You are Cute

Hello everyone ^^ I decided to write a DetectiveConan/Hetalia crossover. I'm sort of new to the Hetalia Fandom so I hope this will be satisfactory.

Warning: Language and surprisingly dark turns because of WWII thoughts. Romano's mind is a constant downward spiral.

EDIT: 2/17- Why is it whenever I go back to edit old stories, I add an extra 4k of angst in addition to improved writing...and for once it's Romano angst, not Kid angst!

"Tch, stupid Veneziano." Romano cursed under his breath as a dozen officers brushed past him in a hurry. He fell back, leaning against the wall. "Why the hell do I have to be here?" He rolled his eyes, watching his brother run around the museum halls, his steps light and happy. Veneziano seemed to be treating this like some field trip, bouncing from exhibit to exhibit, letting out awed gasps at each painting. As if the dumbass hadn't been to the ribbon ceremony as well when the museum first opened.

"Fratello, Kid's letter was addressed to the museum. We both have jurisdiction over this one!" Veneziano twirled on his feet, sliding himself next to Romano with a smile. He leaned over to rest his head on Romano's shoulder, and they both watched the Italian officers attempt to converse with the Japanese ones to no avail.

"This is such a fucking mess. They don't even know how to communicate." Romano sighed, tilting his head until his cheeks brushed against Veneziano's auburn curls. It wasn't often that the two got to spend time just standing together. The entire week had been filled with meetings with the police, and international crime affairs were always a pain in the ass to deal with. He was dead on his feet, and he knew Veneziano felt the same.

"Ve, fratello but isn't this exciting? Kid's never stolen from us before!"

Romano scowled at his brother's smiling face, and but didn't push him away.

"Of course not, Vene. The only thing I'll give him props for is dyeing potato-head's hair pink that one time." He crossed his arms with a huff. "He's a fucking thief coming to steal the 'Hazel Dream' in fifteen minutes. That one's your favorite, isn't it?" He gestured towards the alexandrite necklace on display, and Veneziano beamed.

"Si, I love how it changes color in different lights!"

"Then, wouldn't it suck if Kid stole the thing?" Romano sighed, rubbing at this eyes.

"Ve it would...but Japan said that Kaitou Kid is a really interesting guy! Big brother France said so too."

"Who cares about what they say? A thief is a thief, dumbass!"

"Ve..." Veneziano hummed softly, and Romano bit his lips before sighing. He bumped his forehead against Veneziano's in a silent apology.

"Tired?" He mumbled, closing his eyes.

"Ve, a little bit. It's been a long week. I didn't even get to have my daily siestas." Veneziano complained with a slight pout, and Romano scoffed.

"Same here, this heist shit's so fucking annoying. I can't wait to get this over with."

"Ve, then we can have dinner si? I want to have pasta with fratello. We haven't done anything nice together in a while." At that, Romano jumped a bit.

"Y-yeah? You don't mind having pasta with me?" He stammered out, trying to keep the hopeful tone out of his voice, and Veneziano smiled.

"Si, there's a lot of nice places around here. We should go to-"

"Italia-kun!"

The two flinched, startled. Veneziano turned his head, and smiled at the Japanese man walking towards him. He lifted his head off Romano's shoulders, waving wildly.

"Japan! You came! Ciao ciao!" He cheered, and the Asian man bowed politely to both Italian brothers.

"Yes, Kid is from my country after all….please excuse me for the inconvenience. We've been trying very hard for nearly two decades to catch him. I'm really sorry for troubling you two." He frowned apologetically, and Romano waved a hand to dismiss the other nation's worries. Veneziano just smiled.

"It's okay Japan! It's not your fault. Kid sounds really cool! Do you always go to his heists?" Veneziano patted him on the back, earning a wince from Japan.

"Ah. I usually see them on television. They tend to get really crowded. I'm surprised his fans didn't come all the way here to see. Though I suppose that's a plus. It'd be easier to catch him."

"Well, they're definitely missing out! Our place is pretty nice, ve?" Veneziano grinned, leaning to bump shoulders with Romano, who smiled smugly in agreement.

"Hey, hey. I wonder what happens if he gets caught. Do we get to keep him? Or do you, Japan?" The Northern Italy pondered quietly.

"Ahh, I do understand your concerns. He is an international criminal, so it might end up being Interpol's decision." Japan offered his opinion, before gasping softly. "By the way, have you seen Germany-san around?" He asked, and Romano started.

"What? Why would that asshole be here?" Romano scowled, earning a few glances toward his direction. The letter was sent to Italy, there should be no reason for the German to swing by.

