Borrowed Voice

by sachiroyurei

Their fates have always been interlinked ever since the Berlin Wall. But can years of blood and pain between them be reconciled by a confession of love? Especially when one of them has no knowledge of voicing his true feelings... IvanGil, Gertaly, Spamano

Borrowed Voice

Disclaimer: Hetalia Axis Powers belongs to Himaruya Hidekaz.

---

'To be honest, Ivan and I shared a weird love-hate relationship...If, you can call it that.'

Or so, was what Gilbert thought.

'To be honest, I've always adored Gilbert...But I'm not sure if it was just pure admiration.'

That thought was common to Ivan.

The wall had been the cause.

Many blamed Ivan for the erection of the Berlin Wall, separating the Germanic brothers, and Ivan did not deny the accusation. It may have been Gilbert who built the wall, but it was done under Ivan's influence. Ivan's tactics had been underhanded, but he wanted Gilbert to join him so very much. Gilbert's succumb to Ivan's words had been, honestly, a surprise to many people.

If only they knew what the two nations spoke of that day.

"Join you? Don't kid me!" Gilbert snorted. He was Ludwig's brother, of course he would be supporting his brother all the way. Ivan's eerie smile didn't waver, but grew wider if it was possible. The albino felt uneasy at Ivan's apparent happiness.

"If you don't, Gilbert, you'll disappear."

That mere sentence struck fear into the usually boisterous nation. Gilbert kicked back his chair, standing up. Ivan, on the other hand, did not move from where he sat. He observed Gilbert as if he was a very curious child. The Prussian bit his inner cheeks, hoping that he was not trembling visibly. He would never ever show any nation his weak side. He was never supposed to be seen weak.

"What do you mean by that?" Gilbert snarled, like a cornered and injured dog.

That was what he was, Ivan thought.

"I know, that your people have been escaping to Ludwig's home. Ah yes, they always do that, don't they? Run when they don't like where they live...Unfortunately for those at my home, my lands seem to be too big to run from. They might die from the cold if they travelled on foot...But that aside, Gilbert. When a nation loses all its people, what will become of it? Even now you're already East Germany, no longer Prussia, da?"

"Shut up..."

"Will you still be a nation then? Then again, you are no longer a nation, da? At least you still have people populating your lands."

"Shut up..!"

"Or will you fade, never to see your brother again?"

"SHUT UP!"

Gilbert was backing away as Ivan took a step forward, ever slowly driving Gilbert to a dead end. When the Prussian's shoulders encountered the resistance of cold concrete, he knew he was done for. Red eyes glared up into the cheerful eyes of the Russian. "What do you want by telling me this?" Gilbert hissed.

"I can help you, Gilbert. Come to my home and work for me. I will save you from death."

Those words sounded so sincere, even though Gilbert knew the Russian was adept with treachery. But Ivan was already winning, his words planting fear into Gilbert. Gilbert had truly only one weakness in his heart, and that was his brother Ludwig. Gilbert feared nothing, but of one. He was not scared of disappearing, but he feared that he would never be able to see his brother again.

And Ivan knew it.

That was how the Berlin Wall came about, from Gilbert's fear of not being able to see his brother ever again. Ludwig had been unable to understand his actions, and the Allied Powers now saw Gilbert as an enemy who assisted Ivan. On the other side of the wall, Gilbert could not tell Ludwig his true intentions of building the wall that kept the brothers separated. Ivan was greatly was greatly comforted by the latest addition to his home. Gilbert was not the trembling quiet mouses like the Baltic brothers. He stood up to the Russian and caused a lot of trouble for Ivan even as Ivan made use of Gilbert for a lot of errands. The Russian enjoyed how Gilbert made things in his house livelier. It made his home seem...warmer. And a feeling of happiness grew within the Russian's cold heart, even though he did not understand why he seemed to enjoy Gilbert's company.

But there were days when Ivan became unhappy. It happened whenever he found Gilbert loitering near the Berlin Wall, looking longingly at it. The tall man took great pleasure in dragging Gilbert away from the wall, but he did not like seeing the expression of pain on Gilbert. Why couldn't Gilbert understand him? He simply wanted what was best for Gilbert, and that was to be part of the great Russia.

Ivan did not understand why he felt jealous of Ludwig who held Gilbert's attention.

Gilbert on the other hand, did not understand Ivan at all.

Ivan was a complex individual, but at times he was overly simplistic like a child. His actions were unreadable, but when the vodka lover explained himself, his reasons were like that of a possessive child. It was hard for the Prussian to make head or tail of Ivan's intentions. There were numerous times that Gilbert assumed that Ivan was merely making use of him, especially when Gilbert was made to do one of the Russian's dirty jobs.

But there were times when Ivan seemed innocent and vulnerable, when he stood alone in an open field, staring forlornly at the sky as the snow fell. Even once when Gilbert was ill-equipped to go outside, Ivan had, unbelievably, wrapped a muffler around his neck before pushing him out of the house. Raivis later told him that the muffler was one of Ivan's most-used ones.

Gilbert had no intention of asking Ivan why he was given that muffler, and Ivan never asked for it to be returned.

As the years passed by, all who had lived under Ivan's roof was slowly leaving him. Even Raivis had, under guidance of his brothers, voiced his wishes for independence. It would only be inevitable for Gilbert to leave one day. Ivan did not understand why, when he could even consider letting Raivis leave, he could not even think of letting Gilbert go.

"Gilbert, isn't it about time for you to make a choice? You should be one with me."

It was the same words everyday, but Ivan's expression had been different that day. Gilbert didn't read too much into it. The Russian was probably depressed about Raivis' wishes for independence. Despite the bullying, Ivan seemed to genuinely care for the small nation.

"Why're you hung up on becoming one with everyone? On some levels it's worse than having me seizing someone's vital regions," Gilbert grumbled.

"I just want to be able to live happily with everyone."

There it was again, Ivan's child-like innocence.

Gilbert gave a short bark of laughter. "Conflicts can't be solved that easily, vodka freak. Even if all the countries gather under one roof, on the inside the differences will set us apart. World peace doesn't come from forcing everyone to make decisions they hate. Besides, who will be with you if everyone else becomes part of you, idiot?"

Ivan was surprised by Gilbert's answer. How was is that Gilbert easily guessed his thoughts? "What do you mean?"

At that moment, Gilbert's warm hand landed on Ivan's head, mussing up his hair. The Prussian was grinning, in his rare moments of real amusement at Ivan's behaviour. Sometimes, Gilbert couldn't help but think that Ivan was still a child, seeking love and attention, and he would inadvertently treat Ivan as such.

"If all nations were to become part of Russia, then eventually you'll be the only nation personification left. Being the only one in the whole world, isn't that just lonely? Not to mention boring."

Ivan had been stunned by the answer, and since then had not spoken to Gilbert. And a very short two years passed, when Gilbert was free to return to the home he shared with Ludwig. Ivan had not stopped him. Had not even looked on as Gilbert rushed out of his home to the broken wall. He was alone again, in his home, too big for one person, yet too small to hold a nation back.

Everyone always left him behind.

Ivan buried these memories for the coming years, until there was a surprising news. The northern half of Italy, Feliciano was getting married to Ludwig, not a political one that involved their nations and all their people, but personal one that would only bind both the individuals. It roused his memories and his strange feelings for Gilbert that he never quite understood. It had something to do with his heart, because he felt pain there whenever he thought of how Gilbert left. And Feliciano who was getting married, must understand how feelings work as he was so determined to marry Ludwig. So Ivan reasoned that Feliciano must know what his feelings were. The Russian then decided to pay the cheerful Italian a visit, to understand what the unease in his chest was.

There was only a slight miscalculation...

"Who the hell's there...?"

A grumbling voice was heard and the door was opened, revealing a disgruntled SOUTHERN Italian with a straw hat resting on his head, a plain T-Shirt and pants on. Smudges of dirt were abundant, a sure sign that Lovino had been frolicking in his beloved fields. The Italian paused abruptly as he took in the full picture. Not even a minute later, he let out a terrified scream and skittered backwards. What the hell was THE Ivan Braginski doing at his doorstep?!

Ivan looked not a bit confused. He smiled warmly and asked, "Where is Feliciano? I would very much like to meet him for a while."

Lovino shivered, even though the Russian did not look as if he would pull out a pipe from behind his back any time soon. "Y-You're at the wrong house, bastard! This is my house! Feliciano's house is up north! You already passed it, so l-leave!" Lovino did stay over at Feliciano's so often most nations thought that the brothers lived together, but Lovino had his own place on his turf as he had to manage his farms and also rope in the Mafia whenever they misbehaved.

