White Flags

Phase 6: Blue

I'm in love and always will be

France shook his head at the pitiful sight that was the sulking Italy. The poor lad had seemed so depressed lately. Austria couldn't provide the answer. Hungary couldn't provide the answer. He decided a heart to heart chat would be best.

"I'm warning you, Francis," Hungary hissed at him, "If you're just here to claim Austria's"-

"Non! Non! Of course not!" France laughed, "I just wanted to see how my darling little brother was doing!" 'But now that it's been brought to my attention, I'll keep that in mind for later…' A young looking Italy made his way across the hall and France picked him up from underneath his arms and walked into the next room.

"And I better not see any perverted behavior with Italy!" she called from the other room. France shut the door behind him and gave Italy a cheerful smile.

"Bonjour, Italy!"

"Hello, Big Brother France…"

"That sounds very unenthusiastic, Italy! What seems to be the matter?" He found a chair and sat Italy on his lap. Something bare was brushing against his legs. "…And are you wearing your panties?" France didn't understand why he was always dressed up this way in the first place.

"W-Well… w-well…" Italy broke out into a sob and wiped his eyes and sniffled. "I don't have any!" France made a sour face as his younger brother hiccupped and failed to catch his breath.

'Oh mon dieu… Just what exactly have they done to him?' "Ahaha…well…" France laughed nervously, "Can't you just buy a new pair?" Italy shook his head.

"They would only remind me of… of him!" Italy barely got out the last word, but France heard it plenty well enough.

"HIM?" he shrieked. Oh no. Oh HELL no. Was his little Italy violated without him knowing it? "Did he touch you? Who was it, mi amor? I'll dispose of his filthy head and tear out both his eyes so he'll never look at another gorgeous"-

"What are you talking about, Big Brother?" Italy squeaked, "All he did was k-kiss… And now he's gone! The Holy Roman Empire is gone!" So it wasn't how France was currently imagining the situation, but at least he got a name and an idea of what happened.

"Oh, Italy! Don't be so stupid! You can't just mourn over him forever! You have to move on."

"B-But, he promised he was going to come back for me!"

"Any person will say that just to get in your pants!"

"Veee~ He already got my pantyhose…" France flinched.

"Well, whatever, but you get my point, don't you? You can't be happy if you don't move on."

"I guess so…"

The advice didn't take effect until nearly a century later. Even when the news reached to him that the war was over, The Holy Roman Empire never came back.

"You aren't just fucking with me, right?" Italy nodded very quickly and sat himself at the table across from his brother, who was looking at him very suspiciously.

"Someone spied for me, so I know for sure."

"And how do you know they're not just screwing you over?" asked Romano. Italy folded his hands together, obviously stumped by the question.

"Vee~ I guess I don't…"

"Damn right," Romano spat, "You can't just trust the opposing team, you know."

"But at least fend for yourself just in case, brother," said Italy, "You're right, I don't know whether they're lying to me or not, but"-

"Italy, I don't have time to worry about the potato bastard. If I waste all my time and energy putting effort into something that is far from not my problem, then I'm gonna fuck up my plans-and that's the last thing I want to do right now."

"But"-

"No buts! Now get out!"

"B-But…"

"What did I just say?" Italy sighed and headed for the door.

"Ve. Don't say I didn't warn you, then." Before he twisted the knob, he took one last look at his brother. "And just so you know, I didn't ask you to fight with me. I was just worried that you would be under attack. For once, I got this under control-on my own!" He slammed the door behind him and Romano crossed his arms.

"That stupid potato bastard… Why does he care so much about him? What's he gotten himself-us- into?"

"That was…unexpected," Germany heard one of his soldiers say, "This time we defeated the Italians." Germany opened his eyes and rubbed them. Barely any light from outside shone inside the helicopter, but it was enough to know morning had arrived.

He stood up and yawned, stretching his arms as his vision finally focused. His group of generals was circled right next to him.

"Guten morgen." The voices sounded far less than cheerful.

"...Did I hear correctly? We won?"

"Yes," said another, "That is the battle. We've landed back in Germany. We need to take care of a few things before we can move forward to Toscana where our troops are heading right now."

"We won?"

