Why do we have to hurt each other?

Why do we have to shed tears?

Life can be beautiful… if you try

Life can be joyful… if we try

Tell me

I'm not alone

Tell me

We are not alone in this world

Fighting against the wind


Chapter X

It's been months.

It's been months and nothing's changed.

Russia walked down a road of crushed cement and rusting beams. He held nothing but a shred of bloodstained cloth clenched between his fingers like a lifeline. Today was the first day of April. Three hundred and thirty-eight days ago, he told Toris to be careful, feeling safe for the first time in ten years. One hundred and eighty days later, Toris spoke his last words. In twenty-seven days, it will be one year since everything happened.

But today was today—

--and today was supposed to be beautiful.

"I told you, da? Spring was coming and now it's here." He looked down and spotted a bright green plant sprouting from beneath a pile of charred bricks. It was already blooming with its delicate flowers of yellow. Russia looked back up and continued to talk to the empty air in front of him. "It's unusually warm today, Toris. Is this your doing?"

He spun around in a circle, his scarf billowing around him like a ring. "Your people are doing wonderful," he breathed, laughing. "The sun sets and rises everyday, every year. Time goes on. The plants grow, bloom, and bear fruit. But-" he stopped spinning, the false bliss faded away as quickly as it came, leaving him in a spiritless daze.

"-There is no life."

There is no life in the people.

There is no life in the warm, sunny days.

There is no life in the sunflowers that stand tall and still like scarecrows.

"My people are strong. No one dares to touch us now."

He reached for something underneath his coat and took out a simple Nagant revolver. The black metal was old and dull but the single bullet he slipped into the top chamber was sleek and polished. He stroked the length of the gun, studying it with a fixated fascination.

"They are strong."

He parted his lips and touched the muzzle to the back of his throat.

-x-X-x-

"Everything is over. We've created an armistice and the world has no use for you," Prussia spoke calmly despite the sever abhorrence in his eyes. "You're useless."

"So," he ex-leader sneered up at him from behind bars, "you've finally figured it all out."

Gilbert didn't rise for the bait. Instead, he forced himself to grin, drawing out the conversation to infuriate the man even further. "You made a deal with the former Russian government to split the country if they won the civil war—with your aid of course, but things didn't exactly go your way, now did it? That's why you had your eyes set on Lithuania since the start."

"That's right and Lithuania is dead. I couldn't have done it without your help, Gilbert."

His grin faltered a little. "I admit, you had me fooled with the 'good of your people' bullshit and Lithuania paid the price for it, but I have the whole future to repay my debts. You, however…" He opened up a pocket at his belt, revealing a single-shot pistol. "… might not be so lucky."

"You're going to kill me?" He eyed the gun warily.

Prussia shook his head. "Thousands have burned into nothing by your hands. Too many of my men have died for you and how do you repay them? You slaughter their families in their homes, Hurensohn." He pointed the gun at his former boss, his finger twitching dangerously on the trigger. "No," he said firmly. "As much as I want to, I'm not going to kill you. There won't be any satisfaction with your quick death. You can live on for as long as you'd like."

He tossed the pistol through the bars. It skidded across the floor, resting at his feet. "When you want to end this pathetic life of yours is up to you. Inside is one bullet. Don't waste it," he turned around to leave, "I'm the last human being you'll ever see, so don't depend on anyone to save you. Believe that."

He kept walking until he heard a scuffle. There was the scraping of metal against stone and a gunshot filled the cell. A spark flew from the door frame inches away from Prussia's hand, causing it to vibrate from the sharp impact. For a moment, everything was quiet and still—there was no dying grunt or cry of shock. A long second passed before a dull thud finally resounded throughout the room.

Gilbert smiled to himself, not sparing the dead man another glance.

-x-X-x-

"Are you sure you'll be fine in there by yourself?" Estonia asked him carefully.

Latvia nodded. "Yeah… There's one thing I wanted to do before… before…" We leave here forever.

