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Everything Below this line is old.
Hetalia is the property of Hidekaz Himaruya. Support official release.
"Ve…."
Italy sighed as he sauntered shamefully along. His usual attire when in this mood.
"I can't do anything right," he muttered to himself, "I don't understand how Germany can be so successful in everything he does. I mean, how come things are always so easy for him and not me? I'm not that different!"
Italy stopped and started thinking.
"Well, sure, maybe I'm not exactly as strong as he is….or that good with weapons….or maps….or spying….or cleaning…or concentrating—but still!"
Italy looked up with determination holding up a trembling fist to display it to the world as he spurted out that last statement (even though no one was watching or frankly cared).
Suddenly he noticed Britain in the distance. All at once Italy started trembling, his face turning blue as his prominent curl shook with dread. His head spinning like a top looking for a place to hide, he quickly hid himself with absolute perfection in the bushes close by. Still trembling with face blue as ice from fear, he peeked over the shrubbery with a leaf perched on his head. He smiled trying to reassure himself in his uncontrollable fright.
"See Veneziano? You are good at something! No one knows quite how to run or hide like you, do they?" His smile vanished as he watched Britain. Just the mere sight of that horrible bushy-brow'd brute was enough to cause Italy to want to faint. "Oh Germany! Germany where are you! Help me Germany!" he muttered to himself as if he actually expected his ally to appear out of nowhere to save him, "Britain is going to find me and capture me and then torture me for information! Oh no, what if he makes me eat his food again? Oh Mi Dio! Not the British food torture! I'll go crazy if I ever have to eat anything he makes ever again! Oh Germany help me! HELP ME!"
Perhaps if Britain wasn't so fixated on the work he had to complete or the trouble his key was giving him with his front door, he would have noticed the bushes shaking not far off. Fortunately for Italy, Britain was far too caught up in his frustration to notice the country sneaking in the shrubs.
"Damn key!" he swore to himself, his huge brows caved into his face as his eyes squinted angrily at the source of his frustration, "Quit being such a wanker and do your bloody job or I'll do to you what Oliver Cromwell did to my people in 1648!"
As if feeling the gravity of this threat, the key instantly obeyed and locked the door without further problem. Britain sighed in relief and hid the key in the flowers that were seated on the outside of his window. He pulled out his fob watch and checked the time before going to his 1940 Bristol car and speeding off to a pressing meeting he had with his older siblings from the UK circle. He was a little anxious about seeing Scotland in particular (they had never really been on solid interactive terms).
Italy finally calmed down as soon as he heard Britain's car drive off into the distance. He rose out of the bushes, brushing off his blue uniform of the various leaves he collected while hiding.
"Ve~! I sure glad that's over. Whew! I was really scared he would find me!" Italy walked over to Britain's house and searched the flower bed and saw the key Britain hid earlier. Just at that moment, an idea swept over him.
"It sounded like Britain wouldn't be coming back for a long time! I'll bet he has some important stuff that he's hiding in his house! I'll show Germany I am a really, really good ally! I'll go in and take all the important information to him! Then Germany will never, ever, ever doubt me again and we can be friends forever!"
Italy took the key and inserted it into the lock smiling with determination, "At the very least, I can take any good food he has. I'll rescue all the pasta ingredients and save them from the horrid fate of being cooked by Britain!"
With a quick turn, he opened the door and entered the house. He was really expecting something scary in the house of Britain, but he had to admit it looked rather nice.
"He likes to keep things neat too." Italy noted as he wandered along, "Of course, Germany still is far neater and tidier than anyone could ever be!"
He bumped into a small corner stand which had an old lantern placed on it. Britain never used it much, but he liked to keep it around as a memoir of sorts. But when Italy ran into it, the old thing fell right off of its stand and crashed on the ground breaking the glass and letting oil flow into the nice wooden floor. Italy must've leapt 5 feet in the air (it was a good thing the ceiling was relatively high) when he heard the crash, but calmed down as soon as he saw it was his own doing.
"Ve~, that' scared me! I thought Britain was coming for me!" he looked down at the mess he made and noticed something odd. He leaned down to pick up the strange object which came from the broken lamp.
"Ve! A key! It looks pretty old…I wonder what it was doing in that old lamp? Maybe it's to some special room that Britain keeps all his secrets in!" Italy may not have realized it at that moment, but his assumption was right to some extent. He started checking the rooms of the house, but found nothing he deemed important. Unfortunately it seemed that Italy's sense of 'important' was iffy considering he completely overlooked cabinets filled with files in Britain's office which contained records and codes that were strictly kept for British Intelligence. "Yep, nothing worth much here!" Italy said flippantly as he closed the door to the information-stuffed British office.
He had been wandering around the house for some time, but didn't find much he felt he could use. "Ve…perhaps this whole 'spy' idea wasn't so successful after all. I guess I'd better go to the kitchen and find those pasta ingredients before I leave."
Italy walked his way over to the kitchen and found he had to go through the library. His eye quickly glossed over the thick, information-filled books that stuffed the shelves. Then, his eye caught one of the books and he squealed with joy."
