Hi people of the internet~! Ok, as I said, this is NOT a suicide fic. That's all I'm going to explain in chapter 3. Why 3 and not 2? Well, this chapter is from Italy's point of view. The next chapter will be from Germany's point of view. Anyway, I hope you like this~!
Italy stood on top of the railing of the rocking boat, breathing in the salty air shakily. No one even bothered to remember whose smart idea it was to bring the G8 onto a cruise. To most of them, it was a very nice thing. To Italy, however, it was anything but. Normally, he could just go to his hotel room and cry, but he wasn't able to now, because the walls were so thin. He was currently wishing he could go back in time. Not to say that this time period was bad or anything. In fact, it was quiet pleasant.
But, if he could do anything, anything at all, he would go back to World War II. No, not back to all the fighting (anything but that), but back to when he would spend his time with Japan, and especially with Germany. Ever since the war had ended, things had been uncomfortably tense between himself and the German Nation. And Japan had made new friends. Well, it had actually started before the war had ended. It began with his betray to the Axis Powers and then Germany's…Italy shuttered as he rubbed his arms, phantom pains running though his body at the memories.
However, he didn't blame Germany. He could never blame Germany, not even once. Italy remembered the look in his eyes when it happened. The cold, emotionless, blank blue eyes of an Aryan solider. It was exactly what his boss at the time had wanted. Italy sighed as he rubbed the pendant at his neck; the Iron Cross that Germany had given him when they had formed the Pact of Steal. He didn't know why he kept it. Romano had tried to throw it away, but Italy had managed to hide it from his older brother. Maybe it was a reminder of what could have been, and that's why he kept it clasped around his throat.
Honestly, he just wanted his old Doistu back. The one who reluctantly held him close, not pushed him away with unfeeling stairs; the one who he could always hug whenever he wanted, not act with, making him feel like they were total strangers; the one he loved, not the one who made it appear as if he hated him with every fiber of his being. Italy knew he should have listened to his brother, to stay as far away from the German as far as possible, but…he sighed to himself again, wondering if this would really work. He was about to let himself fall into the warm water of the MedertarainaSea, when he heard a voice behind him. That voice.
"I-Italy?" He heart wrenched, he hadn't heard him speak his name in what felt like forever.
"What are you doing?!" Italy flinched, but turned around, still balancing on the rail. Mio dio, he looked so angry.
"I-I just wanted s-some fresh air." He flinched again as Germany's glair deepened, darkening his brow.
"You know what I mean! Why. Are. You. On. The. Railing?" Italy was about to stutter out an answered, when the boat hit a particularly large wave, knocking him off of his perch. However, Italy managed to grab on to it, gripping the railing with one hand. He heard Germany rushed to the edge of the boat.
Italy looked up, smiling ever so softly. Germany's eyes were so beautiful, such a sparkling blue and clear. He so desperately wanted to kiss him, telling him how much he loved him, no matter how selfish it was.
"It's ok, Germany… All you had to do was tell me. I would have listened." You don't have to act any more…You can be free.
"Tell you what?!" Germany whispered. Italy sighed ever so softly.
"That you didn't want to see me anymore. That's all." He let the railing go, clutching at his Iron Cross. I love you, Germany. I know this will make you happy…nothing will make me happier than that.
Don't forget to look out for the next chapter~! Don't forget to read and reveiw~!