"Victory is just a short stop away at this point. The Italians were ordered to retreat just hours ago…"

"I'm not sure if I like this," spoke up a general, "It was easier than taking France. I expected them to put up some sort of fight like last time…"

"They're Italians, General! What do you expect?" The group started chattering and bickering until the same general hollered over them. "They've always been this way, you know. Italians weren't made for fighting. It's their weakness. They only won that one battle because we withdrew to proceed with our plans."

"But… their persistence! That's very out of character for them! What if…" he lowered his voice to a more hushed tone, "They are copying our moves?"

"The more soldiers we get rid of, the better. That's what I have to say." The circle dismantled and the generals went their separate ways. A couple took the pilot seats and the rest scattered about the walls of the helicopter. A general sitting next to Germany picked up his walkie talkie.

"Did you get what I asked? … Great, all is going according to plan." He placed it back in his pocket and crossed his arms.

"What do we need to take care of again?" Germany asked. The general looked at him, flashed a smile and answered, "There's nothing to worry about, boss. We got it under control." The helicopter lifted again just a little later on.

Prussia hadn't seen the other nation in days. It was actually really starting to worry him. For once, he decided to take care of himself and the house. He cooked and cleaned and maintained Italy's garden. He was eager for Italy's return. He couldn't just live on wurst forever!

When Italy finally returned home, he stood right at the door with open arms, ready to cradle the Italian with affection, but even when he did, Italy was…unmoved. There was no response or any gesture. He just stood there…lifeless.

"Italy?"

"I'm only here for a short time. Before Prussia could ask any questions, Italy left just as fast as he had arrived inside.

"How much longer until we land?" asked Germany. A pilot checked the map.

"Right now we're just about over the border of Toscana. We should be landing soon, chief." Germany stared back out of the window.

From the aerial view, Italy looked gorgeous. Green hills graced the healthy looking land and the Sun upon the country was beautiful and bright-even where it appeared industrial. Sure, he had been to Rome before, but this was a far more intriguing sight-a happier one.

Yet… it still made him feel sick inside. What did the result of the battle look like back in Liguria? Piemonte?

He shook his head. There was no time to worry about this. The goal was to get this over with as quickly as possible.

…And then what?

"Alright, people," said one of the generals, "We're landing on the new battle ground. Before we fight, I need to speak to our chief first." He led Germany to the end of the helicopter, flicking his hand away to signal the sign of a private discussion and turned back to Germany.

"Remember I ordered some supplies?"

"Yes. I remember," Germany said.

"Well, that's because I figured we might need them…" he then whispered, "Just in case." Germany stared at his general, studying ever feature of his serious expression and then stiffened.

"You don't mean…"

"Don't worry," he whispered even lower, "I won't do it unless you give me permission. What do you say?" Germany immediately shook his head.

"No way! What good would that do?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure that the Italians have not created their own-therefore unleashing them first"-

"Absolutely not!"

"It would end things in a snap"-

"General Brock," Germany huffed, "Do you want to be fired?"

"No, chief. I was just making a suggestion." He began to journey back to his seat and quickly looked at Germany. "You might want to consider the offer soon. You'll never know."

Italy had raced through the field with his generals in command. They all cocked their guns as did Italy. They were in full military uniform-looking as serious than ever as their bodies burned underneath the heat of the Sun.

The sound of a gunshot indicated that they had drawn near. Italy gestured with his hand for his generals to move forward.

"Andiamo! Andiamo!" They immediately obeyed his command and made a run for the battlefield, shooting along side with their soldiers that persisted to shoot down their opponents on the other side, only to end up falling to the ground. Italy grunted something inaudible as he watched them fall one by one.

"CHE FACETE?" Italy yelled at his soldiers, "Volete morire?" The ones remaining by his side shook their head.

"No! No! Faremmo migliore!" one of them cried. Italy nodded to them, satisfied enough by their words and kept firing until he noticed his crowd begin to pack in together. The Germans were retreating! He smiled to himself, feeling victorious.

"W-We won another battle!" he cried, "We won!" He knew it wasn't part of their agenda, but something about achieving a victory just felt so…invigorating!

One of the generals grasped Italy's arm and whispered something to him before leading him to the helicopter. Whatever it was, the words had been enough to make the Italian look sickly white.

