"Ciao? Bella is that you?" a worried southern Italian voice rang throughout the house.
"Yes!" A voice cried out from the back door.
_ lived with her husband, Romano in Sicily. Things were pretty bad. The streets were always filled with the poor.
Everything was happening because of the unification of Italy and the taxes the northern half was asking of the southern half.
_ had just gone shopping for some food; which taxes were way too high on.
"Romano? Can you do me a favor and check the tomatoes?" She asked.
Romano got up from his seat in the kitchen and left to the front of the house where tomatoes were growing in a flower box.
He picked a few plump, bright red ones and walked back to the kitchen.
_ loved how everything she got from Romano was special. He was special, but he never felt like it. He felt useless and _ knew it. He acted like it when he was depressed; which, was most of the time.
"Are these okay, Bella?" Romano asked, setting the beautiful tomatoes on the table.
"Those are perfect, Roma~!" _ picked one up from the table and examined it. Romano took the shopping bag from the table and looked through it. He was glad to see that you had brought more tomato seeds as well as cheese and other ingredients, "Thank you for going out there..."
_ nodded, but she noticed that he seemed quieter than usual.
She made dinner and ate together with Romano at the small kitchen table.
Romano helped with the dishes and cleaned the table, this was odd.
"Romano? Is everything alright?" _ asked, her worried tone startled him.
"Sí! Everything is just fine!" He jumped when _ said something.
He suddenly stopped what he was doing and set it on the table, "I need to talk to you about something..."
She nodded, wondering what he was going to say.
"I want to go to America and get a better job, but I don't want you to go with me. I don't want to risk that chance. I will promise to come back."
"Is this hurting your behavior lately? Anyway, I permit you to go," _ knew it was for the best.
"I'll being home wealth. We won't be in this sad place anymore. I'll be going tomorrow, alright?" He responded, nervously.
_ nodded her head.

Romano was about to go by ship to America.
He had only a suitcase with him and a picture of _.
He smiled while taking a picture of _ in his mind. Who knows... maybe it could be the very last time he saw you.
He held her right hand with his left, "Bella? I'll be back... I promise..."
He kissed _ then and there.
He ran off into the ship and the ship took off.

The ship was horrible and had such poor conditions.
Romano sighed, he hated this ship. He wanted to go back to the land as soon as possible.
He sighed. The people around him were all men who also did it for their families.
If only he had the chance to start one.
America seemed like a promise land.
Too bad, it almost the opposite.
Romano befriended Antonio, who had a wife and two children of his own.
He had sat next to him the entire trip to America.
Antonio kept staring at a picture of his children and wife. Romano could see why. Antonio's wife was beautiful with medium, blonde hair and green eyes and their children were just down right cute.
Romano smiled when he saw the family.
Antonio asked about Romano's family, "So... Chico... How's your wife?"
Romano heard that Antonio came from Spain and was an immigrant to Italy.
The Italian sighed and showed him the picture of his wife, "This is _. The most beautiful person I have ever seen. She's everything to me. She even is part of the reason why I'm here. When I go back, I want to start a family with her..."
"Oh damn. She's nice," was all Antonio said.
A few days had passed and so Antonio and Romano were going to get jobs together. Because they were both short on money, they decided to live together.
When the ship had arrived, they saw the Statue of Liberty awaiting them.
When they gave the immigration people their registration forms and papers, they entered New York City.
Romano had heard of a place called Little Italy where many Italians stayed during that time. The decided to go by foot.
"Hey Romano... Do you think we're going to make it?" Antonio asked in deep thought.
"Sì. If we didn't, then what would be the point! It's obvious, idiota," Romano replied.
"Okay! Whatever ya say~!" Antonio laughed.
Romano sighed. They stopped; They had reached and area that was made for people like them. They rented a home/shack for the two if them and hoped for the best.

_ got a call from her husband's brother.
"Hey... _? Are you okay? You know... as a white widow?" The brother would ask everytime he called.
"Sì... I'm just fine. I hate that term. Please, widow gives me the idea that he died. He won't die, Feliciano!" He denied it.
"I'm sorry. I just want you to feel bad without him. Is your mother going to live with you for a while?" Feliciano asked.
"She is. Thank you for asking," _ didn't like dealing with her husband's brother. He could be a pain in the neck.
"Well... Anyway... It's a good thing that our economy is so good! You should come over here sometime! My brother's land isn't going so well... You know that, right?" Feliciano was being ignorant.
_ hanged up the phone. He was always going to bring that up. They were never going to live in northern Italy. Never. Never. Never. It would only crush her husband.

