Sunflowers were beautiful, no? A smiling flower, happy. They brighten up the room, with bright golden petals, warm brown centers, and rich green leaves. They were majestic, beautiful. It reminded Russia of sunbeams, of a warmth he rarely felt. It reminded him of closeness, and he imagined that that feeling was what if felt like to have someone care. It was gentle touches and comfort, a haven from his bosses.

He could imagine that he was far, far, away, and not being punished by his bosses. He could pretend that he had no mask. He could pretend that there were no scars. Russia could pretend he was free.

Russia had first developed his love for sunflowers when he was under the Mongolian Empire. He had been beaten as usual, barely conscious in a blizzard. Then, as the winds blew, he saw a flash of yellow. A splash of color besides red on the snow... his fuzzy mind thought it was the sun. Desperately reaching out, ignoring his screaming body, arm stretched. He was so, so, close to touching it. A stab of pain went through him, causing Russia to jerk instinctively; his hand brushed a soft surface, and he grabbed it. Bringing it close to his face, Russia wondered at the marvel in front of him. It was so beautiful... a flower that looked like the sun... He could practically feel the warmth radiating off of it. The snow surrounding him seemed to temporarily melt, a blanket of sunshine seemingly enveloping him. Huddling around the flower, his eyes drooped, and Russia finally went unconscious.

From then on, he saw the flower as a relief. He imagined it when he was lonely. He imagined it when he was sad. He imagined it when he was forced to stay up for days upon days working. He imagined it to ignore ailments.

Still, it had limitations. He had limited contact with other nations, forced to stay near his boss. No matter how much he tried, it couldn't replace real people. When in severe pain, it was nearly impossible to go in his mind and see the flower. And his bosses loved torture... Nevertheless, the smiling flower was one of the few factors of keeping Russia's sanity intact, shards held together with an old glue.

Sunflowers not only kept his sanity from tearing into shreds, but also was a food source. If he had absolutely no food, he could eat the seeds of the flower, make sunflower butter, and spread it on some old, moldy bread, or simply eat the stalk and leaves.

Russia received a sunflower from Ukraine, an apology gift for not being able to come over to visit. Placing it in an old vase, he put it on his creaky nightstand. Therefore, if he woke up due to nightmares and began to have a panic attack, Russia could look at the flower and begin to calm down.

... Russia shot up, shivers wracking his body. He saw too familiar shadows, leaders he once had, and his present day leader. He tried to take a breath, but to his terror, he couldn't. His lungs refused to take in air. Desperately looking around his bedroom, Russia's eyes met the sunflower on his nightstand. Realizing where he was, Russia began to relax, air slowly flowing back to his lungs. He was safe; his bosses weren't to come until the day after.

Laying back down, Russia looked at the dim outline of his wrists. He could just barely make out the scars that encircled them, but the memories made it bright as day. ..His wrists were bound by iron and chained to a wall; as he shifted, the chains made a clanking sound, and the metal chafed the already torn open skin. He looked at the intimidation man in front of him, tall and imposing. A crack rang through the air. Sighing, Russia curled his hands into fists, before shifting his attention once more to the sun shaped plant. The darkness seemed to make the flower glow. It'd be nice to have a dream about a sunflower again.

Sometimes, if he was lucky enough, he could see a sunflower blowing in the breeze in his dreams. If he was extremely lucky, a very, very rare occurrence, he would be in an entire field of them. Once, he had even had the other nations with him; Lithuania and his sisters, China and his Shinatty-Chan, even Prussia had joined, his maniacal laughter echoing throughout the field.

It was bittersweet; it was something that he had long yearned for, yet it could only be achieved in the rarest of dreams.

If he could have an entire night of peaceful sleep, that would be enough for now. To not wake up in the middle of the night, mouth open in a silent scream. Yes, that would be amazing; if only it could happen... if only...

It was spring now, snow beginning to melt. Birds gained the courage to chirp, huddled together with their partner. The sun was in the sky, scattering the clouds away. Slowly but surely, the snow would become a manageable amount. Life began anew; buds grew on trees, patches of grass becoming more even, animals being born. Flowers were beginning to pop up, all varying in colors, shapes, and sizes. This included the large flowers that Russia loved. He would have to wait a while longer, however, until the soil had thawed completely, once the air had warmed.

Then, he could begin to plant seeds. No matter how many seeds Russia planted, only a few flowers would manage to grow in the harsh soil. Nevertheless, Russia would continue to nurture those select few flowers, until they were in full bloom. The small garden Russia had would be bathed in colors, bordering the Siberian forests. Animals would come to sniff at his garden; sly foxes and curious wolves, little rabbits and chirping birds. Russia liked to imagine that they were admiring it, marveling at the life that refused to go out.

Russia hummed as he watered his garden, mask let down. The garden was very small, but it was living; Russia thumbed a leaf of a sochi tea plant, humming in approval of the rich green color. A sunflower was sprouting next to it, a pale yellow bud forming; soon enough, the flower would bloom, revealing golden leaves.

Russia let out a small smile as he stood up, brushing the soil off of his pants. He had two days off from his boss, and could relax. Quiet days of resting, regaining lost energy. He had taken a walk through the forest next to his home, worked on his knitting, and tended to his garden thus far; perhaps he could call someone to come over and visit. He doubted anyone would accept the offer, but one could try.

Either way, it was nice to have a couple of days to himself. Looking up at the darkening clouds above him, Russia gave a sad smile. He felt isolated, but it was alright. It was all he had ever known.

Sunflowers were all he had.

Kind of an awkward place to end, I know. Nevertheless, please tell me what you all think! Reviews make me happy.