Another new story~ Yes, I am very proud of this one! It took me around a month to complete, working on and off. I can proudly say this is the longest fanfic I've worked on... and it's only the first chapter! Twenty six pages, including two pages of translations. I know they may not be exact, but I'll fix them later. I can can say for a fact that there will be four chapters in all and that they will contain different characters. This one is mainly based around Feliciano, the next will be both Antonio and Lovino, the third shall be Gilbert and Ludwig, and the last one will be the conclusion. I really hope you all enjoy this. There possibly may be spinoffs, but I'd have to see about them.

It was no small wonder that Feliciano loved to sing. His voice had a soothing and ethereal tone that teased his audience with sweet words, swaying with the music like it was his partner in a dance. Underneath the alternating lights, draping him in white spotlights and green and red lowlights, he felt like he was on top of the world. However, even as the lyrics to his first and second song flowed from his mouth like sweet honey, the singer felt far from the upbeat persona he was emitting. It hadn't been like that at first, he had started to sing with all of his being, but that was until…

Until… he didn't see those eyes.

His excited façade had faded, leaving him with a shell of his personality. However, he still had to sing, so he forced a smile on his face, the usual sway into his body. He had to please his fans, even if he was largely saddened that that mysterious person with those beautiful blue eyes wasn't there. Dancing along the raised platform that served as their stage at the Eisernes Kreuz night club, carefully avoiding any stray wire that could trip him, he blew a kiss towards a random fan, who cheered loudly at having gotten even a slice of attention from the attractive singer. His nimble fingers returning to the instrument's strings, he burst out in a duet with his backup guitarist, who sent him a challenging glance. The song they slipped into was a crowd favorite no matter where they went.

"In my right hand is a white flag! In my left hand is pasta~!

Wave your flag, wave your flag, it's a flag-waving parade!

Towards the enchanting world, let's go!"

Pausing to catch his breath, he tilted his head to see the person behind him, ivory keys being coaxed into a dramatic solo with the guitarists backing him up gently. A similar voice to his own filled the room for several more verses, allowing him to scour the audience in search of those eyes. It was a hopeless task, as he saw no sign of those beautiful blue eyes. Still, that fake smile stayed on his face, turning back to his music. His manager would scold him if he was found to be unfocused, but Feliciano knew that he probably had already noticed as the first song started, that his prized singer was distracted. He let out a brief sigh, so soft that it was like a figment of someone's imagination.

"Take our hands, make a circle, spin, and it's the world

My sparkling boots are - getting dirty, you jerk!"

At that point, the backup guitarist had invaded the keyboardist' space, lips connecting with a now red cheek. The fans erupted into cheers even as the flustered young man snapped at the guitarist, irritation flooding his tone. This did nothing to deter the smiling Spaniard, who obliviously missed the heated glares of hatred sent his way.

"Green, white, red is the Italian tricolor flag

I'll skin your muscles off! Hetalia!"

The main singer chuckled at the exchange between his brother and friend. Those lines never were exactly the right lyrics due to the various distractions that constantly plagued him during his singing solo. He never minded, in fact, he enjoyed them. Although Romano appeared to be annoyed at his boyfriend's public display of attention, the younger brother could easily tell he was putting on a hostile front because he didn't want any of his fans to know that he actually liked Antonio's advances. The Italian brushed his auburn bangs aside, plucking the various strings of his guitar and lost himself in the vortex of music, trying to keep the ache in his heart from growing. Briefly he heard the other guitarist's voice rise above the instruments. Antonio always loved to sing to the fans, the Italian mused, watching the older man smile.

"Today, it's an abundant harvest parade!

Sound your instruments, it's time to march!

If everyone at 'one-two' makes the ensemble

The one and only song will be complete."

His accent rolled over the words, enticing the fans as he swayed his hips to the tune, smiling playfully at the audience. Their cheers were like music to his ears, but he kept glancing at the fuming keyboardist near him. It was adorable when Lovino acted like that. Even if he attempted to give attention to his audience, he would look jealous. He sent Feliciano a wink when the younger Italian looked towards him, eliciting a small smile from him.

"Viva l'allegria! If it's a good thing, then let's bask in it and drink!

La pasión no se detiene! The loud cheers keep growing passionate!

Viva l'allegria! Loud cheers for the girls."

Their voices flowed together with each of their complimenting verses. The irritation had drifted away from his brother, the usually scowling Italian now wearing a small smile. If asked about the facial expression, the other would have denied the fact easily. Listening to the music and lyrics, he knew that their song was nearing an end, the beat picking up a faster pace. Body moving to the beat, his lips parted, joining in with the other two voices to converge on the last word.


Applause roared into existence at the finale, Antonio and him ending the song with a loud chord. Although his downtrodden emotional state wasn't improving, he swelled with pride when he saw the fans begging for more. A few roses were thrown on stage, and he reached out to catch one, inhaling the sweet scent. He responded to a high pitched squeal that emitted from the crowd by giving her one of his trademark smiles.

Three songs straight they had played, time passing by so quickly. Nodding to their manager, Feliciano motioned for his brother and friend to clear the stage for a bit to gather some energy, as well as to let a small local band come on stage for a quick performance of their own. A small Japanese man walked up to the musicians, three water bottles in his hands. His brother huffed and rolled his eyes as he thanked him, grabbing a water bottle and retreating to the bathroom in an attempt to get away from his boyfriend, still mad at him for the distraction on stage. Antonio picked up the second water bottle, giving him a huge smile.

"I'll be right back!" The ever-cheerful Spaniard dashed away to cheer up his boyfriend. Feliciano was left there staring after the two, still trying to desperately keep his happy-go-lucky attitude together. If he even so much as looked at Kiku, he knew it would fall apart; the other knew him too well. Fiddling with the water bottle, he tried to look distracted, as if interested in the band that was starting to play.

"Feliciano-kun, may I speak to you?" The Japanese man looked at the lead singer, who blinked, a smile stuck on his face.

"Veh? Of course! No need to ask, Kiku, you're my manager!" Feliciano let out a forced giggle, closing his eyes as he looked towards him.

"Feliciano-kun, you've been distracted ever since you started the first song." The singer shook his head, denying the fact with a carefree response. Kiku frowned slightly, seeing past it all, waiting for the façade to fall. When Feliciano didn't respond to the silence, he opened his lips again, knowing exactly what to say to gain his attention.


The Italian opened his eyes, the smile fading quickly under the older man's quiet gaze. He looked shocked. Kiku had addressed him with his stage name and without an honorific at the end. Ever since Kiku and Feliciano had become best friends, the younger man finally getting past Kiku's defenses, Kiku had always called him by his actual name instead of his last name. Sighing, his shoulders slumped. He saw through it all, didn't he? Nothing could get past Kiku's ability to somehow read the atmosphere.

"I appreciate that you managed to still push through the three songs without anyone else noticing, however, it's making me worried."

Feliciano looked around; making sure no one else was in view. There was a curtain hiding them from the audience and the stage. Walking to a cluster of chairs, he sat down on one, slumping forward onto his knees, putting his face in his hands. With a sigh, the manager followed him, sitting down on a chair facing him. Placing his hands on his lap, he waited for the unusually quiet Italian to speak. He had to admit how unnerving it was. Usually the singer across from him was so lively and full of happiness, seeing him in this state… It was almost disturbing. Waiting patiently, he watched the young man take a deep breath… before he launched into his native language.

