Chapter 1 - Hint
Blighty Coffee, the small cafe where they had planned to meet, was nearly empty; the breakfast crowd having cleaned out hours before.
And what a crowd it had been!
On every side lay a table, still waiting to be bussed. (The result, Italy guessed, of countries being coerced to eat at a British restaurant.) Judging by the grimaces of the poor waitresses behind him (and the stench), more than a couple of his fellow nations had...overreacted...probably more than was realistically necessary. Then again, being late to the before-meeting luncheon, he wasn't there when it happened. Who knows what atrocities they might've ordered? He could only hope that he wouldn't get sick too. The wait staff's work was cut out for them as it was. (Besides, he'd get his fancy new outfit all gross and stinky! He couldn't have that~)
But...there was where his sympathies ended. Even though England himself had nothing to do with the meal, it couldn't hold a torch to the comforts of home. Or even something that Italy himself could make.
Besides, the coffee was horrible. He...couldn't bring himself to finish it, and instead stirred it absently, the spoon clinking softly against the edge of the cup. Occasionally, he took a large swig, forgetting how bad it tasted and forced it down. (Where was the flavor?! This was little more than a sugary trainwreck!)
A waitress stopped by his table, picking up his half-finished plate of pancakes (British food ended up being way blander than he remembered. Gross.) and the two other plates sitting at his table, unused.
A twinge of guilt churned his stomach as he realized that he didn't know a single person in the building. Also his fault. It was, after all, him who had slept in. Had he been on time, he wouldn't have been alone in the room.
Still, his self-admonishments hadn't made the churning go away. It was more than that, and he knew it.
England's citizens were good people. And England trusted this place. He wasn't going to get hurt.
Probably.
No, they were, but that didn't stop him from wishing Germany was around. At least Japan. Someone. He couldn't take the stress of doing this by himself.
It was probably his own fault. He was the one who slept in the day of a meeting. And after he'd completely missed the last one, too! Germany had yelled at him so much for that.
Italy decided now was as good a time as ever to be on his way. He didn't want to miss the conference entirely (they were pretty fun to listen to~), and he definitely didn't want to leave representation of his country in Romano's hands. He knew his brother hated the attention.
Upending his cup, the nation forced the rest of the awful coffee down his throat (for courtesy's sake) and stood up to leave.
"Have a nice day!" the hostess called out to him, as he left, earning a smile from him as he passed her by.
Horrible coffeemakers or not, at least they were nice!
"You too, pretty lady!" he replied, pushing the door open and stepping out into the rain.
His shoes did little to protect his poor, cold feet from the puddles. Internally, he groaned. Aw, he was going to have to buy new shoes, wasn't he? Those were expensive!
Splash! Splash!
Saints above, what was he thinking? Leaving something like the weather to chance! Why didn't he wear warmer clothes? Why hadn't he, at least, brought an umbrella? So stupid! (Especially in England, of all places...he should have assumed that it would rain at some point!)
Splash! Splash!
The Italian ran directionlessly down the street, alternating between sacrificing his briefcase in order to remain slightly drier, and massaging to his arms in order to try and rekindle some warmth in them.
Why did Northern countries have to be so~ cold! Why hadn't he brought an umbrella!? And, and, he couldn't even find a good cup of coffee in the whole city. (That made it really hard to warm up!) The Italian swept the raindrops off his drenched sports jacket, shivering. Honestly, this was worse than his first trip to Germany! (It had taken practically months of baking in the sun to thaw out! He didn't want to be a pastacicle again!)
Splash! Splash!
Times like these made him much more grateful that his house was so warm...
How far away was the conference hall? It seemed so much closer when Germany and Japan were with him...
He passed people on the street, for the most part, England's citizens. People with destinations that they probably knew how to get to. Roads twisted and knotted together. The rain fell.
Splash! Splash!
Italy came to the obvious conclusion that he had no idea where the rest of the countries were meeting, nor did he know how to navigate English roads.
Frustrated, he decided to turn around and head back to the cafe. Maybe he could ask the pretty hostess how to get to the conference center? She could know!
That is, if he remembered how to get back to the cafe...
Splash!
Hang on.
Italy stopped, momentarily ignoring the rain as it continued to ruin his hair and his clothes. Someone was approaching him.
Could it be...?
Though there was no scent, no sound, no physical way to sense it whatsoever, there was no mistaking it. One of his citizens was nearby! The very thought seemed to drown his uneasiness, like rain running off the pavement.
Looking over his shoulder, he saw that three pretty ladies (and an umbrella! Twenty points to citizen!) were approaching him.
His citizen brought up the rear, chatting up a storm as a tall blonde held the umbrella over her head.
"I'm tellin' ya Sakura! He was definitely checking me out back there!"
Sakura, a short girl walking on the blonde's other side, gave her a funny look. "No offense, but I think you're one of the only girls on the planet that actually likes being checked out..."
