Today the waves seemed calmer, less hazy then yesterday. They lapped closer and closer to him, and even when the tide passed him, he did not feel the cold nip of the waves, or the sand squishing underneath his bare feet or his blood-stained bottoms. The water didn't turn red this time as it withdrew from him, which was a good sign. Today could be a good day. He hummed a soft tune as he looked over the little beach, his eyes once again in his routine locking to the old fire pit which still stood waiting to be lit and used to roast food.

He couldn't remember if the blood from his organs still lingered on the old stones bordering the pit. It didn't look like bits of his skin still clung to the ground. Maybe the water took them.

He sighed and curled up, feeling his knees press into the empty chest he still had, his ribs poking at the dirtied appendages. He drew into the sand, seeing the little stick figures form and dance in the sand before the water took them away, leaving though one poor figure, half of him captured by the sea. Like every day up till now, the tears came quickly, blurring his sight like the fog that sometimes joined him. Why did they do it? The question has been left unanswered for so long, he couldn't remember if he ever thought of an answer.

So many years have passed with him just wandering the little island. He could see people and countries pass through here, and every time he tried to get them to see him, they ignored him. They couldn't see or hear him, and he was alone with the world going on. He would see his old friends sometimes on the old beach, though Japan had stopped coming a long time ago. He must have forgotten, or finally accepted it and moved on like the rest of them seemed to do. He decided a while ago that the years may have clouded his memories, made him forget. He would however see Germany every month, coming to the beach and just sitting there, facing the sea. He liked to sit next to him and see if he would notice him.

He tried to touched him once though. His hand went through what he knew was to be tough muscle and when he looked up at Germany he was silently crying. Germany would now sit on the beach during his visits, crying without sound and whispering his name like a prayer. He would sometimes curl up and let a few sounds leave him. It hurt to see Germany cry, and even to this day it hurt. He wanted to comfort Germany, he wanted to be there for him and actually touch him and make sure he was okay. He didn't like being this stuck ghost. He wanted to go home, to come back to the world he knew. He looked out to the waves himself now, noticing the sun was high in the sky.

Mid-day. He would usually have a siesta right about now, ignoring Germany's orders for training. Germany would bend sometimes to it, and even once he took one with him! That day was perfect in his opinion. He smiled. It's been a long time since he remembered things like that. Usually he was plagued at night by reliving his last moments. The slice of Japan's sword going down his abdomen, the drowning. Even when each organ was pulled out from him and roasted by their little fire. Germany's face as he tried to keep him calm through it, whispering 'I'm sorry' again and again. For some reason it hurt to see Germany try to help him through it most of all. Germany didn't really want to do it; he remembered the look in his eyes when it all went on. He would regret it so much.

The rustle of leaves pulled him away though, and when he turned around he let out a rough laugh. Germany was here again. He came yesterday though, why would he be here again? He slowly moved down the beach until he actually sat next to him, he tugged his jacket and plopped it next to him before tugging his knees closer to him and faced the sea. He wanted to touch him again. Instead, Germany started to talk, and his voice sent butterflies through his empty body.

"I don't why I came back, or even why I'm trying this but…..I talked with England yesterday"

He talked to meanie England? He knew he was good in magic and things, but they hated each other right? Maybe things had changed on the main lands in Europe. He never got news here, so he was blind and deaf to their world.

"He said….that maybe you were still here, tied to the island. I didn't know what to do so I thought….maybe I could say hi if you are here" Germany laughed bitterly. "I could just be talking to myself right now. He said you could have no way to talking back"

"I can though I'm right here next to you!" he yelled, trying to take hold of Germany's arm but only ended up in the sand. He growled a bit and sat himself in front of Germany, and lightly placed his hands over Germany's folded ones. Maybe he could finally touch him and tell him he's here.

"I'm right here…" Italy whispered and flexed his fingers so they curved around the hands he wanted to hold physically. Germany's breath hitched, and he looked up at him, as if he could see him. Did he feel his hands? Could he really feel him trying to communicate with him?

"Do that again…." Germany asked. He could feel him! He could feel his hands, he could do something! He lifted his fingers and curled them around his hands again, but this time he could feel the heat come off them. He could hold them! He grabbed them hard, and started to cry again. He could touch him, Germany could finally understand he was here, watching and waiting for so long and understood his sorrow. Germany was crying again, laughing like a little kid at Christmas.

"You're here. Y-you're really here?" Italy smiled and squeezed his hands around Germany's again, signaling a 'yes'.

"I've been here for a while….." Italy whispered. He wanted to hold their hands up, and feel more. He wanted to hold him close, and whisper forgiveness for what he had done. Survival….it was survival. It was hurtful but he finally accepted it after years of thinking, waiting, watching and hoping, and he wanted to come back. He took one hand and moved it up to just hover over Germany's tear streaked face. Maybe he could touch him. He could feel his hands; maybe he could touch all of him? He moved his hand forward and felt the warmth of the cheek, the soft skin. He laughed out loud, tears falling harder. Germany's eyes shuddered closed and he leaned just a little into his hand.

