Hetalia One Shots

Russia's Melancholy.

Picture above isn't mine

Borderline ruscan 👌

Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia had left the house for a bit, usually they weren't allowed to leave but Russia trusted they would come back. Russia hid in his bed, trembling, with a blanket over his head. It's likely that Belarus was hiding somewhere, stalking her prey. Russia held his one true friend, his pipe, very close. "Please protect me, magic pipe" Russia whispered through teary eyes. The large man felt a wave of emotion flooding over him. He realised, he might have been tricked by the Baltic states. Could they have used his trust to escape? Those three had always seemed to be scheming something. Russia knew very well that they despised him, but he tried so desperately to hold onto hope they would warm up to him. Now, Russia was alone. Just him, his pipe and his scary little sister who was likely searching the halls meticulously with a sharp weapon in hand. Russia closed his eyes, a few tears rolled down his soft, cold cheeks. He tried to imagine a world where he had friends, but he struggled to grasp that thought. It always ended with bloodshed or screams of people as they ran in terror. For once, Russia wished, that somebody would tolerate him and love him for him. He began whispering through chokes of tears to his pipe. "Oh magic pipe, I wish somebody loved me." Russia lied the pipe down next to him and hugged his knees. "Even Germany can find love, he has that little annoying guy. Why can't anybody love me?" He thought about all his allies, they were supposed to be his friends, they were supposed to support him. All they did at their meetings was argue with each other and fight, and even if they did notice Russia they just called him names. Russia closed his eyes and tried to imagine himself in the life of the other allies, he imagined being included. His heart cried for a life like that, where people liked him. How could people not love him? Why did everyone run? Why was everyone so scared of him?

America had told his brother countless times, "stay away from Russia, he can't be trusted." But Canada couldn't help but to feel a slight amount of pity for the Russian man. The few allies meetings that Canada attended, Russia always seemed to be left out too. But, Russia was so large, he was tall and muscular. How could people not see him? Canada was used to being made feel invisible, he had come to accept that compared to his brother he didn't amount to anything. Did Russia know how it felt to be treated like nobody too? Surely, he didn't feel that way. But Canada still felt, curious? He wanted an answer, and so that's why he was making this trek through the snow to Russia's place. He had to find out for himself what Russia was like, and not just know him from America's lies.

Of course, it was true that Russia was absolutely terrifying. But it was true, the two guys had a bit in common. They both didn't really like America, and they both really like ice hockey. Maybe Russia got left out of everything because everyone was afraid. Canada couldn't help but to feel fear as well as he got closer to Russia's help. Kumajirou was on Canada's shoulder, Kumajirou could feel Canada shaking, but instead of offering help he just asked, "who are you?" Canada sighed,

"I'm Canada!" Kumajirou stared at Canada's blonde hair with visible confusion, but kept his silence. Canada approached the front door of Russia's house. He knocked on the door, his palms were sweaty, Canada was beginning to regret his decisions.

A quiet knocking could be heard on the door, Russia began to worry. Could it be Belarus? It could have been Russia's big sister Ukraine or even the Baltic states deciding they miss him. Russian didn't like his chances, but Belarus was a more of "ill break into your house and slit your throat" person, she wasn't "ill politely knock on the door and ask for tea THEN slit your throat" person. Russia carried his pipe with him to the door, just in case. When Russia opened the door it wasn't one of his sisters and it wasn't even the Baltic states. It was America?

That wasn't right, Russia thought to himself looking at the man nervously standing at his door. America wasn't this shy, even around Russia. The person's hair looked too wavy to be that of Russia's rival. Russia was confused, this person looked just like America. "H-hello Mr Russia. I've just come to say hello.." the man said, he stuttered and his voice was just a whisper. This person was certainly not America, if this was America, he would be yelling and probably shoving food in his mouth while trying to talk. This man, who Russia was sure he had never met before, was very reserved and timid. "Who are you?" Russia asked. The bear on the man's shoulder could surprisingly talk, "I ask myself the same question." The visitor looked awkwardly at the ground. "I'm Canada... it's nice to meet you..." he mumbled. Russia looked at the man with a concerned expression, "can you speak up a bit? I'm a bit hard of hearing sometimes." Canada felt his body shaking nervously.

"I'm Canada!" Canada said a bit louder, but was incapable of shouting. Russia finally understood why this person looked so much like America, it must have been his brother. Russia smiled innocently, which Canada found quite terrifying. "It's very nice to meet you Canada!" Canada nodded slowly, unsure of whether Russia's pleasantness was just a mask. If Russia was genuinely this nice, America must really be a liar. Unless America did something to piss Russia off, which Canada found quite likely. "It's nice to meet you too. Mr Russia." Canada said. Russia laughed a bit, which made Canada even more uncomfortable. "We're friends now, Canada. Just call me Russia!"

Canada nodded slowly.

"Alright, Russia."