His citizen laughed. "Of course! I'm cute as hell!"
"...but you're also one of the most confident girls I know, so..."
Suddenly, the blonde cursed, slipping her phone away. "It's official. GPS has no idea where we're going."
"That's not a good sign," Sakura noted, slightly worriedly. "Should we call a cab?"
The blonde thought for a second. "I'd like to avoid it. We should ask for directions first."
"There's a person over there, we should go ask him!" his citizen pointed out.
Italy's snapped back into focus. Huh? Wha? Was she talking about him?
Splish! Splash!
His citizen's stomping footsteps landed on every puddle on the sidewalk. Behind her a voice (the blonde?) called out for her to slow down.
Splish! Splash!
They followed her, both Sakura and the blonde desperately trying to stay underneath the umbrella as they stomped through the puddles.
"Excuse me," his citizen asked, tapping him on the shoulder. "Do ya happen to know the way to Blighty Coffee?"
"Oh! Yeah, I just came from there!" Italy replied. "Fair warning, the coffee actually is pretty blight-y. I almost threw up, but then I didn't. Someone else did though. I bet it was the coffee too."
"Was it really that bad?" Sakura asked, "All my friend's reviews seemed to imply that it was rather decent." It took him all he had to avoid grimacing at her words.
"Trust me bella, I'm Italian. I know bad coffee when I taste it."
"Fiore-san! He's an Italian too!" Sakura called out, giving his citizen pause.
"Duh! He just said that he was!" Fiore responded playfully. "It was that bad, huh?"
"Oh, pretty lady, the coffee! It was terrible! The worst coffee I've ever had! Well, maybe not. But it was still icky. It wasn't real coffee, I'm thinking. Too gross. Don't get it. The food was okay though."
"Mind showing me the way? I promise I won't get the coffee, signore~" Fiore asked, extending her arm with a wink.
"Don't mind if I do~!" Italy replied, accepting it. "I'm pretty sure I went the wrong way to work, anyways..."
"I'm guessing then that you don't miraculously live here, then? An Italian randomly living in London?"
"Not at all, signorina! I'm here on business."
"Then shouldn't you be getting to your job?" the blonde asked, concerned. "I'm Monika, by the way. Monika Beilschmidt."
Beilschmidt? Wasn't that Germany's human surname?
Ooh! He had to tell Germany about it later! Apparently it was more common than he'd initially thought. Cool!
"Now that you mention it, I'm pretty late to the meeting anyways..."
Monika seemed to be almost terrified at the prospect. Or maybe just offended. He couldn't tell.
"Then you really need to get going!" she scolded. "We can find our way to the cafe. It has to be around here somewhere."
"Relax, Moni!" Fiore said, clapping her on the shoulder. "He's running late. It happens."
"We don't want to jeopardize your career over coffee!" Sakura added, worried.
"I'll be fine, really~ I can't abandon you ladies in your time of need!"
"Not you too, Sakura!" his citizen groaned, "I would've been late today too if it weren't for you guys showing up and dragging me out of bed like you did..."
Ignoring her, Sakura continued, "You really should get going, mister...?"
"Feliciano!" Italy replied, smiling widely. "You can call me 'Feli', though, if you want to~"
"...I was still basically half asleep when I got dressed, too! I'm not entirely sure I was the one to put on my own clothes!"
Monika nudged her, giving her a look that seemed to say, Don't be rude!
Fiore grinned, lightly pecking him on the cheek. "Feli it is, then! Andiamo!"
The cafe, having had a short reprieve from customers, was now back on its feet.
Somehow, the atmosphere was more friendly this time around.
Maybe that was because Italy was enjoying himself. That tended to make things more lively!
"Oh, so you're German?"
Monika nodded mutely, eyeing him.
Ahh! She was so much like Germany it scared him! Only, a Germany who didn't want to talk to him. At all.
To be honest, that scared him a little.
"And I'm Japanese," Sakura added, raising a hand.
"What a coincidence~" remarked the country, scratching his head. "I happen to also have a German and Japanese friend!"
"People making friends of other ethnicities. It's unheard of." Monika muttered dryly.
So mean!
"So, I'm here on business," Italy began, "Why would three pretty ladies, all from different countries, come to England to eat at this sub-par cafe?"
"We're waiting for some friends, Feli-san!" Sakura responded brightly. "Nika-chan and I thought it a good idea to be the first to arrive and reserve some seats for them."
Huh. Yet another similarity between him and the girls. Spooky~!
"How many friends? Oh, table for four, please signora hostess lady!"
Sakura giggled nervously, turning to Fiore for support. "Well, we invited a little over two hundred..."
"Wha?! That's a lot!"
Fiore's head shot around, turning to look at her incredulously for a second. Sakura shrugged.
"Of our fellow employees!" Fiore butted in. "But usually, only about a dozen or so bother to show up! Useless, unreliable bunch they are!"