"Non lo so. Non ho visto quegli occhi azzurri; quelli che ho citato prima. Gli stessi Ho visto la costantemente da allora il nostro primo concerto tre anni fa? Cosa succede se Si sono annoiati di mio musica? Ho scritto 'Amore' solo per-"

Kiku furrowed his eyebrows, trying to decipher the Italian, but his skills were quite rusty. The only thing he had recognized was the name of the newest song he had written – Amore. He quickly cut him off before the fast paced ramble could continue even further.

"Feliciano-kun, please speak English. I can't understand what you are saying." The Italian paused, finally looking up at the smaller man with a confused look before he realized he had been speaking in his own language. He gave a shaky smile.

"Veeh, sorry Kiku… I was just talking about the blue eyed person who always shows up at my concerts, no matter where I play…" Feliciano looked down at his hands, fiddling with a bracelet on his right wrist. The slightly thick silk cord bracelet was light blue and had cherry blossom petals blowing across it; it was a treasured item, one that he hardly ever took off. It contrasted nicely with his silk black button-up shirt, royal blue vest, and his black pants which were striped along the sides with the colors of the Italian flag. Kiku's dark eyes found the bracelet and he smiled briefly. He remembered giving that to Feliciano when he turned nineteen. It had been a gesture that reflected their two year anniversary of meeting each other, a few days before he proposed that he would be honored to be their manager for their newly started band. As it turned out, whenever he got nervous or distressed, he always fiddled with the bracelet to calm him down.

"The blue eyes, yes I do remember… Feliciano, do you remember me telling you about akai ito?" Kiku asked. The singer nodded. Akai ito, or rather, the red string of fate; he had listened to the many stories that display the legend. A small smile flickered over his lips. It was a legend he wished was real. Holding out his right hand and staring at his little finger, he let out a sigh, wishing he was able to see what he heard about.

"Connecting to the little finger, the crimson thread is said to represent that the two souls are meant to be together. Although the thread may tangle or stretch, it will never be broken." Kiku continued. He waited for the other to make the connection he was referencing. His eyes traveled to the raised hand, his face calm and collected. There was indeed a string tied around the little finger, shining bright red. However, it was concerning how tangled and frayed it was, the length lying lifeless on the ground, heading out towards the audience before disappearing. It had been like that ever since he first saw it, though the color looked brighter for some reason The ability to see the string was quite rare, a gift so revered back in his country. His Chinese cousin claimed that he shared this ability, although he preferred not to speak about it too much, having a small problem of his being attached to a certain childlike, yet intimidating Russian soldier. His own string… well it was a special case considering that it split off into two… a certain Greek with a passion for cats was on one end while the new Turkish driver he hired was on the other. Such a dilemma…

"Veh?" Cluelessly he tilted his head to one side, the verbal tic of the Italian letting the Japanese man know that he wasn't getting it. Kiku waited, knowing it would click. Feliciano looked from his manager to his hand and back again, understanding showing in his expression.

"You can't possibly mean that whoever the person is, is my destined partner. I don't even know if they are male or female!" He began to ramble, warm amber eyes still locked onto where the string was supposedly tied.

"Feliciano-kun, you told me those eyes looked so familiar, as if you knew them before?" Kiku looked deep in thought. The Italian quieted down, nodding. He was missing quite a few memories from his childhood in Italy, but no one in his family would give him hints on it, other than he was involved in a bad accident. Lovino refused to speak about it, getting angry whenever prodded, his mother could only hug him tightly, and his grandfather could only smile sadly. If he knew anyone with eyes as beautiful as the ocean, he couldn't recall them. Not wanting to see his best friend down in the dumps, Kiku stood up, glancing to see that the local band was leaving the stage.

"Perhaps they will show up later? Your concert isn't over with, and you still have that show in two days over in Berlin. If you are lucky… Maybe you will be able to meet them and find out for yourself. Now go fetch your brother and his boyfriend, you're up in five minutes." Kiku said, smiling slightly as the Italian singer saluted his friend with a huge grin and ran to the bathroom. The smile fell from his lips when he was left alone, turning towards the curtain and peeking out from behind it with a hint of annoyance in his eyes. Slipping out his cell phone, he started typing a message to the stagehand that should have been there hours ago to help set everything up.

"Loviiii~ Antonio!" With the renewed flame flickering on that burnt out candlewick of hope, his cheerful nature was starting to creep back into place. A much more natural smile replaced the forced one as he bounced through the small hallway, flinging open the bathroom door without a care in the world.

"Veeh, fratello~" He stopped in the doorway, staring at his brother who was trying to get away from a very affectionate Antonio, whose teeth were nibbling on his curl.

"C-chigi! Bastardo! Let go!" Lovino hissed at his boyfriend, smacking away his wandering hands. A crimson hue was staining his cheeks as he realized his younger brother was in the bathroom. Antonio followed the gaze of his feisty lover and his smile grew, withdrawing his teeth from the abused curl.

"Feli, what brings you in here?" the cheerful Spaniard asked, bringing Lovino closer, much to his protest. The singer giggled and clasped his hands behinds his back, bouncing in place. Nervousness was starting to set in, for a good reason. The song he was working on, one that took many tries to get right, was going to be premiered that night.

"Kiku said that we're up in a few minutes!" With that sentence said, the younger Vargas brother was gone, leaving Lovino to fume in his boyfriend's arms. As the door swung shut, the taller of the two turned slightly, his smile never fading. The keyboardist avoided his eyes, hands straining at each other as a mini world war brewed in his head. Hazel eyes darted around to make sure they were completely alone. Frowning, he locked gazes with the other, the blush deepening on his tanned skin. He quickly pecked his lover on the lips, which surprised the guitarist.

"T-ti amo, tomato bastardo…" The insulting nickname never fazed Antonio. To him, it was a title of endearment, in Lovino's own language. Around the small Italian, he couldn't help himself.

"Te amo, Lovino." The Spaniard's lips descended gently upon Lovino's own before he pulled back, running a finger down his face. The Italian stayed still for a minute before he turned towards the door, face as red as a tomato. The Antonio stared at the Italian as his gaze dropped, watching that butt swing side to side. The other man felt the gaze and glared back at him.

Feliciano was fiddling with the bracelet once more when his brother and Antonio walked out to join him. Kiku nodded towards them and looked towards the stage, which was being rearranged for them.

"You're up." Kiku looked towards Feliciano, sending him an encouraging smile. The singer relaxed and nodded, walking on stage and grabbing his guitar as his fellow band mates followed him. His fingers glided over the strings, barely making a sound. His amber eyes closed, waiting for the two to get ready. Thoughts spilled through his head like water rushing through a canyon, chaotic and free, heard even over the chattering crowd that was eager to see what song would be played next.

'What if I mess the song up?'

'The lyrics are not perfect yet…'

'Those blue eyes, are they here?'

'Do they know this song's for them?'

Taking a small breath, he forced them to the back of his head, the raging river turning into a trickling stream. Opening his eyes, the wooden stage staring back up at him, he turned slightly to the left to nod to Antonio and Lovino. It was time. His nimble fingers moving to start the intro, a soft sound echoed throughout the club. Melancholy in nature, like a dancer without a partner, twirling in the moonlight with the stars as her only companions, the crowd was enraptured by it, no one daring to move as if that simple movement may break the spell. Pausing his fingers, he looked up at the crowd with a mischievous grin. Everyone held their breath, wondering what was going to happen next. Bringing his hand down to the strings, he broke into a more joyful tune, ivory keys and strings threading their way into the music as they all swayed to the music. Licking his lips nervously, he parted them, confidence building up.

