Okay so I know that I haven't been keeping up with my updates on the Yu-gi-oh stories but I've been having writers block and all I can get out is Hetalia.

Also, this is a prequel for my story. 'A Little Blood,' so I hope you like it, because it was really fun for me to write. I love dark Italy; he just fits it so well. And I guess I should give credit to my editor thanks for fixing the grammar.

Disclaimer: Didn't own it before, don't own it now.

Italy walked down the hall calmly. He was in no rush to get to his boss's office, for his boss was not only a pathetic man, but he was also a stupid one. This man was leading him and his people into a path of blood. Not that it was Italy's first time on such a path, but really, after so many years of it, you would think that the humans would have learned about their mistakes. Maybe one day . . . no, that was being too hopeful. Italy had long since lost that naive and hopeful outlook.

Too soon, Italy reached the office door, and was forced to throw up his mask of innocence.

"Ve~ , you called me?~" Italy smiled 'happily' rushing forward toward the man's desk.

"Yes Italy, it's about the pact you made with Germany." He had Italy's full attention now.

"Yes, Germany is Italy's best friend, and would never betray him." Italy threw in a very thinly veiled threat, just to be sure the man understood who was - and always would be - the boss of Italy.

"Well, it seems that Germany may be losing this war, and I feel that it may be better to try and pull back." The man obviously hadn't caught the threat. Looks like this will be harder than usual.

"Sir, we are already at war, and the allies aren't going to let us off just because we don't want to be involved anymore. You wanted to go to war; now you will fight it just like your ancestors. You would be dishonoring them if you turned spineless." The man looked taken aback.

"I see. Well then, it was just a thought. I think that you should go see if Germany needs any backup."

Italy smile cutely and walked away. Spineless indeed.

AT GERMANY'S HOUSE

"Ve~ Germany I'm back!" Germany looked up at the bouncing Italian.

"I can see that. What did your boss want?" A look Germany didn't recognize passed over Italy's face.

"I don't know; something about spineless weasels I think."

"You mean the fact that you keep running away during anything dangerous?"

"No, I think he meant it literally."

". . . Italy is a strange place."

"Ve~"

The phone rang very loudly before the conversation could continue to progress. Italy didn't pay much attention until the words "heading to the battlefront" were mentioned.

"Germany, I don't want to go to the battlefield it's scary."

"Well that's too bad Italy, because we're going anyways."

Italy didn't really mind the battlefield, but the blood brought out his deeply hidden sadistic side, so he tried not to stay long. The fact that he had to go with Germany was asking for trouble, and things could only go bad. And bad they did go. Germany was shot, and the world was painted Italy's favorite color, crimson.

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