It was late in the evening, and Germany sat in his bedroom inspecting an old broom he had stumbled upon while cleaning. A long time ago, back when he was still referred to as Holy Rome, the broom had been given to him by Italy, one of Mr. Austria's servants, as a parting gift when he had left Austria's household. The broom brought back many happy memories of them living together in Austria's house. For a brief time, they had been happy, and everything was working out fine, but then turbulence in the house had forced Holy Rome to leave. He had never seen Italy again, and had been too busy to look for her.
Now Germany knew a different person named Italy. The new Italy was cowardly fool who was way too obsessed with pasta, but Germany still remained allies with him because he reminded him of his old love. Although he had never brought up the topic, Germany also thought that this new Italy might know what had happened to the old one.
Of course, being that he was in the middle of a great world war against the Allied powers, it hardly seemed the time go searching for Italy. Still, he desperately missed her. After he had left Austria's house, he had dreamed about her almost every night, and had vowed to return to her as soon as time allowed for it. Unfortunately, this moment had never come, and soon Holy Rome, now called Germany, had all but forgotten about his old love.
If only she had accepted my offer, he thought wistfully. We would have made a powerful new Roman Empire together. We could have taken over the world, and she would be right beside me the whole time. Where are you Italy? Why did you have to leave me?
By this point Germany was in tears, sobbing uncontrollably into the broom as he thought about what could have been, and faced the possibility that he could easily never see that young, red-haired girl again. What am I doing? He asked himself in disgust, I am no longer a child, I am Germany, the most powerful nation on Earth! I shouldn't be crying over something like this!
Still, he continued, I must see her again, or at least find out what happened to her. As soon as I destroy those puny Allied nations, I will do whatever it takes to locate her. Italy is my only love, and I want nothing more than to have her by my side as the world revolves around the great axis that I have created.
"And this time," he vowed, saying the last bit out loud, "I will never leave her." Tired out from his monologue, he got up to put the broom back, but was interrupted by a familiar cry.
"Doitsu! Doitsu! Doi-" Feliciano Vargas stopped in his tracks as he opened the door to Germany's room. "What's that?" He asked, suddenly serious, as he gestured at the broom.
"What, this?" Germany responded, "It's a gift I received a long time ago from an old friend."
Italy prepared to respond but stopped as he saw Germany's eyes. "Have you been... crying?"
"What? No! Of course not! I'm German, we're incapable of crying."
"Sure..." Italy commented, unconvinced. "Who was this friend of yours, anyway?" He inquired.
Germany let out a sigh and explained, "Well, she was a girl I met back when I lived at Mr. Austria's house. Her name was Italy, like yours. Anyway, she was a wonderful girl, drew really well, cleaned for Mr. Austria a lot, this and that and this and that..." As he continued to describe her, Italy grew increasingly wide eyed, and by the time he had got to the part about her leaving, tears were streaming down his face.
"H-Holy Rome?" He said softly. Germany stopped and looked up at him in surprise.
"Yes, that's what I was called..."
"Holy Rome!" Italy cried out joyfully as he ran to Germany and pulled him down for a long kiss.
After getting over the initial shock, Germany pulled himself from Italy's grasp and looked at him in confusion. "But... you were a girl..." he commented, bewildered.
"No," Italy objected, "everyone thought I was, but I'm actually a boy. Is this bad?" He asked after a pause, concern in his voice.
Germany ignored his question and collapsed into a nearby chair, deep in thought. This new knowledge had certainly made things a lot more awkward, and ruined most of his childhood memories. Still, Italy was the only person he had ever loved, so he felt a deep connection with him. After many tense moments of consideration, he eventually decided that it didn't matter that Italy was a boy, he still loved him with a passion. After making this decision, he walked up to Italy-who was extremely worried by this point-and kissed him again.
They stood there for what seemed like an eternity, tears of joy flowed from both of the reconciled lovers as they enjoyed a great, heartwarming bliss. Then, they were interrupted as the door opened, and they looked up to see Japan standing wide-eyed in the doorway, frozen in shock at the sight before him. "Um... is this a bad time?" He stuttered awkwardly. Germany and Italy both tried unsuccessfully to mutter some kind of response, and Japan continued, "I think I'll just leave you two to... er... um... bye."
As he raced away from the room as fast as he could, Japan muttered to himself, "I will never understand western nations..."