"Beneath the Venice skies and the shining sun

Side by side we stand with laughter surrounding

Still as I melt in your haunting gaze that burns me so

I wish I had the courage to say…

Ti amo~"

Cheers erupted as he blew a kiss to the audience, fan girls and boys alike thinking it was to them. His bright eyes soared over the crowd lazily, loving the positive reactions he was getting from them. His eyes drifted over to where his manager was and saw him looking around, as if trying to find someone in the crowd. Before he could wonder further about it, a flash of intense color drew his attention away. Blinking quickly, he glanced over to where the color had been, trying to see through the blinding spotlights. He almost stumbled through his next verse in shock.

Those blue eyes… They were there!

Hidden slightly behind the curtain, Kiku smiled, watching the silent exchange. He withdrew from his position and walked back stage, ready to reprimand his late stagehand. Honing in on a white haired person, his lips twisted into a frown. Feliciano never broke eye contact with those beautiful eyes, singing from his heart. His heart was fluttering like a butterfly inside his chest, straining to escape the cage it was contained in. At times he felt himself feeling as if he was being disconnected from his body, the noise and music fading away, color dimming until it was only those blue eyes. Words flowed from his lips, but they never truly reached his ears, not until a sharp pain stabbed through his mind like a burning iron poker. Amber eyes closing tightly, he had to restrain from wincing, trying to disguise it as a heartfelt reaction to his lyrics.

Instantly the older Italian's eyes snapped onto his brother, having seen a sign that something was wrong with his brother. Frowning, his gaze darted towards the crowds and narrowed even further when they spotted those eyes. He muttered under his breath, careful to lean away from the microphone, cursing those eyes. He glanced over to his boyfriend, catching his gaze before he tilted his head slightly towards his brother. Almost immediately the Spaniard understood the dilemma. Luckily for them, there was only an encore song left to perform after this. If it was longer, they would have had to cut it down. Another pain distracted the singer and his lips went on auto-pilot.

Flower petals drifted through the high branches above, teasingly dancing out of reach with a bree-

Laughter spilled from his companion's lips. So contagious it was that he found himself giggling alo-

- tripped, spilling pasta over the floor.

Finding himself back in club, the singer felt overwhelmed and dizzy. Singing the last words, they echoed through the air, the music drifting away to dance in the echoes. As soon as the crowd went wild, many fans proclaiming their love for any of the three band mates, Lovino snagged a bottle of water and walked over to Feliciano, shoving it into his hands with a knowing look. The singer stepped away from the microphone, thanking his brother. He took a deep swig of the water, trying to get himself back into the game. Placing the bottle out of the way when he felt better, he turned back to the audience to provide them with a finishing encore.

Needless to say, the encore went by fast. Feliciano could barely remember it. In a daze, he took a bow with his brother and his brother's boyfriend, thanking his fans for coming out to support them. Hiding his tired expression behind a happier one, he waved to them before he walked off stage, all the while attempting to find those blue eyes again. When he did, he could only kept eye contact for a few seconds before the curtain obstructed his view. Slipping off his guitar, he packed it up in its respectful case, rubbing his forehead in a discreet manner, trying to will the remnants of the pain away. Lovino and Antonio were just finishing packing up their own instruments when Kiku walked in, holding his phone to his chest and looking quite distressed, so unusual for the usually reserved Japanese man.

"Lovino, Feliciano…"

The almost nonexistent tone caused the Vargas brothers to immediately turn towards their manager. Antonio's smile faded slightly, not understanding how their manager was acting so strange.

"Your 'mother' Elizabeta… She and her husband Roderich were involved in a car crash back in Italy. I don't know how serious it is but I think it's in your best interest to go back to support them. I can cancel the Berlin concert and reschedule it later."

Feliciano stared at his best friend, his eyes widening. Elizabeta? She was…. And Roderich? Although they weren't truly their parents, after the Vargas' brothers' mother and father died when they were little, they acted as surrogate parents, helping to relieve the burden off their grandfather. He spared a glance to his brother, knowing that beneath that exterior of his, he was also worried. Feliciano reached out for his brother, craving something, anything, to prove that it'd be alright. Lovino, without a second thought, grabbed that hand and pulled his brother into a tight hug. The older brother stared past his brother, muscles tensed and the slightest tremor could be seen shaking his form. Feliciano gripped his brother's back, the silk material of his green shirt crinkling in his tight grip. To see that his brother had thrown his stubborn pride out the window to comfort him, it meant so much to him.

"Don't cry Feli, it'll be okay." Lovino felt his shirt start to become damp, the younger brother's form shaking with silent sobs. He quickly pulled back slightly and wiped the tears away. Antonio came over to hug the two, kissing his boyfriend's forehead and kissing the top of Feliciano's head. Lovino glanced up at the Spaniard, for once not sending him a snappish response. Those eyes drifted back down, leaning his head against his boyfriend's, trying desperately not to break, staying strong for his fratellino. However, his resolve was weakening and a few tears trailed down his cheeks.

Kiku hated seeing his band in such pain, especially since it was he who had to break the news to them after a rather successful performance. He bit his lower lip and raised the phone back to his ear, turning away from them slightly.

"Yes, I relayed the news to the Vargas brothers… Thank you for contacting us. Please inform the hospital we will arrive as soon as possible." The Japanese man spoke calmly to the person on the other line and politely bid them goodbye before he started to dial another number, ready to cancel their next performance. He knew it would lose them money, but he put his band's happiness over anything else.

Behind the Cieli di Venezia band members, standing at the stagehand entrance to backstage, crimson eyes were wide in disbelief. Did he hear correctly? His cousin and his wife got into a car accident? He stepped back, much to the concern of the blonde next to him. Glancing back behind the curtain, he spotted his brother who was waiting for them at the back of the room while everyone was still chattering excitingly about the band that had just played, waiting for the DJ to put music on. Raising a hand to drag it through his white hair, he turned to mutter something to his companion.

"Hey, birdy, could you fetch my bruder? Have him wait just outside of the curtain. I have to speak to Kiku." His voice was low and filled with uncertainty, but the Canadian simply nodded and slipped past the curtain to retrieve the albino's brother, attempting to find his way through the crowds. Slowly the white haired individual walked up to his employer, tapping him on the shoulder.


Finishing his call, the Japanese man looked over at him, signaling that he had his attention. Frowning, he recalled that Roderich was Gilbert's cousin and understanding showed on his face before Gilbert could say anything.

"You can fly back ahead of us to check on how he is doing."

Gilbert sighed in relief and turned around, but he then had an idea, glancing at Feliciano and then at the equipment, which the club had graciously already packed into their respective boxes. That idea, if it had been visible, would have been a light bulb that burned so bright, that it could have blinded everyone with the awesome plan he hatched up.

"I'll leave you my brother to help clean up, he's better at moving large heavy objects. Just don't tell Feli, I have… a little surprise for him. I just figured… it may be time. It's an awesome idea." Gilbert jerked his head in the direction of the curtain. Kiku followed his gaze to see the blonde with those blue eyes, the ones his singer had fallen in love with. A small hint of a smile twisted his lips and he agreed. Perhaps it was time, especially when he remembered how Lovino said that Feliciano was remembering some memories. The albino turned and walked back out of the curtained area, going to talk to his brother to bring him the bad news. Turning towards his band, the ravenette called their names softly to get their attention. Feliciano had calmed down, drying his eyes with his sleeve. He drew back from his brother and Antonio, trying to think positive. Perhaps his parents were only minorly injured. That small fragment of hope helped lessen the heartache.