The Russian nodded thoughtfully, and shoved Lovino back before closing the door behind themselves. Lovino had no courage left to shout. His brother was unlikely to hear his cries for help, even if he lived just about next door since the pasta lover was on a date with his soon-to-be husband. Lovino was about to cry from sheer hopelessness.

"That's unexpected. But since you are his brother, you should be able to help me, da?"

"H-Help you...? With what, bastard? And I-I am not going to be one with you, alright?!"

Ivan made himself at home without even asking Lovino. He took a seat in the living room, steering Lovino into the space next to him. The Italian had been too shocked to move by himself. He was too much a scared nation to voluntarily sit next to Ivan. Without wasting any time, Ivan patiently described the events surrounding Gilbert and him, and the feelings that he felt from them. Without pausing, the Russian began his tale, from when he first brought Gilbert to his home. Those times, Ivan had bullied Gilbert a lot, and knowing Ivan, his bullying usually resulted in blood and physical injuries. Lovino shuddered just hearing Ivan mention it. But there was no expression of deranged joy on Ivan, strangely, only a wistful expression. The Italian shrank in his seat. What was wrong with the large nation?

"Somehow...I just wanted Gilbert's attention. When he pines for his brother, it makes me want to bully him more, da. Because when I do, he'd become so angry and he'd focus all his attention on me..." Ivan murmured. At that sentence, Lovino perked up and paid more attention. The issue at hand seemed to sound quite familiar... Ivan continued his story, mentioning of the instances when he went to great lengths to please Gilbert, like serving wurst in his home, but it seemed to have only made Gilbert more disgusted for reasons Ivan did not understand. Lovino could, though. The southern half could figure out that seeing wurst probably made Gilbert more homesick than ever. Even he knew about the Berlin Wall.

Ivan's story became stranger. From a cold nation who abused the eastern Germany, he had slowly become attached and needy of the attention and companionship from the very same ex-nation. The strange pangs he experienced was troublesome, because he did not know how to cure it. As he listened, Lovino's expression slowly changed from one of fear to one of indignant exasperation. At last, Lovino could not take it. WHY, WHY of all people it was him?!

"Of all people you had to fall in love with, it's GILBERT BEILSCHMIDT?!"

Ivan blinked at him. The Russian had the nerve to calmly contemplate while Lovino, all fear evaporated by his annoyance at the fact that the blasted potato brothers had attention, while he was unfortunately always hindered by Antonio's ineptness, was bubbling in his anger. Right now, Lovino was too angry to be afraid of Ivan.

"Love...?"

Love was foreign to Ivan. He had his sibling love from his sisters, but people do say sibling love and true love are two different emotions. Ivan reasoned that it was normal then, for him not to understand love. So he was in love with Gilbert. People in love would want the one they love to love them back, da? It was clear to Ivan, the next step to take.

"Dio, I can't believe it...What part of the Wurst bastard do you like?" Lovino scoffed, not really expecting Ivan to answer.

"His gentleness...What should I do? I want him to notice me," Ivan's reply made Lovino jump up in surprise.

"Gentle? THAT peacock?! Are you sure you're not kidding me?" The Italian retorted, in his mind already forgetting that it was the Russian he was talking to, and not Feliciano. Lovino had become too used to being consulted about the German by his brother, that he did not feel any difference when it came to Ivan, even if he was asking about the elder brother instead of Ludwig.

"Why is it that when people come to me for advice, it's ALWAYS about the potato-lovers..." Lovino muttered under his breath. He had expected it from his brother, but Ivan? The Russian would be converted to a Wurst lover, much to the sorrow of Lovino as a gourmet. How did his brother come to think that wurst was delicious?! Lovino, drifting in his daydream, could only shake his head. Love really makes people do crazy things.

To that daydreaming Lovino, Ivan answered with a (rather) sincere smile, "Perhaps you are dependable?"

Lovino's head snapped back to Ivan, as if realizing that the man was still there. But more than that, Ivan's words affected him. For someone who had been put aside for his brother many times, to be told that he was dependable, and by the Russian, no less, had a great effect on him. Lovino was seeing Ivan in a new light.

Whether that was good news or not, remained to be seen.

"Hah, of course I am dependable! So...What else do you want help with? Since I'm generous, I'll lend a hand," Lovino boasted, feeling an ego boost after Ivan's words. Ivan merely smiled in return, glad to have someone who wasn't afraid of him speak directly like this. "I want Gilbert to love me, da. Do you have any good ideas?"

The Italian's clear green eyes widened at the proclamation. "Uh...Love isn't something you force on someone, bas..."

"Ivan will be just fine, da?" The not-quite smile that followed after assured Lovino to call Ivan by name for the rest of his life.

"Ivan, okay...Love isn't something you make others do. It has to be by their own will," Lovino mentioned carefully, hoping he wouldn't trigger any Russian landmine by telling the Russian what he should do.

Fortunately, Ivan didn't look angry. He looked like a child, waiting for instructions. The Italian realized that Ivan was really clueless when it came to the issue. Lovino felt awkward. This was so not his forte. He was used to being completely serious, or completely pissed. Faced with Ivan, who would usually make him completely scared...He was now unsure of how to face Ivan who acted quite...pure. And innocent. He didn't know what sort of attitude to adapt to this Russian. Lovino absently scratched his head. "Agh!! I still have to work on my fields! Can you...just wait until I get finished? You can take a look around my house or whatever you feel like doing," Lovino mumbled and ran off to his tomatoes. He wasn't done caring for his plantation yet.

Ivan allowed Lovino to leave, knowing to let the Italian to think for a while. Otherwise, he would not have good ideas for the Russian to use. As Lovino offered, Ivan took a tour of the Italian's house. It was not all that grand, rather homey, actually, a bit unexpected of the fiery Italian. But then again there were news that the South was not as economically prosperous as the North. Ivan would know, since he had a bit of trouble handling Russian Mafia as well.

It was then, that Ivan saw something beautiful. It was at the back of Lovino's house. It was only a small garden, but there was a variety of flowers blooming. Not only daisies and camellias, but also roses and lilies. Most of all, his favourite sunflowers stood tall amongst them. They greeted him with their bright petals. Ivan felt happy that he could finally plant sunflowers in his own home, though the chilly spring of Russia was somewhat a bother to deal with at times. Surrounded by these vibrant colours and the warm atmosphere, Lovino must be such a happy person. Though the Italian always seemed more angry than happy. Maybe something was not right with his life? Apart from the hopelessly clueless nation that was Spain, that is.

The Russian spent his day in the garden until Lovino came looking for him. He wondered why Ivan was content to sit quietly in the garden. "Your flowers are beautiful..." The Russian did not really recall the older Italian's name. He remembered Feliciano's as he was made famous by his decision to wed Ludwig. Lovino gave him an exasperated half-glare and muttered, "Lovino Vargas of Italia Romano. You better remember it, idiota."

"I am sorry, comrade. I shall remember it from now on. You have wonderful hands to be able to grow such beautiful things," Ivan praised, unaware of how his praises affected Lovino.

The Italian blushed, having never been told anything like that, not even by Antonio. "T-They're just flowers! It's not a big deal," Lovino answered hesitantly. Ivan shook his head, smiling. "I've always dreamed of living at a warm place with lots of sunflowers. Well...Now I get to see at least some sunflowers at my own home...But it's never gotten any warmer."

At Ivan's forlorn expression, Lovino suddenly felt sorry for the Russian. So far, Ivan had not done anything to him...Could he really trust the Russian? No, not so easily! Lovino decided so, but at least, he could let Ivan try to gain his trust. He briefly wondered if he sympathised with Ivan because they suffered the same pain of unrequited love. Probably so, but the Southern personification would never say it aloud.

"Do...Do you think, I can come here for a vacation once in a while?"

The shy manner Ivan used when he asked was...strange. The Italian had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

"...All right...As long as you don't bring your pipe around and terrorize other people, I'll let you come!"

The smile from Ivan was dazzling. Lovino prayed he wouldn't turn stupid like Feliciano was, showing his dumb grin all the while. "Oh, and about Gilbert...He's going to be tough. He can read the situation WAY better than Antonio can...But at strange places he doesn't seem to notice a thing. I know I said love can't be forced, but maybe Gilbert may notice something if you show your love for him. Let's try some tactics that I...Err, that I know of!"

"The ones that you tested on Antonio and didn't work?" Ivan asked, not so innocent now.

"S-Shut up, bas...Ivan! He's an idiot! We all know that, che palle!"

Lovino flushed, wondering how Ivan, of all people, knew it. "A-Anyway...Can you cook?"

"No, but I can make drinks?" Ivan offered an alternative. He did love his vodka after all, and learned varieties of mixes he could come up with it. Lovino looked thoughtful. No matter what the situation, the Italian was serious when it came to love. After all, he had the reputation of being the best lover to consider. Not that he was actually dating, but still, the world decreed that Italians were the best lovers to have. So Lovino would live up to the title.

