Author's Note: Er, yeah. This is the apology story that you guys voted for! Be prepared for fluff... I hope. I'm not exactly the best at writting... fluff, but I think this turned out alright. It's written a bit differently from my other stories- but that's okay.

Whelp, enjoy the ItaPan~!

Disclaimer (Dark Side of the Moon): If I owned Hetalia, I would've probably made it make even less sense than it does now.

"U-um…" Italy stared; it was hard not to- the person in front of him was different from anyone he'd ever seen before. The hair and eyes were as dark as a crow's feathers, and, along with his fair skin, the boy seemed to be almost unreal.

Italy pushed the ball in front of him, "Y-you dropped this…"

The boy nodded and walked up to him. Taking the ball, the stranger asked, "Are you the one I've been waiting for?"

"Ve?" He squeaked.

"… I'll take that as a 'possibly'," the boy said. "Do you have some sort of message for me, dream spirit?"

"W-what? Dream spirit?!" Italy exclaimed, "B-but this is my dream!"

The boy's eyebrows lifted slightly. "Are you sure? I'm fairly certain that this is my dream… It does look different than usual, though… Tell me, strange one: How is it that you speak Japanese so fluently? I've never seen someone like you before."

"Japa-what…? I don't know what you're talking about, we're speaking Italian!" Italy would usually be panicking by now, but since this was a dream, he felt more curious than anything.

"Ital…" the boy trailed off. "Ah, I get it. We are having a shared dream- dreams that are meant to bind people's fate. These occurrences are rare, we should be grateful for such a gift."

"… Do your dreams have pasta?" Italy questioned, starting to get hungry.

The strange boy's head tilted to the side, his face not giving away any emotions. "What's that?"

Italy's jaw dropped. How could anyone not know what pasta was? "It's the most amazing food in the whole world!" He shouted; getting overexcited just thinking about his country's various pasta dishes.

The boy's eyes widened ever-so-slightly, "Really? Even better than soba or salted tuna?"

"Ve~! I don't know what that is, but yeah!" The Italian responded, bouncing up and down with a stupid grin on his face.

"Hmm… I will have to keep that in mind… My brother might know what it is…" The boy muttered under his breath.

"You have a brother too?" Italy asked curiously.

"… More than one," the boy's face gave away a slight grimace. "So… what is your name? If we are to be bound by the red string, I might as well know it."

"That's easy! My name's Feliciano~!" Italy chirped.

The raven-haired beauty did a double-take, "You're a boy?"

"Of course I am~!"

"Ah…" Feli studied the boy's face closely. "Strange, he seems disturbed about something… Maybe he's upset that he's never had pasta before!"

While Feliciano was thinking, the boy was panicking behind his mask of indifference. "H-he's a boy? But he's wearing such… feminine clothes…" Japan's eyes darted to the dress and back up again, blushing lightly, "Keep calm, Kiku. You don't know how your fate is connected to him! It could just be a great friendship!"

"But that's not what Yao-nii-san says about these kinds of dreams! He says that shared dreams are to connect two people with the strongest bond!" A mocking voice said in the back of his mind.

"Gah! But he's so young too!" He mentally kicked himself. "… I should introduce myself; it's only fair, after all."

"… Kiku," Japan mumbled quietly.

Feliciano blinked. "Huh?"

"… I said: my name is Kiku," Japan offered an awkward smile. "Or, sometimes, I'll go by Japan, my country name."

"Ve~! You're a country too?!" Now the Italian was bouncing even faster than before. "I'm the Representative of Italy~!"

"… I had a feeling that you were a Nation, but I wasn't sure… I only know of the ones in my family and some strange European ones that Yao-nii-san has told stories of… Where is Italy?"

"Ve~ it's in Europe! Nearby the Mediterranean Sea," the boy cheered.

"So he is European… Great. I wonder what Yao-nii-san will think about this…" Kiku remembered all of the stories Yao told him about the 'strange westerners'. The long-haired country would often complain about how they wouldn't leave him be, or, every now and then, he'd get depressed and would drink, crying loudly about how peaceful his life used to be.