"I already gave the Nacht Puls the news about our cancelation and how we will reschedule it some other time. Antonio, I want you and Lovino to head back towards the hotel and pack your suitcases, Feliciano's as well. I need to go sort out our tickets back to Italy, but I will return to the hotel to pick up my suitcase. We all will meet at the airport to catch our plane. Feliciano, I feel bad for asking this of you, but could you help Gilbert pack up the truck? He'll be right back there in a few minutes." Kiku instructed his band. Feliciano's face fell, but he didn't say anything. He simply nodded and walked back to the loading area, only glancing over his shoulder to see the three leave. He almost pouted. The Japanese man risked a glance back, spying Feliciano just as he disappeared from view. He disliked having to do this to the Italian, but the result will be worth it… Yes, well worth it.

It was such an annoyance, having to help load up the truck without any help. Sure Kiku said Gilbert would return with help, as he had to do… whatever else he had to do, he didn't pay too much attention. It was usually just his job. The young Italian pursed his lips, pouting down at the small box of wires and microphones as he walked up to it. Why did Lovino and Antonio get sent out to pack their belongings in that hotel? Kneeling down, he carefully picked up the box, shuffling over to the truck parked just outside the back door. Luckily the club had a great reputation and was in the nicer part of town. Easing the small box to one side of the truck, he sighed and went to a larger box, studying it with a pitiful eye. His mind was still reeling with both the news of his mother and father in an accident and those strange fragmented images that had assaulted his head, although he couldn't remember them in full detail. They were all mixed up and blurred together. It wasn't too unusual, happening quite a bit for the past few months. He rubbed his head, feeling lightheaded all of a sudden. He cursed himself for not grabbing water when he had the chance. For a few minutes, he stood next to the back of the truck, leaning on it to will the dizziness away. It didn't work. Sighing, wanting to get the job done already, he decided against having to go back into the back room to hunt down the cooler. More than likely, it had probably been moved and he would spend half an hour wandering the back stage to find it.

"I wonder if that person left yet… They came… If only they knew how much that meant to me…" A soft smile flickered onto his lips, allowing that one fact to comfort him as he surveyed what needed to be done. There were so many other boxes, some that required having at least two people to lift it. Disheartened, he crossed his arms over his chest, his bottom lip stuck out in a rather adorable looking pout. How would he be able to do this? Even with Gilbert helping, or rather, him helping Gilbert, he wasn't strong enough to lift up some of the boxes. Shaking his head at the thought of him being buried underneath a pile of heavy boxes filled with equipment, his hair curl bobbed frantically. That was scary just to think about it! Trying to think of something else, he knelt down and shuffled his hands into position in order to carry the box in front of him. Hefting it up, he used his hip to help displace some of the weight. Wavering in place, he tried to find his balance, taking a step towards the door. A smile flickered on his lips as he found his balance and was about to take another step when the pain hit.

The little maid's dress billowed in the gentle breeze, tickling the white fabric that half encased the short auburn hair and dancing with the single curl that escaped it. Holding out his hands the little boy twirled in place, loving the feel of the sun on his face, the wind blowing through his hair, the scent of flowers teasing his nose. What was making the day even better was the person who was with him in the meadow.

"F-Feli!" The small boy glanced behind him as he stopped spinning, a bright smile on his lips. His eyes were closed tightly, although it was obvious that he could see his companion. The other boy running up to him stopped a foot away, panting. He looked at the other, his face red. In his hand was a small violet, blooming happily. He held it out to the other boy, having a hard time meeting his eyes.

"I-I thought it suited you." The brunette reached out to pluck the offered violet happily, delicately fixing it into his hair before hugging his friend, a giggle escaping his lips.

"Veeeh, it's so pretty, grazie!" He stared into those beautiful blue eyes.





"Are you alright?" An accent similar to Gilbert's broke the dizzying silence; however, his brain hardly registered someone kneeling next to him on the ground. Wait… Did he fall? His hand was holding his head, finding himself half on his stomach, his arm supporting the upper half of his body. His legs were splayed behind him in a curled position and the box of wires and microphone stands was overturned on front of him, its contents spilling out from where he dropped it. How could he have not remembered falling? And why was the world black? Oh… His eyes were closed. Opening them proved futile, as the sudden clash of colors made his head spin even more. Wait… The person had spoken to him, right? However the words had made no sense in his state of mind, leaving the only word to leave his mouth…


The person next to him let out a soft sigh and placed a rather large hand on his shoulder, gently helping him into a sitting position. All he could think of was how gentle this person was, even with hands that were large and rough. Who was it? Something tugged at his ring finger and he thought for a moment that it had snagged on something on the carpet, moving it backwards. Feeling a vein pulse in his forehead, he found something pressed towards his lips. Surprised and not knowing what it was, the Italian drew back before he felt that hand on his shoulder again. Wait, when had it left?

"Here, drink. It's water."

Oh, water. Thanking the mysterious person with a shaky voice, he drank from the water bottle, pulling back when he was fine. The cold liquid soothed his aching head and the spinning soon stopped.

"Can you open your eyes and stand?" Smiling at where he thought the man, it had to be a man with that strong voice; he nodded, cautiously opening his eyes. Satisfied that his vision was a bit more stable, he focused on the man who helped him to thank him, only to have his eyes widen in shock. The smile fled from his lips and his lungs halted, heart skipping a beat.

"Tu...Quegli occhi azzurri..."

Those words slipped out of his lips before he could stop them, but thankfully, in his still dazed state, they were in his native tongue, the only thing his mind could think of to speak them in. The blonde before him, the ones with the dazzling twin hues of unending sapphire skies, looked confused by the Italian words, not understanding their meaning.

"I'm sorry, I can't speak Italian well." The Italian was still shocked, but had the decency to shut his gaping mouth, looking nervous. What was he supposed to do, to say, when he was faced with the person that he had fallen in love with without even meeting them? The German, at least that was what he thought his nationality was, given the accent and the fact that they were in Germany at the moment, was staring at him in concern. He ducked his head, now feeling the shame that he had collapsed in front of him, and got to his knees, attempting to get up on his own when a hand filled his vision. Blinking, he looked at the hand, and then up to its owner.

"Let me help you up." Nodding, his smaller hand gripped the blonde's hand, letting the man help him to his feet. He swayed, but the man made sure he stayed standing. The water bottle was again passed into his hands. A grateful smile was shown on his lips as he accepted it, twisting the cap off the bottle to drink from it again.

"Um… Who are you?" It was a stupid question to ask, but the right one. Stupid because he knew that that man had been at all his concerts without fail, and obviously he had to have known that the singer always looked towards him whenever he could. But it was right because although he recognized his eyes, he had never known his name. It was something he wanted to know. He had fallen for the man without even knowing his gender or his name, silly wasn't it? But somehow, he couldn't put a finger on it, he felt as if he had seen those eyes before… Before the concerts, that is.

"My name is Ludwig, I'm Gilbert's brother." Oh! That explained why he was at every concert. His face fell a little, trying to hide it as he looked down at his feet. So perhaps he had only been there because his brother had forced him to? It was crushing him, but he looked up, forcing his lips to turn up into a smile. He couldn't let the disappointment show, his stomach tossing and turning in nervousness. However, he was shocked that Gilbert had a brother; he couldn't recall hearing about that. Or perhaps that was because he had always zoned out at times staring at that cute little fluffy chick that nested in his hair? He must have zoned out just then, because he suddenly heard the German's voice in his ears. He jerked his heads backwards to focus on Ludwig.