"...Alright, let's go with that. You know Gilbert better than I do, so you just make something that would fit him. Oh, and you should include the beer that he loves so much, plus some Wurst to go with it," Lovino made a face as he said so. "Do you want to give it to him directly, or what?"

"Not yet...I don't want him to know that it is from me. I'll just get someone to send it, with a stalk of sunflower," Ivan replied. He was uncertain of how Gilbert would react, and like any person in love, he was afraid of rejection.

"No, a sunflower's too obvious. Let's go with something else instead...A single field daisy and fennel," the Italian murmured, now in full lover mode. Lovino may be quite useless with a lot of things, but he was a better lover than even his brother. His list of short flings with the beautiful women of the world spoke much of his abilities. He was skilled enough even to leave a relationship smoothly, without the women crying and making a fuss, of course. It was almost a waste to be in love with Antonio. Almost.

"Why a single field daisy?" Ivan was curious, but since it was a person of experience speaking, it may be a good idea.

Lovino smirked. In one way...It was a revenge for Gilbert molesting him. Oh, the Prussian will never know what hit him. "Ivan, we'll play a code game with that Wurst bastard. Whether he notices or not, of course...Depends on his own general knowledge."

---

"Bruder, there is a delivery for you!"

Ludwig deposited the box, marked fragile, onto the dining table. Gilbert bounded into the room, eager to see what was delivered to him. Gilbert tore away the tape without any problem. He found a bottle of what seemed to be wine, a package of the finest wurst he's ever seen on the market, a pack of beer of great brand and a couple of flowers. Gilbert laid all the items out on the table. There was no name and no message, not an indication of whoever it came from.

"Do you know who sent these, bruder?"

Ludwig shook his head. The delivery boy was shaking when he sent it, and ran off as soon as he dropped it off at Ludwig's home. At that moment, Feliciano came in to check on his pasta which he had set to boil at the stove. He perked at the sight of the items on the table. "Oh, who are those for?"

"For the awesome me! Of course, I can't make head or tails of the reason why..." Gilbert muttered.

Feliciano giggled. "Ve, you have a very romantic admirer, Gil! See the field daisy? It means that the person who sent it will be thinking of you. And the fennel? Your admirer is saying that you are worthy of all praise. It's so sweet, ve~! A mysterious admirer!"

Gilbert grinned. "It's just to be expected that the awesome me has an admirer!"

Ludwig sighed. "...At least your admirer has taste." And the German meant the wurst and the beer, not the romantic gesture. He understood that the romance of it was lost upon his brother. It was perplexing to him too. Why was it that people could not directly speak about themselves? But Ludwig was not one to talk, since he has issues saying aloud his affections for Feliciano, despite being engaged now.

Lovino lowered his binoculars. The present was well-received, and the fact that Feliciano was there to translate the flower language to Gilbert made his plan smoother. The Italian grinned. He knew he could make use of Feliciano's constant presence in the German's house. Only...He did not know how would Gilbert react upon finding out that his admirer is Ivan. Not that Lovino cared. He would be more concerned with Ivan's reaction.

Lord bless that the pipe would never find a mark on his being.

The delivery boy looked terrified being in the presence of a 'great' Mafia, when it was all just Lovino in a suit with fedora and sunglasses. The delivery had to be quite fresh, and Lovino did not want to risk the trail being traced back to him or Ivan. Really, where was the deliciousness of the whole affair to go if the element of surprise was lost? Or so, was what the Mafia in Lovino said. So Lovino dressed his part as the Don of all Good Mafias and threatened a poor boy to deliver the package.

After the delivery, the boy came back to report his 'success'. Lovino smirked and sent the boy off. Ivan was already working on his next gift, something that the Russian surprisingly came up with on his own. Lovino had told him that it was good to leave some time in between before sending the next gift. It was always imperative to have a little suspense, wasn't it? The Italian got into his Maserati GranCabrio and drove off. He might not be a wealthy country, but he sure as hell could still afford a beautiful partner. In which he meant the car he drove.

For his special project however, it was going to take some time. Ivan also needed the weather of Lovino's house to make it work. It was going to be a wonderful surprise, of that he was sure. In the meantime, Lovino acted in Ivan's stead and sent another gift after a fortnight. This time, the gift held a rather special meaning. Lovino wondered if Gilbert might guess the identity of his admirer from the flowers. This time, it was Lovino who personally delivered the gift. Of course, without anyone knowing.

"Oh, what are you doing here? Feliciano and Ludwig aren't back yet," Gilbert stated when he saw Lovino seated at the living room of his house. Lovino casually shrugged and pointed to the package that he brought. "Oi, I found that sitting at your front door and did you a favour by bringing it in, che palle." Gilbert never suspected that it was in fact, Lovino who brought it and went to open the package.

Gilbert crowed with joy; his admirer had returned! The Prussian had been worried that the admiration was short-lived, but he would not acknowledge it, he was too awesome to be forgotten! This time, there was a smooth black case and two bunch of flowers again. His admirer liked meddling with the flower language thing. Gilbert reminded himself to learn up on some of it. Lovino did not expect Gilbert to call out to him, figuring the albino would be too preoccupied with his gift.

"Do you know what the flowers mean? Even if Feliciano knows, I don't really expect..."

Gilbert was cut off by a curt answer of, "Your admirer is lonely."

"Huh?" Red eyes were coloured with confusion.

Lovino silently gloated over the fact that he had Gilbert at his feet begging for answers. Well, not really begging, but one could be allowed to imagine, yes? "See this? This is lavender heather, which means admiration but also solitude. You have someone who admires you, but also feeling lonely at the same time. And the purple hyacinth means sorrow. It is also the flower language saying, 'I'm sorry. Please forgive me.' It makes me wonder who is sending you these things, che palle." Lovino added a curse for good measure. He wouldn't be Italia Romano without a few curses flying in the general direction, eh?

Gilbert fell silent. Then, the albino popped open the black case, to find a platinum cross pendant seated beautifully on the cushion within. It was nothing quite fancy, but the pendant was more radiant that anything that Gilbert had ever seen. Lovino hid a smirk behind his hand. Girls usually loved an accessory or two. He had wondered if the same theory applied to men, but seeing Gilbert's reaction dissipated his doubts. The Italian applauded his fashion sense for being spot on.

"...Hah, I know! This must be from Roderich!"

Lovino toppled out of his seat. "What made you think that, you Wurst-for-brains idiota!?"

Gilbert smirked smugly at Lovino, not knowing why Lovino was reacting like that. "Isn't it obvious? He's feeling sorry for leaving the awesome me for Elizaveta!"

Lovino sneered, "Hah! As if that will ever happen. Roderich is as straight as you are bent, che palle." Or at least that was what he thought. There were some times that the aristocrat acted strangely, well...bent, but Lovino was more concerned with convincing Gilbert that it was NOT Roderich behind these gifts. Gilbert scoffed at the elder Italian. "You are only jealous because the awesome me has an admirer and you don't."

"Va cagare! I'll have you know that I'm quite popular, idiota! Anyway, there is no way this gift is from Roderich! He's too busy spending time with Elizaveta nowadays!" Lovino exclaimed sharply and left the house fuming. Hopefully Gilbert would stay put instead of going off to Roderich to ask about it. If more people knew, the harder it would be for him to cover his tracks.

"Huh...At least that bastard is responding appropriately to the gifts. If only he'd respond just as well...if he found out who the sender was..."

The Italian had been frankly getting worried by the passing days. At first, he was afraid of being beaten by Ivan should the plan fail. But now, he was more worried for Ivan. Having handled Spain's thickness for centuries made Lovino quite resistant to the feeling of disappointment, but he doubted that Ivan could handle it well. Since he spent a lot of his time with the Russian lately, Lovino could see close up that Ivan's feelings were true. That discovery in itself had surprised Lovino who thought Ivan might have second thoughts by now. But then again, one can't be judged by his cover.

Look at himself, who'd see someone hopelessly in love with a certain dumb Spaniard?

Lovino mulled for a while. Actually, just about anyone could see it.

Right now, Ivan was enjoying his so-called vacation at his house. The Russian did not sight-see much. He preferred sitting in the garden watching the flowers or watching Lovino work on his farms. At one point Ivan even asked Lovino to teach him how to take proper care of plants. It was times like this that Lovino had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. He still dare not pinch Ivan to make sure he was the real Ivan.

"I'm home!"

A head of mussy platinum blond hair poked out from the kitchen area. Lovino shivered when a slight thought of, 'This must be what it feels like to have a spouse at home' passed through his mind. If he wanted a spouse, he wouldn't marry IVAN of all people. No, he was still too afraid of Ivan to even imagine the possibilities. Amethyst eyes looked at him expectantly. Lovino nodded to Ivan. "He took it well. It was a good idea, that cross pendant."

