A/N: Hello, there! :D

To whoever you are, thanks for reading this. I'm really grateful. xD

Sorry, but I don't do make-up names. Like the one with Hong Kong and Ukraine. It's just that I think that the anime loses its integrity when that happens, so... :^ Heheh... 'xD

Also, warning: loud, foul-mouthed Italian ahead.

R & R


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Chapter 8

It was Thursday.

The clock rang nine.

He sighed.

Stress, huh? No matter how I look at it, he's right, aru. Even Kiku pointed that out to me before... But, it's not my fault. I have to. I just have to, aru. For eveyone's sake.

He didn't have any documents to check, or reports to file in, or anything. So he just sat there, continuously pondering. His job. His parents. His brothers. His life. And the most recent thing he's been spending most of his time thinking about-Ivan. Hitting himself mentally, Yao snapped away from his rather depressing thoughts.

He took a more formal stance on his seat.

Right. About him. Ivan... There must be something wrong with him. I mean, seriously, who would believe a crazy story like that, aru? Should I give him a couple of tests or something? But... He's pretty normal. Well, of course, except for his little panda story. He stopped for a moment to think. Come to think of it, although his panda tale is absurd, I... I still couldn't think of a way how he could possibly know that much about me, aru. And I still couldn't find my panda, too. But then again... Things like that do happen, don't they?

Another mental blow.

WHAT THE HELL AM I THINKING? Get a hold of yourself! Stuff like that don't happen in real life, Yao! This isn't a fairytale. This isn't some cartoon movie! Honestly, you're not a kid to believe illogical matters like that, aru! God, the stress must really be getting to me...

He sighed again. Lingering in those thoughts ate up an hour.

Chiming again, the clock read ten.

"What? Where did the time go? It was just nine a couple of minutes ago, aru..." Yao mumbled, bewildered. He sat there, waiting for the scheduled child to walk in.

Five minutes passed.

Then ten.

Fifteen.

Twenty minutes.

Yao eventually got bored of just sitting there doing nothing, so he decided to go on to debating with himself whether or not Ivan had a loose screw, whether or not he was telling the truth, or whether or not he's going to believe him. Thinking killed Yao's time without him knowing it. Apparently, he was too preoccupied with his thoughts that he didn't even notice his clock sounding off eleven. It was only when he got a bit too frustrated when he sighed and dug his face into his hands that he realized the time. Unfortunately, he wasn't aware that his mind was too active for his own good.

He caught a glance of the clock. "What, aru?" Yao blurted out. He looked at the clock again; he must have misread it. His eyes squinted for a better view. "Oh. I wonder what happened..." He muttered. He rubbed his temples to fight the incoming headache. "I didn't notice it was already lunch." He fixed his already-neat table and stood up. He strode over to the door and took a deep breath before he stepped out.

"Ivan, aru?"

A faithful, smiling face greeted him. "Hello, Yao."

There it goes again. The sensation the Chinese felt whenever his eyes met with Ivan's. Breathing suddenly became the hardest thing in the world. It felt as though his heart was going to pop out on him any second. "I-Ivan," he began, catching his breath. "It's half past eleven already. Let's have lunch in the cafeteria, aru." Good thing his heart managed to stay stapled in his chest.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"Y-Yes! Of course I am!" He said, jittery and defensive. "So, you want to get lunch, aru?"

Like always, Ivan retained his serene grin. "Yes."

When they passed by Tino's desk, a note was left on the table. It read, "Had lunch with Berwald. Be back by twelve thirty."

And they journeyed to the cafeteria. It was awkward. Normally, they would just talk about random stuff; Ivan would always start the conversation, asking about things here and there, and Yao would answer in his usual, matter-of-fact tone. The silence was deafening. Lucky they already reached their destination.

"Ve~, Ludwig, eat up, okay?" A familiar Italian ushered. "You have to eat a lot! You're going to need your strength to do your work well!"

"Yes, yes, I know that," the German said, his tone a mixture of embarrassment, irritation, and smugness. "Thanks," he uttered when the Italian dumped more pasta into his plate. The Italian smiled happily.

"Awwe, aren't they sweet? I wish you showed your affection more, like your brother, Lovino..." A voice marinated with smooth Spanish accent said longingly. He looked at the two in the next table.

"Antonio, stop wasting my fucking lunch break. If you like my stupid brother that much, then why don't you just fucking marry him?" The older Italian shot. Obvious enough, he was getting pissed.

"But I don't want him," Antonio replied, comforting. He leaned close to the older Italian and cooed in his ear, "I want you."

