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Germany always considered himself a fairly self-assured nation. He was confident, and as someone who had practically spent his whole life on the battlefield, he knew that staying calm under pressure was one of the most important skills he could have. Hell, if you’d asked him a few weeks ago, he’d tell you that he’d mastered it. But now? After the Valentine's Day incident?He wasn’t so sure.For a week and a half after that disaster of a day, he could hardly bear to be in the same room as Italy; and Germany guessed that the other man felt similarly towards him. There was a certain level of tension that the pair could hardly seem to shake. Italy wasn’t as touchy as before, nodding his head instead of hugging as a farewell, and scrapping his usual cheek-kiss greeting entirely. And Germany, who before didn’t mind whacking the other over the head and yelling at him when he did things wrong, started to get flustered and quiet when he so much as looked him in the eye.It got to the point where even Japan, which Germany was convinced had the inability to feel or read emotions, was starting to notice. He’d catch their strange side glances and tilt his head in confusion. But, by some miracle, he never asked about it; even if it did make their training sessions significantly more uncomfortable.And yet—as much as he wished that the experience had never occurred—something changed in Germany. Everything he felt during his week of romantic pursuit, all the happiness and sheer bliss he felt towards Italy, was still there Every time he thought about him he felt his face flush, and his thoughts would continuously wander. He wondered how his hand might feel held tight in his own. He wondered how his smile might look after a long night gazing at the stars, just the two of them. He wondered if Italy felt the same.If he were being completely honest with himself, every bit of it terrified him.Germany was supposed to be strong, and self-reliant! How could someone like him be reduced to a flustered mess every time he thought about his supposed best friend?He was hopeless.So hopeless that it wasn’t just Japan that could see his inner turmoil. As Germany sat at his desk one day, absent-mindedly working on his paperwork, he failed to notice the silver-haired eastern nation that approached him.“West! We have to talk!” Prussia loudly proclaimed, putting both of his hands on Germany’s shoulders and shaking them, earning himself a sharp glare.“I could hardly believe it, but after that dummkopf Austria told me about it, I knew it was up to your awesome big brother to save the day as usual!” He laughed, completely ignoring Germany’s look of I am not having this conversation with you right now, get out of my room before I burst your head open.“There’s nothing to discuss.” he huffed, attempting to go back to his work, only to have it swept off the desk by the energetic Prussian. Germany gave him a quick punch on the arm, but unlike other times when it would make him feel better, it didn’t free him from his thoughts at all.“Lies, lies, lies! Austria told me that you asked out your Italian boy toy on a date, and it went horribly! Of course, this is no surprise, considering how you’re, y’know, you, but that was weeks ago!” He exclaimed, seemingly unaffected by his brother’s violent comebacks. Germany’s face was only getting redder by the second and Prussia’s smirk deepened, realizing how truly right he was. “But according to your face—and the fact that Italy hasn’t been over in weeks—it’s still bothering you, ja? Am I right?!”“If I tell you yes will you shut up and go away already!?” Germany tried to muster up anger, but he sighed, knowing his idiot brother was right. It was weeks ago. And he still wasn't over it. He held his face in his hands, deeply ashamed. “Fine. I’m still, eugh, ‘not over it’. Happy?”“Happiest I’ve been in months!” Prussia laughed, meaning every word of it. Germany attempted to hit him in rebuttal again, but the Prussian seemingly expected it, quickly dodging.“I admitted to my weakness, now can you please get out? I have a lot of work to do, and apparently, now I have to clean it up after you rudely pushed it all onto the floor.” He tried again in vain to forcefully shove his brother out, but the Prussian refused to budge, the smug smirk growing wider by the second.“No way am I leaving now, West! Now that you’ve admitted it, it’s up to the awesome Prussia to help you out of this mess!” He hopped cheerfully over to his brother’s bed, gesturing for the former to take a seat next to him. Germany grumpily obliged, knowing that he’d have better luck getting Italy to stop eating pasta than get Prussia off his high horse.But with the thought of Italy, he found himself blushing furiously again, and he forced his mind not to wander any further. Prussia patted him on the shoulder sympathetically.“You’ve really got it bad, haven’t you? Heh, you’ll need more help than I thought!” he said, his smirk seeming a little more genuine than before, “Now, why don’t you tell me what happened?”Slowly and begrudgingly, Germany recounted the previous Valentine’s Day, and how horrible the communication really was. Everything Italy did that Germany saw as romantic (even the red roses) was totally platonic to him. He told Prussia about the date, and how he felt truly embarrassed for the first time after he followed the shitty advice book.But most importantly, he mentioned how happy he felt for those few short days when he thought that he and Italy were “together”. When he stopped he kept his gaze focused on the floor, unable to bring himself to look at his brother.He hated feeling this weak and vulnerable. He was supposed to be the strong one! He had everything together. He was stable. But at this moment, under his brother’s unreadable eyes, he felt anything but. And he hated it.Prussia whistled, clearly taken aback by how beaten up Germany was about this whole thing.