RoChu: Beneath the Surface (Lies My Heart) Pt 2

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If there was one thing that irritated Yao, it was being woken at three in the morning. He was usually an early riser, yes, but not a such an ungodly hour, and certainly not on a Saturday.

He grumbled to himself, trying to tame his hair as he pulled his silk robe around him. It was winter, therefore it was cold, and it was nowhere near light outside. This only provoked the Chinese nation further as he stomped to the door. He composed himself as best he could in his sleepy state, before tugging the door open with a huff.

"This better be important, aru," he snapped bitterly, his composure crumbling,  before he looked at the offender that had disturbed his slumber. He couldn't say he was expecting to see Ukraine there, nor was he expecting to see her in such a condition. Her eyes were red, and her breasts jolted slightly as her chest heaved violently with her sobs. His eyes softened, his anger dissolving into confusion as he gave a barely audible sigh.

"Katyusha, aru.....What's happened?Why are you crying?" He could never bring himself to be properly angry with her; she was such a sweet lady, despite perhaps being a bit overly sensitive. 

"Y-Yao....Y-Yao i-it's Ivan! H-he's.... I-I c-can't b-believe....Why d-did he....O-Oh I d-don't know w-what t-to do!" she wailed, burying her face in her hands as they trembled. She almost collapsed until Yao caught her. 

"Come inside, aru..." His voice shook a little, a feeling of dread bubbling in his chest. What had happened to Russia? 

He gently lead her into the long hall, his hand rubbing small, soothing circles on her back, and he could feel the erratic shudders of her heart. China frowned, lowering the Ukrainian nation down onto a chair at the kitchen table when they reached there, and she slumped forward. He slipped into a chair beside her and tilted her head up. 

"Katyusha....Tell me what's wrong, aru..."

Yao couldn't recall much of her answer. His mind was tugged into murky depths of disbelief, and numbness flooded his body, pain spiking up in his chest as his breath was torn from his lungs in a violent sweep.

Ivan.....was dead.

Gone....forever.