Good evening :)

I just wanted to say, that this is my FIRST English Fanfiction ever. If there are any mistakes that bother you go ahead and tell me.
Also for the Prolog, which is this one, I didn't had a Beta, but for the upcoming and longer chapters I will get one :)
Thanks for the understanding and have fun with reading.

All rights of Hetalia Himaruya Hidekaz aka Hime-papa
Characters are not mine, neither are the names.

Prolog - Fire

Fire. There was fire, everywhere.

It surrounded him. It was on the left and on the right beside him. Beneath and on top of him. On the north, east, west and the south. He could feel the heat coming from it, the bitter, greedy, incredibly hot heat. Sweat dropped from his forehead and landed on the dried, warm sand he stood on. Sweat ran down his neck, his face, his arms, it was like his whole body was covered with it.
His violet, dark eyes fixed the roof on top of him as another fire ray exploded in front of him, reaching his greedy, hot arms to consume the cold and fresh air.
For a few seconds his whole world was on fire, all he could see, could smell, could feel was the fire, the fire that surrounded him.
There wasn't anything else.
Only the fire.
Fire.
Fire.
Fire.
It vanished.
And the applause started.
It was the applause, that he lived for. His whole body was longing for it, it was like the applause nourished him and his lousy and fooled life. A last drop of sweat dripped down his forehead and then he bowed.
He bowed as if it was the last thing he did. The arena was hot, the audience - no, HIS audience - was raging. They raged for him, they liked him, they loved him.
They only loved him and that was all that matters.
He stood up, bowed again, stood up, bowed again over and over.
There was nothing more in his life, than the fire and the sound of pleasured people when he bows.

There were words, words he couldn't hear, he didn't want to hear. The man, with the moustache, the hat and the greedy look in his eyes opened and closed his mouth, formed words Ivan barely could here over the rage of the audience. But he didn't need to hear them anyway, he knew them word by word.
"A big applause for Ivan Braginsky, the best fire-eater in whole Russia."

He smirked.
Yes, yes he was the best.
He always will be the best, no matter what or who will come.
He. Is. Ivan Braginsky.
The youngest and best fire-eater in the whole country, Russia.

He bowed once more. The people screamed his name, through flowers on the stage who barely reached him. Later they will be swept away by their cleaners. They wouldn't even get a chance to reach Ivan.
He looked up into the audience and smiled.

Oh, how he hated it.

Thank you for reading and I would appreciate a little feedback - if it's about the story or my english I would be glad about both :)