Italy sat on the beach and sighed softly, staring almost wistfully up at the sky. It was days like that, when the sun was so yellow and the sky was so blue, that memories came flooding back in wave after painful wave. Memories of his happier days, his younger days. Memories of other blues and yellows that weren't part of the sky, but part of him.
Memories of his days with Holy Roman Empire.
Italy smiled sadly and bright his knees to his chest, staring out at the sea. Japan and Germany were sitting on the beach about twenty feet to his right, probably trying to find some strategic way to get off the island without calling for help.
Germany. Italy didn't understand. When Holy Rome has left to go fight the war, he had kissed Italy before leaving, promising that he'd be back. He had promised, and so Italy had waited.
And waited.
And waited.
For years and years and years, Holy Roman Empire hadn't come back. When Italy had heard that he had been disbanded, had faded away permanently, Italy hadn't been able to help but to cry. While Holy Rome was gone, the small nation had realized something.
He was in love with someone who was never coming back.
Before he had heard that Holy Rome wasn't a country anymore, Italy has held up hope, telling himself he'd confess to the other country as soon as he got back.
But he had never returned.
And Italy had never been able to tell him.
He put up the air of the happy-go-lucky, innocent Italy that everyone knew after a few months of grief. Even though he had mostly come to terms with it, he hadn't been able to pick up a paintbrush or a broom since then. It was too painful, because it reminded him of Holy Roman Empire. For a while, everything did.
But then, hundreds of years later, Italy had been found in that box by Germany. When the lid had first been opened, the first thing Italy had thought was, It's Holy Rome. He's back.
But it hadn't been Holy Rome. It had been Germany, but Italy knew that wasn't all there was to it. Germany acted so similar to the other nation... It couldn't be a coincidence. Italy was convinced that Germany was Holy Roman Empire, just in a different body. A reincarnation, of sorts.
Italy smiled and leaned back, staring up at the clouds. He had had to win Holy Rome's heart, and it had worked after years of trying to please. He would just have to win Germany's heart and then Italy was sure he'd get his beloved Holy Rome back.