Estonia seemed to have understood his unspoken words when he nodded. "Okay. I'll wait out here for you."

Latvia muttered a "thank you" before hurrying up to the front door, which happened to have been unlocked when he tried it. Latvia guessed someone must've been here first but he didn't think too much about it.

When he entered, he felt the same welcoming atmosphere of Lithuania's home. He half-expected Lithuania himself to walk through the kitchen doors to greet him with that same smile wearing that same apron with meile spelled across its front. His heart clenched painfully when he was met with nothing but an empty doorway.

Raivis shook his head, willing himself not to get distracted. He made his way towards Lithuania's office where he used to spend most of his days at. The doorknob was coated with dust when he twisted it, opening the French doors to the study.

He walked over to the desk, blocking out the painful memories of Lithuania hunched over stacks of paper, furiously signing each and every one of them. Even with him gone, his never-ending tide of work remained. Latvia breathed deeply, trying to calm himself.

With shaky hands, he withdrew a sprig of rue from his pocket and left it on Toris's desk. When he let the plant sit where it was, he noticed an envelope lying on top of all the paperwork—an envelope addressed to him. Someone else must've left it here for him to discover.

Afraid of what he might find, Latvia took the envelope and opened it. It contained a letter than was smudged with dirt and watermarks. A spot of mud was splattered in the far right corner.

'Dear Raivis,

I got the letter safely, thank you. I feel ashamed for forgetting about the necklace. Feliks would not have been pleased with that, especially when he told me he worked "very hard" for it, which was well… hard to believe at the time, or anytime for that matter. But thank you for keeping it while I was gone.

I'm doing fine. It's getting colder by the day and I want to finish this war by the new year. I figured Eduard would still be angry with me… I don't blame him. Tell him I'm sorry. I promise to make it up to you two when I return home.

Raivis, you have to understand. This is my fight, and my fight alone. Not yours, not Eduard's, and not even Ivan's. Ivan has his share of difficulties and I can't drag him down with me. I know what I'm fighting for and maybe you'll see when the time comes. But for now, you'll just have to bear with me, okay?

Oh, so Mr. America stopped by too? Please send him my apologies. He must know already, but tell him I'm a bit occupied anyways. His information concerns me but I'll have to wait until later when I finish things up. Hopefully there won't be too much trouble until then. How are the other countries faring by chance?

Kaliningrad… My biggest mistake. We're on our way to the city right now and I'm enjoying one of my last days of rest. Liberating what's left of it will be tough I'm guessing, but I'm hoping the division ahead of us will help clear the path. I painfully regret the fact that I didn't fight harder during the first battle. Russia was hurt dearly because of me.

Feliks is not fighting with me. Naturally, I haven't heard anything from him but I can't help but worry. Sincerely, I hope he's all right.

Don't worry over me, though. I'm honestly not worth it, but either way I'll be home soon, I promise. Then things will be back to normal. I look forward to that day.

With Love,
Toris Laurinaitis'

Latvia read the letter over and over again, more tears hitting the surface each and every time. The whole thing was hand-written and the signature still had the same looping L and graceful T to it like every one of Lithuania's signatures. At one point in time, he must have been sitting beside a campfire in the middle of a winter night, writing this letter.

Latvia hugged the letter to his small chest, more tears dripping down his cheeks.

This… This was proof that Toris had lived—that he had existed.

Despite the ache in his heart, Latvia smiled.

-x-X-x-

Russia dropped to his knees, gasping and choking on the air—the revolver remained in his hands as he doubled over, sweat running down his face.

In the end… In the end I cannot go where you have gone, Toris.

Lithuania was the one who weaved himself into his life again, he was the one who was torn straight out, leaving Russia an incomplete shell.

It hurt to live like this but he had no choice. Every second for the past six months was a dagger in his chest but he had no will to stop it. This is what fate had chosen for them. They were never meant to be happy together. It was never possible in the first place—they were doomed from the start.