Ivan grinned almost shyly despite himself. Lovino had taught him a lot of things concerning love, or at least, corrected him a lot. So love was not something selfish, nor was it something to be forced onto someone else, and least of all, love could never be used as a reason to hurt someone. Apparently taking Natalya as an example was bad. Ivan should have known better. "He did always wear that cross...It's like a bond between him and Ludwig. Maybe I could use one to be my bond to him."

Lovino stared at him for a while. "You're like a...What did Kiku say...Ah, an otomen. Except you don't have much of that so-called maiden heart, che palle."

Ivan looked curiously at the Italian in return. "What is an otomen?"

"...It's better for you not to know..."

"...You will tell me, da?"

The Southern Italian cringed and inwardly cried, 'Why do I make friends with the craziest of people?!' But he surrendered to the deadly might that was Ivan. "I-It's a blend of otome and men. Otome's the japanese term for those err...pure-hearted young girls...? So otomen is...a pure-hearted guy?"

Ivan continued to look at him, before he nodded. "I will take that as a compliment."

Lovino nodded quickly, hoping that Ivan will not discover further implications of being an otomen. Besides, Ivan was not completely an otomen. Otherwise he wouldn't threaten Lovino to tell him things. "...How's that project going?"

"Two more weeks, Lovino, and we shall find out."

Gilbert's third gift had been covered with holes. More accurately, the box was riddled with open holes. It was dropped off by a scared looking kid who insisted that it was directly given to the albino. Feliciano looked pleased to see it. "Another gift from your admirer, Gilbert?" Gilbert didn't notice the aura of happiness around Feliciano, but Ludwig did. The German suspected that his fiance might know something about the gifts, but for now he kept quiet and observed.

"Yeah! I wonder what's inside..."

Gilbert removed the cover quite carefully, and resisted a gasp when he saw what was inside. It was a fluffy little yellow bird, almost identical to the one usually sitting on his head (as it did right now). The bird was nestled on a black and white muffler, along with its usual encrypted messages in the flowers. Gilbert's little bird fluttered down to its new friend. Both birds stared at each other, before they flapped open their wings and puffed up their chests, as if showing off.

Feliciano giggled, looking at the little birds do a quirky dance before settling into satisfied balls of fluff together. Gilbert just looked on, completely mesmerised. He always had a weakness for cute things. "New flowers, Gilbert~ Ve, would you need help with the translation?" The Italian offered. Gilbert smirked, holding up the single red tulip. "I know this means my admirer loves me, right? The awesome me has been studying after all! But...What about this??"

Feliciano's eyes softened at the wide petals. "Your admirer is asking, 'Please love me back.' That is what jonquil means." Gilbert paused momentarily, pondering on the messages his admirer sent him. He lifted the muffler, which was knitted in black and white, out of the box. The muffler was made in the colour of his flag. Was it done so, or a mere co-incidence? Only then did the ex-nation realize there was an card still sitting in the box. He picked up the card and flipped it open.

"If you wish to know who I am, please come to the place where the Berlin Wall first fell in three days, when the clock strikes twelve noon."

"My admirer wants to see the awesome me! Finally, the awesome me will know who his admirer is!" Gilbert laughed aloud, grinning wildly in anticipation. Feliciano smiled along, but his smile did not have the usual thousand megawatt brightness. "Ve, good luck, Gilbert! Ludwig, I want to make some pasta! Let's go buy some flour!"

"Flour? But Feliciano, there is..."

"Ve, let's go!" Feliciano cut off his fiance and dragged the blond out, much to the blond's confusion. However, Ludwig did not deny the Italian and followed Feliciano out, hollering, "Osten, look after the house and keep it clean!"

Gilbert responded by sticking his tongue out.

Once the couple travelled far away from the house, Ludwig knew there was no better opportunity than now. "Do you know who bruder's admirer is, Feliciano?" Feliciano nodded slowly, knowing he was a terrible liar and he did not see the need to hide the fact from his fiance. "I didn't know until recently, ve." Ludwig could sense that something was putting the brunette at unease. No words were needed, as he could see the normally carefree Italian's expression shadowed with thoughtfulness.

"...Are you worried that something bad will happen to bruder?"

"I'm more worried for what might occur between the both of them." Feliciano's cryptic answer left the German baffled, but he did not press further. The Italian could hold a secret very well when he wanted to. Little did they know, some distances away, Lovino Vargas was also worried about the same thing. Ivan seemed anxious and restless, even if he did not visibly show it. It was obvious from the fact that he saw Ivan no longer smiling when he saw his favourite sunflowers.

"...I'm going to see him."

"W-Whatever. I still can't believe you actually hatched the chick and knit that thing yourself," Lovino scoffed, trying to lighten the situation. He was not supposed to be living in a highly stressful situation like this, or he would end up with that dancing mania disease again. The poor Italian often succumbed to stress-related diseases. Lovino mentally shook his head; it was time for another appointment with the pyschiatrist.

Maybe he needed a retreat to a quiet place, like Tibet or something.

"I have to show him I am prepared to put effort into a relationship, da?" Ivan smiled softly. Lovino resisted the urge to tremble, as he had done so for the past month. Seeing Ivan smile like that made Lovino question his sanity, even if he now understood that the Russian had a capacity for gentleness. Only when he felt like it, though. Which still made Lovino vulnerable to moments of Russian Horror.

"...I'm not going to stop you...But you're absolutely sure?"

"It's my first love, da? So I feel that I must face it will all I have," Ivan answered.

"Heh, this coming from a person who used to hide behind childish actions?" The Italian snorted, but the Russian could tell his words held no real venom. Lovino bit his inner cheeks, cursing himself. If only he had that much courage to face Antonio...But he was too afraid of confronting the Spaniard in a tell-all face-off, in fear of rejection. That wall stood towering over Ivan, but true to his nature, Ivan was not afraid. "A-Anyway, if it's good, I'll make something for dinner. If...If it goes bad, I'll make your favourite! N-Not because I'm worried, okay, I just want to know if I succeeded in helping your case, che palle!"

Lovino flushed while making his offer, trying to let Ivan know that he would be with the Russian regardless. Of course, typical of himself, he couldn't say it honestly. His visitor nodded, smiling, even when he was filled with anxiety. He was not kind to Gilbert in the past, because then, he did not know his feelings. Even now, Gilbert treated him with caution. But there had been a small number of nice memories too, and Ivan could only hope they indicated that he was not entirely the insane Communist everyone painted him to be.

The wait for three days to pass had been agonizing to those who knew of the affair.

On that day, Feliciano had chosen to stay at Lovino's house. Of course he could see how antsy Lovino was, especially when he learnt of what transpired. Brothers can't keep secrets too long from each other. Feliciano was surprised to learn that Ivan was the admirer, but on the other hand he did not doubt even for a moment that Lovino was the one who gave Ivan ideas to work with. His brother could be very creative when it come to expressions of love. Who wouldn't, if each one was wasted time after time on an oblivious Spaniard?

"Don't worry, ve! I'm sure Gilbert will accept Ivan~!"

The Northern Italian had been intimidated in the beginning, but seeing that his brother could befriend the Russian, which was a miracle because his brother could be snappish or completely terrified of someone, prompted him to befriend Ivan as well. Lovino mildly glared at his brother, trying not to stare at the HIDEOUS ring on his finger.

"I like to dream once in a while too, idiota, but look at the damned reality! You've been seeing that potato bastard during those twenty-eight years, didn't you? And from what I hear when that albino got back home, he didn't exactly look pretty. And, you expect him to believe that it was Ivan being unconsciously jealous? Voa, I'd really hate to see what Ivan can do when he's rejected," the elder Italian sarcastically commented.

"B-But fratello! You said so yourself, Ivan seems to be really sorry and he wants to be nice and treat Gilbert kindly!" Feliciano insisted on behalf of their absent friend.

"That's not the issue, fratello. The issue is with whether that Wurst bastard is going to believe that change in Ivan or not, che palle. I am looking at it practically even if I don't want to, but Ivan's chances are low. Because the damages inflicted on Gilbert, from what I've heard from Ivan himself, isn't as light as a jealous tantrum. During those unsteady times, it was hard for Ivan to control the murderous tendencies caused by his own people in him. But will Gilbert, the one who suffered the brunt of it, believe that? That's the most important key, idiota."

Lovino scowled, swearing to God he would kill the albino if anything other than the positive outcome occured. For one, it could cause Ivan to have a breakdown. Two, it meant his efforts went down the drain (And Lovino REALLY hates it when that happens. See how he tried to help Antonio for nothing?) Lastly, Ivan's possible breakdown could mean really, really bad things for a lot of them. Feliciano suddenly giggled, glomping his brother. Lovino was really such a kind person.

