A/N: Back, after like, 10,000 years. Well okay, maybe not that long. xD But anyway! This is a dedication to my most favorite pairing, Russia/China. Hell, my obsession for this pair won't wane anytime. I hope y'all out there enjoy my comeback! And just a note: I'm using their human names coz I think it sounds more… personal. xD;;; So yeah. But this fic is still featuring the nations China and Russia. (Also, you'll know why this is titled 'Sunflower' later. It's not evident in the first chapter, but it will be.)

Disclaimer: This is in no way trying to be historically accurate, nor does this fic represent the real thoughts of the people of either China or Russia. Oh, and Hetalia does not belong to me. If it did, RussiaChina would have been declared canon a long time ago.

Sunflower

A field stained with blood.

An ideology stained with blood.

It's us, only us, against the world.

Or is it?

I am alone in the cold night.

Early 1950s: Good Times

The sky was a dreary gray, though with no sign of any more snowfall. The undesirable frozen liquid left its mark in the night, leaving the surroundings enveloped in a mass of cotton-like white. Snow. How he hated the snow.

Ivan was walking through his land, the vast land of what was then known as the Soviet Union, eager to get out. It was always snowing day in and day out. This weather was depressing, bringing down his mood every time he sees the land covered with this blinding white mass. At least he was going to Yao's house…

Arriving at Chinese territory, which was significantly warmer and more inviting, he smiled his usual smile as he went up to the door, knocking on the hard wood. He was truly excited for another day to spend with his comrade, for both business and personal reasons.

A small crash and a hurried 'eep' came from inside the house as he heard some more shuffling of bare feet moving along the wooden floors. A few minutes later, Yao's cheerful face bounded into view as he opened the door wide; however, his face soon fell as he saw Ivan standing on the doorstep, smiling like there was no tomorrow.

"Ah, it's you, aru." Yao couldn't help but sound semi-apprehensive as he opened the door to let the other in. However, that did not deter Ivan from giving Yao the customary greeting hug, which he didn't fail from doing. "Aiyaaa, let me go, aru!" Yao tried to pull away, though half-heartedly.

"Ah, it's nice to see you, comrade!" Ivan exclaimed happily as he all but picked up the smaller man. "I have not seen you in so long, da?"

"We saw each other yesterday, aru!" Yao protested as he tried to free himself from the bigger man's crushing grip. If it wasn't for the good relations of their countries right now, he wouldn't even think of letting Ivan hug him, much less let him into his house.

Ivan finally put Yao down, smiling down at him. "I know, comrade, but it feels like so long ago. What are you doing today?"

Yao pouted, smoothing his clothes that had become partially wrinkled after his comrade's bear hug. "I was preparing for your arrival, aru. I knew that you were going to visit today so I cooked lun— OH! I'M STILL COOKING, ARU!" That said, a flash of red was soon seen as China rushed back to the kitchen, and soon thereafter frantic sounds of ladle upon wok was heard.

Ivan knew better than to disturb China when he's cooking as he shuffled off to the living room, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Thanks to the thriving relationship between their bosses, both Yao and Ivan could go into each other's territory without being stopped. Ivan really enjoyed these times; having close ties with his fellow communist neighbor somehow brought a pleasant feeling to him. And not in the "hee, I have someone I can control, kolkolkolkol" way that he feels whenever he's around the Baltic nations. This one is a feeling of true comradeship, and establishment of a relationship between equals, in a give-and-take scenario. Yes, Yao was his partner.

A few minutes later, Yao's face poked from behind the kitchen door. "Lunch is ready, aru! Go to the dining room and I'll serve the meal, aru!" After saying this, he disappeared into the kitchen again before Ivan could even say a word. Blinking a bit, Ivan couldn't help but smile as he moved over to the dining room, sitting on a chair. It seemed China, too, has adopted the western style of dining, as there are now tables and chairs instead of a small coffee table and some pillows to sit on. Ah, the waves of modernization.

"Alright, uhm… i-it's here, aru…" Yao was somewhat shy as he walked into the dining room, a tray of dishes in his arms. "I-I hope you'll like the meal, aru…" To Ivan's surprise, it was not the usual Chinese food that was laid out before him; it was actually Russian food: Pelmeni, Shchi, and even Piroshki. Ivan blinked at the food, then looked back at Yao, who was looking anywhere and everywhere but him, fiddling with his hands.