Lovino's face instantly went red at the words. "Sh-Shut up, you fucking bastard!" He stammered, pushing the Spaniard away. Antonio grinned happily.

The two Italians are brothers and are also the hospital's head chefs. They have brown hair, although the younger's is kind of reddish. The both of them built a reputation of orchestrating class delicacies, all of which are authentic Italian. In fact, all the aliment they craft are so great and have such a classy air, that one wouldn't think of it as hospital food, but instead, one would think of it as items on the menu from a fancy, high-class restaurant. Well, that's expected from a high-paying, private hospital.

On the other hand, the other two, the German and the Spanish, work in the medical field. The German had blonde hair all waxed neatly, and blue eyes that were quite intimidating. He, Ludwig Beilschmidt, is a surgeon. The Spaniard with the messy brown hair and tan skin, Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, works in the lab; he analyzes DNA samples. Currently, the two of them are having lunch with their Italian friends.

Yao was careful not to let the others sense his presence. He led Ivan to the counter and asked what he'd like to eat.

"I will have whatever you will be having," he said with his usual grin.

"Okay, aru," he said. He pointed out a couple of things and payed the cashier. He was about to take the tray when Ivan's hands swooped in to take it.

"I shall take this," he said.

"But..." He glanced at him, "okay."

They found seats not-so-far-away from the four. Ivan unwound his scarf from his neck and kept it neatly folded on his lap. They already started eating when the younger Italian noticed him.

"Ve~! Yao!" He called loudly, waving a hand like a complete ass. "Over here! Hi!"

"Keep it down, Feliciano," Ludwig uttered. He furrowed his eyebrows and scowled.

Yao smiled, and waved in return.

"Hey, if it isn't the child psychiatrist! Hello, there!" Antonio said, gracefully waving a hand.

"I'm a psychologist, aru. Not a psychiatrist."

"What's the fucking difference, anyway?" Lovino babbled.

"Well, aru, the difference is-"

"You don't have to fucking answer that," the older Italian interrupted with deadpanning eyes.

"Ve! You're mean, Lovino! He was just answering your question!" The younger Italian whined annoyingly.

"Well, it was a fucking rhetorical question, you fuckard," Lovino said, rolling his eyes. "So," he looked at Yao, "how's the food?"

"It's fine, I guess, aru," he said before eating a fork-ful of pasta.

"Just fucking fine?"

"Well, yeah, aru," he said, swallowing.

"Why? Isn't it good, or great, or any fucking thing like that?"

"Well, let's see, I eat pasta every single lunch I spend here. The stuff isn't really new, so, I guess it's just normal-nothing too special. I mean, yeah, the first time I ate here, I was amazed, but... It's still good, aru."

"Yao's cooking is better than this," Ivan whispered discreetly. Yao kicked Ivan lightly under the table. "Ow!"

"Just keep quiet, aru!" Yao hissed.

"But it is the truth..."

"So are you saying that you're fucking tired of my cooking?" Lovino said, frowning.

"I didn't say anything like that, aru," Yao said, clearing it out and continuing with his pasta.

"You're so adorable when you pout, Lovino," Antonio suddenly butt in.

The older Italian went red again. "Shut up, you fucking ass! I wasn't talking to you!"

"Well, you know, if you did cook different things everyday, people would eat here more often. Plus, I'd like that a lot," the Spanish uttered.

"You would?" Lovino impulsively said, suddenly struck at the idea. "I mean-nobody asked you, you fucking bastard!" Antonio just grinned at that. The older Italian retorted at the Spaniard's words here and there while the younger tried to stop them. Seeing this, the German also jumped in to intervene. Oh god, they were as loud as hell.

"Get your ass out of this, potato bastard!" Ivan and Yao heard Lovino yell at the German.

"What an amazing mouth he has," Ivan told Yao, eating, all the while staring at the four, noisily bickering.

"You'll get used to him, aru," Yao plainly said. His plate was down to half, so was Ivan's.

"Hey, come to think of it," Antonio suddenly said; grabbing Lovino's wrists and stopping him from painfully pulling his hair.

"What the fuck is it now?"

"Who is that with Yao?"

"Oh, so now you want a fucking Chinese?"

"Of course not, Love." The mentioned Italian scowled at the nickname. "I mean, look," he gestured at the two, "the one he's eating with. I haven't seen him anywhere before, have you?"

Lovino stopped his attempt to yank on Antonio's hair and sat back down. "No, I haven't seen him before, either."