"But isn't it such an adorable hobby? I didn't know Ivan could knit, ve~"

Lovino rolled his eyes, not snapping at his brother for hugging him. "I thought it was that American's alien switching Ivan's body with another soul at first. Then Ivan says he likes knitting because he needs the thick sweaters and scarfs for the weather, and it distracts him from the loneliness of living alone. I...guess it makes sense that way." Just then, the clock struck twelve, tolling its bells.

Gilbert was frozen where he stood. He arrived half an hour earlier, wanting to make a good impression on his admirer. But the person who arrived at the meeting spot, was none other than Ivan Braginski. The tyrant. "What are you doing here?" The albino hissed. Whenever he saw his former abuser, he automatically became rigidly formal. Ivan smiled, feeling a sense of impending doom. But he quashed the feeling, and stepped up until he was face to face with the one whom he has to confront. "...I assume that you have come under my invitation, da?" The Russian replied, keeping a straight face.

Reaction was instant.

Gilbert backed away from the taller man, expression twisted into one of anger. Ivan's heartbeat stopped at that sight, or so he thought it did. He anxiously prayed that it didn't have to come to this, but whatever God he prayed to obviously did not answer him. The Prussian's hackles were raised, and the words that came from him were not something Ivan wanted to hear.

"It was YOU?! Hah...I can't believe it...I actually fell for your trick!"

"It's not a trick, Gilbert," Ivan answered slowly.

"Don't fuck with me, Ivan! Are you bored? So you've got nothing to do except play mind games with me?" Gilbert yelled, not giving a shit to the attention he attracted with his loud voice. Ivan tried to approach him, but the latter backed away as much as Ivan stepped forward. "I'm tired of this mind-fuckery! Was those twenty eight years not enough for your playtime?!"

Ivan stopped moving as soon as those words left Gilbert's lips. "...It's not like that..." If Gilbert had heard him carefully, he would have discovered that Ivan was almost stuttering. Crimson eyes narrowed mockingly at the sight of the tall nation who seemed to cower before him. "Not like that? Do you expect me to believe that bullshit? I still have those scars you gave me when you were bored out of your mind! You were like a child, but far worse. You only know how to hurt people for your fun!"

It's not like that!

But Ivan found his voice stuck in his throat. His chest was becoming painfully uncomfortable. A small voice in the back of his mind whispered, Take him, hurt him, force him to accept! You are Russia, no one can stop you! You are used to taking what you want, da?

At the same time, another voice yelled in his mind, the melodious yet huffy trill of a certain Italian he had befriended, the form of the righteous angel that everyone would have in a constant battle with the demon of their own hearts, saying, Someone used to say, don't expect a return in love. Love is something to give. Love is a paragon of generosity.

And Ivan knew what to say, in the face of his newfound pain. "If you truly feel that way, please, walk away."

"Then I'll excuse myself," Gilbert spat viciously and ran, wanting to put as much distance as he could between them. Ivan himself turned away, slowly walking back to his vehicle, only one destination in mind.

"Aah, this day is hot!" Lovino complained a bit as he watered his tomatoes. They were about to grow ripe, which made the Italian quite happy. Feliciano was standing in the shade, whistling as he prepared lemonade for the both of them. The clock was slowly ticking its way to half past one when they heard the front door open.

Feliciano raised his head attentively in the direction of the sound. "That must be Ivan, ve~!"

The older Italian turned off the tap and carelessly tossed the hose aside, both brothers running to the living room to see the results of the whole affair. What they found was Ivan huddled on the sofa, his scarf tightly wrapped around his neck. Completely forgetting for a moment that it was IVAN he was talking to, Lovino snapped, "What the hell are you thinking, vaffanculo?! Wearing a scarf during summer?! Do you want to die of dehydration, che palle?! Va cagare!"

Ivan just curled up tighter. "...I'm cold...It's so cold here..." Feliciano felt a sharp pang when the man grasped at his chest. It was stark obvious now; the meeting had gone horribly wrong. Lovino went quiet for a while. Then, to the surprise of Feliciano and Ivan, the southern Italian picked up the water pipe that Ivan had neglected for some time and marched to the door. Immediately, his brother knew what he wanted to do.

"Ve!! Non, fratello, you musn't!"

Feliciano made an amazing leap over the sofa and tackled his brother to the ground. Lovino began struggling against Feliciano, yelling, "Vaffanculo! Merda! Let me beat him, che palle! Va cagare! It's for his own good, I swear!" The following list of expletives were so overwhelming, if Feliciano was not so busy restraining Lovino, he'd be gaping in amazement. It was only at strange times like this that the southern Italian was unnaturally strong.

"It's alright, comrade...I made peace with my feelings, da. If he cannot accept it, I will not force it upon him. You taught me that," Ivan placated, smiling softly. Lovino threw down the water pipe, dissatisfied yet unable to do a thing. Feliciano released his brother after making sure he was not going to go on a rampage again.

"...Damn it, fine. You, come with me." Lovino grumbled, pulling Ivan to his feet. "Feliciano, grab me a towel and something for him to wear from his luggage. It's upstairs in the guest room."

"Where are you taking me?" Ivan asked, quite curious.

Lovino smirked. "A hose-down in the backyard. I bet you never did that, since you'll freeze to death in Russia if you do so. Consider it a new experience granted by me, since I am that amazing." Even as he dragged Ivan out he was tugging the scarf off, demanding the Russian to strip down to his boxers so that he could spray Ivan with water and cool him off. After all, Ivan nearly baked himself just now. Feliciano smiled, recognizing it as Lovino's tsundere effort in cheering up Ivan.

"Ve, then I'm going to make lunch~!"

"...Lovino, may I ask your help for one last thing?"

Lovino tilted his head towards Ivan, confusion written in his eyes.

"You don't need to be polite like that, che palle. Just tell me what you want done. Whether if it's paying a 'courtesy call', or giving a warning, just name it and I'll put my boys to it. But I'll be going out personally if you want someone to bash the bastard's face in."

No one pisses off an Italian, particularly an Italian who was Don to all Good Mafias. (And by Good Mafias, he means the ones that actually obey him.) Ivan wondered why Lovino was a weakling when he had such good methods for disposing of people he hated.

"Not favours like that, comrade. What I need is..."

---

Gilbert was in a bad mood for the whole day. Even Ludwig knew to leave his brother alone. It could only be one thing that made his brother so unsettled; the admirer. Feliciano seemed to know something about it, so Ludwig made some time to make a private phone call. He did not need to wait long before his cheerful fiance picked up.

"Ve, Ludwig~?"

"Feliciano...It's about bruder's admirer. Do you think you can tell me who it is? He's just come back from that meet-up, and he is in a terrible temper now."

There was a pause on the other side of the line. Feliciano's voice picked up again, but less cheerful than it initially was. "I can tell you...But not now. Can I come over and see you tomorrow, Ludwig? I'll tell you then."

"Alright. See you tomorrow then."

"Ve~! Ti amo, Ludwig!" And the phone was put down.

Ludwig sighed. It looks like it was time to put the good beer out and roast some wurst for Gilbert. At that time, said albino was currently cooped up in his room, fuming. His bitter memories came back to him, a feeling that he had been suppressing for a long time. He had allowed himself to be played a fool by Ivan. Gilbert resisted the urge to scream his frustrations out, knowing it would only alarm Ludwig. It had been like that since the Berlin Wall years. Gilbert knew he was a hopeless idiot to fall in love with Ivan, of all people, but he could not help it. He first noticed the special place Ivan held in his life when he discovered that he wanted to protect Ivan from the feeling of loneliness. Gilbert had been attracted, so to say, by the childlike-ness of Ivan's thoughts.

Initially, he thought Ivan had no notice of his feelings. But it was all too soon, when it seemed that Ivan knew that he was favoured by Gilbert, and only abused this knowledge. Ivan was not hesitant to hurt him, even when he was conscious of Gilbert's was once when Ivan cooked wurst, and it further stoked Gilbert's anger. Ivan had taunted his feelings of homesickness by purposely serving him his homeland's food. Gilbert thought he was free from the miserable one-sided love that day when the wall fell. He didn't expect Ivan to continue mentally and emotionally torturing him, raising his expectations only to cast him down from the highest peak. Ivan held no love for him, and he still pretended to be sincere with him! That was the last straw for him. The worst was discovering that despite the abuse, he STILL held feelings for the Russian! As he sulked to himself, he noticed the two fluffy birds. His little bird had taken to the other very well...But not anymore. "Oi, you're sent by that vodka bastard, aren't you? Get the hell away from my bird!"