I'm weak, he thought, I cannot take my own life, even with the hope of seeing your face again. Where you are now is no place for someone like me… But if for only a second, Toris… If I can…

He stood up from his knees and continued on forward, reaching for the sky longingly. A lone bird soared overhead and his gaze followed it as it flew further and further away.

His heart stopped and his eyes widened.

Someone was waving at him, his eyes closed in a gentle smile across his familiar face.

Russia reached after the shade, stumbling blindly over the wreckage. A voice in his head told him that he was not real, that this was merely an illusion—that Lithuania was dead and gone, never to return to him.

Whether it was real or not, Russia didn't care—he was willing to give in to this lie even if it was for a mere moment, even if he had to suffer the aftermath of something such as this

Lithuania didn't move from his spot amidst the rubble. He didn't open his arms to welcome Russia whose hands were just inches away, reaching for him. Instead, looking thoughtful and unconcerned, Lithuania observed his face, studying the fragile glimmer of hope that still shone through.

Russia's mouth was moving but he was afraid to speak. He was afraid his voice would chase this Lithuania away, that if he did as much as blink, this Lithuania would disappear.

Toris shook his head, a hint of sadness lingering in his soft eyes. Though still smiling, he lifted a finger to his lips that formed words he could not hear. His mouth then sealed itself, silently speaking no more. His veridian orbs bored deep into his own thistle irises as if it were his last chance to memorize them.

Russia closed his eyes for nothing more than a fraction of a second-

-and Lithuania was gone.

There were no more tears to shed when Russia crumpled to his knees again, hunched over and hugging his chest to himself. His heart was wrung dry and dead, the warm sun on his back burning like ice (How fitting, he thought, feeling cheated and forsaken). His entire being was ripping in two and there was nothing he could—nothing he wanted to do about it. Shrapnel cut into his knees but he didn't take notice—the pain was nothing compared to this.

He would've stayed like that forever, curled up and absorbed in his own suffering, but something willed him to look up. He obeyed the urge, losing the will of his own.

His lifeless eyes met a curious stare.

Startled, Russia quickly brought the revolver to a child's face, breathing heavily.

The child did not flinch in the slightest—he only continued to gaze up at him with wide eyes, seemingly unaware of the fact that his life could end with the mere pull of a trigger. Russia dropped the gun in horror when he realized what he was doing.

The child's eyes were brighter and more precious than any emerald Ivan had ever seen. Glossy, sepia-colored locks adorned the sides of his face in graceful curves. He was dressed in tattered clothes that matched his surroundings, but his skin was pure and untouched. A slab of amber was strung around his neck, reflecting a golden light on his small chest—Russia recognized the symbol carved into it as Lithuania's seal…

His expression remained inquisitive and innocent, even when Ivan cupped his face with both hands, his famished eyes indulging in the unclouded features.

"I'm so glad you're here," the child said softly, placing his palms over the rough hands. "I wanted to see you…"

His voice, his eyes… they were unmistakable.

"Who are you?" It was a pointless question.

"So you forgot me already?"

"Toris," the child answered brightly, smiling (warm, it was warm just like him) "My name's Toris."

Russia carefully threaded his fingers through the child's hair, feeling the realness of it all. This was no illusion. He was not insane. This child exists. Toris exists.

Doubt still lingered over the bliss that was flooding into his chest. It couldn't be true… This was a dream. At any moment, he will wake up to reality and everything will return to the winter.

But what mattered to Russia now was that he felt like living again. His heart swelled with renewed vitality as he felt euphoria radiate from the other like a pleasant aura.

It was unreal. The emotion welling inside of him was overwheming—it was too much for him to handle in such a short amount of time. It was almost impossible to distinguish it all at once— confusion, disbelief, and happiness barely described the incredible feeling he was experiencing.

The vehemence was getting to him. Something hot and wet gathered in his eyes and Toris leaned forward, wrapping his tiny arms around Ivan's neck as he kissed the tears away. Instead of letting go, he only tightened the embrace. Russia reached up to stroke his head, feeling the precious life that was left in his arms.