"So where's Japan?" The male cross-dresser in front of him asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Ah… It is to the East of China, we are truly the 'Land of the Rising Sun'," Japan informed him.

"Ve~! I don't get it!" Italy said, as happy (and as stupid) as a clam. "Do you think that if I dream of pasta, that it could take form and we could be surrounded by it and never run out of food?"

"… No."

"Aww… Okay~ then, do you think that-"

Suddenly the world around them started to fade. "Wh-what's happening?" Italy asked, starting to panic. "I-I don't want to DIIIIIIEEEEEEEE!"

"Ah! U-um, c-calm down, Italy-kun," Japan said awkwardly (AN: he's not really a people person). "I think this means that I'm waking up…" He will admit, he doesn't want to wake up yet, but, since he fell asleep under a sakura tree, he'd have to get up eventually- especially since it wasn't even nighttime in his country.

"Oh…" Italy's face fell; he liked talking with his new friend. "Ve~ do you think that we'll see each other again?"

"H-he's sad that I have to go…" Japan was stunned by the boy's friendliness, so, to show he'd miss him too, he did something he'd never done before. "This is technically a dream… so it doesn't really count, right?"

Kiku awkwardly gave Feliciano a smile (another thing he'd usually never do) and stretched his arms out, enveloping the other in a very awkward hug. "It's okay… I don't know when, but I know for a fact that we'll see each other again… someday…"

Then, kissing Feliciano's forehead, Kiku woke up. He was shaken; that hug and kiss… he could feel them. "He was so… warm…" Japan put his fingers to his lips in a daze.

"Aiyah, Kiku, you shouldn't be sleeping right now! Do you want to become like those lazy Europeans, aru?" Yao's voice rang out from above him. When Kiku looked up, he realized that Yao must've been the one to wake him up, and was filled with a strange anger before he reminded himself that he was going to wake up eventually.

"Ah… I apologize," Kiku stood up quickly and ducked his head. "I just wish I could've gotten to know him better… that's all…"

"Are you feeling alright? You look flushed," China came closer to him, lifting his hand to touch his dear brother's forehead. "You're warm too. Aiyah, Kiku, if you just said you weren't feeling well, you could've slept in the house instead of under some tree!"

Kiku lifted Yao's hand away from him. "I am feeling… well," he said, still slightly dazed. "Besides, I don't think that I could get back the dream I was having even if I was to go back to sleep right now."

"It must've been some dream then," Yao smiled. "Care to tell me what it was about?"

Kiku froze. "If I tell him I had a binding dream, then I'd have to tell him who I was bound to…" Kiku mentally snorted. "I can see his reaction now: Running around screaming that his little brother was going to be tainted by Europeans. Later he'd lock me away for the rest of my life… Ugh… This is troublesome."

Yao, upon seeing his hesitation, immediately figured out what might've happened. "… Did you just have a binding dream?" When he saw the younger's mask slip and show utter surprise, he knew he guessed right. "You did! Who is it? Is it one of the Asian nations? Tell me, aru!"

"A-ah… No! It wasn't a binding dream! It was just a very weird one filled with… pasta…" Kiku lied, recalling the strange food that Feliciano told him about. He knew that it probably wasn't the best idea to bring up a European food, but he knew that it would keep Yao off-topic and, quite possibly, start another one of his rants.

"… Pasta?" China shook his head in disappointment, not bothering to hide his frown, "Aiyah, those western nations are getting too close for comfort- especially since you of all people are dreaming of such a strange dish." Yao sighed, "At least you aren't dreaming of borscht- or… whatever it is called…"

"What? No rant?" Kiku looked at his brother in curiosity. "Isn't that a dish of the country to your North?"

Yao's frown deepened. "That doesn't matter. Come, Kiku; it is time for us to eat."

They both walked home in silence.