Gilbert snapped, trying to swat away the little bird that was gifted to him, now that he knew the sender was Ivan. The bird chirped in distress, trying to avoid Gilbert's hand. Gilbert's little bird jumped into his hand and promptly landed a sharp peck onto his palm. Gilbert yelped, from shock rather than pain. His own bird attacked him! Gilbird ruffled up his feathers, puffing out his chest, chirping a series of sound that sounded angry. The little yellow bird then urged its stressed companion to the window, and both of them flew off. It completely blew Gilbert's top.

"So you're leaving me too?! Fine! Don't come back!"

The door tentatively opened. "...I heard you shouting, bruder. Are you alright?" Gilbert calmed down at the sight of Ludwig, but the frown remained on his face. "My stupid bird's eloped with the other one..." He still did not want to tell Ludwig that Russia was the cause of his foul mood.

Ludwig tried not to face-palm, knowing his brother did love the bird a lot. "I made some wurst. Let's go eat, Osten." The blond led his brother downstairs, hoping Feliciano would explain everything to him by tomorrow.

Lovino could not believe he was standing here, for the second time. He after all, made no voluntary visits to the Germanic brothers' house unless Feliciano was there and he had business with his brother. In his hand were a bouquet he had picked for Ivan's request. The Italian did not want to be anywhere near Gilbert, for fear he might not be able to stop himself from assaulting the albino, but it was Ivan's request. So, he had to do it.

As expected, it was Ludwig who answered the door. Lovino stepped in without making any sort of greeting, looking around as he did. "Where's the idiota? He's still being crazy?" Ludwig eyed the bouquet in Lovino's hand, shocked, a look of confusion in his eyes. "Are you the admirer, Lovino?! Why would bruder be angry with you?" Lovino's jaw dropped, nearly dropping the bouquet in surprise.

"Vaffanculo!! Are you insane, che palle?! Of course I'm NOT! I'm just the messenger...Is he in his room?"

"Ja..."

Lovino rolled his eyes, knowing the question that Ludwig was hesitant to ask. "I won't say anything about it. Code of honour. But fratello will be here soon anyway, so go and bother him instead." With that said, the Italian trudged upstairs to confront a very stubborn and, unknowingly mistaken, albino. Ludwig sighed. He wasn't happy with being the only one left out of the loop, but apparently whatever was going on, was out of his jurisdiction. Maybe it WAS better that he wasn't involved. The blond stepped out, deciding to wait for his fiance from the front porch.

"Oi, idiota! I'm coming in!"

Lovino kicked the door open without much of a fuss, ignoring Gilbert's gape of shock to have his door thrown open, revealing a brunette with a leg raised. "Lovino?! What the hell are you doing here?!" The next moment had Gilbert backing away warily when his nose was touched by the cold curve of a metal water pipe. Lovino wielded it like it was a natural weapon, poking Gilbert backwards with it threateningly.

"If you were not famiglia, I'd have trashed you, vaffanculo! If Ivan were not as merciful as he was now...Hn, consider yourself lucky. Now take this."

The bouquet of flowers were thrust into the confused Prussian's arms. Scoffing at the idiotic expression Gilbert possessed, the Italian left as abruptly as he arrived. The belated reaction came only when Lovino was heading downstairs, Gilbert bursting out of his room. "Hey, I don't want these stupid flowers! They're from Ivan, aren't they?! What are you doing, bringing his things to me?!" He was answered with one edge of the water pipe tapping his chest warningly, Lovino's eyes taking on a hint of red.

"Take. It. Feliciano will tell you what it means when he comes by later. If you throw it, I'll break both your arms, bitch."

Gilbert, for the first time in his long life, was intimidated by the usually cowardly Lovino. But right now, the Italian who was tapping into the darker part of his soul was truly like the Mafia who populated his lands. Satisfied that he seemed to have shut Gilbert up, Lovino left, tipping down his fedora as he stepped out of the house. Being bad felt good, the Southern Italian grinned and walked past his brother.

Feliciano saw Gilbert the moment he entered the house. Gilbert jumped when he saw his soon-to-be in-law. He was NOT prepared for a double whammy from the Italian brothers! However, the younger Italian merely smiled at him, instead of snapping his head off like Lovino did. "Ciao, Gilbert! I hope fratello has not been giving you a hard time." Gilbert sighed in relief.

"Mein Gott, he was half-crazy just now! At least you aren't trying to kill me with a water pipe."

Feliciano giggled. "That's why I try not to make fratello angry. He can be very scary when he snaps, ve~"

Gilbert was about to agree when something that Lovino mentioned came back to him. "Wait...He said you'd tell me what the flowers mean. Were you in on this?" The younger Italian's smile dimmed. He had thought Gilbert would be able to forgive Ivan, and even if he did not return the Russian's feelings, he could have let him down more gently. Why was love so easily forsaken?

"I didn't at first, ve. Then when I visited fratello one day, I saw them. Ivan was knitting, you know? It was such an adorable sight, so I decided to help them. I won't force you, because feelings aren't something to be forced. Do you still want to know what Ivan is trying to tell you...even if you've already made your choice??"

Feliciano questioned, gesturing towards the flowers in Gilbert's hands. Gilbert stared hard at each bloom, bright and colourful.

"...The awesome me is a man. I'll see things through till the end."

The Northern Italian nodded. He himself had devised a way to convey Ivan's feelings better. Merely telling Gilbert the meaning of the flowers would not bring the desired effect. That was why Feliciano added a little of his own matchmaking charm to it. He gently took the bouquet from Gilbert and drew out the yellow tulip. With the tip of his fingers, he tilted Gilbert's head up and tucked it behind his ear. If Feliciano was not engaged to his brother, Gilbert would have taken that as an invitation.

"I knew that it was a hopeless love, which is why I now send you a yellow tulip, to let you know that I was aware of this fact the whole time," Feliciano spoke. For a moment, Gilbert thought Feliciano was talking about himself, but the brunette was looking at the tulip instead of him. The Italian took the violet flower out next, putting it into Gilbert's hand. He clasped Gilbert's fingers around the delicate plant. Feliciano's gaze never left it, and said,

"This is why...As a sign of my last salutations to you, I send you cyclamen. For farewell, goodbye to you I say."

The last one was what seemed to be a normal rose. Gilbert knew very well this flower usually meant I love you. Feliciano picked it up, putting the bouquet's plastic aside. He tucked it into the breast pocket of the Prussian's shirt, patting it down softly. This time, Feliciano looked up at Gilbert. This was his last effort.

"A simple rose will never be able to convey my feelings. So in its place, I offer a hybrid tea rose, for it whispers, "I'll always remember. I love you still." Even if, with the cyclamen I've said my farewell."

Feliciano didn't expect Gilbert to suddenly grab his hand. He jumped at the force which the albino used to hold him. "G-Gilbert?"

"Why does it all sound so damn sincere?! When all he's ever done is play with my feelings!"

The Italian stared in disbelief at the distressed Prussian. He was quite sure he heard wrong, if it wasn't for the fact that he never had hearing problems. "Erm...Gilbert? What do you mean...play with your feelings?"

Gilbert's head snapped up, his crimson eyes blazing with emotion. "Why else would he torture me, when I willingly went with him during that year? Why else would I let him hurt me, even when I could have easily walked away? He knows that I love him, and he's just doing this to taunt me, isn't he?"

All the ideas linked together in Feliciano's mind. He dramatically gasped, breaking out of Gilbert's grasp in his shock. It became Feliciano's turn to grab the other man when the smaller brunette's hands landed on Gilbert's shoulders and shook him. "DIO!! We're all going in the wrong directions!! Gilbert, why are you so thick?! Fratello, where are you?! Fratello!!" Without explaining himself, Feliciano dragged Gilbert out, just to find Ludwig and Lovino waiting outside.

Both looked surprised to see Feliciano bursting out with Gilbert in tow. "Fratello, we have to find Ivan!! You have to explain everything to Gilbert!" With a strength that Ludwig did not know his fiance possessed, Feliciano shoved Gilbert into the back of his car, before throwing Ludwig into the driver's seat. Lovino had voluntarily jumped into the back seat with Gilbert while the other brunette who was now ranting rapidly in Italian hopped into the passenger seat, pausing momentarily from his rant just to say, "We need to go to Lovino's house, now!"

"Ja!" Caught up by the whirlwind of events, Ludwig simply answered in his usual military salute and sped off.

Lovino, having heard of every thing that occured between his brother and the albino from the rant Feliciano was going about, turned to Gilbert, pipe raised. "I knew I should have bashed your head in when I had the chance, vaffanculo!"

"Non, fratello!!"

"What the hell did the awesome me do?!"

"Don't make noise when I'm driving!!"

