Hetalia Oneshots

Fallen Angels (NK x Russia)

Requested by: @N-Korea

Warning: Gay and Angsty. This is not a real story, therefore, the situation is made up. Do not get offended.

Dai stared at the ground. The night was almost as dark and empty as he felt. He was fighting the one he had never been against. It was that American's fault. They set this up, and he was sure of it.

The smell of death and guns overwhelmed his senses. It would've made him deaf too, if it weren't for his soundproof headphones. The only sounds it let in were the orders his boss was giving him.

He peaked out from behind the mound he'd been using as a shield for do long. He aimed at a solider on the opposing side and fired. Another life was added to his conscious. He would think about that moment for ages, replaying it later instead of sleeping.

Every life he ended with the bullets in his gun was remembered, and they would haunt him. But it was for his country. He hated the sounds of grenades going off, the bombs dropping from fighter planes somewhere. The soundproof headphones only do so much for someone who had fought wars without them and knew the sounds without even hearing them.

The sky was grey with smoke. Dead bodies, on both sides, littered the ground. Dai panted as he ran from hiding place to hiding place, only able to take a few shots at each since he wanted to stay as safe as possible.

He could've sworn the same solider was following him. He'd seen the same person over and over again, no matter where he moved. He growled the fifth time he saw the opposing solider. It definitely wasn't a coincidence.

Due to his soundproof headphones, he couldn't hear the fighter jets nearing. He only noticed they were there when one dropped about the length of a basketball court away from him.

Dai looked around at the city that the war had claimed as a battlefield. There were raging fires, collapsed building, endless corpses, and abandoned things like stray guns, the occasionally family photo, and hope.

This was a gruesomely one-sided battle. The enemy was too strong. No matter how many they killed, more arrived soon after. It was a definite loss, but surrender didn't seem to be happening anytime soon.

Dai scrambled to get as far away from the last bomb as he could, ducking behind a man made mound. He watched the sky, his breath the only thing he could hear at the moment. Well, that and the ringing in his ears.

His mind didn't process the next plane until it had already happened upon him. The bomb whistled towards the ground, as if it were only there for a leisurely stroll in the last stronghold for the collapsing country of North Korea.

Dai took a deep breath and began to shuffle to his next spot, still not noticing the bomb. The world moved in slow motions. His breathing was hard as air became scarce.

He turned to face the other side. Most had ducked for cover, but one loomed over everything. His scarf was pulled down to show his face full of worry.

Dai identified him as the soldier that had been following him. The Korean dropped his gun and the Russian followed his example. Ivan looked at him with terror filled eyes as he sprinted forward to meet him.

The Korean didn't have time to move as the bomb struck the earth and time sped up again. The explosion knocked him back until he slammed into the hard wall of one of the buildings. He crumpled to the ground as the building above him suffered from the blow and began to collapse.

Dai looked up, his head barely responding and blood clouding the vision in one of his eyes. He thought he could see someone trying to walk over to him, but they fell down the moment the blood covered his sight in the other eye.

He screamed bloody murder and rubble fell on top of him. He felt several bones snap or shatter all together under the weight, yet none had fallen on his head to end the pain.

It continued, his screaming, the bones breaking, the pain. That was, until he could feel the boulder-like chucks of building being rolled off of him.

He couldn't see through the blood and tears, but he knew someone was crying over him, thinking him dead. But he couldn't die. Not yet. His last stronghold hadn't fallen.

And with that thought, another bomb was dropped. The rest of his small army ( it had been decreased over time during the fighting) suffered the same fate as he had.

He could faintly make out a hand holding his as they stroked his hair, whispering soft, sweet words.They leaned closer and said in a louder tone, making it so that he could make out their voice.

Their Russian accent whispering," Goodbye." one final time. Then, he was put out of his misery, and the pain ended.