Title: A Man's Passion

Author: Tsuki no Akebono

Main Character: Romano (S. Italy) and Antonio (Spain)

Summary: Spain was known to be a country of Passion just as France is known to be the country of Love and America as the country of Opportunities. But where was the Passion when Romano left, taken away by the people who he vowed he would protect him from?Where was his passion when he knew that Romano would be covered in blood, sin and guilt? Where was his Passion when he knew that Romano was only ever going to be second best to his brother? Where was is then? Where? Antonio x Romano

A Man's Passion…

Could only go so far

Without the proper resolve

He knew that this day would come.

When the Fates decided to take him away from him in favor of doing his duty. When he would serve as the Boss of all Mafia Boss'.

But it shouldn't happen so soon.

He vowed he would protect Romano. But what did he do? Nothing.

Romano was just a boy. But he was already a country…not much, but all the same. A country.

But unlike his younger brother, he wasn't the one who gained the major honor of being called Italy. He was doomed to live his life different at that fact. Their lives were going to become opposite to each others.

While his brother would one day take the mantle and live above ground, basking in the joy and light. Romano would one day take his place in the shadows, protecting Feliciano. He would bask in bloodshed and death.

Feliciano would enjoy the sights of meadows and flowers, Romano would detest the sight of corpses and blood. Italy would be glorified in pasta and pizza, Romano would be glorified by gunshots and daily attempts on his life.

When Spain knew the life Romano would have lead, he vowed with all his passion that he would protect Romano and keep him out of that life. His ward—Romano—just laughed. The kind of laugh you would never expect from a child. It was cold and empty, no trace of humor and no trace of joy. It was a laugh of a broken man. A broken Nation.

But that was impossible. Romano was just a boy; barely a nation. Yet he would never become a Nation, never BE called a Nation. Not without a title…

One that already belonged to his brother. Romano was left with nothing but the darkness. And there was absolutely nothing they could do about it.

Despite his passionate promise, here he was letting Romano go when a man dressed in a neat and crisp suit with a fedora came. He tried to reason with Romano. But Romano ignored his presence and acted as if he was never even there.

He left behind his half eaten tomato, not bothering to pack. He just took the hand of the man and left. Without even bothering to say good bye.

Where was his passion then?

He knew that Fate—Time—Destiny—whatever you call that personified existence of Change; existed. He wanted to reason with him...her…it. But he found he couldn't even move. It was like Time itself stopped and the inevitable was supposed to happen.

He just let Romano go. That was when he realized that his passion was nothing when he couldn't even abandon his all.

He was Spain. He was Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. He was a Nation. All nations have a gist of their existence. From the time he was "born", he knew that he would pass through an age of glory and greed and perhaps a little cruelty…but he knew that it would pass…eventually.

It was similar to Romano too. He was born with a language that wasn't even made yet. He was born to protect the "TRUE" nation that was Italy—Feliciano. He wasn't even considered an Italy, not with everyone calling him Romano instead of South Italy. Sure it was tedious and long and frustrating to call someone a name with two words, but Romano was South Italy. And therefore, he should've been called as such, but no. No one sees him as an Italy—heck, everyone forgets he even existed. But right now that doesn't matter. What matters most was…

Antonio knew he failed his little Romano.

Both of them knew that when this little vigilante group called the "mafia" was born—Romano would be taken away by "Fate" and return back to Italy where he would become the Boss of Mafia Boss'. But even Antonio knew that it was pointless. Romano would just simply be swept away with the tide of change, by his peoples' cries and choices. Even if he was called the Boss of all Boss—it was an empty title. One that he could do without…

It was a bit of a mockery really to be called as such but can't really use its power. After all, a Nation relies on the choices of his people. A Nation was nothing but a form that exists for the people and by the people. They were nothing more than a tool to prove that their people coexist as one.

