Russia x Reader - Childish Cruelty: Little Suns

"So that's what happened?"

"Yeah. Something's wrong with Al. I mean seriously."

"Don't worry, love, it won't be long until I come back. Just three more days."

"Yeah, fine. But really, I've never seen him acting that way. He even called the boy "Commie"... and what's that anyway? So... Please check if anything is wrong with Al, or at least call him."

"Promise, love," Arthur chuckled and you felt like your worries was quite silly. "Though, I don't think anything is wrong with Alfred. Actually, if you want to, I'll explain everything to you right now. I just don't want you to stay up late..."

"Oh, that. Art, quit being all big brother-like!"

A short pause.

"Fine. Mind you, I knew all these because that gossiping Frogface told me - and I didn't even ask him, that stupid French fry, he ate up all my time..."

"Art, don't rant if you want me to go to bed early. Just tell me already!"

Another short pause, then came Arthur's sigh.

"You see, Ivan Braginski is of Russian descendants. That would explain why Alfred called him a "Commie", slang for "Communist" - I hope you still remember the history lessons about Russia and all," Arthur chuckled at your impatient "hmph", and continued in a dead serious tone. "He looks harmless enough, but don't you wonder why he transferred in right in the middle of the year like this? Well, they said he originally lived in another big city, but he was expelled from many schools since secondary because he is really violent. No school there accepted him so he had to be sent to our school - his family probably thought that since our town is small we wouldn't have known anything. He may normally be quite friendly, but if someone says something that upsets him, he'd beat that one up. Rumors had it that one of his victims was hospitalized for nearly two months. I've also heard that he used to torture and kill animals, and then hide them in his house, but personally I don't believe this - and even if it's true, the boy wouldn't be able to do it anymore now that he had moved to our town. However, the scariest thing about Ivan was that nobody has a clue to what may trigger his darker side. Normal insults only make him sad or gloomy. And there were never any witness when he beat those children before. So many people know what he's done that he never had any friends. I don't know well myself, love, because I never met him, but I suggest you don't come too close to him. Those may be rumors, but hey, why would there be rumors if he didn't do anything of the sort? ..._______? _______, hello? Are you still there?"

"...Yes, Art," you tried hard to hide the shuddering of your voice. "I'm just... a bit surprised. He doesn't look like someone who could do such things, though I admit he could be quite... scary..."

So he was not just moody, but he was actually a psycho, at least according to the flying rumors. And while his reputations as an unpredictable, violent teenage boy was so well known that he couldn't even make friends, you accepted him as one. How could you be so careless? How could you actually befriend someone you had never known just because he looked innocent? You felt so stupid. You feared the worst that could happen to you.

"Love, you alright?"

"Yes... I feel a bit dizzy... May be I haven't fully recovered from the fever yet. Don't worry Art, I just need some rest..."

"Okay...", your Brit friend said hesitantly. "Good night, love."

"You too, Art."

Curling up into a ball under your blanket, you felt chills running down your spines as Arthur's words turned inside your head.

...the scariest thing about Ivan was that nobody has a clue to what may trigger his darker side...

---

"_______?"

That Russian accent.

Classes were over, and no one else was in the class. Trying to suppress the unconscious fear crawling to your mind, you turned around and managed to give him your fullest smile possible at the moment.

"Yes, Ivan?"

He continued to fidget, his eyes glued to his moving fingers. Not looking up at you, he mumbled something and looked to the side. Strangely he reminded you of your little cousin who told you he stole Grandma's cookie.

The image was too adorable for a psycho, you thought.

"Ivan? I can't quite hear you. Could you please repeat what you just said, and this time a bit louder?"

"...do you hate me?"

Your eyes widened at the question. More out of pity rather than fear - although fear was the more appropriate emotion considering what Arthur had told you about the boy standing in front of you - you answered:

"No, of course not! We're friends. Why do you ask?"

He said again, his voice small and sad. He looked so pitiable, and much too sweet for someone with a psychotic personality.

"I thought you were avoiding me."

In fact, you were. From what Arthur had said, this boy was not safe to be with. Still, you couldn't help but stole glances at him during the classes you both shared - and coincidentally you both were in many same classes.

You cleared your throat awkwardly. It was getting hard. You were a bad liar, but you couldn't tell the boy the truth. You were afraid that his violent side might show up, but more than that, you... You didn't want to hurt his feelings.

"Why would I do such a mean thing to my friend?"

Ivan's face seemed to light up at the word "friend". It was bizarre how you could actually feel his happiness radiating from him. Perhaps he was one of the people who could easily influence others.

"So... is there anything else? If not then I-"

"Yes, I... I want to show you something..."

Your heart thumped against your rib cage, and cold sweats started to wet your hands that were clutching the big backpack. Oh God, oh no, what in the world would Ivan want to show you, his "friend"? Arthur said this boy used to torture little animals... and hide them... What if he wanted to show you those things? Paranoid fear starting to invade your mind, you remembered the thriller and horror movie you watched as well as reality shows. What if not only he wanted to show you his little "collection"... but he also wanted... you?

