Prologue;;

Feliciano placed the leather hat on his head with a soft sigh, the large feather sticking out of the top drooping in front of his brown eye. His lips curled into a devious smile, his eyes glimmering with something that's never been witnessed from him: evil, perhaps?

He stood in front of the large mirror, fixing the large, blue coat. He sort of looked like England in this outfit, he thought with a slight giggle. "I look crazy! No way am I wearing this." He pouted, shedding off the coat and leaving it in his chair. Italy plopped down in his chair messily, it practically collapsing from the new weight on it. The chair squeaked loudly as he turned around, the small child inside of him quickly replacing the evil side that was.

A knock came at his door as he blinked, leaning back in the old wooden chair. "Come in!" He cheered, spinning around his seat.

A tall man came through the door, handing Feliciano a stack of papers. "You have to get dressed quickly. Leave here as soon as you're finished and prepare for the fight."

Italy whimpered, standing up. "But I don't want to fight! I'm scared!" His knees pointed inwards, his bottom lip quivering slightly. "I'm not sure if I can take it, veee…" The other man sighed, placing a hand over his eye. Both their heads shot up at the sound of a gunshot, their bodies quickly rushing out the door. Italy ran back into the room to grab his coat still flung in the chair. He tugged it on, harshly setting the pirate hat on his head.

There was a large ship, much like the one the Italians had, next to them, the flag at the top sewn in red, black and yellow. The ginger Italian gulped. He knew who that was. Who didn't know who that flag represented?

"Ludwig.." He whispered under his breath, taking hold of the long sword around his waist.

A large board flew from the other ship, the piece of wood attaching the two together. A blond walked across it, stepping onto the Italian ship. He wore a dark green jacket, much like Italy's. A black shirt covered his chest, a pair of matching black pants sat soundly against his legs. He didn't wear a hat, however, because if he did, it'd make him look awfully silly.

The blond man walked up to the smaller Italian, a frown plastered on his face. "Feliciano Vargas," he started, shooting his arm out, holding a piece of paper. Italy squinted, tracing a finger over the foreign words. The German, still frowning, continued. "This is a declaration of war, between our two ships. Our two nations." He spoke softly, his voice deep.

The Italian's eyes went wide, his hands trembling. "War..?" He asked, stepping back. "No.. I can't fight..!" Tears welled in his eyes as they started to overflow, mini rivers cascading down his face. "Germany, I can't fight you! We're friends, remember?" The young mans knees quivered, his blood running cold. He was panicking. What if Ludwig tried to hurt him? What if he tried to KILL him? Feliciano cried loudly, hiding behind the other Italian that was with them.

Germany blinked rapidly, not quite sure how to respond to the sudden outburst of tears from the smaller nation. He shook his head, starting to walk back to his own ship. "I will be back in two days. I suggest you train for when I return." He was then gone, the ship already making its way across the peaceful waters.

Italy whipped the tears from his eyes, looking at the man he was hiding behind. "How am I suppose to fight Ludwig?" The nation asked, sniffling. "He's my best friend..!"

"Well, you're just going to have to get over it. He wants you dead, Feliciano. Just think of it that way. Would you rather keep him in your mind as a friend, then have him kill you? Or forget that he is your friend, and have a fair fight with him?"

The ginger sighed, still rubbing his now swollen eyes. "B-but.." he looked up at the dark sky, the stars twinkling. The balls of light shinned in his brown eyes, giving the Italian some sort of peace. He still worried, though, about what was going to happen two days from then. He shook his head, still crying into his palms. Italy walked into his room, shutting and locking the door behind him. He made his way over to his bed, burying his face in the pillow. "What am I supposed to do..?" The young nation whimpered, spinning around to look at the blank ceiling. "Veee.. I don't know what to do.." He turned his head, glancing at the mirror that was still in the far corner of the room. His hips shifted, making it so his body was away from the glass. Something in his mind told him to turn around, so being the peppy Italian he was, he listened. His eyes widened as he saw his legendary grandfather standing there, a hand to his hip. "Grandpa Rome!" Feliciano beamed, his sad state tossed out the window. "What are you doing here?" He asked, a bit over excited.

"I'm here because your heart needed me~!" Rome sang, placing a hand to his heart in a dramatic fashion. "You are a couple of days away from a big fight, right? With Germany?"

He red haired man nodded, frowning. "Veee.. And I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do.. Ludwig is my friend, and I don't want to try to hurt him.."

The ancient nation blinked, gazing over at his grandson curiously. "Well, that sounds serious!" He took a few steps closer to Italy, setting down a large hand on his shoulder. Feliciano tilted his head up at his grandpa, looking quite innocent. The larger man nodded, thinking to himself. "First, I think you need to dig down into your heart. How do you truly feel when you see Germany?" He raised an eyebrow, wondering about this himself.

Italy smiled widely, spreading his arm out of either side of his body. "We're best friends! I already said that, veeeee~!"

"No no!" Grandpa Rome held Italy's shoulders firmly, giving him a small shake. "Think deeper. When you look at Germany, what do you feel like?"

"Well.. I feel happy!" He beamed, placing his arms back to his sides. "I feel.. Like I want to hug him!"

Rome, now intrigued about what he was going to say next, nodded with a thumb and forefinger on his chin. "Why do you want to hug him~? Do I feel some sort of love coming on~?" He cooed, swaying his elder hips to an invisible beat.