Italy, however, wasn't greeted by a smiling face when he woke up after Kiku's dream faded. Instead he was greeted with the sleeping face of Holy Roman Empire.

"Ve~? Was that all just a dream?" Italy sighed; it had been such a good dream too. "Kiku… he gave me a hug and kissed me on the forehead… it felt so real…" A small tear fell down from Feliciano's left eye.

"The last person to do that to me was Grandpa Rome… Ve~ Grandpa wouldn't want me to cry," Italy smiled sadly. "But I don't know where he went… and now... I'm… alone…"

"No." The little redhead looked out the window, seeing that the storm was gone. He looked up at the moon, shining brightly against the velvet sky, and smiled a little wider. "I don't think that was just a dream… I think it was real."

"And I can't wait to see him again." Never one to stay up at night, Italy promptly fell asleep beside HRE, dreaming of how he'd show his new friend pasta when they meet in real life.

The time was WWII. The most that Japan could remember from what he thought was some long-lost memory, was that there was a girl (?) named Felicia… Italy, however, forgot the whole thing. The dream was gone.

That is, until now.

Germany had brought Italy to a meeting with their newest ally, Japan. Italy was really excited; he'd heard all sorts of stories about the mysterious Island Nation. There was one that was about how no one's seen him smile, another regarding how he was very knowledgeable about machinery, and then, Italy's favorite, that he was a very good fighter.

The only reason that this was his favorite story was that, in his mind, there'd be two Germanys protecting him now. "Ve~ if he's good at fighting, and Germany's good at fighting, I can be the chef! I'll make pastaaaaaaa~!" Italy smiled his, for lack of a better word, Italian smile, dreaming about all of the different pastas he'd make for his friends.

"Ve~ Germany? Do you think that Japan likes pasta?" Italy began, "I hope he does… Aww… Who am I kidding? Pasta is wonderful! Ve~! I'm certain that he loves it!" He started to cheer loudly, waving a bowl of pasta that nobody was sure where he got it from.

Meanwhile, Germany pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "I swear to Gott, if you screw this meeting up I will make you eat British food for the rest of your life."

"AAAHHH! DON'T DO THAT TO ME! I HAVE RELATIVES IN BERLIN! DON'T MAKE ME EAT ENGLAND'S SUCKY FOOD! IT DOESN'T TASTE GOOD!"

"WILL YOU JUST BE QUIET?" Germany yell-ordered, his almost-permanent migraine kicking in full force.

"Ah…" Japan said quietly, entering the room dressed in a white naval uniform. "Hello, Doitsu-san. Am I right to presume that this is Italy-san?"

Germany immediately calmed down and straightened his jacket out nervously. "Yes… you are correct."

"Ve~! Hello, Japan!" Italy said nervously, Germany's threat still fresh in his mind.

"Kon'nichiwa," Japan greeted him in return. "I'd like to say that I find your artwork and culture to be fascinating."

"Thank you! I like your stuff too! Like the samurais and your culture!" the Italian cheered. "Do you like pasta?"

"… Pasta?" the Japanese tilted his head to the side slightly. "It sounds familiar… but, no, I've never had it before."

Italy's face fell to one of complete and utter seriousness. He had something he needed to do; he had to get Japan pasta. And Fast. "Come on," he said, grabbing the other's hand and dragging him before Japan started walking at his pace.

"Ano… Doitsu-san? Where is he taking me?" Japan called over his shoulder, desperately trying not to freak out from his personal space being invaded.

"… I'm not certain… I've never seen him so serious before…" Germany's response only made the Japanese man even more freaked out- mentally of course. If anyone was just going by his facial expressions, they'd never be able to tell what he was thinking.

"It's probably best if you just go with it! If anything goes wrong just pull on his hair curl! I don't really know why, but it always gets him to shut up!" Germany called again, the distance and light breeze making it hard to hear.

