While the group back at the school was busy not getting any work done, Ivan had just arrived at the meeting sight outside of Marco's pizzeria. His pipe was hidden underneath his large jacket, although everyone who he was seeing knew him well enough to assume it was there. He had a knife hidden in a compartment in his shoe, much like the stiletto blades in the movies, and his revolver was attached to his hip underneath the jacket as well. It was just an unwritten rule that the participants in the trades have to at least pretend to hold some trust, and therefore value, to the other person's life; even if you really don't care if they get hit by a bus after they leave.

The sound of cars whizzing by echoed through the long alleyway that seemed much like a hallway back at school. The smell of gas and trash, mixed with the familiar tint of blood, hit like a wall the second he stepped between the walls. It was all dark and grey, with some clotheslines hanging above his head, and garbage cans to either side of him. Puddles of water, soot, and other things he does not want to even guess what they were, laid every few feet along the floor and made his stomach turn.

Pretending not to be the slightest bit uncomfortable, Ivan stepped through the dreary place, eyes ahead and smile stitched to his face. He stuck his hands in his pockets, not because he was nervous, but because it brought them closer to the weapons he was now pretty sure he would be using. Romulus was a man of flit and fancy. If he decides not to do business in a five star restaurant, it is certain that it is going to be messy.

When he was at the center of the alleyway, he straightened his posture, looked around the dingy dump and said, "You called?"

Within a few seconds he was surrounded by Romulus's lackeys, streaming out of all the buildings on either side of him. Ivan stayed against his own wall, leaning against it so that he knew his back was covered; and a hand always ready to reach for the pipe, his weapon of choice. He has his own people on his way so he is not too worried if this gets violent. He just wanted to 'set a good example' and come alone.

After two minutes, Romulus himself came out of one of the buildings. He had on his usual outfit, a sleek designer suit (so that's where Lovino gets it from) and an overcoat. He had a pistol clipped to one hip, barely concealed by his long shirt, and a long sword strapped to the other. It was an odd weapon for now a days, but he had always claimed he was channeling his roman ancestors.

"Oh Ivan," Romulus said with exaggerated hand gestures walking over to Ivan. "It's been so long.;how are you?" He stuck out his hand waiting for Ivan to shake it.

Ivan continued his smile that everything was alright and shook Romulus's, as his heart raced just like it always does before a fight. Something had to be wrong here, and he was starting to regret coming. But, he wanted his money. He managed to get rid of the Brazilian boy, just as requested, and he expects his payment.

"I am fine, comrade. Works well, no people trying to take over my position, life is good, da." Ivan had always had a bit of a habit of using more Russian words and phrases when he got into business situations. His accent also got much thicker.

"Glad to hear it," Romulus grinned, giving off a happy go lucky air that got passed down to his grandchild Feliciano. "Same here, I met this really cute girl an-"

"If you do not mind, comrade; I have to be back at the school by twelve." Ivan cut in, just wanting to get this over with. What had seemed fun at first was quickly turning boring as he lost his nerve.

"Oh, of course." Romulus said, the happy, flowery grin on his face turning a bit more sharp and cold. "But, well, about that. We ordered Abai dead. You just sent him away. Now, do you agree that if the customer doesn't get their product, the producer can't get paid, right?"

Ivan's eyes narrowed as he took a step closer to the other, and noted the clicks of guns being readied. "You said 'get rid of', and I did just that. I sent him away to a place that he will not be able to come back from. Siberia is a great vacation spot, da?" His smile now took up most of his face and his head was tilted to the side as if he was a questioning child. "I personally think that if you can get a job done without murder, then that leads to less blood to clean up. So I will do what I have to do."

Romulus, although backed against the wall now looking up at Ivan who was towering over him, smiled and let out a chuckle. "Wow Ivan, I never expected you to be a soft one. A dead body may be harder to clean up, but they also can't tell on you."

Ivan looked around and noticed the stern faces of all of the mod members around him. He reached into his coat and put his hand on his pipe, ready to pull it. He would have no hope if this came to a gun fight, too many on one, but if he could take a hostage, maybe this could work.

"I want my money, comrade," Ivan said in a sickly sweet voice. "And I expect to be paid."

Romulus shrugged, slipped to the side of Ivan and yelled, "Fire!"

Out of instinct, Ivan dropped down as the bullets sailed over his head. He used the hook end of his pipe to catch the leg of Romulus who was in the process of running from the volley. He managed to pull the other down and hold the pipe underneath his chin in a way that using his strength, Ivan could easily pop off the head.