"Fratello, I told you last week. Don't you remember?" Veneziano frowned, poking Romano's cheeks. The older brother swatted his hand away, annoyed.

"Bullshit..." He muttered, glaring at his boots.

"Ah, yes. He said he was worried for Ita-...Veneziano-kun because Kid hasn't appeared internationally since ten years ago." Japan added.

"Ve, I remember!" Veneziano nodded. "He first appeared at Big Brother France's place. I remember Francia talking on and on about him." Veneziano said thoughtfully, and Romano muttered under his breath.

"Yes, he hasn't done international heists at all these past two years. Which is a bit strange." Japan blinked when he saw someone. "Ah, over there is Nakamori Ginzo-san. He's the man in charge of the Kaitou Kid task-force. He…has a bit of a temper, so please excuse him." Japan gestured to the mustached man yelling loudly into a radio, with many task force men in blue uniforms trailing after him like lost puppies. The Italian police force tried their best to get into some sort of formation, but they didn't have a good enough grasp on Kid's modus operandi to make any effective plans. Nakamori had attempted to explain to them with the help of interpreters. However, the police force really wasn't convinced. Confetti and slime? What kind of joke were they trying to pull?

"Ve~ he can't be as bad as fratello." Veneziano teased, nudging Romano in the ribs.

"What was that, Vene?" Romano deadpanned in return, his lips curling the slightest bit upwards as he squeezed Veneziano's cheeks.

"Nothing nothing, ve!" The younger Italian protested, and Japan watched the familial interaction with a small smile of his own.

"Well, please excuse me for the moment. I'm going to get out of the police's way. I'm too old to be running around Kid's heists like this." Japan sighed mournfully, rubbing at his back. "I'll see you two after the heist then?"

"Alright then, see you later Japan!" Veneziano smiled, and Romano gave him a wave before Japan left the halls.

"Ve~ we should get going too, Romano! I don't want to miss this!"

"Tch, I go whenever I want too, idiot. And don't forget what I told you about thieves-"

"Italy!" The two turned again, and Romano's scowl immediately deepened.

"Germany!" The Northern Italian pushed away from the wall, and Romano immediately missed the warmth. Veneziano greeted the blonde man with a grin, and Romano narrowed his eyes, turning away without greeting the German.

"Ja...hello to you both." Germany sighed, patting Veneziano on the shoulder, and nodding to Romano.

"The thief is going to arrive in ten minutes. We should get out of the police's way." Germany glanced down at his watch. Kaitou Kid had been inactive for almost a decade. When he first heard of the news about his return two years ago, he had been skeptical. Most of the websites had been in Japanese, with pictures too blurry to make out Kid's face. Germany remembered the thief stealing from a mansion in his home nearly two decades ago. It had been a night of chaos and humiliation that Germany was keen on forgetting. Kid was an excellent thief, he had to admit. Even with all his centuries of military training, he hadn't been able to catch up with Kid. Instead he ended up going to a World Meeting with pink hair that stayed for nearly a month. The amount of taunting and hidden snickers was enough for him, and he never want to experience that EVER AGAIN. Prussia still hasn't let him live it down; Italy's older brother hadn't made it any easier either. "He's a very difficult target to catch, so we must be on guard."

"I didn't need you to tell me that, crucco." Romano snapped, and Veneziano gave him a pleading look as he hissed, "Romano, per favore". Romano stiffened, and didn't meet Veneziano's gaze.

"Ve~ Germany, pasta now sounds good, si?" Veneziano turned back to the Germany with a weak smile and tugged on his sleeve. The German sighed, and pinched the bridged of his nose irritably.

"Italy, you just ate pasta an hour ago!" He scolded, but didn't pull away.

Romano swallowed loudly, rubbing at his neck. "Well, I do know a good ristorante a few blocks away from here so-" He began, but Veneziano cut him off.

"Ve Germany! After the heist, let's get something to eat, okay? There's some nice places around here, I'll show you around!"

Romano stopped, his hands shaking as he stared at Veneziano with wide eyes. His lips curled into a snarl, moving forward to separate the two as he moved past them.

"You two are so annoying, damn it." He forced his voice to stay low and steady, looking back to give them a glare. "I'm going ahead. Don't you dare try anything funny, you bastards." Romano stalked towards the room exit before they could say anything, giving Germany the finger as he left.

"Seriously, can't those two take a hint? Idiots." Romano muttered to himself as he walked, read: stomped down the halls. He thought he was being obvious that he wasn't pleased with his brother and the potato bastard getting so close, and yet stupid Veneziano clings to the bastard like some pathetic cat. The hell was Veneziano inviting Germany to dinner for? Did he already forget about making plans with Romano?