"It will be all right."

"Don't cry, Vanya," Toris murmured. Ivan found the aching in his chest ebbing away at the sound of his name. How long had it been? "If you do, the clouds will come and it'll rain." He gave him one more fluttering kiss. "I hate it when people cry."

Russia stood up slowly, taking Toris with him in his arms. His hands were still joined together behind his neck but he didn't mind—he found his touch soothing.

"I'll protect you, Toris," he vowed, "you'll be safe… with me…"

Toris buried his face into his collarbone, nuzzling the scarf. "I'm so happy, Vanya. Vanya is big, and strong, and warm—like the sun…"

You are the sun.

Russia kissed the top of his hair. "… Will you come with me? I can take you home… where everyone is waiting for you, Toris."

"I'd like that… I want to see them again."

He nodded into his chest. "Mhm… I want to go with Vanya so I can protect and keep him safe too. Then we can be happy together again, right?"

"Da. We will… together." The word never sounded more beautiful on his tongue…

… And it was all Toris needed to hear.

-x-X-x-


-x-X-x-

Do you remember the time

when little things made you happy?

Do you remember the time

when simple things made you smile?

Life can be wonderful… if you let it be

Life can be simple… if you try

-x-X-x-


-x-X-x-

Epilogue

"Uncle Al!" The younger nation yelled happily as he latched onto America's middle.

Alfred, startled, patted the brown-haired head. "Hey kiddo, how's it been?" He looked up to see Russia looming over the child. "So this is Lithuania?" He asked, eyeing him strangely as if he wasn't sure whether he should be afraid or elated to see that Russia was fine.

He nodded. "Da, this is him—can you not tell?" Russia sighed in mock anger. "Now, now, Toris… You know it's not polite to jump onto people like that."

"But Vanya~" Toris whined, looking up at them both with twinkling eyes, "Uncle Al is so squishy and fun to hug…"

Alfred flushed and England, who was standing right next to him, snickered. "I think I like this little saucepan already."

Still blushing, America turned his head to glare at him. "A saucepan? He's a kid, England… Not a piece of cookware for you to set on fire, honestly now."

"It's a figure of speech," Arthur sniffed, seemingly affronted. "And piece of cookware to set on fire? What are you implying? Only a headbanger would do something like that if it were even possible."

America stifled a laugh but England noticed anyways and thought it was enough of an excuse to try and strangle him. Russia didn't bother to intervene and break them apart. He knew the pair couldn't stand side-by-side peacefully for five minutes without fighting in the first place anyways.

Apparently undisturbed by the violence going on in front of him, Lithuania turned to Russia and tugged on his sleeve, asking innocently, "Vanya, are they married?"

"Yes," Russia answered with a straight face, "That's very smart of you for figuring that out."

The two fighting nations seemed to have heard for they stopped what they were doing to glare at Russia simultaneously. Arthur still had his hands around Alfred's neck, and Alfred had the front of Arthur's shirt clenched between his fists.

"You're talking bollocks. Don't fill that boy's head with silly lies like that," England snapped, perturbed.

"Me? A liar?" Russia inquired, looking mildly shocked at the accusation.

Alfred let go of Arthur's shirt and shoved him off before he could make a retort, ignoring his colorful protests as he knelt down to Toris's level. "Naw, of course we're not married. Iggy's not good enough for that. But anyways, how would you like to visit my place one day, hm? Trust me, Washington is awesome. We have a lot more interesting places than Russia over here."

"That's plausible," Ivan said lightly, "Alfred, I don't want you corrupting him now."

"But what if I want to be corrupted?" Toris quipped in. Russia resisted the urge to bend down and shield his naivety away from the American.

"Yeah, what if he wants to be corrupted?" He paused for a second. "Wait…"

Lithuania opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted when a green mass suddenly enveloped him.

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you!" Poland said, hugging Lithuania tightly. Toris only laughed, welcoming the bear hug. Poland let go and stared intently into his eyes. "Czy mogę dzwonić do siebie Liet?"