"You... You don't want to?"

His small, hesitant voice snapped you out of your creative imagination. You looked up and met those eyes again - those bright, innocent eyes, sparkling that special shade of light purple, hinted with sadness at the moment. Before you realized, you lips moved by itself and let the words slipped:

"Of course I do!"

Then came that smile. You gave in, and followed him. Mentally checking for things in your backpack that could possibly be used to defend yourself against any danger - you forgot your pepper spray but there was a new sharp paper knife on the side pocket - you had to run a bit to keep up with his long strides.

The two of you made your way out of the school, then turned and walked past several blocks. Occasionally Ivan would turn to you, the corner of his mouth pulled up playfully as he gave you an encouraging grin. You could hear him humming a happy tune, as his strides gradually became skips.

The way he expressed his joyful mood was very childlike.

After about fifteen minutes, you found yourself in front of a small park. You let out a small "Oh!" when you realized it was the park you used to came and play when you were younger. The place had been abandoned for years; weeds and wild flowers grew over rotten ornament trees that couldn't survive without human care, while lianas climbed and curled all over the gateway. But, surprisingly, the place gave a calm, peaceful feeling - and of course, the nostalgia. For a moment you left all your worries behind the gate and let Ivan led the way.

It was breathtaking, that scenery at the back of the park. The landscape lawn, no longer carefully trimmed since long ago, was magnificently beautiful in its own wild, carefree way. Sunrays glided past the grass that were left, the weeds, and formed an almost surreal path of light to the middle of the lawn. There, was a plot where wild sunflowers stood fiercely. It was incredible how they stood still, beaming as ever, when the frosty fingers of winter was still lingering in every corner of your town.

That mix of brilliant, lively citrine together with milder golden honey positively captivated your eyes at the very first glance. Drops of bright sunlight landed on the petals of the flowers that always turn towards the sun with pride. They might be wild, but they were the most beautiful sunflowers you had ever seen. You didn't recall any memories about them when you were small, however, probably due to the fact that you normally only played in the front of the park.

"The sun sure is lonely, da?"

Ivan had already crossed the lawn, and was kneeling beside the sunflowers, a finger lightly petting the petals. Clumsily you stepped on the weeds, a bit awkward at first, and came next to him.

"Why do you say so, Ivan?"

Not looking back at you, he continued in his soft, happy tone, while the melancholy quietly found its way in his words.

"The sun is big and warm, he even shares the warmth with others. But he is always far away up there, so far that people can't show him their gratitude... And then they would eventually forget about him. He must be really lonely."

"Ivan..."

"But these flowers are different, and that's why I love them!", Ivan smiled to you. "They always look at the sun. They know that it is because of the sun that they live, and probably even want to become one with the sun, too!"

Before you could open your mouth to say something, he bent down and picked up a fully bloomed sunflower, then handed it to you. He lightly placed his big hand on your head - which made your cheeks immediately stung with heat and flushed pink.

"Back in my hometown, there were also Little Suns like these, but bigger. It was freezing cold all years, and I had to do many things to keep the flowers alive in my small garden," he chuckled. "Still, it was worth it, because just looking at them make me feel warm. They were some kind of friends to me, I guess, but I'm not sure. I never had friends before. Tell me _______, what does it feel like to have a friend?"

He looked happy, his tone was happy, but that only made what he said more heartbreaking. He said something that terrible so light-heartedly, so casually, as if it was destined to be that way. How much had he been suffering the whole time? You felt your heart melting.

"A friend... W-Well, a friend will laugh with you when you're happy and let you cry on their shoulder when you're sad. Y-You can share your secrets with your friend without worries. And you'll... you'll do the same for that friend. Uhm... that's all I've got."

"Oh, really."

An awkward silence. A cold wind blew past you two, sending dead leaves and old dust flying in spirals. You were shivering although you closed your arms tight around your own torso, and regretted not wearing another sweater like your mother had told you to.

All of a sudden, Ivan pulled you to his chest, embraced your body in a warm hug.

"Did I make you feel warm?"

Somehow you still managed to utter some syllables. "Y-Yes."

"Do friends give each other warmth?"

"I-I think..."

"Then I really am your friend now, da?"

He smiled like a poor little child who had just received a toy for the first time in his life. In some way, it was true.

"Sure, Ivan. You are my friend, and I am your friend."

"No matter what happens?"

The "Little Suns" swayed in the wind, waving their warm, radiant yellow petals, rustling impatiently as if urging you to answer. Once again Arthur's voice echoed in your mind. But at the same time, you could hear Ivan telling you about his past.

Even if Ivan had a horrible personality like Arthur said, who said you couldn't help him?

And life is about taking risks after all, right? Especially when it meant you would be able to help someone so pitiable.

"Yes, no matter what happens."

Next: Crumbled