"Hey, Yao, who's that?" Antonio asked the most frequently asked question.

Yao looked up. Why was he not surprised?

"He's my friend, aru. He was visiting me, and he just wanted to see where I work, so..."

"Where's he from?" Lovino poked.

"Where did say you came from again?" Yao asked under his breath.

Instead of answering Yao, he stated, "I am from Russia."

"Ve~! Russia? That's cool!" Feliciano blurted out.

"Oh, Russia?" Antonio repeated. He came over to their table and held out his hand. "Hello, there. I am Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. I'm a med tech professional here. Pleased to meet you...?"

"Ivan Braginski. Pleased to meet you, as well," he said, taking the other's hand and shaking it. Antonio smiled broadly.

"Lovino Vargas, head chef," the older Italian said, holding his hand out like Antonio did.

"Hello, there," Ivan said, shaking hands with the foul-mouthed chef.

Feliciano came running to their table and put out his hand. "Ve, I'm Feliciano Vargas, head chef, Lovino is my older brother!" He giggled, abnormally enthusiastic.

"I'm still wondering why the fucking hell we are," Lovino muttered in a low voice. The German rolled his eyes at him.

"Da, hello," Ivan said, grabbing his hand and shaking it.

Ludwig sighed. He didn't want to be rude, so he walked over and did what all the others did.

"Ludwig Beilschmidt," he said, offering his hand. "Surgeon."

"Hello, Ludwig. You cut people up, isn't that right?" The self-proclaimed Russian said disturbingly as he shook hands with the blonde. "That must be fun, da?"

"I wouldn't exactly call it fun..." Ludwig said.

"So, you say you're friends?" Antonio told Yao. The latter nodded. He raised an eyebrow and smirked slyly. "Just friends?"

"What are you talking about? Of course we're just friends, aru," Yao said, averting his eyes, a small blush crawling its way to his face.

"Really?" The Spanish prodded, his tone obviously wanting a different answer.

"Yes. Really." He wiped his face of sauce, stood up and tapped Ivan by the shoulder. The Russian prepared to leave and collected his prized scarf, wrapping it around his neck again. "Anyway, we really should be going now, aru."

"Ve, so soon?" Feliciano voiced.

"Yes, sorry. I have a scheduled appointment. Maybe another time, okay? Bye."

"Bye," the four of them choired out.

"Thank god we're out of there, aru..." Yao sighed of relief when they hopped on the elevator. "I couldn't think of any more excuses for you." He leaned on the wall, staring at their reflection on the door. Ivan was smiling, biting his lip. "What, aru?"

Ivan was still smiling wide when he answered, "nothing."

Yao frowned. "Seriously, what is it?"

"It is nothing important," he said.

"You said it's nothing important, aru. Then, that means there is something. Just not that important," Yao persisted. "So, what is it?"

"Did I say that?"

"Yes, aru. You did," Yao said through deadpanning eyes.

"Let me re-phrase it, then," he said, taking in a deep breath. "It is nothing."

Ding

"Let's go," Ivan said, gesturing Yao to get off the elevator. His smile still hasn't subsided yet.

"Hey, don't change the subject, aru," he said. "Come on. Tell me, what was it?"

"I am not changing any subjects. We were not talking about anything. Look, a blue bird just flew by!" He said, pointing out a nearby window.

Yao sighed and continued walking beside Ivan. He opened the door, and found Tino tapping away on his computer.

"Hello there, Yao, Ivan," the blonde said, looking up from the screen. Yao uttered a small hello; Ivan nodded. "You may want to take a look at the waiting area. There's someone waiting for you," he added.

"Umm... Okay, I think. Thanks."

"No problem," Tino said, grinning and getting back to his computer.

Yao opened the door. There, a small boy was sitting still on the couch, patiently waiting. He was suppressing his sobs. Grayish blonde hair swished as the lad whipped his head to look at the two, violet eyes glinting with dampness.

"Raivis, why didn't come earlier, aru?" Yao questioned.

"Wh-What? I wasn't supposed to be here earlier... I'm supposed to be here right now. Here," he said, offering a piece of paper. It was his schedule. "It says here one in the afternoon."

"What? That can't be right, aru," Yao said, taking the paper from him and taking a nice, good look at it. "Oh. I get it. It's supposed to be ten. The zero just got smudged off, aru." The Chinese pointed out the black blurr next to the number one. "And it says here AM. You can't be here at one in the morning," he chuckled, giving the paper back.