“Yikes, West. I can see why this is still upsetting you! If you want me to conquer and punch that Italian bastard for you, I’d be down for it–”“I don’t want you punching Italy, gottdammet!” Germany shouted, anger flaring back up, before deflating again, “I’m not mad at him, though he is an idiot.”“Then what are you mad at!” Prussia threw his arms out dramatically, leaning back, “If it was all a misunderstanding, and you don’t actually like him like that cause he accidentally led you on, then how do you not feel mad at him?! What do you feel?”“I feel-” Germany cut himself off, similar feelings of embarrassment crowding in his head, “I feel all squishy and soft and I hate it! I can’t think of him without feeling hot, and I can’t understand why! I never felt this way before the incident. Why the hell has it spiked so suddenly now?!”There was a pause as Prussia blanched, seemingly trying to comprehend the can of worms he opened. But just as Germany thought his brother was out of it for good, Prussia began to howl with laughter. The German just sat dumbfounded as Prussia gasped for air, finding so much humor in what was really going on.“Don’t you get it?” Prussia asked after a minute, forcing himself to stifle his laughter as he waited for his little brother to catch up. “It’s hard for even me, the awesome Prussia, to get! Because I’d never have expected it in a million years!”He laughed again, and Germany only got more frustrated with his vagueness.“What hadn’t you expected?”“Do you want me to spell it out for you? Fine. You’re in love! That’s right folks, Mr. Stick-in-the-ass is feeling an emotion that isn’t anger or mild disappointment! Really, I’m shocked!”With that Prussia returned to laughter, and it was Germany’s turn to go completely blank. In love? Him? With Italy???Has the end of the world started already?But the more he thought about it the more he realized holy shit, his dumbass brother was right. He had seen the definition countless times when looking through books and listening to France’s ramblings. He loved Italy. He wanted to spend time with him, feel his touch, and listen to his voice. He wanted to get annoyed at him for eating pasta instead of training and sleeping instead of fighting. He wanted to listen to him talk about his country and life.He wanted Italy.“...Scheiße.”But even more surprisingly than his revelation, Prussia didn’t look smug at all. He squeezed Germany’s shoulder reassuringly and gave him a smile that could only be described as genuinely happy for his sibling.“Look at that! My little brother’s all grown up! Admitting to his feelings like a reasonable person! I could just die right here and now!” He wiped a fake tear from his eye as Germany looked at him with contempt, “Well, there’re two places you could go from here! Either you hide like a baby and don’t face him at all, or you man up and talk to him already! Seriously, talk to him. Japan’s been complaining for weeks now.”“Japan’s told you about this!?”“That’s not the point and you know it! The point is, you have to face him at some point or another! If you don’t, you’ll miss out on the best chance you’ve ever had for love! And I’d hate to see that happen to you, Ludwig.”It really hit him how serious his brother was when his true name was used. It rang out with true sincerity, and though Prussia’s voice quaked, the sentiment came from a place of pure honesty. For a moment Germany wondered if he was speaking from experience, or if he really cared about him that much. Whatever it was, the Western nation finally accepted what he needed to do.“Hmph, when did you get so smart?” he gave a light smile, gently nudging his elder sibling.“I don’t know, when did you get so emotional?” Prussia’s laugh returned, and he gave him his trademark smirk, “See, this is why you have to open up to your awesome older brother more! Where would you be if I weren’t here, huh?”Truthfully, Germany didn’t know, and to be frank he didn’t want to. His childhood was a complete blur, with only a few vague memories popping up here and there. Prussia for many years was all he had; before Italy, he just had Prussia. And though the older country was insufferable, arrogant, and the loudest person on earth at times, he looked up to him more than anyone.Though he acted like a dumbass, Germany knew that Prussia was the most reliable person in his life, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.The Prussian stood up and stretched, flashing his sharp teeth and giving his little brother a thumbs up.“I think I’ve had my fun now, right? You know what you need to do!” he gave a knowing look and a devilish grin, “I’ll even give you a little time alone to think about him if you know what I mean–”“VERDAMMET, PRUSSIA, GET OUT OF MY ROOM!”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
On a normal day, training would start at 8 A.M. sharp. No excuses. Germany prided himself on timeliness and being able to keep on a schedule, even if he knew that the other two members tended to not pay as much attention to his guidelines as he’d like. Well, it was mostly Italy who ignored him.No matter how many lectures he gave the nation, he would always sleep in late, not showing up for at least another hour no matter what seemed to happen. He’d show up blabbering some excuse about pasta and cute girls, stammering implications the German would rather not think about.Japan wasn’t much better, even if he did try to keep up with the German’s strict routine. He would show up on time well enough, but it was obvious he would rather be anywhere else. Germany would have to snap his fingers in front of his face to regain his attention like he would do to his dogs, though he supposed that he didn't fully blame him. The timezone shift from Asia to Europe had to mess with his head at least a little bit.It was more forgivable than Italy’s excuses at the very least.Despite knowing that he wouldn’t