He nodded. "Oczywiście jest to możliwe!" Poland's eyes trailed down to the object around his neck and his face lit up. Laughing heartily, he took Lithuania in his arms and spun him around in a circle.

"I can't believe you like, still have it! I've totally missed you!" Lithuania responded by clinging to his neck and laughing happily. Poland slowed to a stop and his gaze landed on Russia. He sobered up but the joy didn't leave his eyes as he said, "Like, take care of him okay? I want to see him healthy and stuff when he visits."

Russia smiled, reassuring him. "I won't let anyone harm him. He will be cherished."

"I take your word for it then. From the beginning to end, he knew what he was doing—Liet really loved you," he set the child down who gave Russia a glance of affection, his mouth lifted in a soft smile. "Actually, I think he still does."

With a warm feeling in his heart, Russia didn't doubt him.

-x-X-x-

Gilbert stood a safe distance away from the embassy, shadowed from view by an alleyway. He could still see the other nations in the distance but he doubt anyone noticed him from there. Still, his instincts for self-preservation had told him not to attend the world meeting, but running away from his problems wasn't the answer—not for him at least.

He had already seen the child. Those deep green depths were filled with the same strength and will as Lithuania. A power Prussia knew all too well from the many encounters on the battlefield.

The one thing he didn't understand though was that Lithuania died. He saw the large metal shaft pierce right through his body, almost separating it in two, and the blood that poured out of his mouth right after. Nation or human, no one could've survived that… His capital, the center of his being, was burning down as well. Of course the fires were put out but by then, it was too late for Toris…

So how?

The others believed the boy to be Lithuania himself. Gilbert thought they were just trying to make a happy ending out of a tragedy,

A tragedy he caused.

"Are you alone?"

It was an innocent question that still made Prussia jump—how did he manage to sneak up on him?

"I-I'm not alone," he corrected, "I'm just enjoying my solitude. Why are you here?"

Lithuania grinned at him with childish amusement. "No one else was standing here so I wondered why. It's no fun being alone…"

Prussia kept himself from correcting him again. The child's sincere comment puzzled him. "Don't you hate me?"

"Hate?" He blinked, looking thoughtful as if he were trying to comprehend the meaning of the word. "No, I wouldn't hate Gilbert. That's your name, right? Can I call you Uncle Gilbo…? I have Raivis and Eduard, Uncle Al and Uncle Arthur, then there's Feliks and Vanya too."

Prussia didn't have to ask who "Vanya" was, but he still didn't understand this kid at all. "I don't get it. How can you not hate me after… after…?"

Lithuania shrugged his small shoulders. "I just do. I know what you mean, though—I figured it would be easy to forgive if I was like this." He smiled, the childlike emotion returning to his features. "But don't be sad. Will you come outside? It's boring sitting here, isn't it?"

"I don't think Russia will approve of me. I'm fine like this, really."

He seemed unconvinced and Gilbert mentally cursed the kid's wit.

Lithuania took both of his hands and started tugging him towards the others. Prussia remained rooted to the spot but to his own surprise, he didn't snatch his hands back from the kid's grasp.

"We don't have to fight anymore, Gilbert," Lithuania said, his voice a pure sonance. "It's over now. No one is going to be hurt."

Prussia wanted to believe him. He found it easy to believe him.

He looked over the boy's head and saw Russia approaching them. Toris followed his gaze and another smile crossed his face at the sight of him. He never missed how his eyes always kindled with a different type of fervor every time he laid them on the other nation.

I envy you.

"Toris," Ivan hummed, ruffling the other's hair gently when he reached them.

It's true. I never wanted to admit it, especially to your face… But I envy you. I really do.

"Go play with Feliks and the others, all right? Your brothers want to see you. I'll be right over there in a minute."

Lithuania nodded and obeyed, running off to join the rest.

Making sure he was well out earshot, Russia turned back to Gilbert, surveying him with an unreadable expression.