Antonio knew that if Romano wished for something—his little "mafia" would want nothing more but to accomplish this. Things were going to happen around Romano, for Romano…and his sweet little innocent Romano could do nothing more but close his eyes and pray—ignoring the sounds of mercy and of gunshots.

There was nothing else he could do after all. A Nation must be kept neutral from all the choices and deeds his people do. He must not ALTER or DEFY the wishes of the people. He must not give SUBTLE opinions of WHAT a Nation wants. A Nation must never give in to their wishes and qualms. A Nations existence was only to serve and in turn be served.

[But that wasn't the case with you is it, Romano?]

Because not only do you serve your people…you also serve your brother. Don't you, Romano?

You exist after all only for him. Your existence was created first to prepare the path for your fratello after all. You said yourself. You are the older brother. The elder must always protect the younger. The younger must never covered in blood. That was the elder's role, to become the shield that guides and protects the younger. Even if it means to be stained with sin. Death would seem more appropriate, but Nations cannot die so easily. Sin and bloodshed seemed more appropriate, because SIN brought the never ending bloodstain and the never ending guilt and the nightmares that will never leave.

Spain knew these, he experienced these and kept wondering why he let Romano just walk away from him and into that darkness. When he felt those...nightmares—it was a phase his people (and himself) just passed through. But to Romano, it wasn't a phase. Rather it was going to be his way of living.

Spain knew he was a fool.

Antonio knew why he simply let Romano be lead away.

[He knew why his passion wasn't enough.]

Because when he looked into the face of Change—that cruel, vindictive, unwavering smile of the personified form of Change (fate, destiny, time—whatever), Antonio Fernandez Carriedo—Spain—knew then and there that whatever he would do. Nothing would change.

They were helpless.

Their existence was toyed around by a simply nudge from that figure.

Antonio knew why his passion was not enough.

Because passion alone was foolish, without the proper resolve nothing would change.

Antiono began to if he ever had the passion to begin with.

He began to wonder if it ever existed.

But even if the questions began to pile up, it doesn't change anything.

Romano was gone.

[And there was nothing he could do.]

Could he still ever look his beloved Romano is eye ever again?

But as he slid to the floor, just as his tears began to flow. He heard Romano call out to him by his human name. He never heard Romano do that before. He was more than startled to be honest. He looked up quickly and saw Romano wave him goodbye with a smile on his face. The figure beside him waved as well and held a smile—this one was not vindictive, it wasn't cruel, rather it was warm and soft and filled with sympathy and kindness.

Antonio knew then he had no right to be sad. Romano must have been in greater pain—but he'll never know. After all, a Nation's proudest moment is when their boss tells them they are needed and that they are proud to be called one of the Nation's people.

So Spain lifted his chin up and smiled, waved and cried.

Because even if Romano would live in darkness and bloodshed. He would never abandon his little Romano…his very own little tomato.

His passion wasn't even needed then.

Spain never felt so glad.

A/N: yes, I know. A little of Italy bashing there I know. But it can't be helped you know. If you THINK about it Romano's life is a little sad. He's Southern Italy for crying out loud! And yet people keep calling him Romano—I know, I do it too. But it's SAD...to be called Romano even though your title is Italy too. :(

Anyway, I don't particularly like Flames. I don't dislike them. But your FLAMES must be CONSTRUCTIVE CRITISISM. If it's a flame because you think I'm stupid to have thought like such a plot or because it's too WHINY or CRAPPY (which by the way doesn't explain anything).

Fuck you.

That isn't constructive at all and I hope you realize that sooner.

If you're going to be bitchy about my imperfection here's the deal. NO ONE IS PERFECT! I know im kinda rude here. But only it's because freaks ruin perfectly awesome writers. And I know that I can't write immaculately, that doesn't mean people can just hate me for it. You might dislike me for it but hate—urgh…

Anyway, if you don't like it…don't read it. Duh. That's what I do.

R&&R please.

I'm not so sure you'll do that after that tirade above though… sorry.

I so TOTALLY fail as an a writer right about now.