be seeing the Italian for a while longer, Germany made sure to show up to training an hour early to try and clear his head. He needed the time to prepare—to know what he would say at the very least.It also may or may not have been because he wanted to get up earlier than Prussia to avoid having another conversation with him about any of this. The last thing he needed was any more of his nagging about it. He loved his brother, he really did, but the best thing he could describe him was as “pushy” if anything. He agreed to do it already, so he didn't see the point in reminding him every waking second.Besides, as far as Germany was concerned, one heartfelt conversation was enough for the year. He filled his quota; no need to rush into another one.So instead he went through his warm-up routine in silence, trying to busy his mind with his work instead of the impending confrontation he was about to face. It was his go-to method of ignoring his problems, after all.But even as he attempted to use the strategies that once worked, all he could think about was him. Though he prided himself on being composed under pressure, he couldn’t ignore the feelings he’d left estranged for so long.Strangely, he felt the urge to punch the nearest Italian.Even stranger, for the first time he wished that Romano was around.But seeing as there was no such Italian around, he settled for the wall instead. He punched it hard, and though the brick hurt his hand, it was nothing compared to the frustration he'd been feeling the past few weeks. Even if it didn’t make him feel any better, he figured it didn’t make him feel any worse. No one was around to see his shame either, so he should be fine…Swallowing his pride, he hit the wall again. And again. And again. He kept punching the wall until he saw smears of blood on it and his knuckles but he still didn’t stop to think about it. Thinking about what he was feeling hurt just as much. He started to imagine each punch symbolizing a different part of his situation. His ignorance towards Italian customs? One hit. The homophobic waiter embarrassing him even further? Another hit. He and Italy avoiding each other all week? Another hit.He kept going for who knows how long, only stopping when he heard a sharp gasp behind him. Germany paused and turned around, expecting a stray civilian or maybe even Japan. He froze completely, mind blank when he saw who it really was.“Germany!” Italy yelled, racing towards the taller man, “Are you alright?! Why are you punching that wall!? Was it a mean wall or something? Never mind that you’re bleeding really bad!”Germany was hard-pressed to move or even think as the Italian kept babbling incomprehensibly around him. He felt his bloodied hand being taken softly by the others, and he numbly allowed himself to be led away, his mind having completely given up on him.“Germany?” Italy paused to look at him, his eyes surprisingly wide open for once, “Germany! Snap out of it!”The German blinked, suddenly very aware of himself and his surroundings. He stood there for a moment with his brows furrowed as a million thoughts and emotions raced through his head and heart. He settled for asking a question.“What are you doing here? I’ve never seen you come to training on time, let alone early.” He gave himself a mental pat on the back for even getting the words out.Italy kept his eyes focused on him, but his expression softened slightly once he realized that if Germany was able to complain about him, that must mean he was okay.“Heh, that’s actually a funny question, ve~!” he giggled while blushing slightly, before continuing to lead Germany away to their base, “Si, I wasn’t planning on it, but then I got a strange letter in the mail! It said something about ‘free pasta if I show up here an hour early!’ and of course I had to be here! I was lucky I was even able to read it, the handwriting was worse than even Romano’s! That’s very hard to do. But when I got here there was no pasta! It was terribly sad. I was about to head home out of pure disappointment when I saw you–”Italy cut himself off and looked down, slightly embarrassed. Germany also looked away out of embarrassment, however, this was for a completely different reason. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out who sent Italy a letter claiming to give free pasta, after all.
'PRUSSIA SENT ITALY A LETTER!? IT HAD TO HAVE BEEN HIM! THAT ARSCHLOCH MUST HAVE EXPECTED ME TO GET UP EARLY! WHEN I GET HOME—’
They continued walking back to their base in silence, neither managing to look at the other long enough to gain a read on what the other was thinking. Once he was finished mentally strangling his brother, Germany turned his thoughts to the Italian whose hand he was currently holding.Though he felt embarrassed, he couldn’t bring himself to let go. He might hit another wall without thinking, and he really didn’t want Italy to see that.He was already stressed enough about how Italy saw his previous breakdown. As far as he was aware, he’s not seen him lose it like that before. He figured it must have been a shocking sight, so he opened his mouth with the intent to apologize for it only to be cut off.“Ah, ve! We’re here!” he said, pushing open the door. The air conditioning was a nice change from the early morning heat though the temperature change made the sting in Germany’s hand feel more apparent. He winced, earning himself a concerned look.He tried to give Italy a reassuring glance, but even he could feel how forced it came across. Germany was a nation, so it would heal quickly. But just because the wound would be gone by the next day didn’t mean that it wouldn’t hurt like hell until then.