Osa-chan: oh, another new story. I should really get on to my other stories . . .
Italy: You can do those later! Just make sure to get this one done!
Warning: This story is rated T for language and mpreg. Rating may go up, but probably wont. This story has some yaoi pairing in it, so if you don't like it, please click on another story that's more to your liking. I don't own Hetalia, I just make weird stories from it. And sorry for making an OC the main character.
Osa-chan: ON TO THE STORY
third person POV
Italy was cradling the newly born child in his arms, cooing it in hopes of receiving a giggle in return. He was currently in the hospital, resting after hours of pain and labor, but he could honestly say that the pain was worth it, for he had a beautiful baby girl sleeping in his arms.
The baby looked at her mother with slight interest in her light, blue eyes, which she inherited from her father, Germany. Her hair, in contrast, was like her mother's. Light brown with and tinge of red and a curl on the side that seemed to bounce as she wriggled around in her mother's embrace.
"What's wrong bambina? Are you hungry?" Italy whispered, noticing that she seemed uncomfortable. The child whined and struggled more in return. Italy started losing hold of the child and put her down gently on the hospital bed.
"She's probably tired, we should let her rest and I suggest you do the same as well, liebling." Germany said, walking into the room and picking up the girl. She once again struggled a bit, but his grasp on her was much too tight to get out of. He carried her to a cradle and put her down there to sleep, caressing her face as her breathing began to slow, and her eyes began to droop. Italy stood up and made his way to the cradle, ignoring the pain he felt as he walked.
"No. You should go back to bed, you've had a rough day." Germany insisted, leading Italy back to the bed.
"Don't worry Germany. I'm fine. The pain isn't too bad and I want to see my bambina!" Italy whimpered.
Seeing how Germany wasn't convinced, Italy opened his eyes and batted his lashes, hoping it would get Germany to agree with him. Germany, who wasn't used to the sight, sighed and turned his head as a red hue appeared on his cheeks.
"I suppose it's fine, just don't over do it." He mumbled softly.
"Oh, thank you Germany!" Italy yelled as he attacked Germany in a hug.
"If only you were this enthusiastic during training." Germany muttered under his breath. Italy either didn't seem to hear, or didn't care, for he was too busy watching his child sleep soundly in the cradle. Germany watched Italy, knowing full well that even though Italy was smiling, he was feeling so much pain on the inside.
"You do realize it, Italy. Don't you? That keeping this child is impossible." Germany murmured, somewhat hoping that Italy didn't hear him.
"Yes. I know very well that I'll have to say goodbye to my little darling, but I still don't want to. Not yet. Can't we keep her a little longer?" Italy pleaded while suppressing the tears that were forming. Germany walked over to Italy and enveloped him in a hug.
"I know you don't want to give her up and neither do I, but none of the other countries can know about her. Who knows what some of them would try to do to her if they found out about her existence. I don't want to put her in that type of danger. We're always busy and out of the house. I don't even want to begin to think what the others might try to do to her when we're not around. They might take her, claim her, or terrorize her. I don't ever want her to get hurt. And think of all of the lonesome nights she'll have to spend by herself when we're working. No child should be brought up in an environment so unsafe and lonely. It will only cause her sorrow." Germany reasoned. He could feel Italy's tears staining his shirt as he trembled in his arms.
"S-si. It's not good for the Bambina", Italy sniffled, " but is it alright to name her?" Italy requested, while wiping away his tears.
"Yes. What did you have in mind?" Germany asked, happy that he was able to get through to Italy.
"Let's name her Gioia." Italy decided.
"Gioia." Germany repeated. "Why that name in particular?" He questioned.
"Because she's given me nothing, but Joy."
Fourteen years later
I walked into the kitchen, following the scent of crepes that my mother was making. I turned to see her in the next room, preparing the table for breakfast. I made my way to her and gave her a light peck on the cheek.
"Good morning, Mommy." I chimed, surprising her in the process.
"Oh darling, I didn't hear you walk in. I was just about to call you for breakfast, but it seems you've beat me to it." She joked. I chuckled as I took my seat at dining the table and began to devour the food. My mother gave a disapproving look at my table manners, but I brushed it off and continued to eat. She sighed as she walked back to the kitchen and turned up the miniature T.V. set she had in there.
Breaking News. John Macro, an ninety-five year old man, began to attack a bystander in a cafe, claiming that he was a ghost that he knew from his past. During the attack, John broke both of his own arms, due to his old age. A employee from the Cafe caught it all on video tape and called the police department and ambulance.
"Can you believe that." my mother mumbled to herself as she watched the clip from the scene.
Here's some news from the employee that caught it all on tape.
"I was in the shop, taking orders for people, and this old man started mumbling to a customer in line stuff like,
'I saw you when I was young and in the military. You saved me in battle.', which made no sense what so ever, cause the customer in line was in his twenties or something. Then the old man started waving his cane in the air as a weapon, threatening the customer not to come closer. He was claiming that customer was a ghost of a soldier that died in WW2 and was haunting him. He ran towards the customer with his cane and tried to kill him or something.
