The tanks and jeeps came rolling through the gates of Rome, cheering crowds of Italians greeted the Allies as their heroes. Romano joined their throng, raising his voice among the many others.
Italy stood off to the side, unsure of what to do;
Germany will come for me, won't he? He always has before; maybe something has changed.
Italy stood still and watched the American soldiers laugh loudly and except praise, the British stand back, a little more dignified.
My borders have been invaded, but this doesn't feel like defeat, it feels more like a joyful surrender. Should I be happy? Relived that I can stop fighting? Content to stop fighting alongside that man? No.
He turned away from the crowd. Romano turned back to his brother, seeing him leave, he followed. Romano clasped a hand on Italy's shoulder,
"Hey, what's wrong? We can stop worrying about food shortages and fighting now. Frattelo?"
Italy glanced coldly back at his twin and shrugged his hand off his shoulder,
"I'm done," he said and walked away from the gates.
"Your letters, sir." The soldier saluted Germany and exited the tent. Germany looked at the letters in his hand, orders and… he glanced at the other one.
Italy.
Germany opened that letter first; it had been two months since Germany had last heard from him. He scanned the letter quickly:
Dear Germany,
The allies have succeeded in invading Rome. I am no longer your ally, I'm sorry. All of my armies have returned home and are dispersed permanently. I hope things are better where you are, but I can't be with you, fighting by your side anymore. I'm so sorry. I don't deserve to be your friend anymore, for abandoning you like that. Please be alright, Germany.
Your former friend and ally,
Italy
Germany read the letter in disbelief. He stood quickly and left the tent for the main commander's tent. He lifted the flap and went inside,
"Is it true that Italy is no longer our ally?" he asked the commander.
He nodded, "They surrendered the moment the Allies walked into Rome. They truly are weak and stupid; it is said that many of them cheered in the streets when the allies came. It is a betrayal to the Axis."
Germany couldn't believe that Italy would just do that to the Axis, or to him. He put a hand to his head,
"Are you alright, officer?"
Germany looked at him dazedly and saluted him, then left the tent. He went back to his tent and crashed down onto the cot. He knew that Italy tended to surrender a lot, but to just give up like that.
Germany's head spun thinking about that cheerful Italian; was there any sign of betrayal anywhere in my memories of Italy? Was he always planning on abandoning me at the drop of a hat?Germany felt a tear fall down his cheek. He quickly wiped away, maybe Italy was unwilling to surrender. Germany breathed out heavily, even if it was a false hope, he was going to rescue Italy, one last time.
The soldiers mingled in the streets of Rome with everyone else. The differences were astonishing, the men carried guns and wore uniforms, and the city-dwellers wore normal attire and went about their daily lives, as if the soldiers weren't there. Whenever Italy saw a soldier he was reminded of his time with Germany. He missed him so much…
It doesn't mean anything! He doesn't… love me. That time I spent with him was just like any other day to him. I don't mean anything to him. At this point, I've lost any chance of being is friend ever again.
Italy gazed out into the streets listlessly.
"An approaching army!" called the gate watch.
What? I thought there were no armies left in Italy; unless it's another Allies army.
The gate was opened and the soldiers poured in. The Allied soldiers amassed at the gate, muttering and staring at the soldiers garbed in the Italian uniform filling the entrance.
These are no Italian troops… Italy thought as he searched the ranks, these are German troops! Why are they dressed in these uniforms?
"Troops! Take back Rome!" An officer yelled in German.
The 'Italian' troops pointed their weapons at the Allied troops and wouldn't back down until they all surrendered. Italy wandered through the crowd until he found a familiar sight. Germany.
"Germany!" Italy called then hesitated,
what if he's not happy to see me?
A man with blond hair turned,
"Italy?" he called back.
Italy dodged through the troops and townspeople.
"Germany!" he leapt into the German's arms and buried his head in his chest.
When they broke apart Germany looked into his eyes,
"Is it true?" He asked. Italy looked up at his friend,
"What?" he asked, puzzled about what Germany was talking about.
"Did the people surrender with cheering?"
Italy looked away, at the spot he had been standing when the enemy soldiers had taken the city with less than a fight.
"Ci."
Both Germany and Italy stood there, silent.
"Do you hate me now?" Italy asked, tears starting to fall.
"Nien."
Still nether of them moved.
"Why did you come back for me?"
Silence.
"Ich liebe dich, Italy. I've told you once and I'll tell you again. I really mean it."
Italy still didn't move, tears falling to the cobbled road.
Germany reached forward and hugged his friend,
"Then let me surrender, if you love me." Italy said quietly. "I'm already lost."
Germany nodded and let him go. "Just let me do one thing…" He leaned forward and kissed Italy on the mouth. Tears from both their eyes mixed and they parted.
Germany signaled for the German troops to leave and Italy explained their appearance to the Allies.
The lie was; Germany was shocked that Rome had fallen, so they sent a troop to reclaim Rome. They left because they saw that the Italians were happy.
The Truth; Germany loved Italy. And Italy returned that love.