Was he dreaming again? Could he dream of this happening?

Germany opened his eyes again, and they seemed to stare into him. Germany's left hand snaked up and cupped his hand over his cheek. He could hold him to! Germany could touch him! Was his hand visible, or was he entirely visible?

"Hallo…..Italy…." Germany whimpered the tears falling hard this time. Italy rubbed a finger up and down Germany's cheek.

"Hi Germany…." He responded softly. Germany didn't seem to hear him. He could touch him, and they could feel each other but verbal communication stayed out of the lines. At least he could do this. He looked though finally at his hand touching Germany's face. It was brighter, like it was glass reflecting the sun. He pulled it away, and Germany's hand followed it until his eyes were like saucers, and he was making sure he did not let out a sound.

Italy smiled at Germany. Germany could see him because he returned it. Italy tugged at his blood-stained shirt subconsciously, keeping the gaping hole in him out of sight. Germany followed his hands with his eyes however, and the smile disappeared.

"I'm so sorry…I…I'm sorry…" there it was again; the endless forgiveness for his actions. Italy frowned and took Germany's face in his hands. He shook his head at the actions. Germany didn't seem to understand. Italy smiled very softly and slowly wound his arms around Germany's neck, and pressed himself into a hug. Germany's breathing seemed to stop, and he gasped out in confusion. Italy giggled under his breath at him and leaned into Germany's ear and whispered something into it. This time Germany could hear him.

"I missed you Luddy…."

He slowly saw the bright tone of his arms die down to their usual tone and he fell through Germany. He quickly got up and out of him and watched as Germany stood up quickly and looked around, the tears never stopping for a moment. He then fell to his knees, and slowly smiled and started talking again, as if the wind could only hear him.

"It's good to know….that he missed me. It's a step closer"

Germany slowly got up after that, and started to leave the beach. Italy could follow him up to the airport or to the docks but could not go any further. He decided to follow anyway, because the time he had with him was precious; very fleeting. Germany quickly went through the island, saying hello to Seychelles as she passed. He got to the docks and paused for a moment. Italy stood silent next to him. The dock made his nervous because if he tried to leave with him, he would get zapped back, or would suddenly be back on the beach. The experience was not fun for him.

"I missed you too buddy…." Germany whispered before he walked without a look back on to the boat. Then he looked out to the island and gave a sad smile. Italy only could reach out to him as the boat pulled away from him, and Germany was gone once more. Italy sadly trudged his way back to his beach, his hand never leaving the edge of his open wound. Germany knew he was here now, and Italy could touch him for a short period of time. It left so many things behind, that experience. After….a few years he could make contact.

"What made today different?" he whispered to the air. He didn't sit down in his spot at let night capture him, but instead waded out into the calm water. Something about it made him calm, it made his feel more…alive, as weird as it sounded. He simply lay himself on top of the waves and let them pull him this way and that. He didn't feel the sun beat down on his skin, or the waves cooling him off. He just felt like he was floating forever on.

The next few days passed on with very little activity and visits. A few locals and tourists were visiting the spot, seeing the entire island before they were caught in the eventual storms that could come along. They did not see him or hear him when he called out 'Hello'. It always happened, he should expect it but something about Germany's last visit set him on edge. What if they could hear him and touch him? Did it mean his time to leave the living world was coming or did it mean he was coming back to life? It was confusing him to say the least.

The beach grew silent at about high noon, is Italy was watching the sun right. He sat calmly in his usual spot, wishing he could come home. Being nostalgic was something that was happening more often. As he started to cry and curl up, his body shining. He didn't notice however and when the jungle grew active behind him again and Germany stepped out, he didn't know that Germany could see him crying.

"Italy…." Italy's head snapped around and he stood up to face Germany. He noticed when he reached a hand out now that he was shiny, and Germany could see him. He wiped furiously at his tears and jumped at Germany, wrapping his arms around him. Germany did the same, and hushed him as he sobbed into the soft warm chest. He could just feel his warmth, but it wasn't enough.

Italy jumped back after a few seconds, his body no longer shining. Germany caught him crying, Germany hugged him. He was confused and scared at what was happening, what was going on? Was he about to leave forever?

"You're still here, right? I…just wanted to come back and tell you something….."

Please…..no not like this! Italy had suspected that after the years passed, Germany moved on. He didn't like him anymore and got together with another country or a human. He was scared now.

"After….three years of visiting and hoping…um. You're body regenerated, everything's there. I thought that when it finished regenerating that you would come back…."

That took the wind out of him, and Germany's words did not reach his ears. Italy found himself hyperventilating with lungs that did not exist. His body….they found it? It had regenerated everything back? He jumped at Germany and tried to cling to him, to tell him more and to take him to his body. He wanted to come back! Maybe if he got to his body he could come back and finally have his life with Germany! He thought he could feel Germany's hands for a moment, but it was gone quickly when Germany turned to the suddenly active jungle behind him.