"Yao-kun… why… how did you…?" Ivan stared at the food, almost reluctant to eat it, as it was too pretty to look at. He realized just how much of a sacrifice this would have been for Yao, as he probably had to research the recipes and looked for the ingredients, which must not have been readily available as Russian food uses different ingredients than Chinese food. What time did he even wake up just to cook this?

"Uhm…." Yao replied slowly and quietly, staring down at his hands, his face flushed a bit. "I figured since you always came for a visit here that you'd appreciate eating your own food, so I looked up how to cook these, aru. Why, i-is there something wrong with it, aru?"

Ivan shook his head quickly, then grabbed a spoon and tasted the Shchi. It had a little bit of Chinese flavor, as expected, but otherwise the taste mostly kept true to his Russian taste buds. "This is perfect, Yao-kun! I never thought you could cook Russian food!"

The Chinese flushed as red as the clothes he was wearing as he quickly spooned food onto his plate and stuffed his mouth to cover his shyness and embarrassment. "…Th-thank you, a-aru…"

"What made you cook Russian food, Yao-kun?" Ivan asked as he observed Yao's every reaction, amused. It was truly heartwarming to be the only one who could see this side of Yao. To the rest of the world, Yao is the communist giant, a thriving partner of the mighty Ivan. He was a superpower on the other side of the spectrum, going against the democratic giant Alfred, threatening to topple the balance between communism and democracy, socialism and capitalism… if there ever was a balance in the first place. In short, Yao is a powerful communist country standing by the side of Ivan, despite how petite, unintimidating, and girlishly delicate he might look.

"L-like I said, a-aru… I just thought you'd appreciate eating your own food, since you always eat Chinese food whenever you come over, aru…" Yao, the powerful communist giant, feared by the world for his rapid development and connections with Ivan, was hiding his face behind his sleeve out of shyness and embarrassment. It was almost too ironic to laugh at.

With a knowing smile, Ivan silently ate his food as he made sure to savor each bite, completely taking in the fact that Yao had done this just for him. He was happy, glad that he alone stands as Yao's equal, ally, comrade, partner, and confidante.

A few minutes of animated conversation were exchanged between the two of them as they ate, talking about the weather, their bosses, their ideologies, and basically anything that came to mind. Both increasingly grew more comfortable with the other, breaking the all too noticeable tension that was between them, especially on Yao's part.

However, there was also that unspoken feeling, that hidden spark that cannot, must not, be kindled. A swift glance at each other, amethyst orbs meeting hazel ones for a brief second, then quickly looking away.

Homosexuality was condemned in both of their empires. Imprisoned and ostracized from society, these people were persecuted because they did not conform to society's expectations. If this was the situation, how much harder would it be for the both of them, the embodiment, the symbol of their people? Giving in to the feelings they have long harbored for one another would be destroying the image of their nation, their bosses, and their ideologies. No, this must be something that must be kept to themselves, like dust hidden away in the dark corner.

Finishing up, Yao stood up from the table, cleaning up the dishes." Go to the living room, aru. I'll be right with you to discuss issues we might have, aru."

Shaking his head, Ivan smiled as he, too, rose from the table and grabbed a dish. "No, I'll help you, da?" Before Yao could even protest, Russia had gone to the kitchen to bring the dishes that he could grab. Shaking his head in amusement, Yao followed soon after and moved over to the sink and started washing, occasionally giggling at a soap bubble that floats and pops. However, it wasn't long before he became too aware of the piercing stare that was directed at his back.

What… what's he staring at me for, aru? Yao thought, panicked, as he became more noticeably tense. This is unnerving, aru…

Ivan was sitting on a chair in the kitchen, staring, just staring, at his communist comrade. Watching and taking in his every movement, the ever-present smile still on his face, Ivan was completely silent. However, without warning, he soon moved from his chair and went over to Yao, hugging him tenderly from behind, which caused Yao to almost drop the plate he was holding in surprise.

"I-Ivan, aru? Wh-what's wrong, aru?" Yao visibly tensed at the contact, tilting his head to look back over at Ivan. However, what he saw was not his usual childish smile; instead, it was a solemn, contemplative look, almost as if… as if he was longing to say something, something that could very well change their whole relationship, and their whole lives as nations. It was a look that screamed everything he knew Ivan was holding inside, and everything he himself held inside as well no matter how much he did not want to admit it.