“Italy, I–”“You wait over there,” the Italian pointed to the nearby sofa, “I’m going to get some bandages and soap. I would get hydrogen peroxide, but they say that’s actually bad for wounds! Strange, isn’t it? After that, I’ll make us some pasta and it’ll all be better so don't worry, Germany! You just get some rest!”As quickly as he came he left the room, leaving Germany with his thoughts. He had a lot of them at the moment, however the most prevalent of them was why Italy was being so kind to him?He had been so sure that their friendship was soured by the Valentine’s incident. They hadn't even had so much as a conversation since that day, barring Germany’s avid apologies about the whole affair. And yet he still helped him without a second thought when he saw him hurt. That had to prove something. Germany was sure of it. If anything, it meant that they could talk again as friends, right?He’d never admit it out loud, but he truly missed the Italian more than anything. Even if he refused his confession, he swore to himself that they could at least stay friends. If he got anything out of this godforsaken war at all, he hoped it could be that.Just as he finished the promise to himself, Italy sprinted back into the room holding gauze bandages and a soapy paper towel. Quickly he plopped down on the sofa next to the younger nation before looking up and giving a reassuring smile. Germany noticed that his knuckles hurt a little less when he was looking at Italy.It was as if the world had stopped spinning, just for them.They stayed like that for a moment, each staring into the other’s eyes before Italy blushed and looked away. Germany relaxed, his breathing returning to a steady pace. Quickly, Italy held the German’s hand closer to his face, careful not to hurt him. His knuckles looked better than before, but it certainly wasn’t a pretty sight.“This is going to hurt a teensy-weensy bit, si? Just give me your hand.”Germany silently obliged, holding out his fist and keeping his eyes laser-focused on their hands. Carefully, Italy held up the paper towel to the wound and applied pressure. Germany winced but otherwise stayed quiet. It didn’t hurt that bad; no reason to make the other nation more worried than he already was.After the blood was effectively cleaned, Italy began to wrap his knuckles in the gauze, careful to avoid wrapping his fingers too tight. He looked up to ensure that he wasn’t hurting him, and Germany nodded, lost in Italy’s usually-closed eyes.He didn’t know why he chose to keep them shut most of the time. The molten yellow was beautiful, giving him a spark unlike anyone else Germany could say he knew. He blushed thinking about it but was too captivated to fully look away. He was sure he looked like an idiot; he pictured himself looking like Italy as he gushed over any beautiful woman he saw and shuddered.Italy tilted his head but didn’t question it. Instead, he chose to ask about something else.“So Germany, why were you punching that wall in the first place? It didn’t say anything mean to you, did it? If walls could talk, they would be mean! At least that’s what Romano tells me. But that’s not important! Not right now, at least.” Italy asked, making Germany genuinely unsure if he meant it seriously or not. Still, he shook his head.“Nein, I was just frustrated. I suppose I just, er, lost my temper.”“Really?! You normally just yell at me whenever you lose your temper regardless if I’ve actually done anything or not!” The other nation gasped, seemingly genuinely shocked that when he wasn’t there that's what the German resorted to to let his emotions out, “I know that things haven’t been the exact same, since, y’know, but you should just talk to me instead! That’s what friends are for, right, ve?”“Ah, about that, I actually wanted to talk to you about something.” Germany sighed, deciding that this moment was as good as ever. Besides, if it didn’t work out, at least his wounds were dressed and he could go home with his head held high. The German was a lot of things, but he would never be a coward. He’d never be one to procrastinate on something this important, and Italy deserved to know the truth. And maybe Germany deserved to speak it.“When I– no, when you and I— ugh,” he sputtered, unused to being so open. He hesitated before Italy nodded encouragingly. He started again, taking a deep breath.“I was happy, is what I’m trying to say. When I thought we were together, I mean. I was happy.”Every word felt like cement on the tongue, and he decided to give up on his approach of ‘feelings first, confession later.’ Instead, he put it as bluntly as possible so no misunderstandings could be made at all. Not after last time.“Would you go on a date with me, Italy? A real one.” he spat out, face deeply red and mind completely bent. But it was far too late to go back so he continued on, ignoring the hot feeling in his gut.“Not like last time, of course. No more miscommunication. So I’m telling you now; I want to have dinner with you and have a night out with you because I– Because I like you a lot. Ever since we first became friends I’ve always felt this way, but I only truly realized it the short week when I thought we were together. Und mein Gott, Italy, I felt happy. You make me feel happy. I wish I could say it more eloquently like someone like France, or even you. But this is the best way I know how. Ever since the start of the war, I’ve always loved you. And I hope that even if you don’t accept it, we can still be friends. Because so long as you’re in my life, Italy, I’ll be happy. And I hope to be able to make you happy as well.”He kept his head facing towards the ground and his eyes sealed shut, feeling like he just ripped out his own heart. He didn’t even know he was capable of feeling that many emotions, let alone speaking of them. But when the silence dragged on, Germany risked a nervous glance upwards and nearly flinched back in shock.Italy was crying.Not the normal way that he cried, bawling loudly and screaming about whatever frightened him. Instead, he stood there silent and still, eyes wide as tears leaked down his face like a broken faucet. It was a melancholy sight and a look that Germany didn’t think suited him.Germany bolted upright, horrified that he accidentally upset the other nation.