Monika cleared her throat, cutting Fiore off. "We normally convene for a short meal before a meeting. Most of our coworkers either skip it or have their own gathering in their own locations."
Ah.
That was so weird! In fact, it was starting to give him chills. This was probably the craziest coincidence in the history of coincidences!
"You pretty ladies doing anything after your meeting? I bet my friend knows some pretty good sightseeing places in the area!"
Fiore's eyes glittered with excitement. "Actually, about that, we have a place where we were planning to go~"
"And where's this? Not another coffee shop, I hope..."
Sakura shook her head vigorously. "Nothing so boring as that, Feli-san! One of our friends told us a scary story about a haunted house nearby-"
"And we decided to check it out once the meeting's over! It'll be fun~!"
Monika put down her menu, neatly folding it up and putting it on the table, looking around patiently for the waiter. "I'm not saying it again. It's a bad idea."
Fiore snorted. "You're just scared, Moni! Lighten up, it's not actually haunted!"
Monika shook her head in irritation, blushing furiously. "Julchen and I are going to make sure you two don't hurt yourselves. I refuse to take chances with my friends' safety."
Italy swallowed. It sounded like fun to spend more time with the pretty ladies (score!), but...what if there actually ghosts?
He wasn't taking any chances. Germany wouldn't mind tagging along and protecting him from the ghosties, right?
Laughing nervously to himself, he tried to avoid visibly paling. He needed to act cool, for the ladies~
"Sounds fun! Mind if I come?"
"Not at all!" Fiore responded, ignoring Monika's glare. "Fair warning, it's a bit of a drive away. You okay with that?"
"Where is it exactly?"
Sakura pulled a pen out of her purse and started to scribble on a napkin. She slid it towards Italy across the small table. "This is the address. We'll try to be there around five."
"Ever been to a haunted house before?" Fiore asked. "I'm just curious."
Italy opened his mouth to respond-
Hm? What was that, buzzing in his pocket?
...His phone. Of course, duh. Someone was calling him.
"Pronto. Oh, hiya Ludwig!"
"Italy, where are you?"
Hey! Germany sounded exasperated, not angry. That was a good sign!
"You know the cafe where we were supposed to eat breakfast? Blighty Coffee?"
"Where America and Canada had an impromptu eating contest and consequently vomited all over the floor? I know the place."
"The food wasn't that bad! The coffee is another story, but the food is a good 5 outta 10!"
"They were eating a dish called 'blood sausage'. England brought it to supplement the meal, despite the fact that we were to eat out to avoid a situation such as that one."
Italy's nose wrinkled in disgust. "Eww! That just sounds...ew!"
"Who are you talking to, Feli-san?" Sakura asked from across the table, looking over her menu.
"Italy. Really? Flirting?" Germany asked over the phone. He didn't sound surprised. Just frustrated. "When your horrible brother is screaming obscenities into the microphone? Get over here this instant!"
"But I don't wanna leave! We just started eating!"
Monika gave him a pointed stare. "We haven't even ordered yet!" she said loudly.
So serious. He'd never understand it.
"Aw, do I have to go?"
"YES, Italy! Romano's started to throw things. Get here n-."
Italy startled and dropped his phone, cutting the German off mid-sentence.
"Are you ignoring me, Italy?!" His phone was shaking from its place on the ground. Italy had to resist the urge to do the same.
"Sorry Ludwig, you scared me! I dropped my phone," he picked it up and cradled it. "Don't die little phone, I'll feed you some pasta and you'll be good as new!"
"Do not feed the phone pasta. Oi vey, don't feed the phone anything-You can't feed phones! Italy! Just get here as soon as possible!"
He hung up. Italy slid his phone back into his pocket, lip protruding in a pout, and stood up to leave.
"See you later, pretty ladies!" he called, waving at the girls. "I have to go now~"
Fiore waved back enthusiastically. "Seeya later, Feli!"
Italy left the shop and stepped outside, blinking in surprise. The rain has subsided!
With his now-remembered phone in hand (how could he have forgotten it? It was so easy, it was silly~) he resumed his frantic dash to the conference center.
It was time to get back to work.
A/N: I have never actually been to Blighty Coffee, so I apologize if their coffee actually isn't gross by Italian standards. I couldn't resist making the joke, lol. Anyways, this idea has been sitting in my thinkpan for a while now, and I'm excited to finally write it~ It's been a comic, a (fan)fangame, and now a fanfic and this is the furthest it's ever gotten tbh...
I had an amazing time writing this! Hopefully I did Italy's character justice...I'd hate to screw up my favorite character, lol.
"Blood Sausage" is a British dish I've never had either (technically it might be Scottish? Either way, it's a breakfast item.) and it's basically congealed pork blood and animal bits of all kinds? It sounds disgusting to be honest, but if it isn't, let me know!
Hope you all enjoyed! Feel free to leave a review on your way out~
Shoutout to Random Riter 11, my beta/fanfiction mentor! She's fantastic!