"Ve~! I know that book!" he said pulling out a relatively small book in comparison to the others. "Le Avventure di Pinocchio! I didn't know that Britain cared for my literature this much!" If the Italian had half a critical-thinking mind, he would have questioned why on earth a great and powerful nation like Britain kept an Italian fairy tale book on the shelves of his library next to only huge tactical information manuals that were strictly focused on his country alone. However, even if Italy did begin wondering this, he wouldn't have waited long to find an answer. For not long after he started flipping the pages of his book, he heard a low rumbling sound. He dropped the book and started shaking crying "Germany! Germany help! Britain's house is going to eat me and I didn't even get to have my last meal of pasta yet!"
Italy turned to see that one of the bookshelves had opened up revealing a secret entrance. It would be unfortunate for anyone who had discovered it since there was still a locked door present behind the bookshelf. However, Italy was still pretty good at putting together two and two and quickly pulled the key he had found earlier from his pocket and inserted it into the keyhole.
"Magnifico!" he exclaimed happily, "It fits! I'm sure there's got to be some secret things behind here!"
Italy opened the door and slowly walked down the old stone steps. He held both his clutched hands to his chest as the room got darker and darker. He walked down and down until it felt as if he was walking to the very core of the world. With each step, the Italian became more frightened, but his determination to prove himself outweighed his desire to run (for once) and he kept going.
At last he came to the bottom. It was pitch black and he couldn't see a thing. Even the light from the open door was as faint as a star now. Italy trembled and swallowed hard before opening his mouth.
"C…C-C-Ciao…Is anyone here…?"
To his surprise and relief, a few candles lit up. Most people would have been concerned that they lit up on their own, but Italy was glad enough to have some light, so it didn't really matter much to him. He looked around in awe at what he saw.
"Oh…this room is enormous! And there are so many strange things in here!"
Italy started to look through the shelves, but he couldn't make head or tails of what any of this stuff could possibly be for. On the old iron shelves, there were bottles of elixirs which let off strange and ominous lights. There were old dusty books that were falling apart at the seams and a little further off, he could see a book halfway in the process of being bound together. Britain had spent much of his time lately rewriting and binding new versions of his spell books since the old ones were beginning to fall apart. Italy looked at the floor and noticed that there was a huge circular indent in the floor with lots of star shapes in it. He didn't know what it was or why it was there, but he had a bad feeling about it and took care not to step close to it.
Italy focused his attention on the strange ingredients which lined the walls. Each of the jars and vials were neatly labeled in either English or Latin. Italy's English was a bit rusty, but most of the Latin he got without trouble. However, even in Latin, the labels confused him and some of the names said things he really didn't care to ask about such as, 'Eye of Newt' or 'Wyvern Venom'.
"Ve…what is Britain doing with all this weird stuff? Uh…he's scarier than I thought!"
Italy trembled a little before his eye caught hold of a deep, royal purple cloth bag. It kind of reminded him of the sack of wurst that Germany cooked for him that one time to reassure him of their friendship. Italy reached up and plucked the sack from where it sat, it was not very large and sat in both of his hands quite comfortably.
"I'll bet this is something good!" Italy said to himself, "This should be just fine! Now to get out of this scary place!"
Italy ran right back up those eerie stairs faster than one could say 'Pasta!' Out he shot from that Brit's house and wandered through the backwoods of England, not wanting to risk running into Britain by accident. After a while, he stopped to look at the bag.
"I wonder what's in here?" Italy muttered to himself, "It feels a little heavy, I wonder if I should open it up or-."
"Stop right there!"
Italy leapt in the air for what must've been the hundredth time that day. He turned around, hoping that it was just another unnecessary scare, but this time, he had reason to fear.
As Italy had left Britain's house and ran off into the woods, America had wandered over to say 'hi' to his Allied comrade when to his surprise, he saw Italy leave the house carrying something with him. Curious, he ran after the Axis country as stealthily as he could. He only announced his presence when he saw what Italy was holding. He remembered seeing that same particle in the possession of Britain not long ago.
The memory flashed in his mind….
"You bloody git!" Britain shouted at America pointing a finger accusingly at him, "You are the most selfish, egotistical clod I've ever known! And believe me, I've known a few!"
"Dude Britain," America replied coolly, "I'm the hero, I don't need to justify what I do to you!"
"Oh really?" Britain said with a smug scowl. He fumbled and pulled out that same bag and held it over his head as if preparing to throw it. "Then I don't need to justify my actions…"
Britain halted and thought for a moment before letting out a clearly frustrated breath and returning the item to his briefcase. America could hear him mutter something under his breath about, "wasting so much time making this for you." before tramping off.
"Whatever that Italy dude's got in his hand, he must've stolen it from Britain!" America smiled, "No fear! I'll get it back, or I'm not the hero I say I am!"
And with this thought in mind, America charged towards Italy shouting fiercely, "Stop right there! Give that back right now you thief!"
America might have had international interactions, but he was more attuned to his own country's matters than with those of the outside world. Thus, his knowledge concerning the other nations wasn't as crisp as it might have been. And anyone who knows Italy's kind knows that they are never faster when they are retreating from an enemy.