“Italy I’m sorry, of course it’s fine if you don’t feel the same. I shouldn’t have–”But Germany’s brazen apologies were quickly cut off by Italy bolting forward, catching him in a fierce hug. His hands were so tightly wrapped around his chest that if it were anyone else his fingers would have dug into their skin and constricted them completely. Instead, Germany just stood there, feeling a mix of shock and confusion before he forced himself to relax, wrapping his arms around the Italian in an attempt to comfort him.A selfish thought came to his head for a moment, of how much he enjoyed the Italian’s embrace. Germany never considered himself a touchy person, but somehow Italy managed to worm his way into his heart and mind anyway.He was embarrassed and vulnerable, but he knew Italy was as well. And he was maybe okay with that just this once.They stayed like that for what felt like hours, though in reality was likely just a few minutes. Germany held Italy close, rubbing his back while ignoring the tears he felt collecting on his shirt. Eventually, Italy sniffled and pulled away, though he still stayed close enough for Germany to continue holding an arm over his shoulder.He rubbed his eyes and shot a slightly embarrassed smile.“I’m really sorry you had to see that Germany! You probably think that I’m even weaker than before! If that’s even possible,” he gave a sad laugh, leaning closer into the German’s touch as he calmly dried his eyes, “I’m not even sad! I’m really happy! It just made me remember something sad. But I promise that it’s not because of you at all! You’ve definitely succeeded in making me happy if that’s your goal!”“Wait. You’re– happy?” Germany gaped, wondering if he was hearing right. He looked down towards Italy only to be greeted by the brightest smile he’d ever seen. It was enough to light any room, but he already knew that. Of course, it didn’t mean he minded seeing it.“Does that mean—”“Yes, Germany, I mean it! I will go on a date with you!” Italy rubbed his eyes again to rub away the remainder of his tears, “I’m truly so glad that you asked! I’ll be honest I wanted to myself, ve, but I had no clue if you felt the same! It would be horrible if I made you uncomfortable and I’d hate for that! These last few weeks have been so hard without you! I don’t know if I could bear it any longer!”And as Italy blabbered on, Germany couldn’t help but agree. He refused to admit it before, but he couldn’t deny anymore how miserable he had felt. He was no stranger to loneliness. He’d lived so much of his life isolated from everyone but his brother, eventually losing him too for years on end. He should have been desensitized to the isolation, but no matter how many years went by it never seemed to hurt any less.All he knew was that those feelings vanished when he was with Italy, and was silently grateful to be allowed to be friends with someone who could be so kind to him. Carefully, he unwrapped himself from Italy and stood, to his companion’s confusion.“Of course, we still have training today. I hope you don’t think that just because we’re going out later means you’re going to get out of it, ja?”Italy blinked, before giving a grin.“Ve, fine then! Today I’ll go along with it, just for you!” he hummed before standing up to meet the German’s eye, “But only if you promise we’ll be having pasta later!”Germany shook his head in exasperation but agreed anyway, not wanting to put a damper on the moment for once.Italy cheered before giving him a quick hug in thanks. Germany stiffened but forced himself to relax. They were fine now. This was normal. As they walked he kept listening to Italy rambling on about anything and everything. He didn’t smile, but he was happy.Maybe he wouldn’t strangle Prussia later after all.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Unsurprisingly, Italy didn’t fully keep his promise to go along with training. When they started he did his best to not drift off or walk away aimlessly, but as they went on he became increasingly restless. Germany couldn’t even bring himself to feel disappointed, as he had a gut feeling that this would happen. It always did.Fortunately, this time he was prepared. Swiftly he gave the other nation a sharp look before raising his voice.“ITALY, YOU BETTER START RUNNING!” Germany yelled as he chased Italy along their field as he usually did when Italy refused to run.“GERMANY, PLEASE, I HAVE SO MUCH TO LIVE FOR!” The Italian shrieked, picking up his pace significantly to avoid Germany’s wrath, “I KNOW I PROMISED TO TRAIN, BUT YOU KNOW I CAN’T KEEP THESE THINGS! PLEASE, I’M TOO PRETTY TO DIE! DON’T MAKE ME RUN, VE! GERMANY!”As Italy continued yelling nonsensically, Germany slowed down his pace. If he knew Italy, he knew he’d keep running for ages to avoid consequences. Pretending to chase him was a technique that he’d developed early on and could always use as a push to keep him running, or get him off his back for a little while (sometimes literally).As his sprint continued to slow, eventually Germany was at the same pace as Japan. The two quiet nations acknowledged each other with a nod, before falling into a comfortable silence.‘At least I can rely on Japan for normalcy,’ the German thought, happy for a small bit of solace in the otherwise chaotic day. They continued like that in silence, with Japan occasionally glancing at Germany. And unfortunately for Germany’s dreams of familiarity, he looked like he had something to say.“Japan? Do you need something?” Germany sighed, knowing the other man would rather die than break the ice unless prompted. Japan reacted with a blush and looked away, embarrassed at having been called out.