This is one odd little idea that I came up with. Jesus, I should really stop writing GerIta fanfics. God knows that there are more than enough…but THERE'S SO CUUUUUUTE! Ahem, anyway…I don't own Hetalia, I don't own anything of major importance except claims to this story.

/=+=/

Italy was going to visit Germany's house…again.

That was basically everything that he could think as he prepared his house for his arrival. He really shouldn't be doing this. Heck, Italy's been jumping his house since the beginning of time itself, right? Why does he suddenly have to be neat? Is it because that idiot bruder of his is actually out of the house and hence it can stay clean?

Hm, that's an option.

He rolled his eyes as he finished his OCD cleaning and fixed out the kitchen utensils (god knows that he's going to start cooking the minute he got there) when he heard the doorbell ring. Germany sighed and rolled his eyes as he headed toward the door. It must be bruder, he thought. Italy's plane never arrived this early. So he opened the door to reveal…

Italy Romano.

Well, he was technically Italy.

"…so you're the Italy who wanted to come over?"

"Hell no. Why do I ever want to come here?"

"…then why are you here?"

Romano sighed as he pointed behind him, revealing a smiling Spain and what looked like a case of beer. Germany could only sigh, for there could only be one explanation for this. And sure enough, there was confirmation #2: France with whoever the hell was with him. The one with the bear. Was that America?

"H-hello, Germany. I hope we're not intruding."

"You're not…but mein bruder's picking up someone from the airport and he won't be home for a while."

"That's fine, Germany! We can wait until then!" Spain chirped.

"I sure as hell can't." Romano spat.

"…fine…" Germany sighed. "I just cleaned up."

"I can see that…" France grinned at him. "You live up to your country's expectations, don't you?"

"…whatever."

Germany turned around as the group settled down in the living room laughing at all the German sitcoms (damn them all to hell). He found himself getting comfort in the kitchen, imagining Italy making dinner for him and his (obviously drunk) older brother with that oblivious look on his face and the eternally plastered smile that must be an Italian trait or something.

"Ce que…Germany, do you mind making us a quick snack?"

Germany's fingers twitched. He hated how demanding the Frenchman was, always hitting on anything that moves. Heck, England doesn't like him. Who likes the French anyway? Well, Canada…but no one likes the Canadians either…at least, that's what someone told him.

"Don't bother, potato bastard." Romano turned his head toward them. "Actually, there's a spill here. Can you get some paper towels and clean this up?"

"…sure…" Germany sighed. Was it just him, or is it that every time that France talks, he sees Italy in a dress?

/=+=/

Where did he put the paper towels, anyway? Prussia probably rearranged the entire house when he was drunk. Wouldn't be the only time it happened (one of the many reasons why he hates France).

He walked around the second floor digging through the closets for the paper towels. It was then that he realized that there were a lot of closets in the house and yet not ONE OF THEM had the paper towels. After a few minutes, he gave up and decided to raid Prussia's closet. He opened the door and immediately regretted it: for his room was a freakin' mess. Germany felt as if he was going to step on a landmine as he jumped through toward the closet. And what did he find?

"…geez…he had to hide the paper towels in this place…"

He pulled the huge bundle out of the closet, avoiding a huge mess as it tumbled out of the door. Germany mumbled some choice words for a few minutes before noticing something strange on top of everything: a strange, black hat that seemed extremely huge. For some reason, he felt drawn to the strange hat, forgetting why he came here. Slowly he waded through the garbage toward the mirror and placed the hat on his head.

"…this looks familiar…like I've worn this before…"

"You're never going to forget me, right?"

Germany blinked as he turned his head around and saw an image of a young girl in a green dress sniffling and wiping her tears away from her fragile face. She looked oddly familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on it. What was a little human girl doing in Prussia's room…?

Oh.

GOD.

"W-wait…G-Gilbert didn't hurt you, did he?"

"D-did you forget me…?"

"F-forget you?"

"You promised me that you were never going to forget me…were you lying to me?"

"…what are you talking about…?"

"Heilrich…why can't you remember me…?"

"Heilrich…?" He froze. "How did you know-?"

He paused. His human name was Ludwig, not Heilrich. This girl was just confusing him. He turned his head back and realized that the strange image was gone, leaving him alone with the crazy hat on his head and Prussia's evil mess. Slowly, he turned back to the mirror and for the first time saw a total stranger in the reflection.