The guns immediately went down, as Ivan slowly stood, keeping his captive in position while looking around with his glinting eye. "Now comrades, I expect to be paid one way or another. I am sure the police would give a heavy reward if I bring in the Italian mob boss, true? Or, you could just give the money and we could be on our way."

The group looked to each other, not sure of what to do, until a laugh erupted from their leader. Romulus was flat out cackling now, his eyes closed and if it were not for the fact his body was pinned and head locked, he would have bend over and slapped his knee.

"Oh Ivey, Ivey, Ivey, you haven't changed at all have you? You're still just the scared little poor boy you were back in Russia."

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Many years ago in Russia

Ivan was born, grew up, and according to most people he had met, would die in the dirty slums of Moscow. His family never had enough food to eat, or a non bug infested place to sleep. Him, his mother, father and sisters lived in a two bedroom apartment, in which Ivan took the dirty beat up couch in the microscopic living room. His mother worked her hands to the bone trying to scrounge up money doing odd jobs, as well did Ivan's father although Ivan did not quite know what he did.

Ivan got a job at a young age as well; waiting tables at a small diner in the nicer area of the slums. The crème of the sweat sock soup. He made just above minimum wage, which got them some food on the table. His eldest sister, also took and got a job, although he did not know what she was doing either at the time, just as he had not with his father.

Due to the neighborhood they were in, where homicide was the norm and it was just as common to be mugged on your way to class as it would be to be going to class, Ivan was a favorite target. He was childish and sweet, believing the best in everyone and trusting endlessly, even people who had hurt him terribly before. He would hand over his wallet if someone asked to see it because of the design, and then when they walked away he just stood there waiting for them to bring it back. But of course they never did, and then he was just left there to stand out, crying in the cold.

When he turned twelve, he finally got to learn just what his father actually did for a living. It started when his father burst through the doors cheering and smiling, saying that they will be moving out the next day because he got a promotion. They did, moving to a much bigger and better apartment although it was still in the same neighborhood. The day they moved out, the man who left every day at four in the morning, then arriving back home covered in bruises and snow (where he got the name general winter from), explained to his only son that he was in the mob. He had worked his way up from errand boy all the way up to boss, which was why they would no longer have to worry about money. Ivan smiled and hugged his father, congratulating him while secretly being a little worrisome over his father's career. But he was going to be the supportive son he knew he always had to be. Besides, his father was General winter! Nothing could take him down.

Except, as Ivan learned on his thirteenth birthday, a bullet. A bullet shot from an Italian's gun during a large fight. Ivan was left with just his mother, who was quickly falling sick to cancer, and his sisters as the only providers for the family, none of them making just above the cost for food. Within two weeks, they ran out of rent money and had to downgrade back to an apartment like their old one. Hungry nights came back, as well as times without a heater. They became desperate for any way to make money, but his mother finally fell. She wasn't dead, but she could hardly move on her own, let alone make any money for the family.

His little sister was far too young and far too pretty to be able work, and Ivan just wouldn't allow it. He hated that his older had to as well, that he, as the man of the house, was not able to provide for his family.

He worked four jobs now, the waiter gig, one at a factory, shined shoes on the street, and occasionally pickpocket when times got extremely desperate. He made next to nothing, but it was just enough to keep them afloat at the bottom. Not quite hitting the floor.

When he discovered that this was not going to work out for him, he turned to the same place his father had, crime. But he took a different approach to it, became a singular entity rather than part of a group. He became the mercenary of both the police (who were awfully corrupted in his area) and the various mobs. It started just small jobs, a quick robbery, a non kill shot to a leg, bill collecting, and things like that. But it was working extremely well. His family became richer than they ever had, and since Ivan was gaining a reputation, that he really had done nothing to deserve at the time, what they couldn't afford shops gave him for free to avoid getting on his hit list. A hit list which at the time did not exist.

That was, of course, until he was fourteen and actually did receive a hit list. As well as a promise of enough money to make sure his family never went hungry again. With shaky hands, heavy heart and many, many tears, Ivan pulled the trigger and killed his first man, which had terrified and scared him to no end. But the man was not lying, they now had enough money to never go hungry again. But there was still rent, college, and many other things to worry about so it was not as if he could stop working. His little sister still stayed out of the work force at Ivan's request because he was terrified both of her and what could happen to her. His elder however he had no control over, and she still refused to tell him what she did as a living in order to bring home her actually pretty substantial pay check. Until, one day, he did find out. And he was furious.