“Ah, yes, actually,” he murmured cautiously, “I was just wondering if Italy got the letter I had written earlier. About the free pasta?”The line hit Germany in the gut, forcing him to stop his run so he wouldn’t fall over from the shock. Nothing made sense anymore. Japan expressing himself? To him, it was almost as surprising as the fact that he was trying to become emotionally competent.“Germany? Are you alright?” Japan’s voice rang in his ears, snapping him out of his internal struggle. Sighing again, the German just shook his head.“Ja, ja, es geht,” Germany mumbled, waving off Japan for the moment, still trying to work his head around what might have happened. Why would Japan have written a note for Italy? And about fake ‘free pasta’?But then it clicked.Prussia had mentioned that Japan had been complaining about the awkwardness at training. Germany had just assumed he meant it in general, but what if the nation was talking about romantic discomfort? That would make sense with how eager Prussia was to help, with Japan having obviously told him. He did have the tendency to be blunt about these types of things…“Yes, Italy did,” Germany confirmed, sure of his reasoning. Japan’s face glowed for a moment before he looked away nervously again.“I hope he wasn’t mad that I didn’t bring any actual pasta. I did intend to, but I was a little too late to bring it.”“No, he was alright. If anything, it’s better than alright,” Germany suddenly felt embarrassed himself (he really wasn’t enjoying this newfound emotion) but he believed that in this situation a thanks was only necessary, “I do have to thank you though, Japan. That letter resulted in some, ah, unresolved feelings, being dealt with. And you won’t have to worry about Italy not getting pasta. As it seems, he and I are having it for dinner tonight.”Japan’s usually dull eyes widened, before returning to an unreadable expression.“Dinner?” he asked, “I see. You two are going out together tonight.”“Ja, we are,” Germany looked away again, ignorant to the sadness behind Japan’s deadpan voice, “It should be nice, assuming that Italy can get his act together. But at the very least it should be better than last time, that’s for sure.”“Of course it will. It’ll be a passing grade at a low bar,” Japan gave a forced face of happiness before looking away again, “I do hope you’ll make sure everything is perfect for him. Not that I have any right to say so, of course.”“Absolutely. It’s my responsibility to make sure it’s the best it can be.”Which means that he’s going to stay far away from the book he used last time. Hungary and Prussia never let him hear the end of it after they found it, and he does not want a repeat of that.But he was so distracted by his own thoughts that he failed to notice the speedy Italian running towards him from behind until he felt a large amount of pressure jumping on his back. Before they tumbled to the ground, Germany managed to get a look at Italy’s molten gold eyes, full of laughter as the force pulled him to the ground alongside the German.“Germany! Where did you go? I ran and I ran and eventually I noticed you weren’t even there at all!” he giggled unceremoniously, “So I came back!”Germany stifled a cough, the dust from the ground catching in his throat. The fall didn’t hurt, but laying on his side across from the bubbly Italian had to be an awkward sight. He felt his face heat up as he realized Italy had grabbed his hand and was still holding it tight. He forced himself not to instinctively let go. The book he read before had told him it was normal after all…He mentally whacked himself over the head. He told himself he wouldn’t listen to that godforsaken book anymore! But then did that mean he should let go? And yet something told him that he shouldn’t.
‘Ugh, this romance stuff is more confusing than I thought…’
Instead of acknowledging it, he chose to answer Italy’s rhetorical question.“Well, I fell behind to talk to Japan, and–” he turned to look at his companion, only to realize that the smaller nation had vanished. Italy seemed to pick up on his lack of attendance and quickly sprung up, letting go of the German’s hands and giving him a playful look.“Wow, for once it seems Japan isn’t here, ve!” Italy laughed as Germany followed suit, dusting himself off, “Does that mean we can end training early? Pleeeaaaseeee~?”“But we still have an hour and a half left!” he tried to protest, only to be smothered by a tight hug. His heart beat faster against his chest as Italy looked up at him with his molten eyes, making sure there was no more room for protest.“If we finish sooner then that means we can get started with our date quicker~”At Italy’s pleading, Germany couldn’t help but sigh. He did want to finish training for the day, but knew he couldn’t really refuse the smaller nation. He looked away, wanting to rub his temples, but the way that Italy grabbed onto his arms made it impossible to move them.“Well, it is only an hour I suppose…” he reasoned, still unable to fully look at his companion, “Fine. But we’re starting training an hour early tomorrow to compromise!”“Yay! Grazie, Germany!” Italy squeezed Germany a little tighter before letting go just as quickly, leaving the other nation flustered. He then seized Germany’s hand and winked“Let’s go to my house! I can cook some wonderful pasta, and there’s a balcony on the roof where we can eat while looking at all the stars in the sky!”“Really? Now?” his jaw went slack, and he couldn't help but let himself be led outside their training field, “Don’t we need time to prepare? Change clothes, maybe shower? Do you need time to set things up?”Italy rolled his eyes as if he expected the taller nation to say such a thing, but kept his cheery smile regardless.“Live in the moment, Germany! Why would I need to prepare when part of the fun is not knowing what will happen?” he laughed at Germany’s bemused face, “Besides, you’re still Germany and I’m still Italy regardless of what we wear! As long as we’re happy doing whatever we’re doing, I don’t see any problems at all!”
‘Part of the fun is not knowing what will happen, huh?’