"What does his hair have anything to do with this?" Japan thought to himself as he was dragged away, not hearing everything the German told him. "… Why does he look so familiar?" As Kiku got a closer look at the red-headed Italian, he noticed something strange. Sticking out to the side of the man's head, there was a curl.

An image of a little girl in a maid's uniform flashed in his mind, just long enough for him to remember about her hair curl. In the exact same place as the boy's in front of him…

Before he could, per se, 'Connect the Dots', the Italian pushed him down in a chair of some sort. Looking around, he realized that he and his 'captor' were in a restaurant. And an Italian one, too.

The strange person in front of him began speaking rapid Italian with the waiter and soon they had wine and pasta in front of them.

"Ve~! I ordered you Spaghetti since it's a good beginners' pasta!"

"… What? Beginner pasta?" Japan looked at the man in front of him curiously. "At this rate, I'll get culture shock…"

"So… what did you order?" Japan questioned, using choppy Italian while gesturing to the redhead's plate.

"Ve~," Feliciano hummed thoughtfully. "I asked for a surprise because I usually can't decide just one dish! This right here is Shrimp Fettuccini- it's really good~!" He paused looking at his new ally's plate. "Is something wrong?"

Kiku turned bright red at the question. He knew it was rude of him to not eat the meal given to him but… "Well, this is embarrassing…" His gazed shifted to the unfamiliar device known as a 'fork', his host's gaze following to it soon after. "Eto, I've… never really… used a fork…"

"WHA~?" Italy shouted in disbelief. "Why didn't you mention that? Here, I'll help you!"

Italy scooped up a large mound of pasta with Kiku's fork and shoved it in front of the Asian's face. "Say 'ah~'!"

"N-nani?" Kiku spluttered, "Ah? I don't underst-"

And the fork was in his mouth.

"Now I get it…" Japan thought, pulling away from the pointy utensil and swallowing. "That was tasty… It's called pasta, right? Pastaaaa~! … Where did that come from?"

"So," Italy began, twirling his food with his fork. "Did you like it?"

"It is very good, Italy-san," Japan said, showing a little bit of his teeth in a small smile.

"Ve~?" Italy said, lighting up the room with his own 10,000 watt smile, feeling extremely happy for the other's smile, even though he wouldn't be able to explain why if anyone asked him. "Really? You really like it?" The Italian started bouncing up and down in his chair. "Ve~! You look so pretty when you smile~! Like a pretty girl!"

"Ex-excuse me?" Japan's eyebrows raised half a centimeter, smile disappearing. "I-I am a man! It is not a complement to be called pretty!"

"Aww~ Sorry! But, I still think that you would make a pretty girl~!" Italy clapped his hands together in joy. "If it makes you feel any better, my old caretaker, Mr. Austria, thought I was a girl for most of my childhood."

Once again, the image of the young girl in the maid's dress flashed in Kiku's mind. This time, however, it didn't go away. It stayed nice and clear, and the resemblance of the memory and the boy in front of him was uncanny.

"Ano…" Kiku began, putting his manly pride aside for the moment. "Did Austria-san make you… do any work around his home? Like… maybe cleaning?"

Italy nodded. "Yeah. He liked a clean house and I worked as a maid- I even wore maid dresses that Hungary let me borrow," Italy's smile dropped slightly, pausing, almost as if he were thinking carefully about what he'd say next. "But, after… I went away with my big brother, I started wearing boys' clothing."

"Ah… I see…" Japan was unnerved by his new ally's affirmation of being a maid. "I- eto- have to go… Thank you very much for the meal."

"Ve~! Anytime~!" Italy cheered, waving his hands as the Japanese ran out of the restaurant.

"Why is he so familiar? Have I met him before? Is my age starting to make me absentminded? Why do I know what he looks like in a dress?!" A thousand thoughts swam in Kiku's head, as he ran aimlessly through the foreign country.

"Wait… I have no way of proving that it was him in the… What is it even? A memory? No; I've never seen him before today. Maybe it was a… dream…?" The Japanese stopped dead in his tracks, his usual mask of indifference cracking slightly. "No… No! No! No!"