Or maybe it's because he would rather hang out with the Germany than with you. Romano's steps faltered for a moment as his mind whispered. I wouldn't blame him. His thoughts hissed. After all, you're an asshole. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. That's bullshit, it's not true. His pace quickened. It made no sense. He didn't understand why Veneziano was still so attached. He was Veneziano's brother. He should be the one Veneziano should be counting on. He should be the one Veneziano tells secrets to. He should be the one that Veneziano should laugh and have fun with. Yet, it never is. Anytime they get a moment alone, it'd be interrupted.

Even worse, it'd be interrupted by Veneziano's mention of Germany. Why? What was so special about the German that changed Veneziano so much? That twisted Vene's naive mind enough for him to believe every damn thing Germany said? What had Germany done that made Veneziano allow their country-turned monster to support another monster those many years ago? And why had Romano agreed? Because you'd do anything for Veneziano. Yes that was the only reason, wasn't it? Even before Germany had entered the picture, he had listened to Veneziano. He had rolled over for Il Duce like some obedient brainwashed pup, hanging on to his every word without question. Because Veneziano had said the man would make them great. He would make them the glorious Roman Empire again. And Romano had listened.

Even though Veneziano had chosen the potato bastard back then with harsh consequences, Romano knew he'd do it again without hesitation. Why? Why are they still so close? Why is Veneziano still choosing Germany over Romano?

"Damn it!" He stopped, and kicked the wall hard. His boots made a loud thumping sound against it, and the hallway echoed with his heavy breathing. He reached up to grasp at his dark curls, his teeth clenched as he trembled.

"Stupid Veneziano, stupid Germany, stupid Kaitou Kid!" He cursed, leaning against the wall with a snarl. If it weren't for the thief, he wouldn't have to be here, he wouldn't have had to face the truth directly. He was just so exhausted.

He must've wandered further than he had originally planned, he noticed when he finally calmed down. The unfamiliar hallways were dark, and he squinted up at the signs.

"Great, just fucking great." He growled, and leaned against a closed door. He sighed, feeling his jaws ache from keeping them clenched so tightly. Maybe he should just skip out on the heist. It's not like anyone would notice or care anyways. It would be alright if Veneziano was there, that's all that matters to them.

That was when a loud crash, and a lot of yelling was heard.

The heist had begun.

Kid grinned to himself from the ventilation shaft. He could feel the excitement bubbling inside of him. This was going to be his first international heist. He had finally saved enough money for the trip. Apparently, people were getting suspicious about him not being the first Kaitou Kid since he never performed a heist outside of Japan in the two years of his revival. He couldn't let that happen, now could he? After constantly reassuring Jii, the man had agreed to stay behind at the hotel room. It would've been too easy to spot the older Japanese man in the crowd of Europeans.

"Hmmm, ah Nakamori-keibu came! He really came all the way to Italy! That's dedication." He mused quietly as he watched the inspector walk in through the museum entrance. Kid's gaze travelled around, taking in the number of officers. Nakamori had only brought a handful of his own officers since tickets were expensive, but he had brought his most experienced. The thief wasn't too worried about the Italian task force. His dad had not stolen in Italy before, so the officers had never experienced the chaos that accompanies a Kid heist. And boy, were they in for a treat, he hummed with a giggle.

He turned his head, and spotted a tall blonde man with a stern face scanning his surroundings with the precision of a soldier. Judging from his looks, he must be German. But it was strange. He wasn't wearing a police uniform, yet Kid couldn't place him as a civilian. No one was asking the man to leave either. Was he some sort of VIP? Kid hadn't seen his face on the files about the museum owners.

"A thief's a thief, dumbass!"

He frowned, pondering the foreign words. He had brushed up on enough Italian to help him get around the cities, but this vocabulary was unfamiliar. However, he knew they weren't all that friendly. Turning his head, he squinted down. Two young men stood a few meters away. Like the German, they were not wearing uniforms, and looked like civilians. Who were all these extra people?

He studied them critically. Both of them looked rather young. Their clothes were stylish, and Kid could appreciate a nice face when he saw it. They were both very handsome, and could pass as twins, really. However, the one with auburn hair looked a bit younger and less mature, his cheeks round and filled. He was bouncing around without a care in the world. The other was completely different. Unlike his (assumed) brother, everything about this Italian was sharp lines, complemented with high cheekbones. He had the same hairstyle, complete with a strange looking curl that stuck out a bit unnaturally. But the one with darker hair seemed to have that frown permanently etched on his face. He watched the way they conducted themselves. Although he couldn't understand their words, he watched the way they leaned into each other, hair and cheeks touching as if melding into one, without any discomfort. It was a bit breathtaking to watch these two beautiful creatures, arranged like artwork that belonged in the museum. Kid couldn't stop himself from staring.

