Title: My dear Italy
By: Brohas Ludwig
Chapter one: Running man
Ludwig Beilschmidt entitled himself to keeping tidy no matter how small the chore, and stood in his house patiently watching after his old friend. The house needed tidying daily due to the three roommates that stayed there. The four of them together often crossed paths either using their new-found home as a villa.
Germany pondered what was in the Italian man's mind as he gazed over at him through the window. Italy accompanied by the town's stray cat ran up and down the garden front of the villa they all shared. Thankfully all crops around town grew normally. Though it was beginning to worry him since the crops were not as lively in his own back yard. It was almost time for the festival this year, and he was thinking about going. In thought of the extra company within his household and newly found friendship with a couple of his war buds. The only problem with that it was a fair usually meant for couples. Contemplating this idea further, one other came to mind, while keeping an eye on Italy he wondered just what was on his mind running up and down the empty field.
Ludwig mentioned that his garden would soon begin to fail him if his crops had not grown. Italy continued to run up and down the fields shouting.
Germany arched an eyebrow at the strange behavior, but then shrugged it off. This was Feliciano we were talking about, in his late diary he had recorded stranger phenomena.
A cord struck with Ludwig seeing his living room being run down, the idea ran through his mind sitting in the living room littered with laundry. He was on edge and about to jump through the roof.
"Italy!" Ludwing opened the window and called out to the soldier.
"Yes." The hyper active Italian popped out of nowhere.
"Whoo!" That is not until the strong German shrieked in high-pitched terror.
Germany then turned to the strange but raspy voice coming from his kitchen, "Just what is going on in there, if... you are in here?" He then switched his attention from the Italian who grinned up at him with soft eyes, and back over towards the kitchen. When the broad country peeked into his kitchen he froze between the doorway frame.
Ludwig caught the slender figure of his older brother dancing and singing in just his boxers. Though he looked as if he had eaten a bad potato.
"Hello Gilbert, how long have you been here?" Ludwig sighed after some time, given to let it sink in that it was his brother and he often did things more shocking. The act itself would be titled as quoted also in Deutschland's diary, The many acts of my brother's... Awesomeness."
Oh...for the love of herstick, who let him in here like this? Germany mentally face palmed at this.
The Prussian, stopped his sublime ways at the sound of his little brother's voice, snickering with a smirk.
"Long enough brother." Prussia narrowed his eyes at his brother and speaking in a sarcastic tone.
What does that mean I wonder...? Thought Germany as he about faced and backed it into the cherry wood table.
The over worked drill instructor peered over at his sink full of dishes. The marble tile floors of his new kitchen were now grimy and muddy. What really put the test to his patients was the real sight of muddy tracks in his kitchen.
"What is all this?" Ludwig smacked his forehead in aggregation. He pointed a gloved finger at the rubber boots of the soldier they belonged to.
Feliciano, smiled trying to bear the anger in the voice of the heated drill Sargent.
"Um... Wait Ludi, it's not all bad, we'll fix it!" Cracked the voice of the Italian man as he voluntarily pulled the other German-speaking nation, into conversation.
"Sure, what he said...wait a second, what?" Gilbert poured himself a rather large bowel of generically branded puffs. As he poured the milk placing the silver spoon in his brunch. Gilbert lifted the generically branded nugget crunch, to his mouth chewing in slow circles. The sweep of a dire realization, rose upon the Prussian's face. He just agreed to help Italy with house hold chores. His upper lipped curled in anger and his eyes lost all color.
"Yeah, we can help out your brother around the house!" Feliciano chirped.
Germany glared at his brother and crossed arms sitting across the kitchen table.
"Pft, fine, I mean... it is a simple task for me, ...Prussia!"
"Ja, just clean up mein house!" Ludwig held the temples of his forehead as a headache forged.
Prussia, darted a dark glare toward his cleaning buddy and smiled back at his brother.
"Hmph, Brohas where do you keep the house cleaners?" Prussia asked almost mockingly trying to get the chore done before the other.
"The supply is in the broom closet." Germany pointed his thumb in the direction between the kitchen and the living room.
Prussia, slipped on a pair of jeans along with his uniform shirt, and dragged Italy towards the closet. While there they came across a tall wooden door. They turn the golden knob finding the tiny storage almost filled with memorabilia and organized cleaning products.
There were two shelves displayed upon the walls on either side. Towards the back on the floor where tons of old masks, goggles, boots, canisters, canteen, and helmets. All from the old wars long past. As promised in front of the closet indeed were the cleaning products. In line from left to right was a bucket of all-purpose cleaners tapped in bottles, small towels, a mop, a tall broom, and a mysterious black box.
Though both Italy and Prussia seen the cleaning products, they also happen to see the large black gift box wrapped with a golden ribbon on top, called them to open it.