It was one of the scariest things I've ever seen! The customer moved out of the way, but the old man ran into the window and ended up hurting himself. I called an ambulance for the old man and after it took him away, I looked for the customer again to make sure he was alright, but he'd already left the area. He told me his name though, when I was taking his order early that morning. He said his name was Alfred F. Jones. '
"That's just crazy." I said, making my way to the kitchen to watch the news.
We tried contacting Mr. Jones, but he wanted to stay out of the commotion as much as possible.
In other news, a small chunk of Northern Italy declared that they were their own country that have been legally separated from Italy for fourteen years, since 1998. Even though there are documents to prove the claim, there's been some minor disputes in Italy on the small area. Some people argue that it never separated, but the mojority don't seem to have much of an opinion on it. Oddly enough, the small region speaks a combination of Italian and German and also has a combination of both cultures.
I listened intently to the the anchor woman speak, when my mother tapped my shoulder and brought me out of my thoughts.
"You'll be late for your first day of high school if you don't get ready now." she said. I checked the time and ran up stairs to prepare for my day, but on the way up, I could still hear the voice of the anchor woman continuing on the topic.
The country, in the last fourteen years has created their own government, currency, and anthem. The name of this country is based on the emotion the people of the country felt when they separated from Italy. Gioiosa,which is a form of the word joy.
At the world meeting
third person POV
"What is the meaning of this!" England roared, letting his voice echo in the room.
"A part of a country can't just break off and become a new country! That's just absurd!" He continued while messaging his temples to calm himself down.
"Even I have to agree with England this time. It just doesn't make sense." France spoke, giving subtle glares at England, who was doing the same.
"Dudes, you're over thinking this! Is it really strange that a new country showed up? I mean, I suddenly popped up one day too. It wasn't that strange then." America pointed out, while munching on a burger he had hidden in his bomber jacket. Pointed glares were sent in America's way, telling him that once this new country business was over, they would deal with his coffee incident that occurred earlier this morning.
"But you weren't part of another country, you were just ... there." England explained. And though it was true that America's existence was an odd one, it wasn't bizarre in the same was that this was.
"But why have we only found out about this now, aru? This new country has supposedly been around for at least fourteen years." China reminded. His eyes searched around the room, as if an answer would appear if he looked hard enough.
"And with today's technology, it's very hard not to find out if there's a new country up and about." Russia added. Everyone, for once, was silent in thought. Not a word or peep came out of any mouth for a good few minutes.
Japan, breaking the silence, timidly stood up and look around the room.
"I'm not one to speak out like this during a meeting, but", Japan started, "if there's a new country around, shouldn't there be a personification representative like us living there?" He asked. Everyone's head turned towards Japan in realization, which made Japan awfully uncomfortable.
"You're quite right, Japan." England stated, hoping to look as if he remembered that little fact all a long. He smiled at Japan as a silent thank you and in the the process, his eyes caught sight of a nation sitting next to Japan acting rather peculiar.
"If I remember correctly, this country claimed their independence from Italy." England said, gesturing towards said nation. Everyone in the room looked at Italy, giving him inquisitive looks.
"Haven't you noticed anything or anyone around there? It'd be somewhat odd if you hadn't." England pressed.
Italy, who was rarely ever silent, slouched in his seat. He turned towards Germany who looked sleep deprived and over worked and gave him a silent plea for help. Germany sadly sighed in response, for he couldn't think of anything to say either. Italy looked down at the table, avoiding the gazes of other nations.
"I didn't think it was important." he said quietly.
"How could it not be important, you idiot!" Romano shouted, scaring half the room.
"Part of our country has separated and you don't even bother to tell me! And where the hell did the German culture come in! That just pisses me off more! I hate you so much right now!" He shrieked. Spain pulled Romano back down in attempt to calm him down.
"Well, Austria's home is very close to Italy and the same goes for Switzerland." France said.
"I have nothing to do with this!" Switzerland yelled.
"And neither do I. I am close to Italy geographically, but I think I would know if I had influence on another nation. And I've only found about this as well, don't point fingers at me." Austria stated.
"Stop it, aru! Everyone is being idiotic! Italy has already admitted that he knows something about this! If we pester him long enough he'll talk!" China yelled.
And at that moment, Germany stood up and and ran out the door, dragging Italy behind him. Everyone else, of course, went chasing after, but no one could catch up to Germany.
"Ge-germany! What are we going to do Ve~?! The bambina might get hurt!" Italy whimpered as he ran with Germany, keeping his pace knowing that England was chasing him.
"We need to look for her and find someway to keep her safe." Germany said protectively. He wasn't going to let those crazed nations get to his daughter. Not if it was the last thing he did.
"H-how are we going to do that!? We gave her to a family in America, didn't we? America will find out if we try to sneak into his home!" Italy wailed.
"We'll find a way in, but first, we need to go talk to bruder, he might be able to help."
Bambina- baby (girl)
Liebling - darling
Gioia (Joy-ah) - Joy
bruder - brother
Osa-chan: I hope you liked the story. I'll try to keep the writing style the same throughout the whole story.