There was a Japanese man who approached them timidly, and they started conversing in English about the heist. The magician raised an eyebrow. But again, they didn't seem like police officers of any sort. The German at least looked like some general from war but these two really did looked like civilians, albeit handsome enough to pass as models. But they must be important since all the Italian police officers regarded them with respect. And who the hell was this Japanese guy? He's never seen him around before, yet, Nakamori didn't even bat an eyelash at his appearance.

Kid blinked, and focused back on the inspector as he ordered all the officers to get in formation. The Japanese man moved to the sidelines after bidding the two goodbye.

The German then walked over to the younger Italian and greeted him. The younger brother smiled, and began to talk rapidly in English. Kid couldn't follow it at all. Simple phrases maybe, but five hundred words per minute, no. He shifting silently, and turned to the older Italian brother, who was standing to the side with a scowl on his face, glare zeroed in on the German. Kid turned back to the younger one. His hands were waving excitedly, his eyes only on the German, cheeks a bit rosy. The German was trying to stay composed, but Kid could see the light dusting of red on those pale cheeks as well. He looked back to the older Italian. Ahh...he smiled sympathetically. Family.

He watched the three a bit longer. The older brother was quickly ignored as the younger one continued inching closer to the German. Kid watched a flurry of emotion flash across the elder's face, hurt being the most apparent before it was replaced with only anger. The older one stormed away down the hall, leaving the younger brother and the German behind. Kid's gaze lingered on the retreating man's back before turning back to the scene before him. After a few minutes of aimless chatter from the younger Italian, and multiple face palms from the German. Those two got into position as well, eyes trained on the alexandrite necklace.

"Well, time to get to work." Kid whispered to himself and tugged at his top hat.

"It's show time."

/

/

"Get back here, Kid!" Nakamori bellowed, and Kid laughed, running faster.

"Aufhalten! I'm not letting you get away this time, Kaitou Kid!" He heard the German yell, and frowned slightly. This time? He has never seen this man in his life before. Maybe the German chased his dad? But that couldn't be possible. His dad was in his forties when he was killed. This man looked no older than twenty years old, despite his large build. And holy hell was the man fast.

"Ve~! Germany, wait up!" He heard the younger Italian panting hard, trying to catch up with the stronger German. And why were they chasing him too? They definitely weren't officers. Also, did he just call the blonde man Germany? The police officers had already lost track of him, hindered by the traps. He recalled seeing the fear in the Italian police's eyes, truly understanding the mess that came with a Kaitou Kid heist. The German had avoided each and every trap, grabbing the Italian by the shoulder to steer him away from them as well. They were the only ones left chasing him. But they were the ones that worried Kid the most. Every time he looked back he could see the glint in the German's calculating blue eyes, causing him to shiver and run a bit faster. His planned exit was still a few corridors down. He just had to make it there quicker, and the German definitely knew what he was planning.

"Tch. Italy! England's here!" He heard the German yell back at the Italian. Kid almost tripped in confusion. Italy? England? What the hell were they talking about? What did that have to do with anything? Well, it must have meant something because a second later, the Italian started bawling.

"Ve!? Mr. England is here? Nooooo! Why? We're not fighting with him right now, are we? I don't want to taste his scones! They taste funny! Ve!" The Italian cried out, and suddenly Kid felt a shift in the air. He looked back, and nearly took a double take. The Italian had just run past the German, leaving a comical trail of dust behind. He was also getting closer and closer by the second. What the actual fuck?!

"That's it, Italy! Get Kid before England gets you!" The German was smirking now, and Kid nearly yelped. He put more strength into his legs, nearly stumbling as he ran harder.

What the hell is going on? Kid thought in panic and willed himself to move faster. The way these two move seemed superhuman, and he could see the difference between them clearly.

"Veee, I don't want Mr. England to get me!" The Italian was only a few meters away from the thief now. He'd get caught before he reached the balcony.

Without much thought, Kid quickly turned a corner, opposite of the way he should've gone. He was pretty sure there was a closet around here somewhere. Well as they always say, if you can't outrun them, hide in a closet.