For a while, the car shook with internal chaos, with Lovino in the back trying to hit Gilbert unsuccessfully, while Feliciano was trying to coax his brother to stop, and Ludwig feeling the impending pain of a migraine. Lovino, after being calmed by Feliciano, sat back with his hackles raised. Gilbert felt unsafe sitting next to him. "You bastard! Va cagare! Che palle! Merda! Vaffanculo! Anyway...I thought you were better than Antonio! Is it only Francis among the Bad Companions who can read the atmosphere?! God damn it, pay for my counseling fees!!"

"Fratello, you're going on the wrong track!" Feliciano squealed, peering into the rear view mirror anxiously at them.

"Fine! Listen up, you potatoes-for-brain bastard. I can swear upon my honour that Ivan Braginski acted true, and he has NO inkling of the feelings that you claim you have for him. Even I couldn't tell, and unlike a few idiotas who live near me who can't even catch love in the air, I can tell some people's feelings, so you hid your so-called feelings pretty well. Even IF that scary guy really knew and was playing you around, would he have approached me in the first place?"

Lovino turned his olive green eyes towards Gilbert. "He told me everything from the beginning...of the Berlin Wall, until now. If he was going to taunt you, he didn't have to go to great lengths to spin a tale to trick me. But what really assured me, was his sincerity. I gave him a few ideas, and I arranged for the coded messages for the flowers. But the messages behind the flowers are all from Ivan himself. The foodstuffs from the first gift were his own picks, but the wine was bottled by himself. It was potato wine, right? Apparently made from potatoes but tastes quite like vodka." The Italian rolled his eyes as he said so. Trust Ivan to find a meaningful symbol to the union of their interests, vodka and potatoes.

"The second gift? I chose the pendant, but Ivan was the one who suggested that I choose a cross. The muffler you got in the third gift was something he knitted himself, matching the colours of your flag. The chick? Oh, you won't believe me. He hatched it himself using an incubator. It took him about a month doing that. He did that because your bird seemed lonely, just being by himself. You don't get this level of devotion simply from a man like Ivan. You just had to ruin it all by misunderstanding the whole damn situation."

"Then how do you explain my scars?!" Gilbert exclaimed, unable to take in all ludicrous statements at once.

"I think Ivan is unaware of his own savageness." This time, it was Feliciano who spoke. "From what I heard from fratello, Ivan already had feelings for you during the Berlin Wall years. That's why everything he did...Was because he couldn't understand himself. He just acts the way he is unconsciously. Fratello mentioned something very important too...That in those years, Ivan was controlled by the will of his people. I think that speaks true of us all as nations. Please understand, Gilbert...I believe that Ivan really never meant to hurt you. He truly is like a child, that's why when he acts cruel, he doesn't realize it. Just like a child doesn't when they act unintentionally cruel."

"Yeah, it's just like how Antonio NEVER sees when I want to tell him something," Lovino huffed. It would've sounded like a childish complaint, but Gilbert understood what Lovino said. While he had physical scars to show for Ivan's actions, Lovino must be carrying emotional wounds from Antonio's countless thoughtlessness. Then, was it alright for him to trust Ivan?

"...What do you want to do now, bruder?" Ludwig asked, steady as he drove on. He would turn away, only if Gilbert wanted it.

"Get me to Lovino's house, as fast as you can, Westen."

"Ja!"

---

"You should return to Gilbert, da? He must be worried about your disappearance..."

Gilbird puffed out his feathers, strutting proudly although he had naught but yellow plumage to display. Ivan smiled at the show of haughtiness. The bird certainly did resemble his owner. The other one that Ivan hatched, though for now the Russian did not know its gender, was tentatively named Roman. Mainly, it was named after Lovino, whose nation name was Romano. Roman was simply a Russian name which had the closest sound to it.

It was sometime around yesterday that Gilbird and Roman sought him out. Ivan had no idea why, but he allowed the birds to stay with him. Despite being together for only a few days, the two birds seemed quite close together. At least someone had a happy ending. Ivan tried not to think about his disastrous event. He hoped the coldness of his house could numb his heart once he got back. Even his favourite sunflowers and comfortably warm weather could not cheer him up.

Lovino and Feliciano had been gone some time, and Ivan hoped they would return in time for a siesta together.

"Don't fucking push! I'm unlocking the door!"

Lovino's voice was heard, and there was generally a lot of din. Ivan got up, wanting to open the door and save Lovino the effort of opening it when the door swung open and Gilbert came tumbling in. Lovino nodded briefly at Ivan while Feliciano waved cheerfully, giving him a thumbs up. Ludwig merely stood there, feeling awkward as he was entirely unrelated to the event, but he gave Ivan a 'hurt-him-and-you'll-regret' look before the door was slammed shut.

"...Gilbert? What are you doing here?"

Ivan was nervous, but it was kept well-hidden behind a smile. Gilbird and Roman were huddled on top of the windowsill, watching the confrontation. Gilbert frowned at the Russian, still angry, but at himself. "Why the hell are you still smiling at a time like this?! Why aren't you being the kid you are and throwing a bloody tantrum?!" Gilbert slapped himself on the forehead; he hadn't meant for his words to come out like that. The Russian's smile never faltered for a second.

"I've been a child long enough without realizing how much of a burden it has been for many others, da."

"You're a damn idiot, you know that Ivan? You should be angry at me," Gilbert growled, stomping onwards to Ivan, who was getting more confused. "What do you mean, Gilbert? I'm the one who scarred you, da? Why must I be angry at you?"

"Because I mocked your feelings...B-But that's because you were too dense to notice mine! I thought you already knew..."

Crimson eyes faltered and looked aside. Ivan was becoming increasingly alarmed. Was Gilbert...blushing? The great nation of Russia rubbed his eyes. The scene didn't go away. By Gods, Gilbert Beilschmidt was really going red like a tomato! He suddenly understood why Antonio had fun likening Lovino's red face to that of a tomato's; it really was that adorable. "...Pardon, comrade...But you mentioned your feelings? I am sad to say that I do not understand you at all." Gilbert being adorable did not help Ivan in understanding the situation, unfortunately.

The Prussian ex-nation straightened up, a scowl blooming on his lips once more. "Ivan, for what reason did you think I stayed with you even during times when your temper was like the blizzard storm? I'm not like the spineless Baltic nations who can't stand up to you, you of all people should know that. Natalya, who loves you so much, even sees me as a threat! Can't you figure it out? I love you, Ivan Braginski, as crazy as that sounds!"

Gilbert huffed, using up all the air in his lungs to make the declaration. Now the cat's officially out of the bag. He stared hard at Ivan, waiting for a reaction to come. He was prepared to be beaten up for causing the whole fiasco from his misguided thinking. "I'm not going to make excuses. I pushed you away at first because I thought you knew about my feelings and you were just doing this ruse to mock the awesome me, but the brothers have explained it all to me. I was stupid for pushing you away. So if you want to hit me, just do it. The awesome me won't run away."

When Ivan raised his hands, Gilbert met his gaze head-on. He was not going to be afraid for receiving something he deserved. Neither heard the gasp that escaped Feliciano, who had been peeking from outside through the window. Lovino's approving nod abruptly paused halfway when Ivan hugged the Prussian instead of hitting him.

"What is he doing?!" The older Italian roared in horror and raised his arm to break open the window if Feliciano had not been there to restrain his brother.

"It's amore, fratello! We musn't interrupt!" Feliciano insisted, manhandling his brother away from the window.

Meanwhile, Gilbert was shocked. He expected to be lying on the ground covered with blood by now, not a warm embrace by the nation he had quite humiliated just yesterday. "...Ivan, are you alright?"

"Da, Gilbert. I am only very happy," Ivan's muffled voice was still audible, the taller nation's face nestled in the crook of Gilbert's didn't fully understand, but it was better this way than the other. He returned the hug, a familiar grin surfacing on his lips once more. "I guess this means we're an awesome couple now!" Ludwig resisted the urge to advise his brother to be more subtle when the door banged open suddenly.

"Where's the tension and drama?! How can you conclude it just like that?!"

Ivan looked mildly surprised while Gilbert's jaw literally dropped. Elizaveta was standing there, face gone red from the anticipation and eyebrows drawn together from the disappointing end to the very interesting faceoff she had been spying, err, chanced upon. Seeing that the scene had been interrupted, the Italian brothers and one German trooped, or in the case of the brothers, rushed into the house as well. "Ve, Elizaveta! You've disrupted their hard-earned amore!" Feliciano squealed, an expression of half-horror adorning his adorable face.

"Elizaveta, how the hell did you suddenly jump out of a bush in my yard?! What were you doing there in the first place?!" Lovino demanded, the angry Italian honestly shocked by the abrupt appearance of the Hungarian girl. Elivazeta smiled coyly and answered, "Oh dear Lovino, I am summoned whenever love calls my name."