Everything came back like a monsoon.

The mask broke. Shattered. He was left without his shield from the world. "Why…? Why now?" The timing was terrible. The alliance was still fairly new and they were going into war together. Japan quickly slapped himself. "It could be worse: He could've been an enemy."

"… but what will I do now?" he asked aloud.

Nobody answered.

"Ve~ Japan's funny!" Italy thought, paying for the meal. "I wonder why he had to go… I hope the girl comment didn't make him upset… Germany would kill me if we lost an ally!" Italy's face paled at the thought. "Ve~… I better go check on him just in case…"

He rushed out of the restaurant like his life depended on it- which, if he really offended Japan, it probably did.

He spotted the familiar head of black in the crowd of brunettes, redheads, and blondes, running quickly. "Ve~? Why is he running?!" Italy panicked, "Does he really want to get away that badly? Oh no! He must really hate me! Germany's going to kill me!"

Feliciano ran after the Asian, hoping to catch up and maybe convince him to like him. Through twists and turns, several back-alleys, the Italian followed his ally, wondering where he was going all the while, until he saw the man stop abruptly.

"Why did he stop?" Italy slowly moved closer. He watched, confused, as slowly the Asian's porcelain face started twitching, ruining the effect of flawless skin. Japan's face finally stopped moving as it took on the look of a kicked puppy, not understanding what it did to deserve such treatment, only… more broken…

Italy watched as Japan slapped himself, leaving a red mark on the otherwise smooth skin. "… but what will I do now?"

What's wrong?

How can I help you?

Why do you look so… broken?

Can I fix it?

Japan…?

Italy wanted to call out, but instead, out of fear, he hid himself. He wanted to help, but he couldn't. He didn't know what was wrong. He didn't know why Japan looked so broken or even if it could be fixed.

So he did what Italians do best; he retreated.

Months passed. Italy never saw Japan smile again, but he didn't see him cry either. He never brought up what happened that day. He was afraid.

More time passed. Eventually Italy and Japan began interacting as normally as they could- a.k.a. Italy doing something 'weird' and Japan getting culture shock.

And then, one day…

"Ja-PAN~!" Italy ran up to his Asian ally, throwing his arms around him and jumping up and down. "Do you want to play fo-?"

"Wh-what are you doing? I don't… It's my first time… I don't understand! My personal space!" Japan's panicking voice interrupted Italy. "I-I… Uwah!" Kiku pushed Feliciano off of him violently.

"Ve?" Italy looked at his ally, not understanding what just happened. "What's wrong?"

Japan didn't reply, only backed up slowly.

"Ve?" Italy watched him curiously, wondering why his friend was acting so strangely.

Before the red-head could blink, Japan was on the porch, in housewife's clothing. "Wha…?"

"Do you have any idea how awkward that was for me?" the Asian asked, reminding Italy of Spain's tomatoes with the new shade of fresh color showing on his skin. "You should take responsibilities for your actions."

"… Wha?" the Italian tilted his head to the side. "Is he asking what I think he's asking?"

"You want me to marry you?" Italy questioned but said it as a statement.

Unfortunately, that was when Germany opened the door behind Japan.

And was drinking some water.

Which he ended up doing a spit-take with.

All over Japan, who was still kneeling on the porch.

"WHAT?" Germany roared.

"Ah! Germany~!" Feliciano screamed. "Don't kill me! I'm a vir-"

The German held his hand up in a signal for the other to stop talking. "I've already heard this speech before…" he growled. "Unfortunately… I'm afraid I can't allow any marriages at this time. If two of us were to get married, that would symbolize a closer relation between those two countries, making the people of the country left out… well, left out," he explained, taking his time so that the clueless Italian would understand. "As punishment for even suggesting such a thing, at tomorrow's training you will do an extra twenty laps."

"Ah, Doitsu-san," Japan, still sopping wet, intervened. "Please do not be so harsh to Italy-san; I am to blame."