Except there was someone in front of the closet. The thief gulped silently, and glanced back. The Italian must have stumbled because there was no one following him at the moment but he could hear their thundering footsteps, and knew they would catch up soon. And he really needed to hide. So he did the next thing he could think of.

Kid grabbed the person, and yanked them into the closet with him, locking it as he did. He didn't want to risk leaving this person out there where they could easily tell everyone his hiding spot.

"Hey?! What the fuck are you doing, you basta-"He slammed his hand against the person's mouth, muffling any other noise. He wheezed when an elbow caught the side of his ribs and a boot glanced against his shins. Fuck, he's got a fighter. He couldn't even use gas right now; it would seep through the door crack and they'd see it. He pressed forward aggressively, slamming the person against the wall hard, his other hand reaching up to press his card gun against their neck. Obviously it wasn't a gun that would shoot lead bullets, but they didn't know that. To his relief, the person beneath him stiffened and stopped moving. Large green eyes stared into his lilac ones, and a second later Kid realized that the person was the older Italian brother.

"Don't move." He whispered to the Italian, pressing the gun a bit harder. The Italian blinked, narrowing his eyes. They both stilled when they heard shuffling.

"Ve, I lost him Germany. Will Mr. England give me his scones now? They're disgusting." The younger Italian's voice was heard through the door, and the older one tensed before bucking against Kid's hold, legs kicking out in an attempt to hit the door. Kid held his surprise in, and tightened his grip, pulling the Italian further away from the door. He had a gun pressed against his neck and he was still fighting?

"Keep running, he couldn't have gotten far, Italy. There's another hallway around the corner! It leads to the veranda!"

"Si!" Two pairs of feet came running by the closet door, and after a few seconds there was only the sound of Kid and the Italian's rough breathing.

"!-Ow!" Kid hissed when the Italian bit down on his gloved hand. He pulled away, bringing the hand to his chest. The Italian pushed out of his weakened hold and slammed into the door, cursing under his breath when he found it locked.

"It locks from the outside. I'm the only one who can open it, but I'm afraid I can't let you leave." Kid spoke in English, recovering from the attack with a forced smile on his face. The Italian turned to glare at him.

"What the fuck do you want, you bastard?" He snarled. Damn, was he a testy one. Kid took a second to recollect before speaking as well.

"Tsk, tsk, you're worse than the inspector." He smirked and the Italian scowled.

"I don't give a shit, let me out." He demanded.

"Nope." He grinned, and the Italian cursed again. He was obviously nervous, trying to hide it under an angry mask. Kid could tell by the way he bit his lips and fiddled with the cuffs on his sleeves.

"So, may I know your name, Italian?"

The man turned to him again with a frown.

"Why the hell should I tell you?" He flinched when Kid walked closer to him and slammed his arms onto the door, crowding him.

"Mr. Italian, you're the one trapped in a closet with me. And by the end of this heist, you'll be all alone here at my mercy." Kid was barely able to suppress his own shivers as the words left his mouth. "I'm the one with the advantage here. What is your name?" Kid tried in a colder voice, hoping this will make the Italian talk. He wasn't really going to do anything like that, but all that talk of Italy and Germany had him curious.

This close, he got a full view of the Italian's face, and he could practically see the gears turning. Kid kept his pokerface in place, but he was starting to get disconcerted. Those blazing emeralds were boring into his eyes, and he wasn't seeing any hint that the intimidation had worked.

He blinked when the Italian let out a snort before he moved back, posture relaxing a bit.

"You're centuries too young to be threatening me, brat." The Italian had the audacity to smirk, tilting his head up in such a manner, it seemed that he was staring down at Kid, even though the thief was centimeters taller. Kid blinked again, staring at the man incredulously. Centuries? The Italian didn't look that much older than himself. And he was already 19; was there really that much of an age difference? He couldn't really focus. The Italian's neck was bared when he threw his head back, and the only thing Kid could see was the way the Italian's olive skin seemed to glisten, his collarbone pronounced and...

"Nice..." The words left his mouth before he could stop himself, and the Italian's manner immediately changed.

"Excuse me?" The Italian's voice shook, and Kid started as well. Fuck, he hadn't meant to say that out loud. Well, that was just embarrassing. He looked up at the man's face with a calculating gaze. Then, he smiled. If intimidation wasn't going to work, then this just might.

"You're really beautiful. Are you a model?" He smiled widely, and preened inwardly when he watched the Italian's emotion rush across his face. It was working.

"I-idiot." He hissed. "You...you..." He was blinking rapidly, looking away. "A-at least you have good eyes, bastard." He managed to stutter out, rubbing at his neck.