Through the grape vine, he finally managed to weasel out of one of his 'friends' that his sister has been used as a spy for one of their groups since it is extremely easy to convince someone to spill all their information when they are drunk and kissing a hot woman. Ivan stormed home in a furious rage to speak to his sister and get her out of the dangerous position, when he stepped into their apartment and saw her backed up to the wall, clothes ripped and a man with a gun pointed to her head kissing her as she fought back.

Ivan seeing red and panicking, pulled out a pipe that was on the wall, ignoring the burn on his hand from the fact it was filled with hot water, and smashed it against the man's head. Blood and skull fragments flew everywhere and got onto him and his sister, who immediately fainted to the floor as Ivan stood shivering a moment away from tears. He'd killed before, but always for a profit, and at a distance, usually with a sniper or poison. He got away before he had to see the results, but this time, it was staring right at him with cold and dead eyes.

Dreading what he had to do, but also knowing that he would get in much more trouble if he did not, he cut up the body, throwing up twice as he did, and deposited it in the back of the house in the trashcan, reminding himself the entire time that this man violated his sister and deserved no pity. His sanity cracked a bit while doing so, and when he arrived back to the house and went into his room, he laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed, not his kohls either, a genuine laugh that one does when rejecting what is in front of you. In this case, reality.

That was the day Ivan truly snapped. His already high levels of paranoia reached new limits, to the point where he did not, and still does not, eat food others have prepared for him in fear that it is poisoned, that someone will get revenge on him for what he did both to that man and to the countless others he had murdered to stop from going hungry.

His sister and mother, who was slowly dying, saw how this was all affecting Ivan. He was no longer the sweet, trusting boy he used to be. He was cold, hard and calculating beneath the warm exterior. Fearing that he might literally shatter into pieces, they 'requested' (demanded and threatened to send the American branch of the mob to burn down the school) to let Ivan into Hetalia Academy. And low and behold, he was sent off. And his little sister who refused to be without her brother was transferred to the middle school program.

Ivan was hesitant to leave at first, but his eldest sister, who now had gotten a job running a farm outside the city, assured him it was fine. That her and their mother were moving out to the country where they would be safe from harm. Reluctantly, Ivan trusted her and packed up his bags.

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Just because he moved to the United States did not mean that he could just stop his work. He had to be able to pay for things himself, and was going to move out soon, and he just did not know how to handle a regular job, so this suited him fine. He did not kill anymore, and hoped he never would have to again, and he still got paid.

"Oh Ivan," Romulus laughed. "I still remember that night your father died. Sadly it was not by my hands, but it was still rather entertaining to watch."

Ivan pushed the pipe further up, blocking off Romulus's air way and making the man start to choke and sputter. He forced his breath to calm to avoid doing anything rash, no matter how much he wanted to just push it up a little more and end this miserable man's life. But while Yao has many connections to the police here, they sadly are not nearly as corrupt as in Russia, therefore blatant murder may not bode over well.

"Now. I am going to be leaving now. But first, I. Want. My. Money."

His face turning a shade of blue, Romulus waved to a boy who looked a small bit like the Italian twins back at school. He opened up the lid to one of the trash cans lining the brick walls and brought it over to Ivan. The Russian adjusted his position so that it was his arm, not the hand, that he would have to pull back to kill the man in his grip.

"Thank you comrade," said Ivan as he began inching away to his car, keeping Romulus hostage. When he got to the end of the long alleyway, just out of the range of public view, he released him, and jumped away before a shot could be fired and locked himself in his car, which he had been sure to get bullet proofed. Without so much as a change of expression, he placed the suitcase with the money in it in the passenger seat and started up the car, driving away without looking back.

He chose to ignore the black Russian cars pulling up to the alleyway, and the sound of gunshots being fired.

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AN- So hey guys :) Remeber when i said that i was going to have a really happy, fluffy chapter now and then a huge drama thing the one after...yeah i may have lied. The fluffy thing got moved, so sorry. But anyways, now you've got part of Ivan's backstory.

By the way, i saw that last update didn't show up on the main page, so if you don't understand this chapter check to be sure you didn't miss the last one, since i don't know if the email got sent out as well as the updates.

Well, that's it for now :)

-ithefantasticfanatic