Germany couldn’t relate to that sentiment in the slightest. He was a meticulous planner to the minute, and it deeply confused him how Italy was able to be so carefree about it all. It was as if he could never see any negative consequences for not thinking things through! How could he be so near-sighted?And yet, despite the voices of protest in his brain, he couldn’t help but think that’s what he’s liked about Italy all these years. Being able to do things for the sake of doing them—Germany almost envied it. Almost.Swallowing his pride, he allowed himself a small smile.“Alright, as long as you’re okay with it.”Italy beamed, his face shining so bright that at first glance someone might mistake him for the sun. He cheered and leaped on Germany, nearly taking them both to the ground again.“Italy!” Germany grunted, taken off guard by the other man’s sudden affections, “Is that really necessary?”“Of course it is!” Italy assured, though he quickly let go again, “It’s just so shocking! It feels like only weeks ago you would have whacked me over the head and forced me to get dressed!”Really? Has the older nation changed him that much in such little time? Maybe it was more gradual, but he wasn’t quite sure. He reasoned to ask Prussia for his opinion later, although he’d probably scream something about 'character development' and 'influenced by my awesome self' without giving him a real answer.“Now, come on!” Italy tugged the German’s hand, apparently not waiting for an answer to his observation. “We don’t wanna get there before dark, right?”“Ja, agreed. I’m sure if it’s dark you’ll get us lost and I’ll have to find our way out.”“Wow, and you’ve gotten a sense of humor!” Italy laughed, “You really have changed a lot!”Germany didn’t mean it as a joke; he was being fully serious, but he chose not to say so.This decision was seemingly wise, as Italy quickly moved on, rambling about some kind of new pasta recipe he wanted to try. Germany listened mostly in silence as they walked, occasionally mentioning his own ideas or thoughts. Though neither nation seemed to mind it—if anything it was routine at this point.The chatter was enough distraction as the scenery slowly shifted from the woods of Germany’s home to the beautiful metropolis that was Italy’s.Part of the perks of being a nation was how if you willed it, you could get to any country’s home quicker. A trip that could take a human a month could be done in 30 minutes—so Italy, of course, abused this power frequently to visit his northern companion.Though Germany always felt it was annoying that Italy was just able to barge in on him whenever he wanted, particularly when he was doing his work, he couldn’t deny the convenience of it.He also couldn't deny the objective beauty of Italy’s house. An orange base of paint clashed with the white trim, while green vines crawled up the walls in a way so perfect it seemed almost intentional. And while Germany preferred his own—much simpler—house, he could understand why someone would want to live here.As Italy led him inside for the second time that day, he noticed that on the inside there were two segments. Both looked familiar, but one was significantly messier than the other and had a hallway leading presumably upstairs. He assumed that this was where Romano stayed and became mildly worried. Italy seemed to guess what he was thinking from the furrow in his brow and quickly reassured him.“Don’t worry! Romano isn’t home! Today he’s staying the night at big brother Spain’s house!” he chirped, relieving the migraine that Germany knew would come if he had to deal with the foul-mouthed twin.“Ja, I was wondering about that…”“You worry so much, Germany!” Italy laughed, “Don’t worry, even if he were he I’m sure he wouldn’t bother us much! He can be rude, but he’s really an alright guy!”Somehow Germany doubted that Romano wouldn’t try to ruin their evening, but he didn’t argue. If Italy thought his brother wouldn’t intervene then he’d have to take his word for it.Soon they entered what looked like a living room, and Italy quickly gestured to the couch with a soft smile.“Ve, I’m going to make us a wonderful pasta dinner! You can wait here! It shouldn’t take too long, but even if it does then that means it’ll just be that much better!” he winked, and the genuine cheerfulness made Germany’s heart flip inside his stomach a little. He liked it when Italy smiled; even when it was annoying that he did it so much.‘Do you not like that he smiles so much, or are you jealous of the fact that he lets other people see him smile as much as he does?’ A voice in his head that sounded strangely like Prussia questioned and he quickly shoved the idea away. He wasn’t some schoolgirl who got jealous over his crush! He was the country of Germany, verdammt!Instead of saying any of this out loud, he gave a curt nod and sat down, momentarily startled by how soft the couch was. Really nothing like how it was at home at all.“Thank you, Italy,” he said politely after the older nation continued standing there for a moment. Germany worried that maybe he was supposed to do something else, or maybe did something wrong, but was relieved when Italy took it kindly and smiled again before leaving the room.However, after being left alone, Germany wasn’t really sure what to do. He always felt uncomfortable left alone in other people’s houses—was there anything specific that he should do? Anything he shouldn’t? He furrowed his brows, content to just sit on the couch and wait before something caught his eye.At the far end of the room, there was a tall bookshelf, stretching all the way to the ceiling. It harbored more books than Germany could count.He supposed it wasn’t shocking; though Italy tended to play the fool, he was quite knowledgeable when it came to the arts and literature. And though he knew that it was safer to stay on the couch, he couldn’t help but be curious about what types of books Italy kept.If all else failed then it would be at least a decent conversation starter, anyway. So, carefully he sat up from his spot and walked over to the bookshelf, careful not to disturb it or anything nearby.When he got closer, he noticed all the books were coated in dust, clearly not having been touched in years. ‘Why would he display something if he won’t even bother cleaning it? That Italy…’Resisting the urge to find the nearest duster and start cleaning, he instead stood there encaptivated by the sheer amount of knowledge presented. Because, despite his guesses that they all contained literature, each book represented an era of history. The 1800s, 1700s, 1600s…It continued that way seemingly