"- is flying back to Italy as we speak with his boyfriend. Roderich is our cousin, and he wants to make sure that he is alright, as well as Elizabeta. He left me in charge of helping you in his stead." The Italian frowned slightly, only noticing now how quickly the boxes had disappeared from the huge pile. Had he been working that quickly? How long has he spaced out for? He must have looked pretty foolish, just standing there like a braindead statue.

"Wait, Roderich's your cousin?" Feliciano looked surprised. Ludwig looked over at him in the middle of single-handedly moving one of the huge boxes. Feliciano's eyes widened even more in awe. He was really strong!

"Yes, he is. Older by quite a few years." The German stopped there, shoving the box into place. The Italian couldn't help but see the muscles ripple underneath the green jacket and the simple black wifebeater. His cheeks heated up when he found that he was staring and quickly looked down, fiddling with his bracelet nervously. It wasn't a surprise, even to his fans, that he went both ways when it came to liking someone. He flirted with the ladies as much as he flirted with the men, so to be attracted to the man who he had fallen for wasn't anything new. But he wasn't even sure if the man liked him, especially if there was the chance that he was there only because his brother was their stagehand. His hand clenched around the bottle at the thought, for some reason, it hurt more than it should have. Daring a glance up, he saw the German glance at him, seeing some flicker of emotion in those sharp eyes, something that seemed… familiar? Curiously, his fingers paused in turning the bracelet, concentrating just on Ludwig, eyes attempting to detect a reason, any reason.

Why did he seem familiar? The more he tried to think about it, the more it eluded him, like trying to grasp smoke. It was starting to make his head spin so he took another sip of water, leaning against the wall. Box after box disappeared into the truck; Feliciano had to say that it was the fastest that anyone ever completed the job. Gilbert always took forever to finish. He found out, though, that the blonde wasn't too much of a talker, or a conversation starter, as he found out when trying to talk to him. The way he walked and acted suggested he had a background with military, right? He wasn't positive about it, but he recognized subtle hints that suggested it, especially since his grandfather had been in the military before. He was about to ask another silly question, perhaps something relating to his hobbies, when something caught his eye.

Small, silver and black, a necklace found its way out from its concealed position underneath the black wifebeater. The blonde didn't notice its revealed presence much, but the Italian's eyes were locked upon it. His eyes glazed over when a mental brick slammed into the fragile wall around his mind.

"Feli!" The boy in the black hat ran over to him, catching him right as he was heading out to go play. Surprise showed on the tiny Italian's face. He didn't think that the other wanted to show his face after the incident with the mouse. His face took on a slightly red hue as he remembered that. His best friend, while chasing the mouse, had picked up his dress and came face to face with his bloomers. He didn't understand why that his friend thought he was a girl, but he didn't have the heart to correct him, afraid of rejection.

"You look so winded, (The name was too faded and garbled to hear, as if his memory refused to let both the face and the name of this boy be revealed.), did you run all the way from your house? What's wrong?" He asked, tilting his head curiously. The boy held out one hand, producing two necklaces with a silver and black cross pendant.

"What's this?"

Tasting the disgusting taste of copper, his eyes snapped open, barely even registering that they had closed. He had bitten the inside of his bottom lip so hard that it had bled. Wincing from the pain, he held a hand up to his mouth, trying to ignore the angry sting. What was that he saw? Already the images were becoming cloudy, but that necklace… It was… Was it? He had one too, right? Placing his hand over his chest, feeling the small lump where the metal lay resting against his skin, he thought hard, trying to keep the image of that necklace that boy had been holding. Ludwig had one as well? He never could remember where he got this necklace, and to see someone else with the same one… What did that mean? Once more he wished that his fratello would give a hint to the origins of both the necklace, and what had happened when he was a child. Anything before waking up at the hospital when he was six years old was shrouded in a hazy fog. With several injuries that miraculously healed correctly, he was always left asking one question – What happened?


His name? Who was saying his name? He didn't do anything wrong, why was he being scolded?


The singer jerked from his teetering thoughts, eyes jerking upwards to see Ludwig standing a few feet away. Blinking in confusion at the man, he still tried to process who had said his name, mind in a daze from earlier. Where was he agai- oh! Everything came back to him, the concert, the accident back in Italy, discovering who owned those eyes he fell in love with…

"Mi dispiace, I normally don't space out like that!" he apologized, waving his hands out in front of him, the water almost splashing out of the plastic bottle. Ludwig quickly retrieved the water bottle before its contents literally spilled all over floor, waving off the apology like it wasn't needed. The Italian quieted down, furrowing his eyebrows when he saw that the boxes were gone. Had he seriously finished, without the need for a small break? Some of those boxes had to be picked up by two or even three people! In awe, he returned his gaze back to the German man, who was rubbing the back of his head.

"You're done? Gilbert must be jealous! It takes him so long to get everything loaded up!" the Italian piped up, a playful smile etched onto his lips. His persona, although still a bit scattered from the family emergency, was holding itself easily together, no longer having to hide behind a mask. A sound, the beginning of a song, echoed from his pocket and he almost jumped in surprise.

"Chiudi gli occhi e lascia che ti porti via con me,

mentre rallenta il mondo intorno,

è notte oramai."

The first stanza of Lentamente by Studio3 slowly and softly filled the air around him and, although he loved to listen to his ringtone, he quickly retrieved his cell phone, having a feeling that the call was important. He had been scolded harshly by his older brother when he kept missing his calls because he was too busy dancing and singing along to the song.

"Si?" Feliciano tilted his head, having to look away from the blonde before him, who, as he quickly sneaked a peek back at, was looking a bit… awkward? Not able to really think about it too hard at the moment, he had to focus on the speaker.

"- is on its way to pick you up." The singer blinked, missing half of the sentence. His verbal tic slipped out in response to the incomplete sentence. He heard a sigh on the other end, along with background chatter, to which he assumed that they were at the airport with last minute tickets. On the other end, Kiku was massaging his temples, having expected that his singer would be a bit distracted still.

"I said that the car is on its way to pick you up. I made sure that the driver knew it was crucial to get you two here quickly, and luckily he agreed. You can inform Ludwig that his brother couldn't get onto an earlier flight, so he as well as Matthew, will be traveling with us. They had just enough tickets for all eight of us to get into the business class. Luckily we're all in one cluster of seats. It will take an hour and forty five minutes to get back to Venice, not including the departure and arriving time, or the drive to the hospital. We're at gate tw-"

There was a sudden scuffle with the phone, his manager letting out a surprised gasp as the phone was rudely taken from him. There was a flurry of words, most likely Kiku asking for the phone back, and the perpetrator snapping at him.

"Fratello, that potato bastardo isn't doing anything to you is he? I swear when he gets here I am going to strangle him! He thinks he can just waltz back and everything will be fine? I-" Lovino quickly cut himself off, silence lengthening between them. Sending a strange look to the German, who raised an eyebrow at the look he was getting, Feliciano wondered exactly how his brother knew him and why he already hated him. Did he know him before? He never mentioned meeting Gilbert's brother before… But then again… He wanted to throw away his necklace away. And somehow he kept thinking that it was connected to Ludwig.

"You knew that Gilbert had a brother? Why didn't you tell me? Fratello, sei così dire! Is this because of..." He was cut off by his brother before he could continue, having slipped slightly into his native language.

