The next chapter is here! Sorry, this one is a bit short.

Going shopping tomorrow! ( none of you care, but I'm so happy! Maybe I'll find a Hetalia bracelet or something )!

Yekaterina groped for her brother's hand. "Ivan, don't go wandering off. It's dangerous."

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright."

But was he really sorry? Sometimes danger seemed thrilling. Sometimes war excited him – brought him a sense of authority. He had none, that he knew. Was it wrong to feel this way? He felt almost glorious when he stood over dead bodies, even though he hadn't killed them. Yekaterina gave him a quizzical look.

"Are you okay?"

"Da."

"Oh, sweetheart. I know it's tough. I know what you're thinking. We'll get out of this mess soon enough. We'll find our happy place. Surrounded by fields of flowers basked in sunshine."

The thought lit his heart. "Will we all be there? In that happy place?"

"Yes."

A man stumbled towards them. As he neared, he shoved the young Ukranian, who dropped her sack of potatoes.

"Watch where you're going bitch!"

Yekaterina picked up the fallen food. Ivan helped her, his expression placid while a storm brewed within him. Who was he to push his sister? And the word he used – it seemed to have a negative effect. He looked up at her face; tears slid down her cheeks.

"There's the park. You can go play if you want."

"Who was that man?"

"A stranger. I don't know."

Ivan brushed a snowflake from her hair. "Take care."

No more words were exchanged. The boy hurried for the swings, his scarf flapping behind him. When he got to the swings, however, someone had already occupied it. A man stood behind the swing thief, pushing the boy back and forth. The boy was small, younger than him even. The adult took care to place him in the enclosed swing where nothing but the child's legs and arms dangled out.

Ivan hovered by the pole, waiting his turn.

"Oh! Hello!"

Ivan realized the man was addressing him. "Privyet."

"Excuse me?"

"It means 'hello' in Russian. I'm sorry, are you not from around here?"

"No. I'm on official business here. I'm. . ." he hesitated, deciding not to disclose any political matters with a child.

The boy in the swing contorted his face. "Faster! Faster!"

Ivan noted the odd curl that jutted out from the kid's hair. Both were dark-haired and had an accent. The boy kicked his legs and raised his arms high. "Get me out!"

In a few seconds, he was removed from the swing and set on the ground. The parent or brother – Ivan couldn't tell what he was, flipped his ponytail. Amber eyes latched onto the youngster for a moment before he smiled. "Are you all alone?"

"No. My mommy's over there."

Yekaterina stood watching them from a nearby Oak. She beckoned him over.

"I'll see 'ya!"

Just as Ivan was departing, something slipped around his neck and went fluttering off. His scarf! Filled with sudden dread, he whipped around to see the foreign boy with his item. His heart turned to lead and dropped into his stomach. "Give that back!"

The adult had his back turned. He was conversing with another stranger.

"Meep!"

Ivan recoiled at the other's fleshy tongue. How dare he taunt him! Before he knew it, the boy was sprawled on the ground screaming and his hands were tainted in fresh blood. It dripped into the snow, turning it black. Yekaterina grabbed his arm and steered him away. Ivan found himself pressed against the alley wall, his sister's hand pressed against his mouth.

"What did I tell you about. . .about fighting? You. . .don't know who anyone is anymore. You don't know who that man is."

She was struggling for breath. Ivan noticed she had forgotten the potatoes.

"Lunch, mommy."

"No, you listen to me Ivan. You listen real close."

"Lunch," Ivan whined.

She ignored him as he attempted to pry her hands off. "Ivan!"

"The potatoes! Lunch, mommy, you forgot!"

Her fist swung and collided into his cheek. Ivan was stunned. Violet eyes widened as he pushed himself away from her. What was this beast?

"Ivan. . ."

What did it want with him?

"You ugly, useless, worthless child! I know what I did. You deserved it. That and the fact you won't be eating tonight."

Her face had become misshapen again, the way it usually did when she spoke like this. Ivan began to wail. Yekaterina's eyes widened.

"Shh, shh. I'm sorry."

Suddenly, she grabbed him and squeezed him against herself, rocking back and forth in an attempt to console him. Footsteps neared. Came closer. Crunched gravel. Disappeared.

"Mommy?"

Yekaterina looked down at him and felt guilt stab her in the chest. A welt had formed on his cheek, growing more purple by the minute. "What have I done?" she whispered, too traumatized to even recognize his usual friendliness emerge again. How forgetful his mind was sometimes. Either that or he was exceptionally forgiving. He clambered onto her lap and giggled.

"You're normal!"

What did he mean by that? Yekaterina dropped the thought and cradled him in her arms as she journeyed home.

Ivan's thumb was slippery wet when they arrived home; he realized he had been sucking on it. Inside, the temperature remained several degrees below comfort level. Natalya lunged at her sister, crushing her leg like a vice as she hollered indecipherable words at her brother.

"Easy now," Yekaterina gently nudged her younger sibling away.

"Where's the food?" Natalya chewed on a rusty spoon.

"Oh dear!"

"You forgot?" Natalya screeched, although she remained planted to her seat. Deep down, she must have understood.

The three had no dinner that night. As Yekaterina tucked them into bed the second day without dinner, she felt the guilt pull at her heartstrings. It was all her fault her siblings were starving. Reality slapped her hard in the face for the thousandth time that day. She was beginning to doubt her own strengths. How much would she endure before the dam broke? She served as a role model to her brother and sister. If they saw her weak, pessimism would follow forth.

"I'm hungry."

Yekaterina jumped out of her thoughts. "Oh, Ivan. I'm so sorry about today. I really am."

"It's okay."

They both sat quietly, listening to the sound of Ivan's ravenous stomach.

"Mommy?"

"Yes?"

"I don't feel so good. I think. . .it's because of the person I snacked on. Could that be it?"

"No," Yekaterina pushed back his bangs and pressed a hand to his forehead. "Well, I don't know. I think you're just hungry. We'll try again tomorrow."

"Okay."

He snuggled into her arms as she embraced him and his sister. His stomach may be empty, but at least with his family locked into a tight hug, he wasn't cold. At least warmth spread to the tips of his fingers. Maybe he would even play tomorrow. The idea seemed wonderful. The swings, park, make new friends. Then, Ivan remembered something important.

"Sister?"

"Yes?" Yekaterina mumbled, her eyes still closed.

"I forgot my scarf at the park."

I know this is quite repetitive so far, but it will pick up later to present time. More bloodshed, blah blah. America comes in soon! :3