Ah Russia. Writing him will forever be the bane of my Hetalia fic-writing existence. orz Also, I love East Asia but rarely ever write them. I really should write them more. Someday. siiiiiigh. Almost caught up on uploading chapters. Sorry, I'm just too lazy to do formatting half the time, haha.
There had to be some irony in the fact that, for once, the trouble at Tokyo Tower was actually quite real.
Not that Japan had much time to consider it. Even as the tower burned, his people rushed to put out the fires, others fighting back the supernatural forces as best they could. His heart thrummed with pride at his people's efforts, but it hurt, too.
It'd been little more than a week, and yet there'd already been so much destruction. And all he could think was that these things weren't supposed to be real.
He'd almost begun to think he couldn't possibly be any more shocked when a massive tiger, big as a house, pounced into the fray with a roar that shook rafters. The dragon that trailed in its wake was just icing on the cake.
His life was not supposed to be like something out of manga!
If Japan were the type to do so, his jaw probably would have hit the ground. As it was, he merely boggled wide-eyed, only reflexes saving him from toppling as a blur of pink flung into him. "Japan!"
"Taiwan-chan?"
Not just Taiwan. Approaching at a much slower pace were- "China-san? South Korea-san?" They'd dragged along Hong Kong too, and apparently Vietnam, as she came into view, lips thinned. Thailand sauntered behind, with Singapore and Malaysia practically bouncing as they made up the rear guard.
"We've come to pick you up. Even if you will probably agree with everyone and not be helpful, aru."
A blink, two. "...pick me up?"
"We're going to Rome. Emergency world meeting!" South Korea's face fell for a moment before a gentler, more rueful grin took over. "Though I couldn't get Sister to come. Says she doesn't trust the Westerners."
Vietnam snorted. "Wise of her."
"Yes, yes, aru. Which is why we should hurry to knock some sense into them. Japan, hurry up and seal your land so we can go, ah."
He didn't have that magic any more, he wanted to say, but then what he'd thought was adrenaline bubbled over and spread through his veins and oh, he would admit that he'd missed it. How had he ever forgotten this?
"It is done," he said. His voice rang strangely through the air.
At least no more demons could enter now. He would trust in his people to eradicate what was already there.
Then he was reaching for the blood of his people, of the people he once might have called family, and the world blurred by in steps that crossed a thousand leagues each.
Beside him, China was smiling, and South Korea's laughter lingered on the wind.
...
"Brother!"
The scream pierced the numbing fog in Russia's mind. So cold, he thought, but that was Ukraine's voice. His sister's voice should not hold that tremor of fear. He had to go to her.
He tried to unfurl from the fetal position he'd adopted to conserve warmth. It was when he couldn't that his mind really began to wake, all his muscles tensing. Opening his eyes, he was met with darkness. He hummed to himself. Perhaps this was what an egg felt like, if there weren't the freezing temperatures, yes? He would just have to break out then.
Russia paid no mind to the sound of fighting outside. He focused on escaping instead, shifting until he was able to rummage through his pockets. The knife he found was useless, unable to penetrate whatever imprisoned him. (It must be made in America, he decided, before throwing it away.) The seeds, he let fall back into his pocket before he continued feeling around. Food, vodka, pen, matches...
...Matches?
In his haste to examine them more closely, he slammed his elbow into one of the walls. The entire structure wobbled for a moment before stabilising once more. He paid it no mind. Gently, carefully, he pulled a single matchstick from the book and struck it. It flared to life, and he briefly cupped its warmth between his palms before lifting it to the wall.
Soon, the cocoon around him began smoking, and then a tendril of flame caught, eating away at the walls. Before it could burn even further, Russia patted the fire out.
He regarded the burnt spot consideringly, where the fire had thinned the material and let light through, just a little. The flame had done a surprising amount of damage in such a short amount of time. Before the matchstick's flame could reach his fingertips, he shook that out too, and then he sat back and thought.
On the one hand, setting the cocoon on fire could mean being trapped within flaming walls if he couldn't put it out quickly enough. On the other hand, it would certainly destroy his prison.
Put that way, there was really only one choice.
Outside, Belarus and Ukraine watched as their brother fell from the ceiling, the giant web that had spanned the room breaking in a rain of ash and fire. He stood when he hit the ground, putting out fires where they'd caught on his clothes.
And then he turned, and looked around, and when he found the half-woman, half-spider thing that had been in their way when they tried to enter their brother's home, he smiled.
It was a little too wide to be considered a particularly nice smile. It was, in fact, comparable to the smile of a boy about to pull off a moth's wings while it still lived.
"That was a very bad thing you did to me," Russia said. Rummaging through his pockets again, he pulled out the bottle of vodka he'd found earlier, and then tore another match from the matchbook. Ah, he mourned. It would be a waste of good vodka, really. "Sisters, please be careful."
Still, the spider-lady did scream so delightfully when she burned.
.
To be continued.