"The hell it did!" Lovino snapped. Dio, please let it not be that Elizaveta was a stalker.

"What do you mean, the tension and drama?! If you ask me, I've had enough tension and drama yesterday until just now to last me a lifetime, and the awesome me is obviously TOO awesome for shit like that!" Gilbert finally managed to speak, sulking at Elizaveta. Elizaveta pouted, sending shivers down the Prussian's spine. Such an innocent expression was unfit for a cunning, brutal pan-wielding woman such as the brunette!

"Gilbert, you have no romantic bone in your body! There should be more angst about the misunderstanding that caused the crack! What happened to smoothing out the kinks and gaining a deeper meaning of the love you have for each other?! There's so much room for development!" Elizaveta pronounced imperiously.

Ludwig sighed; he had seen Elizaveta go on such rants when she hung around Kiku. "Mein Gott, this is not one of those comics you like to draw with Kiku." Feliciano and Lovino both gave him confused looks, which the blond discreetly ignored. Kiku's comic drawing habit was somewhat a sworn secret, ever since the Japanese gave him a very interesting comic about himself and his fiance for their engagement...Without the knowledge of Feliciano, of course. The German's ears went red, and he coughed a little to clear his throat when he recalled the contents of the comic, or rather, doujinshi as it was known in Kiku's language. He'd rather not have his fiance find out that he had a doujinshi of themselves that was quite graphic; Feliciano might get mad. But Ludwig was obviously wrong about that, even if he was unaware. Feliciano pouted at his fiance, knowing for sure that Ludwig was hiding something. He swore to dig out whatever his fiance hid, just like how he discovered Ludwig's SM stash.

"Elizaveta, you say there is not enough drama, da?" Ivan finally spoke up, drawing everyone's attention.

Fearlessly, the Hungarian lady stood before him and nodded. "Yes! Firstly, Gilbert should have demanded to know why you'd easily forgive him, and then you'd explain all the long standing reasons that you have which caused you to mistreat him even as you love him, because you were then unaware that you did love him! After that, you should ask Gilbert why he forgave you for all the things you did under the influence of your violent way of showing affection, and then Gilbert should tell you the reasons he likes you and say that despite all the suffering, he still loves you, and only then you should have your confession!" Elizaveta finished her rant with an exaggerated flourish of her hand.

"Merda, that's a tiring process," Lovino was first to comment, rolling his eyes as he said so.

"Exactly. See some sense, Elizaveta!" Gilbert added, glad to have someone who voiced the same opinion he had.

"Perhaps it would be better if we allow her a more satisfying end, da?" Ivan suggested.

"Like what?" The Southern Italian questioned, even as Elizaveta nodded eagerly.

The Russian's smile grew, plucking the hybrid tea rose out of Gilbert's pocket. "You have forgiven me although I was a monster, da? So it is only normal that I forgive you in turn. No matter what has happened, Gilbert, I still love you." Making his declaration without hesitation, Ivan leant down and kissed Gilbert. The albino was too bewildered to react, standing still to the kiss but it wasn't long before he had his arms around Ivan's neck and he was kissing back twice as hard.

Elizaveta was already snapping away with her handy portable camera, squealing with unbridled joy. Ludwig looked a little embarrassed to be there, but the worst reaction came from Lovino. The Italian stared with his jaw slack. Ludwig was certain profanities would fly out the moment Lovino regained his mental facilities. Instead, the Southern half looked completely horrified and yelled, "Chigi---! They're desecrating my house!!!"

And promptly passed out. Feliciano let out a distressed sound and caught his brother. "Ve, fratello?! Fratello?! Oh...Ludwig, they've broken mio fratello!"

The blonde resisted smacking his head onto the closest hard surface. He picked Lovino up and wound an arm around Feliciano's waist, ushering him to the door. "It's best if we left them alone for a while, Feliciano. And we have to make sure your brother doesn't go insane when he wakes up."

"Ve, can we have ravioli for dinner today~?"

"Of course...I'll make up the guest room. I think your brother will be staying with us tonight."

"Ludwig, fratello will soon be your fratello too, so it's alright to call him your brother!"

"I don't think he'll be happy with that..."

And the day continued to be a fine, sunny one.

---

OMAKE

The psychiatrist sighed. He was government-assigned, seeing that it was normally absurd to have the people of the nation know that the very living piece of their land walked among them. Their nation personifications were government secrets, though they have human identities to camouflage amongst their citizens. Right now, he was conducting a usual appointment with his client.

"Ah...So will today's topic concern Signore Carriedo again?"

His client was haphazardly draped on the reclining sofa, letting out a groan of misery. "No, it doesn't. It concerns my inability to befriend normal people."

The psychiatrist nodded sympathetically. "Perhaps it would be rude of me to say so, but it is hard to view nation personifications as normal people."

"...You know what, you're right. I'm not saying that they're all abnormal, but the ones on this continent are mostly crazy. I swear..."

"Too much, Signore Vargas."

Lovino glared at his psychiatrist for interrupting. He had the grace to look embarrassed and shook his head apologetically. "Ah, forgive me. Please continue."

"I mean, look at Art...I mean Master England. His cooking can't be called cooking, and he's completely obsessed with his ex-colony America! Then there's Antonio, that idiot who can't ever read the atmosphere! There can't be anyone possibly that dense! Plus France, who attacks anything that moves! Switzerland calls himself neutral but he's too trigger-happy! Hungary is another! I think she's becoming a stalker!"

Lovino's psychiatrist almost sighed, if not for how unprofessional it would make him look. He was used to such expressions of frustration from his client. Looking at his unhealthy history of dancing mania, bed wetting and abrupt crying, it was easy to understand why Lovino needed regular counselling. Lovino's usually repressed emotions did not help at all with the situation. His client's personality of holding all his feelings about everything inside made it very easy for him to succumb to stress-related illnesses.

This was why he allowed Lovino to rant as much as he wanted, since it would help his client de-stress. Otherwise, Lovino would develop some form of illness for a way to reduce stress! During rants, his client usually mentioned all countries by their name, but only the country of Spain would be mentioned by his human name. It was another habit of the South Italy not to speak of other nations to humans by their human names, with Spain being an obvious exception.

"Yes, I believe we still have to work on curing you of the trauma caused by Signore England's food. As for Signore Carriedo, you should start facing him with expectations of him being unable to read the atmosphere. Hoping that he can while everyday actions show that he can't is simply masochistic, Signore Vargas."

"And you're rather dry today..."

The psychiatrist smiled sheepishly. He merely felt annoyed on the behalf of his nation at the clueless country of Spain. "Aah...Moving on to Signore France...Well, he IS France. I certainly doubt any of his...interest in intimate contact shall diminish any time soon. It's best to avoid contact, or if it does happen, ignore it. Such individuals only seek to derive pleasure from your reactions, so if you do not react, they'll become bored and stop such provocating actions toward you. As for Signore Switzerland, I believe you should spend more time with him so that he can recognize that you are South Italy, instead of the North Italy who almost regularly streaks before his home."

Lovino raised an eye warily at the suggestion. "...I'll give it a shot..."

"And so, the official matter. If not for Signore Carriedo, what is the matter today?"

Lovino almost burst into tears when he was reminded of why he was here.

---

Homigosh!! This is the longest oneshot I've ever written!!

One thing to point out! I state here that Natalya views Gilbert as an enemy (of love XD) because in Gilbert's pseudo-blog on the official site, unlike the one in the radio drama where it was Russia who rejoiced at Gilbert's 'death' at the hands of Arthur's cooking, it was in fact, BELARUS who rejoiced at Gilbert's 'death', replying by telling people to start writing their epitaph for him. Remember when Gilbert posted a reply saying he wasn't dead? Belarus' reply to that was, "Damn, so it (Arthur's cooking) failed (to kill Gilbert)." For me, a fan IvanxGil, I view this as Belarus trying to eliminate a love rival. IvanxGil is SO canon. XD But that's just me. Oh, just for the curious, I don't see either one as the definitive dominant.

EDIT: D: I just realized that there are parts where the sentences ended indefinitely! So I've corrected them for a hopefully smoother read. And for people who don't read the Hetalia comic, Lovino really did have a case of dancing mania, bed wetting and abrupt crying. Poor child, he's suffered so much stress. xD And I heard that potato wine really tastes like vodka!

Plus, it's pretty obvious that I like NotCrazy!Russia. :D The mangaka stated at some point that Russia is unaware of his childlike cruelty, so I believe that Russia is very pure, thus he is quite the ID person. If you want to understand this, check out Sigmund Freud's theory on id, ego and superego. Russia can be very innocent as well, if you don't notice from my fic's depiction of him. XD Please review? It'll be used to pay Romano's counselling fees!