyone else.
Yet, despite all that, Ivan would continue his walk of solitude.
He was born alone.
He would die alone.
For him, loneliness was all he knew.
And therefore it was all he would ever know.
It was his fate.


Awwww, poor Yao T^T

Ahh well, hopefully things will start brightening up soon ^^

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, any feedback would be much appreciated ^^

Until then, sayonara!

xoxoxoxoxo