Ivan turned, sweating bullets. Of course Alfred had come. Ivan had been missing almost all day, hadn't he? "Myself," Ivan mumbled, and Yao crawled up into his lap, almost defensively. He was snarling up at Alfred, it seemed.

"No you weren't!" Alfred growled, putting his hands on his hips. "Who's 'Yao'? Fucksake, Ivan, I can tell when you're lying."

"I was talking to myself," he murmured, glancing up to Alfred. His intimidating stare seemed to be transparent at the moment.

"What the hell is going on with you!?" the American grunted, taking a staggered step forward with clenched fists.

"I'm quitting my job," Ivan said hushedly, resting his hands on Yao's back. "I-.. I'm going to start being an activist. I can't stand for this anymore."

"Are you crazy?" Alfred grunted, not hesitating and charging forward to take Ivan by the shoulder. "What the fuck happened?"

"I saw," Ivan answered softly. "For the first time, I saw."

"Ivan!" Alfred snarled, shoving him. "Just listen, you can't quit like that! Please, I'm worried about you, you fucking asshole!" he cried, slumping where he stood. "You know I love you, whether you're a crazy bastard or not,"

"I do know, as you know I don't and won't return your feelings." Ivan said bluntly, looking to the spirit in his lap. "We've been over this. Just leave me alone."

"Come back to work!" he ordered, huffing and infuriated now. "Stop this right now!"

Yao, unable to keep his temper, jumped forward and dug his teeth into Alfred's leg. He yelped in pain and surprise, stumbling backwards and letting out another cry when he fell. "What the fuck!"

"I am sorry," Ivan commented, watching as the American got back up to his feet and backed away. "I'll return to the site later." But not as a lumberjack, he thought. Nervously, he glanced to Yao, who was snarling at Alfred and lashing his tail with resentment. Was he making the right choice? Probably not. But when else in a man's lifetime does he get to meet a forest spirit and be picked for such a task as being its voice? Pretty much never.

As Alfred scampered off, frightened and confused, Ivan simply pet between Yao's horns and tried to confer with himself as to if he was making the most of this situation. After a while, he opened his mouth to speak. "I should go, Yao," he announced quietly. "About these tasks of yours.."

"Yes? What of them?"

"I shall begin tomorrow."


When Ivan returned to the forest the next morning, Yao was waiting for him by the edge of the trees. "Good morning," he greeted, flicking his tail excitedly before bounding over to Ivan. "Are you excited?"

"Morning. Not particularly," he frowned, petting the top of Yao's head when his arms wrapped around him. "I'm scared more than anything. I just don't know what to say."

"Oh! It will be simple, I will feed you your lines, you must simply repeat after me." Yao hummed. "Would you like to eat some sweetgrass?"

"No, sorry."

"Talking to yourself again?" Alfred frowned as he strode onto the worksite. "Are you okay, Ivan?"

"I'm fine," he nodded, glancing down to Yao. "Today is my first day of protesting, I've got jitters."

"You could just snap out of it and start working again."

"I'm afraid it's too late," he said with a sad smile. "I've already filled in the papers to quit this job."

As the other workers arrived, Yao pulled Ivan over to beside where Alfred was chopping at an old and thick oak; this was to be the site of protest. Yao hid away behind Ivan, probably deafened by the tree's screeching. Well, at least, his ears were flattened to the sides of his head, and he was clutching tightly to Ivan's shirt.

"The trees are crying," Yao started quietly, nudging Ivan to echo his words. He did just that, even though his words were shaky at first. "They are crying, and they are bleeding!" Yao was now whimpering, perhaps in fright, perhaps in sadness. "You take away the staple for life, and you use it for stupid things! You do not care about the forest, so you obviously do not care about your petty lives!" Ivan's eyes narrowed slightly at Yao's turns of phrase, but let it go. "Stop destroying homes and lives! Stop this travesty!"

"Shut up," groaned Alfred, who put down his axe a moment to go over and punch Ivan's shoulder. "I don't give a shit, so stop trying to force thoughts into my head," he sighed.

This was basically how the 'protests' went for the next two days. No progress had been made, and Yao cried to Ivan that it was not working, and how his little heart felt shattered at the thought of losing his home. Ivan did his best to comfort him, even willingly offering his blood to cheer Yao up. 'It will be alright' he had said. 'They'll start listening soon.'

The third day of protesting was spent by the same old oak, one that Alfred had almost finished cutting down. Yao was in despair already, seeing young saplings utterly destroyed. He hid in a treetop this day, and watched a few of the lumberjacks crushing the baby trees with their boots, and then laugh about it. Blinded by rage and forgetting Ivan completely, he leapt to the ground, using otherworldly strength to slam into it, and cause it to rumble.

Ivan heard a creak and glanced up, eyes widening in terror as the ground beneath him shook. He was frozen to the spot, legs rooted in place, and body crippled by fear.

This, my dear readers and friends, is where everything went wrong.


hahah not even one review? not even one?

[flops about on the ground like a dying fish]