The Latvian took it and stared at it. He slightly reddened at embarrassment. "You're right... Sorry." He sighed disappointedly and looked up at the kind psychologist. "So does this mean I have to leave now?" His eyes glimmered more as tears started to build up.

"Well, not necessarily, aru. The next kid won't show up until two, and I don't want your coming here to just be a waste, so... I'm guessing we could still go through with this. Why don't we step into my office? Then we can start, aru," Yao said, smiling at the child reassuringly.

The small Latvian's lips managed to curl into a smile. "Okay."

"Then let's go," Yao said, directing the child to his office.

"Will it be alright if I go for a stroll?" Ivan asked. Yao glanced at him, somewhat mentally arguing himself whether or not it's fine.

"Sure. Just don't get yourself in unnecessary trouble, aru."

"Do not worry. I will do my best not to."

With an unsure look, he gave Ivan a nod; the latter smiled before the two disappeared into the next room. Ivan left soon after the door shut closed.

_Ho~hum_

Ivan walked down the stone path in the garden, the trees keeping him cool under the shade. The scent was refreshing, like that of a clean forest. The flowers, the colors, the landscaping, everything was a real eye-candy, indeed, kind of like the colorful gardens one would see in pictures and paintings. The hospital owner's sister suggested they have a serenity garden at the back of the building; so people could de-stress there, she said, it's pretty depressing to see sick people all the time.

Ivan stopped infront of a fairly large sunflower patch.

He marveled in awe.

"Waa... I did not know there were sunflowers here," he told himself. He smiled happily at the sight of the golden flora. "Although Yao mentioned the hospital had a garden, he never once took me here before..." He continued to stare at them, sunlight bouncing off their petals. Ivan sat before the flowers for a better view. He then pulled his scarf low to take in the fragrance. "They smell so nice... How nostalgic..." He grinned happily to himself. How long has it been since he had last smelled sunflowers?

He stood up. His eyes searched for the biggest sunflower he could find. "Ah, there it is," he said, spotting one as huge as a dinner plate. He walked over to it, careful enough not to accidentally step on any. "I shall take you home with me," he told the flower as he reached for it. A small snap sounded when he took it.

He gazed at it, his purple eyes ladden with innocent longing. "You are the most beautiful flower I have ever seen," Ivan unconsciously whispered. "I must show your delicate elegance to someone of equal elegance."

It's always adorable to find innocent happiness in a flower.

Ivan sauntered into the building, his treasured flower in hand. People that he passed by either stared at disbelief, or smiled at amusement. Most did the latter. He was walking in the warmth of a sun-bathed corridor when he saw a familiar face going the opposite direction. Apparently, the person also recognized him, deciding to stop and talk to him.

"Hello, there. Weren't you the one from yesterday? The one in Yao's-I mean, doctor Wang's office?" The small blonde said.

"Da, I am," Ivan answered, donning a smile with no mirth.

"Oh. I thought you were. Umm, let's see, I'm afraid I don't know your name yet... I'm Arthur Kirkland," the short Briton said, holding out his hand. "And you are...?"

Of course, he already knew who he was. "Ivan Braginski," he said, taking the other's hand and shaking it. "Pleased to meet you."

The blonde did his best not to wince at how tightly Ivan gripped his hand. "Right. Ivan. Charmed," he uttered, discreetly shaking off the pain in his throbbing fingers. If Ivan didn't let go when he did, Arthur's hand would have probably been crushed. God knows how much it hurt. "I wouldn't want to sound rude, but, would you mind me asking why you were there yesterday?"

"No, not at all," he said. Ivan knew what he was supposed to do. He didn't want to cause Yao any trouble. "You see, I am Yao's friend and I am from Russia. Currently, I am paying him a visit. Yesterday, he decided to show me around where he works, as well as today," he curtly stated.

"Oh," the Briton nodded at comprehension. "I see..."

"Da."

The awkward silence almost completely settled itself when Arthur's phone rang. He took it from his pocket and glanced at Ivan, saying, "please excuse me for a moment."

The tall Russian just nodded. There was a lot of babbling. Arthur continuously asked the person on the phone to stop yelling. He tried to explain, but Ivan could clearly hear a very angry, practically screaming voice coming from the speaker. He hid a twistedly contented smirk behind his scarf. A couple more minutes passed and eventually, the conversation ended. The person Arthur was talking to apparently slammed the phone on him; evidence enough were his repeated questions of, 'hello?' and 'is anybody there?', and a loud clash.

He gave up. He sighed and put his phone away. He faced Ivan with a very worn-out expression. "Umm, Ivan? I'm really sorry, but I really have to get going now. Maybe we could talk again some other time?"