all the way down until a certain section caught his eye. The 900s. This would have been during Italy’s childhood, and presumably Germany’s as well, although he remembered nearly nothing from that time. Prussia always told him that ‘Whatever happened back then doesn't matter! Your life didn’t really start until you met the awesome me, anyway! So don’t worry about it!’That didn’t mean he wasn’t curious about what happened to Italy during that time. Occasionally he tried to ask, only to be brushed off with a wink and reassurance that ‘I’ll let you know eventually, ve!’Deciding that it was no use just standing there and thinking about it, he decided to pick the book labeled ‘900s’ up, gently rubbing the dust off. The cover was colored gold with a brown spine, and beneath the date labeled was a scribble in Italian that he couldn’t read.He flipped through the pages, noting that each photo he came across had one thing in common—it was completely impossible to tell what was in them. The drawings looked rushed and forced; nothing at all like Italy’s usual work. They were scratched into the page like it was taking a physical toll to even draw them. The writing was worse; Germany already struggled to read Italian, but this would have been illegible to even the highest Italian scholars.Feeling disappointed that the book came up with nothing interesting, he considered setting it back down before a drawing caught his eye.This one was different from all the others. It had color, and beautiful linework that truly represented the talent for art that he knew Italy had. But even more intriguing was what was portrayed in the drawing. Two young children standing side by side, each holding the other’s hand tight. On the right was a girl, with auburn hair and a bright smile. A light green dress matched her apron, as well as the push-broom in her other hand.The boy stood on the right, a dark cloak covering most of his body and his other arm, while a similar black cap was held over his head. He was smiling lightly, looking bashful compared to the girl.It was the only drawing in the book that had any life, and it was one of the most endearing works that Germany had ever seen. He grazed his hand over the page, wondering how in a book filled with nothing but chaos could hold such a peaceful sight?But before he could do anything else other than stare, he heard a set of quick footsteps and froze in place.“Germany! The pasta’s done, would you like me to—”Apparently Germany had been standing there in awe for longer than he realized. But he had no time left to dwell on that; all he could see was the Italian in front of him, looking pale.Italy cut himself off, catching the sight of Germany holding one of his oldest books. His smile was frozen in place and his body trembled, seemingly caught in a silent war with itself. Germany had never seen him look in such a way; he was used to him crying on the spot when things upset him not… this.The feeling of nervous tension could have lasted days without breaking had Germany not blinked first, horrified that he had done something wrong. Hell, he didn’t know what he’d done, and yet Italy’s reaction of pure dread had told him so much more than any instruction manual might’ve.“Italy, I–” he tried to start, before being quickly interrupted by Italy rushing forward and snatching the book out of his hands before placing it back in one quick motion. He would have been impressed, had the circumstances not been so awkward.“Germany, you should know better than to snoop through your date's things, ve~”He spoke strangely like he was clearly trying to brush it off while forcing his voice not to crack.“I’m sorry,” Germany murmured and looked away, shifting from one foot to the other. He had no real idea how to explain himself; he was just curious, he supposed, but that sounded like the same kind of lazy excuse Italy himself would make. He was Germany! Not some placid kid who needed to know everything about everything.“It’s okay, it really is!” Italy said, still sounding uncomfortable. But he seemed to sense what the German was thinking and lightly put a hand on his arm, attempting to ease the tension. “It’s my fault honestly! I should have put these silly books away so long ago, but Romano insisted I needed a ‘not shitty looking decoration’ and thought these might work, but– well, I guess it would have happened eventually.”Italy gave a hollow laugh, but Germany failed to see the humor. He felt just as dumbfounded as he had moments ago when he saw the drawing of that little girl in the green dress and the blue-eyed boy beside her.“Still, I have to give my apologies,” he said at last, finally looking at Italy’s face. The sadness that was there didn’t suit him. “I shouldn’t have gone looking without your permission. Though, if it makes you feel any better, I couldn’t read any of it. You really have to work on your handwriting, Italy.”Italy smiled at that—a genuine smile—happy that Germany was at least trying to alleviate any remaining tension. Of course, that accompanied by the fact that Germany hadn’t actually read any of it, reassured him so much that in the blink of an eye, he was back to his usual cheery self.“Wow, I was so distracted by that ordeal that I nearly forgot what I came out here for? What was it again? Hmmm…” As Italy thought about it he leaned into Germany’s chest, oblivious to the blush that he gave the taller man. Some things never changed.“Oh, right! The pasta’s ready! I have a fantastic place where we could eat together! If you’ll help me carry it up?”Germany agreed, knowing it would be impolite not to, and quietly followed Italy into the kitchen. He was never used to feeling this many emotions at a time; for a long time, he didn’t know that he even could. Excitement buzzed in his chest, but so did nervousness. Embarrassment too, but that one never seemed to leave him alone these days.And yet, as happy as he was that they were finally moving on with their night, he couldn’t help but think about that book. The harshness of the writing, and the beautiful drawing. He couldn’t help but think there was something more to it, even if Italy assured him it was all fine.Maybe it was.But the look of sheer devastation on Italy’s face seemed so deep-rooted and sad. All he could do was hope he made it through the night without seeing him like that again; he wasn’t sure he could forgive himself if so. Earlier Italy had said that part of the fun of a date was not knowing what would happen.Well, he was right about something. Germany had no clue what would happen next; all he could do was hope the fun would be soon to follow.