"What? I didn't kn-"

"Fratello!Stai mentendo a me?" Tired of being cut off, his tone became more annoyed. Feliciano pursed his lips, listening to the sudden silence on the line. He walked farther from Ludwig, more than a bit upset with his brother. He wasn't the type to get angry over anything, the carefree spirit he was, but to have his brother lie to him when he asked if he knew about Gilbert having a brother... It added to the growing irritation that there was something being hidden from him, something more than just a plain childhood and an accident that took his memories away. He wanted answers, and by god, Lovino was going to tell him! Slipping fully into Italian, both so that Ludwig couldn't listen in and because his mind now was too overwhelmed with emotion to speak in English, the conversation became a personal argument between the two brothers.

"Odio essere lasciato al buio! Lovino!"

"Io vi dico nulla per proteggere te, idiota! Non attivare questa su di me come se fosse colpa mia!" Feliciano balked at being called an idiot. He held the phone away from him, staring at it with a gaping mouth. Even if he was clumsy and tended to space out at home, he wasn't an idiot! Oblivious at times yes, but not an idiot! And it was his fault, keeping so many things from him. It wasn't fair! Something glimmered in his eyes and he closed his mouth, his eyes narrowing. Putting the phone back to his ear, his native language flowed from his lips, the words jagged with irritation, such a strange sound on such a light flowing language.

"Io non sono un idiota! Voi dite che non vi è alcun motivo per me di ricordare la mia infanzia, ma mi permetto di dissentire! Di cosa hai paura di me ricordare?" Why was he so adamant about not telling him what happened? What could have happened that caused him to be glad that his brother had forgotten?

"N-non sto paura! Si sarebbe meglio senza di ricordare. Basta ascoltare me per una volta, fratellino!" There was a pause on his own end, Feliciano closing his eyes.

"Voglio ricordare, Lovino. Sono passati quattordici anni." The anger was melting away, his shoulders slumping as he spoke. He didn't want to fight with his brother. He had to have a good reason, but he really did want to remember. Without those memories… For fourteen years… Fourteen, it was so long to not remember. In his heart, it felt as though a crucial part of him was missing, that that void in his heart would never be filled unless he fully remembered. He remembered when he came across a painting of a field of flowers. He had brought it to Elizabeta and asked who had painted it. The sadness on her face was enough to make him ask why she was about to cry. According to her, he had painted that beautiful scenery, and it had proved how much he had lost from that accident. Although, the truth was, he was beginning to remember, though hopefully that remained a secret…

"Si stanno ricordando. Si tenta di nascondere il dolore quando questo accade, ma posso vedere attraverso di essa. Io non sono tuo fratello maggiore per niente Feliciano." Feliciano visibly flinched away from the phone, looking away. A troubled expression slid into his eyes. Had it really been that obvious that he was remembering? The pain that came before each strange vision, he tried to hide it so well, but perhaps it wasn't enough. Even though he was remembering bits and pieces, they eventually faded away, leaving him to grasp at frayed edges of a memory, the colors drained, and the image warped beyond recognition. It frustrated him that he seemed to remember only to forget them again. Was it too much to hope that he could remember what happened? He knew that for years and years of forgetting, there was something important that he was missing… His brother started to ramble on and on in both English and Italian about something, but he was starting to zone out.

A thought suddenly occurred to him, revolving around the necklace. Narrowing his eyes, his fingers slipped up to the chain necklace that was hidden beneath his shirt, never seen. Finding the warmed metal, his fingers curled around it to bring the necklace into view. Swinging from the end was a silver and black iron cross. Staring at it, he remembered the one he saw around the blonde's neck. The necklaces weren't so common nowadays, but it had to be just a coincidence that they had the same one… Running a thumb tenderly along the back of the cross, he could barely make out the engraving on the metal. It had been worn away after years and years of wearing it, and he could never truly remember what it had said. It had the letter L on it, but the rest was gone. Wait… L? Running his thumb over the letter again, he glanced quizzically over his shoulder at Ludwig, finding him at the truck's back; making sure everything had been secured. His name started with an L, right? Ludwig. No, it couldn't be, that would again be a coincidence… How could it have been him if he never even knew him before? He only met Gilbert through Antonio three years ago when they needed a stagehand for their band.

"Okay now, my little tomato, let Kiku have his phone back!" Antonio's voice was heard in the background, bringing him back to reality. Another scuffle began, Antonio managing to take the phone for the most part, but knowing his brother, Lovino wasn't going to let it go, wanting to continue their 'Italian conversation that no one else understands'. Patiently waiting for either Antonio or Kiku to speak up, he ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm down. How did he get so agitated over his brother like that? It was so out of his character. Listening to the noises that were coming from the phone, his ears picked up a voice that chilled his bones.

"Lovi~ let go of the phone. Do you want to know the consequences if you don't?" Antonio's normally cheery tone had darkened and became firm and serious. Feliciano's face paled, and he could only think how Lovino looked at that moment, as well as Kiku. The always-happy Spaniard barely ever used such a serious and rather scary tone except, well… He didn't want to think about it. There was a muffled whisper on the other end, although he couldn't make out the words. He heard Lovino audibly gulp in response. Curious, Feliciano wondered exactly what the Spaniard said to his brother. Was it something about having no tomatoes for a month? Startled out of his thoughts, he heard someone speak into the phone.

"I'm sorry about that Feli; we'll be waiting for you and Ludwig at gate twenty three. Hasta luego!" The line went dead and the Italian was left there staring at the far wall with an unsure expression. What just happened? He pulled the phone from his ear and stared down at it, the black screen seemingly looking confused to him as well. Slipping it into his pocket he sighed, running a hand over his face and through his hair.

'I guess I'll see soon enough…'

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he nearly jumped out of his skin, looking over his shoulder to see Ludwig, looking slightly concerned, after all, he did witness the Italian speak in his own language, and none too happily. Even if the other couldn't understand what his brother and he were arguing about, he knew that his own face and eyes showed his annoyance and uncertainty. He scratched his cheek in embarrassment, smiling up at him.

"Veh, sorry about that, Lovino… got a little bit angry about me being left alone here. He may not act like it, but he's very protective of me." Ludwig chuckled at what he had said. Many people never got to see the side of Lovino that Antonio and he saw, the kinder side, more vulnerable and not as rude. Thinking about that, the Italian turned to Ludwig, looking a bit brighter. He knew that somehow, this man just had to be connected to his memories, after all, why would Lovino be so mad at him?

"That's an odd way of showing." The German said. Feliciano giggled at that, clasping his hands behind his back, having forgotten about his necklace dangling around his neck. He knew his brother was like that, but that made his brother, well, his brother. He couldn't see him acting any other way. He then remembered something from his phone call.

"Oh! Kiku said that there will be a driver picking us up soon to take us to the airport! I think he'll be waiting outside the front doors though." He was a bit unsure going out into the crowd at the moment. For one, he didn't feel like dealing with an over obsessed fan, especially in the current state he was in, with him having to rush back to Italy. Secondly, he didn't want to have another memory flash and have to rely on Ludwig to help him out. It wouldn't look to well to his fans, and he didn't want to give them any reasons to worry about him. The water bottle from earlier was passed into his hands, accompanied with a small smile from the German as he walked towards the door that would lead them to the backstage area, and beyond that, the main room.

"In case you need it." A rosy tint appeared on the Italian's cheek, thanking him quietly as he walked pass with a small grin. He curled his fingers around the plastic bottle, staring down at it before he realized that there was a reflection of something. He glanced further down and spotted his necklace, freezing in surprise. Did he forget to put it back into his shirt? Frowning, he picked up the now cool metal and stared down at it. After a second, he closed his eyes and slipped it away so that it was hidden from the world once more.