Japan stepped out of the green jungle. He….came back here. He noticed Germany quickly and smiled sadly at him. Germany looked at him bewildered for a moment, but then relaxed. Italy though walked up in front of Japan and went to grab his shoulders, hoping for a brief moment that he could feel Japan as well. His hands hit solid skin hard, and when he saw Japan jumped back he knew he could feel it as well.

"Japan?" Germany asked. Japan looked around, looking scared for once.

"I felt…something touch me" Japan spoke softly. Germany smiled and then did something as if to explain what had happened. He held out his palm. Italy wanted to grab it, and when he did he felt solid skin again, and his hand got shiny again. Japan's eyes this time grew to the size of dinner plates as the phantom hand grew into white in Germany's curled fingers. Something was there with him. The hand wasn't the only thing there though as an entire ghostly body formed, and Italy watched in so much happiness as Japan smiled and turned to where he stood watching like the good ghost he was. Italy didn't know he could see him, but when Japan spoke up with tears falling down.

"Hello…..Italy-kun….."

Italy smiled at his comrades. Maybe, just maybe, he could finally wake up. Japan had come back after a two years absence. Maybe he was trying to collect himself or was trying to convince himself to face it. Both of them looked his way, even though he was not visible. They left though as he slowly disappeared again and the sun started to set. Italy decided to follow, just in case he could actually join them off the island. He noticed though something tied around Germany's wrist. He didn't know why he noticed it now as they got closer to the docks.

It was an Iron Cross. It's cord wad wrapped around his wrist. Was that his, or was it Germany's? He didn't know but as they got on the boat he hesitated. Could he get on and follow? The two countries seemed to smile at him as if they could really see him right now. He took a breath, really how was he doing this, and stepped on the boat. He wasn't being pulled back on the island. He was still on the boat even as they started to pull away from the island. He…

Germany finally lifted his wrist just enough for him to see and pointed to the necklace. Germany must have talked with Mr. England more after the last visit. Japan moved up to the front of the boat, leaving them to just sit in silence in the back. He sat snuggled up against Germany's still solid form, and smiled the entire way. He…could come home.

After a long trip, and a plane trip as well where he sat on Germany's lap and enjoyed the blush on his face, he was in Italy; his home. England was waiting when they got to his actual home. Japan had left though, which saddened him. England's eyes widened as he and Germany got closer. England smiled though and got inside the old house. Romano must have gone to Spain's maybe. England motioned Germany and most likely Italy as well, to a conjuring circle in chalk on the ground. Also in it was…

Italy cut off a scream as he looked at his body on the table. The table was rested inside the circle. Germany was right; he had regenerated. His was all there and no scars. No evidence of his death. Germany stood a few feet away, and slowly pulled the Iron Cross off his wrist and handed it to England, who in turn put it back around Italy's real neck. Italy, the ghost, felt the pull toward the body. He stepped into the circle and it lit up like the sun, symbols below him moving quickly. The house suddenly got loud and feet falling up and down came from everywhere. It seemed that there were others in waiting for this. Romano and Spain suddenly appeared. Hungary and Prussia as well. Even Seborga was there. The door opened behind them and Japan walked in. He could feel himself suddenly get stronger, and the voices around him silenced. He looked down at his hands. They looked shiny again.

Everyone could see him. He looked around the circle at each face watching him, and smiled. He walked quickly up to his body and brushed a hand over his face. It didn't seem real until he couldn't see anything, and everything turned white. No sound, no movement, nothing at all. It was like he had lost connection with everything. A voice suddenly filled the bright void.

"Come on Italy. You're close…" It was England and something dark was in the distance. Was he coming back? He ran toward the black spot and it was getting closer and bigger. Some murmuring could be heard around him he got closer until he was surrounded by black and he couldn't feel anything again; just hearing seemed to work. There were soft whispers, smooth murmurs. It wasn't just the voices though. He could hear a heart beating, in his chest. He could feel his lungs inflate and deflate with each breath he took. He could feel his fingers rubbing on something calloused. His lips, they were dry as he let out air. He felt like he was alive again. He blinked away spots.

It must have been England's magic that did this miracle that gave him life. Was it really life though? He opened his eyes to the blank ceiling and slowly turned his head toward where he knew Germany would be. Germany loomed over him and he looked like he was about to cry again. Italy blinked a few times before he spoke softly, sending Germany down the road of tears again.

"I forgive you…..Germany…"

He got to finally say what he wanted; he got to be alive, back with him. He finally got back to say it to him, with everyone witnessing it. Germany, ignoring the cries of everyone else, looked down at him and let the most beautiful smile grace his face.

"Thank you my Italian…." He whispered softly. Italy felt the warmth he missed wrap around his hand full-on. It was like a searing hot iron as shakes and shivers went up his spine. He missed the heat of someone's touch. Skin on skin, hand curled around hand.

He got to be with him and everyone again, at long last.