The German seemed surprised at this declaration. "Oh… I'm surprised, Japan- I wasn't expecting this sort of thing from you…"

Japan bowed his head in shame. "H-Hai. I'm sorry. I will take full responsibility for my actions tomorrow during training."

"All twenty extra laps?" Ludwig asked for confirmation.

"Hai."

"I see," Germany nodded to himself. "You're a good man, Japan." He took his eyes off of his Asian ally and looked at Italy. "Now then, there will be no more talk about marriage, I trust?"

"O-Okay…" Italy said meekly, looking at Japan. "Why did he protect me? I get in trouble with Germany all the time…"

Japan caught the other's staring and blushed again, excusing himself so he could go change.

The times changed. Alliances broke and America joined the battle.

And then the war was no more.

Italy stared up at the building in front of him. It was the place where the first world meeting since the war ended would be held.

"Maybe I'll be able to see my friends…" Italy thought to himself. Ever since they were defeated, the Allied Powers had been extra careful to keep the former Axis members apart from one another.

"What are you looking at, stupid?" Romano asked him from behind. "Just get in the building already! You're blocking the path!"

"Ve~! I'm sorry!" the red-haired Italian cried out, running into the building.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Romano rolled his eyes, already used to his brother's antics.

Feliciano's amber orbs looked around the meeting room, heart dropping. "Where are they?" No sooner than the thought formed, he spotted a familiar head of fair hair and piercing blue eyes.

"Germany!" the Italian screamed in joy, tackling the other with a hug. "Ve~! I was so scared that you couldn't show up!" he cried out, hugging the tired German tighter with each word. "So, where's Japan?" he asked, pulling out of the hug.

"… He… hasn't shown up yet…" Germany said slowly, taking note of the other countries' stares.

"Ve~?" Italy tilted his head. "But, he's always so early!"

At that moment, the door's opened wide.

"AHAHAHA! Hey, everybody, your hero's here!" America strutted in, "And guess who's decided to tag along!"

Behind America, Japan walked in slowly, bandaged and almost stumbling a few times. The Japanese was greeted with several glares from the Asia section of the table.

All of Italy's attention was on Japan. "Why is he letting America parade him around like that?" Italy looked over to the American and felt a tinge of irritation. Deciding to ignore this unwanted feeling, Italy turned towards Japan again. "… He's amazing. He's not flinching or hiding or running like I would…"

Japan's dark brown eyes met Italy's.

That's when the Italian realized. "His eyes look dead."

After the meeting, Italy ran up to Japan after everyone else left the room.

"Japan!" he cried. "You look so sad! Are you alright?"

The Japanese gave a light chuckle, full of hope for the future. "Everything'll be alright with time, Italy-san."

"Thank goodness! I was so scared because your eyes looked dead and-" Italy quickly burst into tears, collapsing onto the other for support.

Vision unavailable due to his watery eyes, Feliciano felt two warm arms wrap around him.

"Shh… I apologize for scaring you," Japan said protectively. Italy felt lips press against his forehead. At the comforting touch, the Italian finally remembered something long forgotten.

"Kiku…" Italy- no, Feliciano- breathed out.

The Asian tensed slightly. "… You remember it? You remember my name from the dream?"

"O-only if you remember mine…" the redhead trembled.

Kiku gave a small smile that the other couldn't see past the tears. "Of course, Feliciano-kun," he whispered, pressing his forehead against Feliciano's. "So, now what?"

Feliciano gave a huge smile, pecking Kiku's lips for the briefest of moments. "Ve~! We eat, sleep and go to bed, dreaming of what tomorrow holds for us!"

Kiku kissed him back lightly. "I agree."

So, did you get cavities? *Shot* Tell me what you guys think! I love hearing your opinions.

Anywho, I'm very, very sorry about making you guys wait forever for me to update- I'll try my best to avoid procrastination and the common enemy of the writer, writer's block. If all else fails, I'll write another apology Fic.

~Dark Side of the Moon