"I just want to talk," said Russia, and he sat down and pulled his knees to his chest, curling up like a frightened child. "Please?"

China shuffled upwards so that he was sitting properly.

"Is that so?" he asked.

"Da," Russia replied.

"Hold on-aru."

The taller nation watched in bemusement as his smaller friend picked up the lanterns and positioned them so that he was surrounded by as much light as possible. He frowned when he saw the Russian's expression.

"Don't look at me like that-aru," he snapped.

"Like what?"

"Like I'm some kind of weird space alien. I just don't like darkness, okay-aru?"

Russia nodded. He understood perfectly.

"S-so anyway," said China, clearly trying to regain composure, "what did you want to talk about?"

Russia tugged at his scarf, trying to release some heat from under his collar. He was nervous. He had never discussed this kind of thing with anybody , let alone China. But he had to get it out. Otherwise he would explode.

"China," he said, "do you feel weak?"

He was being glared at accusingly. Maybe he had said the wrong thing.

"What do you mean-aru?" asked China. "Russia, you are one of strongest nations in the world. You're not weak. You're opposite-aru!"

"I… I don't feel strong anymore," Russia explained, bowing his head in shame. "I used to think I was most strong and powerful country on face of Earth, but since I return home I don't- I don't feel as strong as I used to be."

He looked up at China, pleading for the understanding he so desperately desired. China, with his round, boyish face, his bright eyes and-

-short straight hair, hanging like a dead thing around his cheeks.

He reached up, the tips of his fingers brushing against the smaller man's ear as he shied away. When he realised that no harm would come to him, China allowed Russia to twirl the dark locks around his fingers. His face was heartbreaking: a blend of guilt, sadness and unfiltered regret.

"I could have protected you."

"No, Russia-"

"I am strong and powerful country, da? I crush smaller countries beneath my feet and eat their hearts for breakfast, but I cannot keep you safe from small group of petty humans."

"Russia-"

"I had to watch them hurt you and did not do anything to help. I allowed myself to be overpowered by band of primitive thugs armed only with knives and guns. I should have been able to beat them, but I got scared and should have-"

"Let yourself get shot?" asked China.

He took the other country's hand away from his hair, but kept their fingers intertwined.

"They would have shot you-aru," said the Oriental. "They were not men, but savages. Barely even human anymore. Their lives being taken was a mercy too generous for them-aru."

He wanted to smile. Russia wanted to admit that China's words were comforting him, but they weren't. He rubbed the fingers that held his, if only to remind himself that they were there. They were alive. No longer living a nightmare.

"They cut it off," he stated weakly. "Your hair."

"It's only hair," said China, possibly to convince himself as well as his companion. "Hair that will grow back-aru. You don't have to worry about that."

Russia failed to avert his eyes.

"Maybe," he said doubtfully. With a faint smile he added "I must admit that you look very cute with shorter hair."

It took all of his willpower to avoid laughing as China's face flushed the same colour as a ruby.

"This is hardly appropriate time to say such thing-aru!" he cried.

"Well, if not now, when?" asked Russia, retaining his innocent smirk.

It warmed his frozen heart to see China smile. He looked so sweet and childlike. Positively huggable. It was hard to imagine that he was over 4000 years old.

Still…

It was next to impossible to forget. The desperation and fear in his eyes just before they were hidden behind a strip of black cloth. The sheer terror written all over his face as he was seized by the hair, and when Russia saw the dim light glinting off the blade of a knife, he was all but certain that somebody else close to him was about to die.

He had enough blood on his hands as it was.

"Russia?"

He wrapped his other hand around China's, wishing he could never let go.

"Were you scared?" he asked, trying to avoid looking into his eyes. "When they cut it off, were you frightened?"

China gulped, suddenly fearful.

"I-I'm sorry," Russia stammered, "that was bad question, I should not have-"

"It's alright," China interrupted him. He tugged the gloves away, revealing the other nation's pale hands, and rubbed them to warm them up.

"To tell the truth," he said, "I was more afraid than I had ever been in my whole life-aru. I heard them draw the knife, but I couldn't see where they were or what they were going to do with it. I feared they may cut off part of my body-aru. When I felt them grab my hair, I- I just…"

Russia saw his eyes flicker to the lanterns, which had grown noticeably darker since they had started talking. The smaller man was beginning to grow more shifty and nervous by the second.

"What's wrong?" asked the gentle giant. "Are you afraid now?"

China bit his lip.

"Shì," he admitted. "Of the darkness. I don't want it to be dark-aru. I know, it sounds childish, but I keep thinking that if I let there be darkness I might-"

He was cut off, quite suddenly, by Russia pulling him into a tight hug.

'Nothing bad can happen to you,' was what he wanted to say. 'No harm will come to you while I am here. I can keep you safe. I can protect you from the things and people that might hurt you.'

But it wouldn't be true.

No matter what China said, Russia knew that there should have been something he could have done. Even now, when he should have been indulging in the warmth of their bodies pressed together, he could tell that the other man was equally as damaged as he was. And the worst part was that there was nothing he could do about it.

He allowed his fingers to run through that dark hair. It should have been longer. Much longer. Long enough to wrap around his entire hand, not just his smallest finger.

He looked past China's head at his unclothed hands.

These hands had failed him when he had needed them. Couldn't he have reached up and seized that gun? Would the thug have just pulled another and shot him? Would China have been shot instead? Or as well?

He closed his eyes, ignoring the tears that started to trickle down his face.

"Russia?" said China. "Are you okay-aru?"

He wasn't.

"I failed you," he choked. "I'm so sorry. I couldn't keep you safe."

China didn't say anything this time. He just waited patiently for Russia to finish.

"I should have protected you," he wept. "I should have fought them off. I should have not cared if I had been shot, da? But I cowered. I allowed myself to be restrained. I-I thought I was capable, but I allowed them to tear you right out of my hands…"

He looked down at his pale fingers, gulping heavily and trying to swallow the massive lump in his throat.

"They…" he muttered, "they look like… big, good, strong hands… da?"

China leaned away from him and took one of his 'big, good, strong' hands in his own thin and petite ones.

"They are as strong as they need-aru," he stated.

He reached up and wiped the tears away from Russia's soft cheeks and straightened his scarf.

"I think I should let you know," he said, "that you forgot something-aru."

"I did?" Russia said, confused as to what he could have neglected. "But I didn't have anything else to talk about-"

He fell silent as China placed a finger on his lips, a cheeky smile spreading across his face.

"Traditional Russian greeting?" he said questioningly.

What? But the traditional Russian greeting was…

Oh.

Oh.

Well… it wasn't exactly what he had come here for. He had wanted to be able to talk to China, to confide in him and explain his feelings, to find comfort when he needed it and offer it in return…

But what was wrong with having a little fun?

He leaned forward, allowing himself a playful smile, and as the surrounding lanterns finally ran out of fuel, he kissed China on the lips.