"Does the model have a name?" Kid tried again, and the Italian stiffened, rolling his eyes.

"Flattery's not going to get you anywhere, you piece of shit." He growled back.

"Hmm, well it says here," Kid backed away, twirling a card around his fingers. He glanced down, "Your name is Romano-"

"Hey! What the fuck?!"

The ID was swiped from Kid's hands before he could read on, "Hey-ow!" He yelped, hopping on one foot when the Italian stomped on the other.

"I wasn't done!" He pouted when the Italian gave him the finger, shoving the ID into an inner pocket, turning his body away from the thief.

"Asshole, what the fuck?"

"Well, I mean, I am a thief. It's kinda natural-"

"It's an invasion of privacy!"

"Well...thief." He ended rather lamely but the Italian just snarled like an attack dog. This wasn't going as well as he thought it would.

"So...Romano huh?...Romano..." Kid rolled the name on his tongue experimentally, watching the other man tense up. "Romano."

"Stop saying it." Romano snarled, standing up straight. "You're just some thief...where's the Hazel Dream?" He asked after a pause, and Kid pulled the necklace out with a flourish and grin. Immediately, the Italian's expression soured even more.

"You're not leaving with that." His voice only held determination and certainty, and Kid felt something spark inside his chest. A feeling he usually gets when one of his detectives are chasing after his cape. Excitement.

"Hmm..." Kid hummed, "We'll see...say, is your name really Romano?" That seemed to throw the Italian off guard, and he blinked in confusion.

"Damn straight it is, you bastard."

"No way, I saw more on that ID. Romano's just a nickname, right? I don't believe you~ It started with an L, so-"

"Believe what you want, I don't fucking care what you think. Damn, you're starting to sound like Spain-" Romano froze, realizing his mistake and Kid raised an eyebrow. There it was again. The use of nations like regular names.

"Spain?" He voiced his curiosities, and the Italian turned away with an irritated growl.

"Mr. Romano?"

"What?"

"Who…are you really?"

Romano froze at the thief's question. What should he say? If he told, his boss would surely kill him if the rest of the world didn't get to him first. Well...it wasn't really a secret, they just never felt the need to parade the information around. It was much easier to just blend in, watching their people along the flow of time. Yet in dire situations, the people-his people, just seemed to know. They followed him without question on the rare occasions he felt the need to lead. And back in the 1940s, there were plenty of reasons for him step forward to pull their country out of the mess Veneziano had facilitated (that Romano had allowed).

Of course nowadays, none of them would be dumb enough to openly admit to being what they are. Especially not to a human of a different nationality. Then he thought back to the way Veneziano had yelled out Germany, and the way Germany had yelled out Italy, without a care. He groaned inwardly.

"You won't believe me, so it doesn't even matter." He rubbed at his face tiredly. For fuck sake, he just wanted to go home.

He peeked out from between his fingers, glaring at the thief. The Kaitou Kid...his gaze trailed up and down. The thief was also giving him a quick appraisal, his eyes blinking wide and innocent. His suit was a bit ill-fitted, Romano noticed disapprovingly. He and Veneziano always did have an eye for fashion and beautiful things. And he had to admit, the Kaitou Kid wasn't bad to look at. It was difficult to see in the dark lighting, but he saw that the suit was doing the thief no justice, hiding his figure at all the wrong places. He knew Kid's body should be much thinner and more lanky, but the suit made him seem bulkier and...older? Perhaps it's on purpose then?

If he thought a bit harder, it does make sense; Romano mused. The Kaitou Kid had disappeared for eight years before making a revival. Such a hiatus usually only had one reason. This new thief couldn't possibly be the same one.

Kid's face still held childish curves, like an adult finally emerging from the teenage phase; Romano was suddenly reminded of Veneziano and America. He knew what makeup looked like, and could see the use of contouring on Kid's cheeks in an attempt to seem older. There's no way the man before him was anywhere near his forties. Because shit, Kid really does looks like some fucking brat playing dress up.

The thief's eyes were a pale violet, shining brightly in contrast to the low lighting. It's a color that he rarely sees in regular humans. They're beautiful, his mind added silently and he flushed, hoping the lights were dim enough to hide it.

As for Kid, he was starting to get unnerved by the way Romano's eyes seemed to dissecting his body inch by inch. No one has ever had the chance to truly stand in front of the Kaitou Kid and analyze. He'd usually be in disguise or gone before anyone's had the chance to realize that the Kaitou Kid's body was one of a nineteen year old barely out of high school.