Italy blushed slightly, both his eyes open and shinning. "What do you mean, Grandpa?"

"Well, you said you feel like you want to hug him." Rome walked around the younger man, a smirked on his lips. "Does your heart skip a beat when you see his face? Does it feel.. Light?"

"Yeah!" Feliciano pouted, holding a hand over his chest. "It starts pounding really fast when he gets close.. Then I get all nervous!"

"Aha!" Rome threw his arms around Italy, holding him close to his chest. "I knew it! You are in love with him! I always knew you were gay!" He cheered, practically picking the Italian up off the floor.

Italy, on the other hand, squeaked, kicking his legs. He cried, squirming. "Grandpa Rome!" He whined, now embarrassed. Feliciano didn't think this was true.. Did he? Even if he DID love Germany, there's no way that the blond nation would love him back. After all, he wants to kill him. Italy's smile slowly faded as he realized what his grandfather was saying was true. He was in love with Germany.. "So have you two had dirty sex yet?~"

The Italian blushed harshly, shaking his head. "Ahhhh! N-no! We haven't d-done anything like t-that before..!"

Rome's faced suddenly dropped, a frown now showing. ".. You haven't?"

"N-no! Of course not!"

".. But my grandson is Italy. THE Italy! Shouldn't you have at least given him a blow jo-"

"Grandpa, stop!" He cried, his face as bright red as a tomato. "Ludwig and I aren't like that!"

"Oh, of COURSE you're not!~" Rome raised an eyebrow, curling an arms around his grandson. "You're too innocent, right?" He wiggled an eyebrow, resting his hand gently on Feliciano's hips. "Well, I have to go.~"

"Eh..? B-but… I need you to help m-!"

A small beam of lightning struck the front of the shit, a small fire starting. Italy jumped, clinging to his grandfather. Rome stepped back, bringing his hands up above his head. With a hard sniff, he clapped his hands together, a big cloud forming around him. "DOWN WITH THE THUNDER!" He yelled, then when the cloud cleared, he had vanished.

Feliciano, staring and confused, sighed, plopping back down on the bed a ways behind him. He covered his eyes with a hand, crying gently into it. Tears stained his cheeks, a tremble running down his body. Italy thought deeply, trying to get to a peaceful state.

A while later, a soft knock came to the 'captains' room. Italy's eyes opened slowly as he walked over to the door, opening it.

"Sir, are you alright?" The man asked. "You've been here for hours."

"I'm fine." The nation replied in a low voice, his eyes dark. Bags had formed under his eyes, his sclera slightly red from crying. He ran his fingers through his hair, his curl slightly bouncing. "I'm alright.. Just confused about what I should do.."
"About what? The war?"

Feliciano nodded, sighing softly. "Y-yeah.." His eyes met the other mans, a sort of dark innocence ran out of them. "I need to fight him.. I need to get over my love.."

"Love?" The man blinked rapidly, blushing. "You're in LOVE with Germany?"

"I need to let it go." He closed the door, leaning against the closed door afterwards.

'Let go'. The words ran through his mind over and over. If Italy wanted to survive, he had to win this battle with the strong German.

Two days passed. Feliciano trained as much and as hard as he could, sweat beading his forehead hour after hour. He begged his crew to fight him, every one of them beat. A half dark feeling overcame the Italian, an evil smirk appearing on his lips as he bent over his opponent.

The sky fell dark as the German ship came up next to the Italian one. The star shinned brightly over the smooth sea, the two, huge, wooden structures a few feet away from each other. The blond man stepped on the ship once again, his black boots clacking against the wood.

He walked up to Italy, standing in front of him. Feliciano was in the middle of the boat as he looked up, the signature curl blowing in the soft wind. "Bonjourno, Ludwig." He smirked softly, the smirk forming into an evil smile. It curled the edges of his lips upward, a slight tilt in his head almost taunting the German.

Ludwig frowned, not liking the look on the other mans face. "What's that look? Aren't you usually smiling and jumping around?"

"I did a lot of thinking, Ludwig." His eyes careened to the side, a hint of madness showing up. "A lot of thinking. I loved you, Germany, but to win.. I have to let it go."

His hand traveled down to Italy's waist, curling his fingers around the sword that was earlier taken out of the belt. The ginger blinked rapidly, wondering how he had gotten it so fast, and why he was still touching his waist.

Germany held the sword up, pointing it the Italian. He placed the cool metal against Feliciano's pale cheek, a smirk appearing on his lips. With a quick flick of the wrist, a crimson mark faded in, a drop of blood running down his cheek. Germany threw the sword aside, stepping back from the smaller nation. "Any last words?"

Italy frowned, the darkness in his eye slowly coming back. He smirked as well, picking up the metal from the ground. "Spero che tu sia pronto a morire, Ludwig.."

Ludwig took out a black pistol, holding it with one hand up to Italy's head. "

Ich bin bereit zu beobachten dich sterben .."

The Italian held the sword to German's neck, ready to strike if necessary. They both stood there, in one beautiful moment, then suddenly, the crack of a gunshot stunned them both, a bullet driving through both of their chests, piercing their hearts. The two fell in harmony, Germany falling forward, his blue eyes now black, and Italy backwards, his hand outstretched for someone's grasp. Everything went dark around them, a burst of cool wind whipping their hair. A small tear fell from Feliciano's eye, it staining his bloody red coat as it landed on the fabric, a single sound of breath being knocked out of him.