"The Holy Roman Empire is no more."
He stood there in silence for a moment, letting a soft "ve?" escape his lips. It was lost in the chilly autumn wind as he locked gazes with the uniform-clad man in front of him, who averted his eyes slightly, looking discomforted.
"I mean," The Frenchman tried speaking again, but his voice was just as feeble as before. "You've suffered enough already, haven't you? It may as well be time to just forget about him."
Still, pressing silence that seemed to squeeze its hands tightly on North Italy's ears suffocated them both, even though they were on a clear, grassy plain with nothing in sight from their position. There was still nothing in his amber eyes as his mind worked desperately to process this horrid, newly acquired piece of information.
And then it seemed to register, as Italy suddenly snapped up. "W-What do you mean, big brother France?" He asked, voice trembling slightly. "D-Do you mean that h-he lost another battle? That's o-okay, he always r-recovers-"
"I mean exactly what I said, Italy." There was none of France's usual playful tone. His blue eyes were solemn and sad. "The Holy Roman Empire is no more."
"B-But…" Tears were already beginning to well up in Italy's eyes as the initial shock wore off. "He promised t-that he would c-come back for me…"
France was silent for a few moments before bowing his head. "I am...very sorry, Italy."
And with that, he left a sobbing, broken-hearted nation in the middle of an empty field.
Much like his heart.
If Germany were to be the Holy Roman Empire, Italy mused. Then wouldn't that be funny? He's always so strict and making me do more and more laps during training, as opposed to the Holy Roman Empire…
He slapped his sketchbook shut, watching the tiny particles of dust fly into the air and swirl, illuminated in a shaft of sunlight streaming through the window. He rarely ever used his desk nowadays, seeing as there really was nothing much to do and he stayed over at Germany's house most of the time to eat, work, and sleep.
"Italy?"
The nation let out a surprised squeak and shoved the leather-bound pages into the open drawer by him, standing up suddenly and whirling around to face Germany, who was standing in the doorway, curiously looking around.
Germany did look a lot like the fallen empire. The startling blue eyes, the sleek blonde hair and oh Dio if Italy continued to think about that-
"O-oh, hi, Germany!" Italy grinned nervously. The other nation's appearance was completely unexpected. He didn't think that Germany would have ever needed to come to his house…
"Are you alright? You didn't show up for training yesterday." Germany took a step into the room, closer to Italy, who edged away very slightly. The taller nation frowned a little, but continued on. "Japan and I were very worried when you weren't picking up the phone, either."
"I-I'm alright! Yesterday I wasn't feeling very well, and I sort of slept through most of the day...I probably missed your call because of that. Ve, I'm sorry, Germany!" The supposedly frightened tears were welling up much more easier than usual. Huh, Italy thought bitterly. I wonder why.
A slightly annoyed look seemed to come onto the other's face, but there was clear concern laced in the gaps. "You were sick?"
"Yes, I wasn't feeling very well. but I'm better now!" Italy forced his usual bright smile on, but he felt the corners of his mouth tug down. Dammit. Don't start crying now, though he probably won't suspect a thing.
Germany cast him another suspicious look, then turned to leave. "Alright then, Italy, but if you're sick then you should tell either me or Japan. If you're ready to go training, then come down to the track."
Italy waited for him to leave before sitting down gently on his chair. It still squeaked a bit, but that was alright. He was alone now.
With slightly trembling fingers, he opened the hastily shut drawer and pulled out his sketchbook again, pausing only momentarily before opening it to a random page. It was a small folder with a folded painting inside of it, but Italy could clearly see what it was.
What he saw only brought bittersweet memories resurfacing in his mind and a churning in his gut as Italy struggled not to cry.
It was a child-like painting of a slightly pink bunny. The wide, shakily painted eyes were staring at him. Taunting. "Remember me? Remember me?" it seemed to cry out.
Italy did remember.
"Here, let me help you! You hold the brush like this!"
"Er...uh…"
"Ve? Holy Roman Empire, where are you going?"
And he cried, the sound somehow fitting in the falsely cheery room, bright colors and happy scenery doing nothing to fill the feeling of simply being incomplete.
Much like his smile.
A/N: Apologies if some of the spoken lines from the episodes aren't correct, but I was too lazy to go and check. Also, I barely read over this...excuse my mistakes.
Reviews and faves shall be greatly appreciated (even if this was a fail), and I would be extremely happy to even see reads. Thank you, thank you.