He cleared his throat, watching the Italian twitch. "Mr. Romano, I am a phantom thief. I've seen my share of strange things, I'm sure your case won't surprise me that much." He said, readying himself for whatever the man might say. He had fought witches, illusionists, and shrinking teenagers. Whoever...or whatever Romano might be, it couldn't be that strange right?

Romano pressed his lips together firmly. This brat just couldn't take no for an answer, and it was honestly frustrating. He glanced back towards the locked door. Veneziano and Germany should be coming back towards him once they realized the thief never made it to the balcony. He had to keep stalling until they did. Then, he'd make a ruckus loud enough to call them here and they'd have the thief surrounded and finally caught. Serves the bastard right for being such a nosy prick. He looked back, staring straight into those unique lilac irises.

"My name is Romano." He said with finality, no hint of hesitation or uncertainty. Because that was who he was. Not Lovino Vargas, but Italy Romano. Out of all the things the Roman Empire had given to Veneziano, he had reserved something priceless for Romano solely. His name- Romanus, native of Rome- and the heart of Italy.

The thief was silent for a moment, eyes scanning the Italian's. He stiffened when Romano stared straight into his without any hint of backing down. They were glowing emeralds, mesmerizing and beautiful. But it was the emotion behind it that sent shivers down Kid's spine. They were the eyes of someone who has seen things- glory, defeat, wars, peace, joy, and horrific tragedies. These eyes did not belong to a young adult. You're centuries too young to be threatening me, brat. He felt cold sweat slide down his neck as he swallowed. Romano. Rome. Named after the Great Roman Empire. Kid could see why.

"That's an amazing name, Romano." Kid said quietly, and Romano took a surprised step back.

"W-what?" He swallowed.

"I said that's a lovely name, Romano. It suits you. " Romano looked up to see Kid smiling at him, and his lips quivered. No one had said anything like that to him in a long time.

Over time, his name has become nothing more than an easy way to make a clear distinction between Veneziano and him. No one ever commented on Veneziano meaning Venezia and Romano meaning Roma. It was never Veneziano and Romano anymore. It wasn't even Northern Italy and Southern Italy. Over time, he had sank further and further into the shadows, constantly surrounded by his anger and thoughts. Now it was always Italy and Romano. Veneziano, the happy country that represented sunshine and joy. Romano, the angry one that attacked without thinking. Romano- the extra personification. The one that didn't seem to have a purpose for existing. One personificaton was enough for one country, right? He and Prussia had fucking field days drowning themselves in bars together, laughing without mirth at the realization of their uselessness.

"Idiot, the one who should exist is Veneziano." He muttered softly, voicing his darker thoughts without meaning to. Kid frowned at the strange choice of words, not liking the way Romano sounded just then.

"Veneziano? Is he your brother?" He asked, moving a bit closer. The Italian didn't even seem to notice. He merely let out a laugh that didn't sound genuine.

"Yeah, my younger brother." Romano reached up to brush his bangs aside. "He's a bit of a crybaby. He's likes to run away whenever trouble happens. He can be pretty stupid sometimes, and it just pisses me off so much when he can't see how shitty that stupid potato head is." He paused, a sad smile on his lips before he brightened up, looking at Kid. "But he's really fucking amazing though. He's a really good painter. He can sing and dance too! He's so talented, he's hella handsome too, and...and..." He looked away. "I'm really proud to be his older brother sometimes."

...

"I think..." Kid began, and Romano started at his voice. The Italian took a step back when he realized how close Kid had gotten. "I think...that you're pretty awesome too!" The thief grinned, looking all the more like some child rather than a suave magician. Romano's cheeks heated up as his eyes widen.

"C-chigi! What the hell are you saying, asshole?" He stammered, pressing himself against the door. Where the hell were Veneziano and Germany?

"Chigi?" Kid blinked, tilting his head with a smile curled on his lips. "That sounds kinda cute. Actually, Mr. Romano, you're pretty adorable!"

Romano froze again. Cute? Romano has been called many things- mean, an asshole, a downer, stupid, loud. Cute by Spain but that idiot thinks anything that moves is cute. But no one else has ever called him cute. It was clearly Veneziano who was cute. Anyone could see that.

"W-what did you just say?" He whispered, flinching back when Kid moved until he was practically pressing their noses together.

"You are cute. Vous êtesmignon. Siesind niedlich. Tu sei carina. Anata ga kawaīdesu….you hear me loud and clear right?" With that the Kid leaned in, pressing his lips against Romano's cheek briefly. Romano's breathing hitched; all he could smell was a whiff of cologne and candy and oddio, he could barely breathe-Then he saw something drop to the floor. Before he could register what it was, his vision filled with sweet scented, pink smoke and he's tilting-

"Woah-!" Kid caught Romano before he could hit the floor, and slowly lowered them both down. He leaned the unconscious man against the wall, letting out a deep exhale once the smoke dissipated. He glanced at the door; the German and Veneziano should be returning soon, so he had to move quick.