"Help! Germany! Germany! A big, strong, scary nation is attacking me! Help me Germany!"
"Germany isn't around pal!" America shouted. "fraid' you'll have to answer for what you've done yourself!"
Italy may have been fast, but America was a persistent fellow. No matter how far or how fast Italy ran, America never stopped giving up the chase. And so, for a long while, Italy and America did nothing but run deeper and deeper into the forest until all at once, Italy looked back to see if America was tiring and his foot caught on a snag in the ground and down he went.
"Oww….." Italy whined as tears started leaking out of his eyes. He heard footsteps walking calmly behind him and shuddered as he saw an all too familiar shadow come over him. He looked behind him to see America triumphantly standing over him with a victorious grin on his face.
"Thought you could outrun the hero huh?" America said plucking Italy from the ground. Italy curled up in a fetal little ball as America held him singlehandedly by the collar in the air. At that moment, Italy protected one of his greatest titles and did what he is known for doing best…
…begging endlessly for his life.
"Please don't hurt me!" he screamed as tears flustered around his face and head, "I never did anything wrong! I'm a good little Italia! I won't do it again I promise! You wouldn't hurt a reformed nation would you? It's not nice and I don't think Germany would like it! Please, I'm sorry! I won't tell Germany! We don't have to tell him! We don't have to tell anyone! It'll be our secret I promise! We can make an alliance! Just the two of us! We don't have to be part of the Allies or the Axis! We can just be allies between the two of us! I'll be the miserable little underling and you can boss me around as much as you want! Doesn't that sound good! I'll tell you anything you want! I'll tell you what I read before bed or how much pasta I eat in a month! I'll tell you anything, just don't hit me! You wouldn't hit me would you? I'm practically an American! I have relatives in Brooklyn you see! We're related you and I!"
America looked at the whining nation blankly and quickly covered his mouth after hearing his fill of begging.
"Dude, two things. First, most of what you said just went in one ear and right out the other. Secondly, EVERYONE has relatives in Brooklyn.
"Oh…" Italy said softly thinking about this for a moment, "You're not going to hit me are you?"
"Meh," America shrugged, "probably."
"No! No! No! Please don't hit me!"
"Dude calm down, I was just jokin'. Just give me that parcel and we're cool."
"Here! You can take it!" Italy exclaimed quickly handing the bag over to the other nation. America, still clasping Italy's collar in his right hand, looked at the satchel curiously in his other.
"So…what is this exactly?" he asked.
Italy shrugged, "No idea, I just found it and thought it might be German food, so I took it!"
"Seriously? Thank God dude, I'm starved!"
America held the lip of the bag in his teeth, still clutching Italy, and reached in for something to eat. But what he pulled out was nothing of the sort. It was a pure crystal globular flask which had some deep red fluid swirling around inside it. America held the neck of the bottle and looked at it curiously.
"Wait, I thought you said this was food." America looked to Italy.
Italy shook his head fervently thinking America was looking for an excuse to smack him. "No! No! I just assumed it was wurst! I didn't look inside! I swear! Please don't hit me!"
America ignored him and looked at the flask with interest. Finally, he gave up and sighed.
"Well, I guess I'll just return this to Britain and figure out what to do with you. I'll probably just end up putting you in a box like last time and sending it back to…"
America looked around several times. He had been so focused on catching Italy that he failed to notice where they were. He found himself in the middle of an enormous, tall grassy field surrounded by thick woods. He felt himself sweating in embarrassment before looking to Italy, still clutched within his hand.
"Yo dude, you know the way back?"
Italy just noticed that they were in the middle of nowhere and looked around fervently. "I have no idea. I was just worried about trying to get away from you! Ve! It's getting dark and stormy! What if there are ghosts here? I've heard that Britain's place is filled with them!"
America started shaking when he heard the word 'ghosts'. He tried to make himself brave, especially considering an Axis power guy was with him. "Ha!" he laughed nervously, "I'm not scared of any stupid, rotten…"
A single flash and thunder and lightning was enough to quickly do away with his upcoming statement as he jumped in terror along with Italy as they both screamed ""GHOSTS!" very loudly. In fact, America was so traumatized, that he lost his grip on the bottle and watched helplessly as it fell the ground. The crystal smashed into a thousand fragments as the red liquid turned into a thick cloud of smoke that enveloped both Italy and America. Both began coughing heavily and tried to get away.
"Ve! What is happening?" Italy cried out from fear.
"No idea bro! But…but…" America swayed as he felt weariness come over him. Yawning loudly he felt his knees hit the ground below him, "I…think I'll just sleep here for a little….Zzzzzzz." And just like that, he was fast asleep on the ground.
"Wait! Don't fall asleep!" Italy shouted trying to wake him, "I don't want to be…alone…" but Italy too found that he just couldn't keep his eyes open and laid down on the grass. "I think…I'll have my siesta now…" he said before collapsing into sleep.
And the two slept very soundly as the red cloud of strange elixir from Britain worked its magic….literally.