Antonio used to be a carpenter and make a bunk bed for both of them. Romano had more money than Antonio and went to buy sheets for the beds.
This was simple, but getting jobs wasn't. The landlord was nice enough to let the two friends not pay until their first paycheck.
Romano checked newspapers and Antonio reasoned things out.
"Hey. This one doesn't look so bad! It's for construction! It's not to far from here! The pay seems okay. We could have money for food and rent. Later on, they can give us a raise and we can send that to our families!" Antonio smiled and suggested.
"Seems alright. Not too shabby as ya might think. I guess we'll take it..." Romano sighed and he stuffed the paper into his coat.

_ invited her mother to say with her. She too was a white widow.
"Mama... How do you feel about Papa leaving?" _ asked.
"I'm feeling happy and proud... It's because I know that he's doing his best..." was _'s mother could think of.

Romano yawned. They got the job and their first entry was going to be tomorrow.
The two immigrants laid in their beds thinking if their families.
The first day of work was a bit hectic.
They both ran here and there, fixing and adding to a mass of metal. Who knows, maybe their grandkids might live in these buildings?
When the day was over, the two friends ate dinner at a Italian deli run by a southern Italian.
"Romano, do you like American food?" Antonio asked biting into a tomato sandwich.
Romank yawned and blinked, "Huh? Oh no. It's like animal food. How dare they eat that crap. That ain't food! Polenta is much better than oatmeal. The tomatoes here suck. I wish I was at home with my wife eating her wonderful pasta dish." Before he knew it, Romano started to drool.
Antonio laughed, "She sounds like a wonderful person."
"It's because she is," Romano added.
They next day at their job was different.
"Romano Vargas?" A tall, white man with a gawking belly called out. He was the two friends' boss. He wore glasses and had dirty blonde hair with a weird cow lick.
Romano quickly finished his task and went up to the man, "Yes, Alfred, Sir?"
He didn't like him, but he was doing it to get paid.
"We are going to settle a huge gas tank into the ground with a giant hole. We need you and few others to fix the tank while it's going to put into the ground. Alright?" Alfred demanded.
Romano looked terrified, "A large gas tank?!"
"Yeah. You'll be fine! I promise!" Alfred smiled.
Some promises can't be made out.
As the gas tank was being dropped, Romano and few others stood below it.
Antonio watched his closest friend below, hoping that he would be safe.
One of the supporting cables that was holding the gas tank had snapped. Soon all the cables were snapping.
The gas tank fell a slow pace.
Romano's eyes grew bigger as he knew it was his end.
He thought of his wife and children he could've had when the tank hit the ground.
A semi-huge explosion filled the hole making it bigger.
The only thing that was left under the explosion was dirt and soot.
Antonio cried out, "ROMANO! PLEASE! YOU COULDN'T HAVE JUST DIED! YOU WERE MY ONLY FRIEND!" The Spaniard just saw his only friend die before his eyes.
He went straight back home into his shack after that.
He took out Romano's suitcase and put the decreased Italian's stuff into it. He closed it and stuff the newspaper which had their job on it into the suitcase. He also wrote a long letter and stuffed it into the suitcase. He was going to use the last of their money to send the suit case back to his wife.
A day later, a newspaper article showed all the workers who died. The first name was Romano Vargas.
Antonio took the paper and stuff that into the suitcase. He knew it was time to send it. He was never going to forget his only friend.

_ was tending to Romano's lovely tomatoes and looked at the doorway.
Romano's image appeared as he tipped his hat towards _ and walked away, fading into a light.
_ suddenly knew that Romano, her beloved husband was gone.
A few days later, she received his suitcase with a sender named "Antonio."
She opened the suitcase to find out that it was true. He died.
She read the letter that Antonio had written about how they met and how they became friends and how he would never be forgotten.
She hugged the letter and her husband's clothes while crying down on her knees.
She stood up and called her husband's brother, "Ciao. You may call me a widow now. A black widow."

A.N.: I saw a documentary about Southern Italian immigrants going to America and this was one of those stories. I'm sorry. I don't own Hetalia either. R&R~!