"Italy, come! You have to meet someone," Austria commanded the young nation. Italy nodded obediently, his cute curl bouncing up and down. He scurried after the young master of the household as quickly as his short legs could carry him while he wore the feminine shoes he still wasn't quite used to.
"Uh, Mr Austria?" Italy squeaked. "Is there much further to go? I haven't had a siesta yet, and I'm hungry, and-"
"Be quiet, Italy!" Austria snapped. "We must have taken a wrong turn..." He sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "Where's my piano when I need it?"
"Mr Austria, we're right next to the music room," Italy smiled. Austria looked up in surprise, and then grimaced. He led Italy into the large, ornate room, sitting at his piano as usual. Italy looked around for any signs of someone he was supposed to meet. "Are we meeting the person here, Mr Austria?" Italy wondered aloud. Austria nodded, before starting to play a classical piece.
Italy sat quietly and listened to the music flowing from Austria's nimble fingertips. The dark notes and minor chords filled the room with apprehension, and fear. The small Italian fidgeted a little; the music made him nervous.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Italy jumped. Hungary stood at the door smiling softly. The grim music ceased.
"Yes, Hungary?" Austria asked. His voice had softened since he had spoken to Italy. A light blush dusted the girls cheeks.
"You have a visitor, Mr Austria," she replied. Austria's brows came together.
"Is it our expected visitor, or is he back?" He grumbled.
"The former." Austria nodded.
"Very well, you may be excused, Hungary." She left, and Austria approached the door, engaging in light conversation with the guest.
Italy craned his neck to see the mystery person. Whoever it was, they were small, because Austria was looking down. Was it Romano? Italy smiled with a small "ve" at the thought of being reunited with his fratello. Austria was startled at the noise; he had forgotten about Italy! The young boy was still perched upon his chair, kicking his legs and making strange, cheerful noises. What a disappointment he was...
"Italy," he called, catching Italy's attention. "I'd like you to come over here, there's someone you should meet." Italy snapped out of his little trance, and hopped of his chair to toddle over to Austria. The boy was the same height as Romano, and he blushed like Romano... But it wasn't the other Italian. The stern blue eyed nation held a small hand out, which Italy shook hesitantly. He had a firm handshake.
"I'm the Heiliges Römisches Reich; the Holy Roman Empire, your new master." He said. His voice had a strong, commanding air to it.
"I'm Italy Veneciano, Mister Holy Roma sir." Italy introduced himself, a little intimidated. The nation nodded, and welcomed the young Italian to his empire.
Italy smiled as he thought of the Holy Roman Empire. He still waited for him... How would he feel, to learn Italy was not a girl? But, Hungary had told him that he had died... Italy sighed, and shifted around in the cramped little box. It hurt to be hunched over like this, and the was no pasta... A voice! Italy sat as still, and as silent as he could. All was quiet. Had the person gone? No! He heard footstep! He had to think of something fast...
"D-don't mind me, I'm just a tomato box fairy!" He yelled. There was silence. 'Good,' Italy thought. 'It wor- Oh no, they're checking!' He looked up, eyes wide with fear to see... A tall, stern looking nation, with blonde hair, and icy blue eyes? "W-who are you?" Italy choked through his tears.
"Germany," the mysterious nation answered in a gruff voice. "Are you Italy?" he wondered. The small brunette nodded. "But, you are a descendant of the great Rome?" Italy grinned widely and frantically nodded.
"Ve, you know Grandpa Rome?" Germany frowned.
"Not personally, but I know of his legend... I have orders to bring you to my house." Italy giggled.
"Ok, we can be friends!"
"No, Italien, it is not like that." But Italy didn't care. He grabbed Germanys hand and followed him to his home.
Germany felt a headache approaching.
Italy felt he knew his new friend from long ago.