"Hmmm? Nothing… I just wanted to hug Yao-kun… there's nothing wrong with it, da?" Ivan's voice was soft, melancholic, devoid of its characteristic childishness. His tone was sad, burdened in a way as if Yao would be taken away from him any minute, or as if they were going to split up at some point. No, Ivan was not happy, no matter how he appeared to be. He was not happy, not contented, that all he can do is talk to Yao, hug him occasionally despite the other's protests, and discuss nothing but business and strategies. No, Ivan wanted love, and they both knew that.

"I-Ivan, a-aru…. It would be best if you let go of me now, aru. We never know who might be watching, aru…" Yao said in as gentle and comforting a voice that he could muster, hoping that Ivan would not take what he had just said in a personal way. After all, this was a communist state: one never knows who might be watching them, not even the nations themselves. Ivan nodded slowly, and pulled away swiftly and went back to the other side of the kitchen as if nothing had happened. Yao continued to wash the dishes, and the kitchen was then filled with an eerie silence. A silence between them that seemed to last forever, a silence that made it seem like they were a thousand miles apart, a silence that rang loudly in their ears, convicting them that everything might be too late, that this silence might become permanent at some point, and yet they can't do anything about it.

"I-Ivan, aru…" Yao finally broke the silence, bringing them both back to reality, letting them bask in the feeling that they were, indeed, only a few feet apart and not a thousand miles as it currently felt. Yao took a deep breath, and said the next few words very quietly it was as if he was speaking to the ant that was busily crawling up the sink in front of him. "…Well… How do you really feel about me, aru? I mean… I mean… not business or comrade wise, aru… Just, how do you feel about me, as Wang Yao, aru…?"

He wanted to know. He wanted to know because, if the silence between them should become forever, if the distance between them should indeed become a thousand miles, he wanted to be left with the thought of knowing what Ivan really felt about him, what he really thought of him as Wang Yao, not China. One never knows what might happen in a few years. Their relationship was too good, everything between them was all too good. He couldn't help but think that something will come to tear it all apart, like a hurricane passing by a peaceful, fertile land.

Ivan was stunned for a few moments, staring at the wall beside him, refusing to even look at the other. Well, what was he supposed to say? Sure, this was a chance to tell the other what he had really kept bottled inside. However, nothing, no circumstance in this present world would allow him to tell Yao what he really thought of him. It would just further complicate matters. He had to lie.

"What I think of Wang Yao-kun?" Ivan smiled that childish smile again that could scare the crap out of a grown man. "To me, Wang Yao-kun and China are no different. We are business partners and comrades, da? We should never affiliate our personal feelings and matters into business."

Ivan had not meant for his lie to come out as harsh as that, but somehow his brain and mouth moved of its own accord before he could even comprehend what he was saying. However, words are powerful, and it is the one thing that once given out, could never be taken back.

And needless to say, Yao felt as though he was hit by a big rock on the head and shot through the heart when he heard those very words leave the Russian's lips. Had he been wrong all this time, then? Then what of that hug, of that look? Was he the only one who had been longing for the other, then? Were the feelings truly not mutual?

It is said that only seven percent of what a person truly feels is communicated through words. The bigger percentage is left to tone and body language. Yao tried to look for confirmation on this, and true enough, he interpreted that childish, creepy smile as not caring, as something fueling what the Russian communist had previously said.

Oh.

"I… I see, aru…" Yao replied simply as he nodded slowly, his own face turning back to its serious, business-like demeanor. "Thank you for telling me, Ivan. I shall be keeping that in mind… Shall we?" Yao wiped his hands on the kitchen rag, then gestured for Ivan to go out with him to the living room to discuss business matters.

Resisting the urge to break down and take back everything he had said, Ivan assumed a stony air as his smile covered up what he was really feeling. "Of course, Yao-kun. I was wondering when you would be finished."

Love.

Longing.

Pain.

I am truly alone, in this desolate place enveloped with snow.

Notes: Pelmeni, Shchi, and Piroshki are some of the more common everyday Russian foods, according to my research.

Well, that's done! Hope you all enjoyed my comeback! Second chapter coming soon :D Reviews make this author update faster~! ;D