"It is fine. You should not worry about it," Ivan answered, once again giving the short blonde a smile without warmth. Just discreet indignation.

"I'm really sorry. It was really nice to have met you."

"Likewise."

"Well, I really have to get going now. Bye," he said, trotting off.

"Da. Bye."

It is fine. You run along now, you do not have to worry about me. I believe it is better if I do not ever see you again. Ivan smiled and twirled the sunflower's stem in his hand, continuing to saunter in the sunlit corridor.

...

With a tight hug, he said, "I'll see you later, mommy!"

"Remember, do what doctor Yao tells you, okay, Peter? Bye, I'll see you later," Tino said, ushering the child to go in.

Peter entered the waiting area, closing the door behind him. The bright room appeared to him; the curtains, the books, the toys, they were still as they were. Everything looked exactly the same as yesterday. The only difference is that there was someone sitting in the middle of the couch. A violet-eyed kid. His face was tear-stained; Peter could hear faint sobbing. Then he decided to come over to him.

"Hello?" He asked, standing in front of him.

The child looked up at him, his violet eyes still wet. "W-Why?"

"Why? I should be the one asking that." The kid looked away. "You here for doctor Yao, too?"

The small Latvian sniffed and nodded.

"Oh. Okay. So, what's your name?" Peter asked.

The kid once again sniffed before he answered, "R-Raivis. Raivis Galante."

"Hello, there, Raivis. I'm Peter Kirkland," the blonde said eagerly, holding out his hand for a standard, customary handshake. Raivis obliged to this, earning him a warm grin. "Nice to meet you."

"N-Nice to meet you, too, Peter," he said.

"So, why're you crying?"

"Huh...?" He didn't want to bring that up.

"Just now. When I walked in, you were crying. Why's that?" He poked.

"W-Well... I... Th-That's because..." He didn't want to talk, really. He just wanted to keep quiet. A couple more unfinished excuses and his mouth tilted to a frown, tears started streaming uncotrollably again.

"H-Hey! Wait, I didn't want to make you cry! Honest! I was just asking why you were crying!" Peter stammered, desparately making the other calm down. "Hey, are you even listening to me?" The Latvian still continued to cry, not paying attention to the frantic blonde. "Umm... Uhh..." Peter looked around for anything. Nothing. He stopped and thought for a few moments. "I know!" He stood firmly in front of Raivis, leaned close, and took the other's face into his hands and forced it up to his. There was a small 'choo' and the sobbing stopped.

Raivis just stared, dumbfounded.

"Thank god you stopped," Peter sighed at relief.

"You..." The Latvian began. "You j-just... Kissed me, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did. When I lived in England, a neighbor taught me that. He said that it's supposed to make people happy. And look! I made you stop crying," he said, smiling triumphantly.

"B-But... I... You're... Aren't we both...?" He trailed, unconsciously putting his hand on his lips. His cherubic face was starting to grow red.

"Well, yeah. Oh, I forgot. I'm sorry but, I should get in doctor Yao's office now," Peter said. "I guess I'll see you again sometime, alright?"

Raivis's head was a tad bit hazy; he wasn't aware of what had just happened, and it appears that he couldn't grasp things right now. He just nodded.

"Okay, bye," he said, tapping Raivis on the shoulder. He didn't wait for any answers, and took off. The Latvian just managed a small wave when the door shut closed.

He kissed me.

Unfortunately, his young mind had a hard time digesting that.

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A/N: Heheh, I don't know... My brain's a bit off, as in. There's, like, a ton of things going on. Plus a headache. Crapfuck. |^ So, if you don't like the chapter, please, do tell me. *stare*

fuckard (n.) a fucking bastard; an annoying person

Not to be Yong Soo, but, I invented that word! xD

Oh, I'd like to mention a few stuff. :D

First of all, thank you for all the wonderful people who obliged to answer my little query last chapter. I appreciate it A LOT. :D And the people who always give reviews. Love you. xD Also, I've been keeping track of Nordics who read this thingy. *grins* I wonder what they think. xD Anyway, second, I'm sorry if I couldn't update next, next week, because our prelims are coming up, and the DAY AFTER is the college entrance exams. x^ CRAAAAAP... BTW, I'm not that old yet. I just turned fifteen. Just so you'd know. :D So anyway, to make up for that, I'll do my best to upload a long chapter next. I'll do my best. That's the only thing I can promise. :)

Sorry for the long Author's note. :D

21 July 2010

2200H