Turning quickly to catch up to the German, he sprinted down the hallway, reaching him just as he slipped through the curtain that separated backstage from the crowds of dancers. Seeing Ludwig glance back and hold the curtain for him to slip by, he slowed down his pace and slipped underneath his arm, only now realizing exactly how tall the other was. He mentally pouted; it had to be at least eight or so centimeters taller, right? His eyes adjusting to the now flashing strobe lights and different colored spotlights, he looked around to find a path to the door that would be the quickest, but with so many moving bodies, he might find himself lost in the fray and probably be pushed into the center of the crowd. Cringing at the thought of trying to push past everyone, he felt someone take a hold of his hand, looking down to see a hand gently but grip his only free hand. His eyes trailing up the arm to meet with its owner, he desperately tried not to let his thoughts linger on how warm his hand was. He tilted his head in a questioning way, his curl bobbing with the movement, knowing that his voice would get lost in the beat of the music, which he had to admit, was pretty catchy. Already he felt his body wanting to sway to the call of the music, but he was resisting the urge… Barely. Ludwig simply leaned in, speaking loud enough into his ear so that he could hear.

"So you don't get lost."

Mind reader, he swore. He allowed himself to be pulled along behind the German, making sure that he didn't dawdle too long, having to take two steps for each step of the blonde. Feliciano was in awe at how easily they were getting through the crowd, most of the dancers slipping out of his path right away. Quite a few people noticed him, and excitedly try to chat with him, but he sent them an apologetic smile as he walked by them. Normally he would have loved to chat and soak up the attention like a sponge, but he knew he had no time to spare. Keeping his eyes on the back of his head, he at some points caught the man looking back at him, as if to make sure that he was still there. It didn't take them that long to get to the door, to which Ludwig dropped his hand, holding the door open for the singer on the way out.

Glancing around when he walked outside, he wondered when the car would arrive. Kiku hadn't said when he was sent the driver back, but… His heart ached at the thought of his parents being hurt. His happy disposition faded into a calm worried one, wishing that they would be okay. Taking a drink of the water bottle, the last remnants of the liquid draining down into his throat, he dropped it into a recycle bin nearby. Ludwig didn't know what car to look for when it came, but he kept his gaze on the Italian. He soon broke the silence.

"Where did your necklace go?" The question surprised him and he jerked his head up.


"Your iron cross necklace. I didn't realize that you had one." Blinking, he glanced down at his chest, spying the slight outline of the cross underneath his shirt. Biting his bottom lip, he glanced to the side, away from Ludwig. So he had seen it… Nibbling on the already abused lip, he glanced back at him, finding that he was waiting for an answer with a calm face.

"Well… I normally don't let anyone see it… You probably heard from Gilbert that I can't remember too much of my childhood?.. Actually, that's wrong, I don't remember anything from before I was six years old. I'm guessing that this necklace was from that time, but I can't remember who it was from, but Lovino won't tell me anything. I wear it hoping to remember." It was rather refreshing to get that off his shoulders, raising a finger to stroke the necklace through his shirt. Ludwig nodded in response to the question directed to him.

'And apparently it's now helping me remember, even if I almost forget what I saw later on…'

"He told me a bit about that, he's rather vocal about anything he hears." Ludwig's lips curled up in a smile, and Feliciano could agree that Gilbert was quite the character. But his little bird was so adorable; the singer could easily just stare at it and forget everything else that he should be doing. He did miss what the albino had been saying on several occasions because he had focused all his attention on the bird instead of him.

"Mr. Vargas and Mr. Beilschmidt?" Hearing their names being called, Feliciano turned towards the car that just pulled up. He peeked into the driver's window and smiled, waving at him. Did he get here that fast? He liked this new driver that Kiku hired a few months ago, especially since he had a cool white mask he liked to wear. He also had a feeling that the man liked his manager as well.

"Grazie for driving all the way back to pick us up!" The driver waved off Feliciano's thanks, pointing to the back seat of the rather large car. It wasn't anything flashy, considering that the band didn't like to draw too much attention to their arrival. The singer quickly got into the back seat, buckling up his seatbelt right away, Ludwig following suit. As the driver pulled away, he switched from the formal attitude he had to a more casual one.

"It's no problem, Feli, always glad to help out Kiku and you guys. Now, who's your friend?" Feliciano glanced at Ludwig, smiling.

"This is Ludwig, he's Gilbert's little brother. Ludwig, this is Sadik Adnan, he's our driver. Sadik, are you going to be heading back to Italy with us?" He was curious; he didn't remember Kiku saying anything about him joining the ride back. Wait… Quickly counting in his head, he remembered Kiku saying eight people… So that meant… Sadik glanced at the rearview mirror to see them, the red fez hat he had on almost falling off.

"You're figuring it out, aren't you Feli? He said eight tickets. I'm sorry about the accident, though. If you need anything when you're at home, just give me a call. I'll be staying at a hotel nearby, along with Kiku, Gilbert, Matthew, and probably Ludwig here. I can drive over anytime." Receiving a thankful smile from the head singer, the Turkish man had a great idea. A smirk appeared on his smile, seeing the beginnings of nervousness setting in with the smaller male, it wasn't just because of the accident, he knew. He remembered Kiku telling him about why Feliciano was nervous about being alone in cars, so having someone else there helped calm his nerves. Turning his eyes back to the road quickly, he mentioned an idea, knowing it would be a great way to pass the time, and that it would entertain all of them.

"So Feli, why don't you teach Ludwig how to play Morra? That's always a fun game to play. By the way, Ludwig, I doubt you can beat Feliciano, he's a wiz at this game. He beats the crap out of his older brother most the time, although Lovino refuses to admit it." Feliciano's face brightened up, all traces of nervousness gone, replaced with excitement. Morra was one of his favorite games to play. Turning to Ludwig, who raised an eyebrow at him, he started to explain the rules.

"You can only use one of your hands, but you can choose to have however many fingers in play. You have to try and guess the amount of fingers before your opponent, and if you guess correctly, you get a point. Ready? One. Two. Three."

The Turkish man eagerly awaited the award of the first point.



Feliciano smirked up at the German.

The time passed quickly on the drive to the airport, with many games of Morra being played. Tallying up the points, Feliciano beat Ludwig, but it had been a tight game. Apparently the German picked up on the rules pretty quickly, having pulled ahead of the singer for a while before the Italian dominated the rest of the game. He won by three points. Sadik was impressed with the results, but it had been the most entertaining game that he had sat through, except when it was Lovino and Feliciano playing, then it really got serious. Pulling up to the drop off point, he shifted around in his seat, watching the singer celebrate his victor in his own unique way while an amused German watched.

"I hate to interrupt your adorable victory dance, but we're here. We have to rush to get to the gate on time. Your luggage was already brought to the plane, so no need to go through that. Security knows we're heading towards the gate." With that said he got out of the car and waved over a man, motioning to the car. Although he did like the car, it had been a rental, so he was sad to see it go. Feliciano and Ludwig exited the car and headed inside, followed by their driver. Dodging the crowds of people heading to security and the ticket booths, they managed to quickly get swept through security and headed towards one of the farthest gates. To Feliciano, whose excitement had sworn off from the Morra games, this all went past him in a blur, barely paying attention to the surroundings; that was, until he heard his name being called out.


Ah, it was Kiku!

"Fratello, about damn time you showed up."