He turned back to Romano, a small smile on his face as he reached out cautiously. His gloved hands threaded through the Italian's dark hair, and for a moment, he wanted to take the gloves off and feel each soft strand. He glanced down, staring at the pocket Romano had stuffed his ID into before. His other hand hovered over the pocket...

He quickly retreated, pulling out his cell phone and an index card to scribble something quick in English. After shuffling around a bit, he moved back, staring long and hard at the slumbering Italian. His chest moved slowly, his eyelids flickering every other second; he wouldn't be staying asleep for long. Kid's gaze lingered on the man's lips, his body stilling for a moment before he shook his head furiously.

"Arrivederci." He whispered before picking the door lock, leaving it wide open.

"-tello…fratello! Fratello!"

Romano winced, slowly opening his eyes before immediately shutting them again with a groan. Fuck, everything was too bright and his head was pounding. For a split second, images of smoke and fire accompanied with shrill cries ran through his mind. Children crying, people screaming, bodies falling, Napoli burning-When the flashes cleared, the first thing he saw was Germany's face.

Germany. Crucco. War. Bombings. Enemy.

"!-Merda-" He hissed, backing up with a fist raised and he swung-

"Scheiße-!" Germany hissed and caught his arm before he could make contact. "Schluss damit, Romano, it's me. We are not a war-"

"Vaffanculo, bastard! Don't touch me! I'll kill you! I'll kill-" He snarled, swinging his other arm and kicking his legs. His eyes were unseeing of anything besides the flames licking at his vision.

"Fratello!? Stop, per favore!"

Veneziano's cries caused him to blink, his flailing limbs coming to a halt. Both he and Germany were panting hard, filling the tense silence. He lowered his head, wheezing, chest tight.

"Deep breaths, Romano. Count with me." Germany ordered, and Romano nodded weakly. He followed along with Germany's deep voice, trying to match his erratic breathing to the slower pace. When he could finally breathe properly, he yanked his hand out of the German's grip and looked behind Germany's towering form.

"V-vene?" His voice was trembling when he saw the tears in his brother's eyes.

"Roma, you're awake." Veneziano moved past Germany, collapsing to his knees in order to cup Romano's face in his cold hands. "Grazie o dio, I was so scared." The younger brother hugged him tightly, burying his face in Romano's neck.

"Idiota. Sto bene." He mumbled, letting out an exasperated sigh.

"Ve, Romano. Did he hurt you?" Veneziano pulled away, staring at him. His hazel eyes glinted, an uncharacteristically cold expression in them. Romano shook his head, rolling his eyes before pulling him close again.

"I'm fine, idiota. Stop worrying so much. It doesn't suit you, dumbass." He looked up to meet Germany's stare, and returned it with a glare. However, he did nod briefly, begrudgingly thanking the bastard for watching over Veneziano during the heist...and for pulling him out of his panic attack. Germany let out a sigh of relief and nodded as well.

"Ve, fratello" Veneziano pulled back, frowning down at Romano's chest. "There's a note on your jacket."

"Che?" He looked down and there was indeed an index card attached to his breast pocket. "The fuck?" He yanked it off, pulling out the white rose that was tucked into the pocket as well. His eyes scanned the English words written in a neat scrawl.

Mr. Romano,

I was honored to meet you. I'm really glad you told me your name. It is a beautiful name, and it suits your spirit. Never think you are any less than your brother. Your name is precious, and I will treasure it dearly. Maybe next time we will be able to meet again somewhere else.

Kaitou Kid

P.S. You really are cute in your sleep ;)

He inhaled sharply, his hands trembling as his cheeks grew warmer.

"Ve, fratello! Is it a love letter? You're turning red." Veneziano leaned in to see, but Romano shoved his face away with a scowl.

"T-the Hazel Dream." Germany pointed out helpfully, and Romano looked down to see the alexandrite necklace adorning his neck with another note attached to it.

Regretfully, this is not the jewel I'm looking for. It looks better on someone as beautiful as you anyways :D

Romano growled, tearing up the notes so the curious two will never see its contents.

"It's handsome, you stupid bastard!"

Thanks for reading.

Ahah I haven't taken Italian in six years, please tell me if something's off.

Reviews makes me happy!