"I'm assuming what just happened there was ALL part of your plan?" Germany asked the generals.

"Well, retreating was part of it," said one of them, "We were actually taking out the same number of soldiers that they had with ours-it was best to preserve the soldiers in this type of situation, don't you agree?" Germany sighed- a sign of surrender.

"Yes, I understand now. You are all dismissed." All but one general had left the meeting room. He instead neared towards Germany's side with papers in his hands that he handed to him.

"I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but obviously someone is either spying on the Italians or creating some kind of a horrifying bluff." Germany, looking disinterested took the papers.

"Just what kind of bluff could Italy"- He cut off his words and sat the edge of his seat, absorbing every word of paper and finally set it down on the table after reading it. He didn't slam it down on the table. He just let it… float onto there. He desperately looked at his General. "You are sure this is some kind of a joke, right?" He was shaking. "RIGHT?"

The general looked down and held the papers.

"I wish I was kidding, Boss." Germany remained silent for a few seconds.

"Bring me Brock," he said lowly.

"What was that, sir?"

"Bring me General Brock!" he commanded. The general eagerly obeyed his orders and ran out of the room. In no time, General Brock had arrived looking not only somber, but prepared with papers of his own along with a cell phone.

"You…wanted to speak with me, Boss?" he asked almost a little too innocently.

….

Nobody had decided to stop the enraged Italian from busting into the white room that was the laboratory-a base dedicated to science of all kinds-including technological warfare.

All the scientists stared at him blankly and had stopped everything as if time had frozen them over. Italy began to calm down a little.

"Where is it?" he asked, "I want it deactivated!" None of the scientists spoke up. Italy cleared his throat. "I am your boss-your chief and this has been done without my consent! This needs to be gone!"

Finally, a brave scientist stepped up to the plate and spoke.

"But we must go with this plan. You never know"-

"It's not that answer! I refuse!" Italy cried.

"We don't have to go through with it! We just have this in development in case the war becomes…too much."

"And I still won't do it! I could never bomb Germany! Never!" The scientist drew near him.

"Boss, we're in a war-and this time we're taking it seriously. Besides, this is a war between you and Germany! He's the enemy now." Italy relaxed his posture. "He has slaughtered our soldiers-OUR SOLDIERS! And he's never respected us. Do you really think Germany is your friend now?"

"That's why I'm fighting this war! To prove it!" said Italy, "I'll love Germany no matter what. I know he's hurt me and he doesn't think we're friends anymore, so to make him stay with me…"

"Then if that's what you want, you may have to use more than gun play." He then proceeded to show Italy the bomb in all its glory. "Welcome to war, Italy. It's about who can be the most aggressive." Italy looked back at his generals waiting at the entrance.

"Send a warning to Germany as well as an invitation to meet with me at Rome…if he wishes to discuss this."

The first thing Germany did when he got to the military base was make a call to Prussia. He had enough. Obviously Italy had perhaps learned a little bit too much from the disintegrated nation.

"Just what have you taught Italy?" Germany asked his brother on his line, "Do you know what he has done to me?"

"Relax, West!" Prussia laughed on the other line, "You're just getting your ass kicked by Italy. Face the music. 'Serves you right, too!"

"You don't understand! He's threatened to bomb me!" Prussia went silent, obviously indicating more than just shock. "We're meeting tomorrow at Rome, so maybe we can settle this, but"-

"I'm going to wait for him to get home. I need to talk to him out of this."

"Prussia"-

"I'm awesome enough to teach Italy how to use weapons and stuff, but bombing? That's serious trouble. Bombing is not awesome unless it's being done by me."

"Prussia, I can do this! Currently we're"-

"He's getting way too carried away now! Don't you get it? He's turning into you!" Neither Germany or Prussia talked for a few minutes. "Listen, I gotta go. He's here, so…bye." And then Prussia hung up the phone, leaving his younger brother hanging.

A/N: FINALLY I BREAK OUT OF WRITER'S BLOCK. Oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy. Finally, I'm gonna start updating this more often. For once, I have something to do/complete over the summer~ Thank you kind viewers for your support and sorry this one took a while as well.