And then there was his brother, who still looked annoyed from their phone call earlier. Focusing his gaze towards the small group, his lips turned upwards in a smile, waving at them as he increased his speed. Antonio was hugging his boyfriend, but it looked like it was having a second effect of restraining him from lashing out at Ludwig. His smile suffering slightly, he glanced at his new friend, wondering again why Lovino didn't like him. Gilbert walked over to his brother, placing a hand on his shoulder, speaking in his native language. Tuning them out, as he didn't speak German, he walked over to Kiku and Matthew, smiling at the latter.

"Is it our turn to board?"

"Hai, they were just calling our section when you walked up, Sadik got here just in time, I'll have to thank him. Here is your ticket. I'll give Ludwig and Sadik theirs'." Feliciano nodded as Kiku slipped by him to talk to Sadik and he looked towards Matthew, then to the others, who seemed busy. He hadn't talked with the blonde haired Canadian that much, but he seemed sweet and was a great listener.

"Matthew, would you like to grab our seats before the others can?" The Canadian smiled brightly and nodded, walking with the Italian to grab their seats. There was a little incident with the ticket attendant not seeing Matthew, but other than that, they managed to get on the plane quickly. While Gilbert followed soon after, the singer didn't notice that Lovino had grabbed Ludwig's arm to stop him from going any further, Antonio staying behind to make sure that there would be no trouble with the two. Feliciano entered the plane, looking around at the business section. It was two seats to a row, with three rows across. He had been on quite a few business class trips, but this one was very comfortable looking. Each seat had their own personal control on how their seat reclines, a tiny movie screen in front of them, and even a little lamp attached to the blue and black seat. Matthew managed to be given a window seat in the right section, while Feliciano had the one behind him. Looking up from where he was sitting down, and trying not to mess with the controls too much, he was surprised to see that Ludwig hadn't followed them yet. He saw a few other passengers start to get on, as well as Gilbert, Sadik, and Kiku, but he waited a few minutes, glancing out of the window at the night sky. Passing the time by trying to recall those fuzzy images to his head, his eyes began to get a faraway look to them. Instead of the pain that he usually felt when he remembered a memory, a gentle feeling enveloped his mind.

"Hey Feli… Um… Will you, uh, teach me how to draw please?" Surprised, the boy looked up from brushing the leaves off the sidewalk with his push broom. Holding one finger to his chin, he tiled his head.

"Of course I will, but I didn't know that you liked to draw!" The surprised expression soon turned into one of happiness when the other boy looked down at the book he was carrying, as if nervous about what he asked. Feliciano went over to him, a happy smile on his face. All he had to do was go and get the paint set from his room, and then he'd teach his friend how to paint, oh what should they paint? Oh! A bunny! Giggling he explained to him what they were going to do, taking the boy's hand and pulling him to his house so they could get the materials needed.

Just when he was beginning to get drowsy from the memory playing in his head, he heard Lovino's sounds of protest. Raising his head off the chair, the memory now banished from his thoughts, he watched as Antonio gently, but firmly, dragged his boyfriend over to their seat, with was ahead one row and to the left of his own. Wondering why Lovino was furious, he noticed Ludwig walking towards his seat, realizing that he was going to be sitting next to him for a the plane trip to Italy.

"Veh, I hope you didn't mind that I got the window seat! I love looking out of the window!" A huge smile shined towards the blonde haired German, who smiled back in turn. It was as if his smile was contagious, able to brighten anyone else's day.

"It's nighttime, you won't be able to see anything." Feliciano shrugged, glancing out of the window.

"That may be but… It's soothing, even if all you can see are the moon and a few stars… It's so peaceful out there." He noticed Ludwig staring at him only briefly from his peripheral vision, but his mind was somewhere else, the events of the day catching up to him, and the sky outside wasn't helping. As the plane attendants began their procedures to brief the passenger on emergency doors and what to do in case of a fire or plane crash, all he could focus on were how the small pinpoints of stars in the sky were bright on the cloudless night. How he wished that he could paint it sometime… Maybe when he was back in Italy, he could paint it for Elizabeta and Roderich. His eyelids drooping once more, he expected to feel his forehead meet the cool glass of the widow, but instead, he found himself being pulled slightly to the left, where the back of his head met with the cushioned headrest. Opening his eyes slightly, Feliciano peered to the left, catching sight of those blue eyes. He heard a voice speak to him, but sleep was calling him. The voice sounded strangely familiar, younger, but the words eluded him, darkness claiming him and sending him into a gentle slumber. The only thing that registered in his mind as he drifted into unconsciousness was a tug on his pinky. The red thread shone brightly and proudly, no longer being it frayed or tangled.


Eisernes Kreuz – Iron Cross. (German)

Viva l'allegria! – Love live the joy! (Italian)

La pasión no se detiene! – Passion doesn't stop! (Spanish)

Non lo so. Non ho visto quegli occhi azzurri; quelli che ho citato prima. Gli stessi Ho visto la costantemente da allora il nostro primo concerto tre anni fa? Cosa succede se Si sono annoiati di mio musica? Ho scritto 'Amore' solo per- I don't know. I didn't see those blue eyes, the ones I mentioned earlier. The same I have seen consistently since our first show three years ago? What if they were bored of my music? I wrote 'Amore' just- (Italian)

Akai ito – The red thread (Japanese)

Fratello – Brother. (Italian)

Bastardo – Bastard. (Italian)

Ti amo – I love you. (Italian)

Te amo – I love you. (Spanish)

Nacht Puls – Night Pulse. (German)

Fratellino – Younger brother. (Italian)

Cieli di Venezia – Venice Skies. (Italian)

Grazie – Thank you. (Italian)

Tu...Quegli occhi azzurri... – You… Those blue eyes… (Italian)

Bruder – Brother. (German)

Mi dispiace – I'm sorry. (Italian)

Chiudi gli occhi e lascia che ti porti via con me, mentre rallenta il mondo intorno, è notte oramai. – Close your eyes and let me take you away with me, while the world is slowing down around us, it's night already. (Italian)

Si? – Yes? (Italian)

Sei così dire – You're so mean! (Italian)

Stai mentendo a me? – Are you lying to me? (Italian)

Odio essere lasciato al buio! - I hate to be left in the dark! (Italian)

Io vi dico nulla per proteggere te, idiota! Non attivare questa su di me come se fosse colpa mia! - I tell you nothing to protect you, you idiot! Do not turn this on me as if it were my fault! (Italian)

Io non sono un idiota! Voi dite che non vi è alcun motivo per me di ricordare la mia infanzia, ma mi permetto di dissentire! Di cosa hai paura di me ricordare? – I'm not an idiot! You say that there is no reason for me to remember my childhood, but I beg to differ! What are you afraid of me remembering? (Italian)

N-non sto paura! Si sarebbe meglio senza di ricordare. Basta ascoltare me per una volta, fratellino! – I-I am not afraid! It would be better off without remembering. Just listen to me for once, brother! (Italian)

Voglio ricordare, Lovino. Sono passati quattordici anni. - I want to remember, Lovino. It's been fourteen years. (Italian)

Si stanno ricordando. Si tenta di nascondere il dolore quando questo accade, ma posso vedere attraverso di essa. Io non sono tuo fratello maggiore per niente Feliciano. – You are remembering. You try to hide the pain when it happens, but I can see through it. I'm not your big brother for nothing Feliciano. (Italian)

Hasta luego – See you soon. (Spanish)

Grazie – Thanks. (Italian)

Hai – Yes. (Japanese)