Prussia saw it coming—he saw it coming but made no effort to move out of the way when the fist collided with his jaw.

He stumbled back and rubbed the spot where Russia struck him. His cheek started to taste of something metallic even though he noticed how Russia held back enough to avoid breaking the bone—it still hurt.

"I guess I deserved that," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Russia nodded. "That and a lot more. You have no idea."

"Then go ahead." He braced himself.

"I won't." Prussia frowned, nonplussed. Since when did Russia ever pass beating him up and exacting his revenge? Ivan gestured in Lithuania's direction. "Lithuania forgives you, so what would be the point?"

"Lithuania is dead," he differed flatly.

"Lithuania is not dead. He lives on in him. Don't you see?"

In his mind's eye, he saw the two eyes staring up at him with a pure sort of naivety, devoid of any hatred or venom. "But…"

"Toris died for me, and I live on for him. You can keep on hating and despising me like you always have, but you owe your life to that child. It's the very least you can do."

From here, Prussia could see the small nation jump America from behind and knocking him down to the ground, followed closely by Poland who dragged England down with him. The other two Baltics observed the scene with great amusement. He realized he had never seen the often-melancholic nation this happy.

"He's… he's actually free now," Prussia voiced his understanding out loud.

Russia didn't have to say anything to that. Gilbert could already tell he agreed with his sentiment.

Lithuania noticed the two watching him and raised a hand, waving and grinning brightly.

"Uncle Gilbo! Vanya!" He yelled loud enough to hear.

He always thought the coldness and passivity was permanent on Russia's face until it all vanished at that very instant. Prussia felt his own heart grow lighter.

He turned his face towards the sky, neither in despair nor prayer, but in a brief flash of hopeful realization. No clouds hindered the endless stretch of blue—a good omen.

It was going to be peaceful for a while… A very long while.

-x-X-x-


-x-X-x-

It was my eternal belief

That we could start over.

. . .

In this world,

We are all connected

By this string forged from our love

…And our hate.

It remains within all of us

This is our strength, our undying bond

This is our Cat's Cradle.

-x-X-x-


- - -

xxx END xxx

- - -


-x-X-x-

Author's Note

That concludes the end to my multi-chaptered fic. We've come a long way to finally see this finished and honestly, I'm really going to miss writing for this story.

First off, I'm really glad I went through with this since the beginning, and it's all thanks to you guys. Thank you for the immense support you've shown me as I gradually updated. I've never received this much love for a single story; but then again, I've never put this much effort into a single story either.

I realize there are some flaws, and some sloppy mistakes but I still enjoyed writing this and I'm glad you guys liked reading it too.

A couple weeks ago, I was completely torn about how I should end TCC, but after long nights of thinking and asking friends for their opinions, I finally made my decision.

As you may or may not know, The Cat's Cradle is an ancient string game that's played all over the world. The symbolism isn't very well known, but it can stand for peace and understanding among others. I'll let you interpret its relation to the story however you'd like, though I think it may be a little obvious xD

I don't have a solid idea on what I'm going to work on next. I might retire to one-shots until I get a good idea so expect some stuff from me x3

The lyrics found in the beginning and middle are from "The Best Is Yet To Come" by Rika Muranaka, and the song itself is from Metal Gear Solid. The original song is in Irish actually (thank you for correcting me! xD ), but listen to it anyway. I find the lyrics and melody so fitting, it's kind of scary.

Some translations:

Hurensohn (German) – Son of a b!tch

Czy mogę dzwonić do siebie Liet? (Polish) – Can I call you Liet?

Oczywiście jest to możliwe! (Polish) – Of course you can!

Probably not entirely accurate, I used a translator for everything except Prussia's pottymouth.

So that's the end to my ridiculously long author's note. Now that everything's finished, I'm very curious about what you all thought about everything. Some people rarely review until the story finishes, but I just want to know what you think now that its over. (Hurrah for connecting with readers )

Once again, thank you for reading and sticking with me till the very end!