"…why can't you remember me…?"

"…why can't I remember me…?"

Germany slowly removed his hat, his hair oddly separating away from the hair gel and revealing a face that was younger than before. He always gelled his hair up to make himself look more mature…he looked like a teenager without it. Sighing, he dropped the hat and walked slowly out of the room toward the first floor…

And tripped over the stairs.

"Yes! I finally got the potato bastard!"

He didn't know what the heck was going on, but before he knew it he was hovering over the stairs unable to gain his balance while the other nations were turning around, barely realizing what was going on. Everything seemed to go in slow motion as he landed headfirst onto the wooden floor and his limbs tumbled after. He was about to stand up when he saw something red. Crap, he was bleeding.

"Germany!" Spain stood.

"Are you all right, Germany?"

Canada quickly ran to his side as for some reason Germany was passing out. He's been through worse pain and yet this was going to get the best of him? As the clouds slowly enveloped his mind, he could've sworn that he heard light footsteps running toward him.

/=+=/

"Heilrich…? Heilrich!"

His eyes twitched and opened, revealing three figures hovering over his body. He instantly recognized two of them as being Austria and Hungary, but the girl was what confused him. It was the same girl that he had bumped into in Prussia's room, the same fear in her (oddly closed) eyes.

"Are you all right, Heilrich?" Hungary asked.

"Yeah…" He sat up, feeling oddly small. "I'm fine, Elizabeta."

Elizabeta? Isn't that a human name? Wait…is this his human life, before he became Germany? Was he connected with Austria and Hungary while they were all human? It was then that he realized that he still felt like a nation, not a human. Austria and Hungary were still in existence here…but if that's so, why did he…?

"You should be more careful, Heilrich. You may be a nation, but your body is still a child's." Austria propped his glasses. "You have to take care of it."

"I know, I know…" He stood up, confirming that he was indeed extremely small. "I'm fine, Roderich. You don't have to worry about me."

"I have to…it's my job." Austria sighed. "But now that I know you're all right, I'll take my leave. Eliza, I'll need you."

"Of course, Roderich."

He watched as the two of them walked away, leaving him alone with the girl. Just the sight of her made his heart flip a thousand times over in his chest, especially when she held his hand tightly to her face. My god, she's so clingy! Has she no shame at all?

"A-are you sure you're all right, Heilrich…?" She asked.

"Yes…yes I'm fine." He answered. "You don't have to worry about me…"

"Heilrich…I want to worry about you…" She cuddled closer to his shoulder. "I…I don't want to lose you…"

"…I won't go away, Italy." He smiled as he relaxed his muscles. "I'll always be here for you."

She smiled as she held him closer and "ve~d" cutely, making his heart flip over yet again. He could only smile as he held Italy close to him, wishing that his feelings could be returned, and that one day she can give him her human name and be by his side…for he didn't want anyone else but Italy.

Italy…

…

Wait.

ITALY?

/=+=/

Germany's eyes flew open, his breaths ragged and a chirp ringing out next to him. He turned his head to see Canada sitting next to him and Kumajiro on his lap, before turning his head around and revealing that he was in his room with a bandage on his head.

"Thank goodness you're all right, Germany." Canada smiled. "You took a rather nasty fall down the stairs and bled all over the stairs! Fortunately, the bleeding stopped when we brought you up here…are you all right?"

He slowly nodded, his memories slowly reentering his bandaged brain. The day he was born, his colonies, the wars, the fighting, the endless blood, hovering at Death's door for so long…

"…Italy…"

"Do you mean Romano? He's been smug ever since you fell down, but other than that Spain's giving him a good scolding."

"…Veneziano…"

"Prussia is taking him from the airport, with Austria and Hungary. They're going to pick up Francis to celebrate an anniversary of theirs…from what Romano said, Spain thought an anniversary meant a party, so he brought over beer."

"…Canada, right?"

"Yes?"

"What's today's date?"

"Um…August 6th, I believe…"

"I see…"

"Do you know what today's date is?"

"…yes."

Canada stared at him as Germany stared at the ceiling, the remainder of his memories sinking into his heart. That explains the old proverb he had heard: the mind may forget, but the body will always remember.

"It's the anniversary of my death…and rebirth."

/=+=/

Yeah…another mini-series to celebrate my Spring vacation :D