Disclaimer: Don't own Hetalia. Never did, never will. If I did, the characters would be horribly drawn. *tried drawing Italy and Prussia, but failed*


To think that someone as awesome as him lost his love interest, to his brother, was unfathomable. But he does remember the butting, the feeling of losing his heart forever. It hurt him to see the blonde at his and his brother's house, hanging onto Ludwig as if he was afraid to lose him.

But it didn't matter—as long as both were happy, he could act like he was excited by their relationship while he was secretly bleeding. The pain seemed too real, the pain he once claimed he was "too awesome" for. Now, all he could do was wish his claim had been true.

It was the pain that sent him away, looking for a sedative—whether it was alcohol or a one night stand, he didn't care. Then one fateful night, he found himself with Kiku—Kiku, as in one of his brother's closest friends, a person that was his own friend, the one indifferent to everything. Kiku managed to drag him away from the bar, and allowed Gilbert to stay with him for the night.

The next morning was awkward for both of them. He didn't know what happened, and he worried that he either said too much or did something regrettable—not that he showed it. Kiku looked like he wanted to say something, but was too polite to.

"Out with it." No tact, just straight to the point—he was glad he sounded normal.

Kiku blushed, looking embarrassed before speaking. "Did you smoke Cannabis last night?"

The question took him by surprise, but he needed to clarify one thing. "Cannabis?"

"MJ, Marijuana, pot, weed, grass, etc."

He snickered at what Kiku was indicating. "No, I didn't get high." He smirked. "I couldn't even get drunk last night. Why do you think that?" He noticed that Kiku was getting more flustered.

"I…"

He allowed himself to grin, getting more amused by Kiku's response. "Yes~?"

"…It's nothing."

He sighed. "I'll get the answer."

He didn't know why he did it, but he deluded himself into believing that he was in love with Kiku. He remembers taking him to bars (which earned him a quiet and flustered Kiku) and taking him to those formal balls (which earned him the cold shoulder, especially when he suggested Kiku danced the girl's part.) With this pattern, he forgot about Alfred, and he would've been happy without him.

It was a little while later that he would reconsider what he thought.

Alfred came to him, and told him he dumped Ludwig. It was difficult, but he chose Alfred—he obviously had no feelings for Kiku anyways. At least, that's what he told himself. For the first few days, life was wonderful for him. But the guilt ate him, making him feel even worse than he originally did when he first found out that Ludwig (his own brother) and Alfred was dating.

It was because of those emotions that he had left Alfred—and just to find out later on that it was a test created by his own brother (to test his brother's loyalty to Kiku, he would keep reiterating when asked).

He found himself at his ex's house, hoping that he could be forgiven. The sight that greeted him was certainly not what he expected. He expected the usual indifference, to see anger on his face, to face weapons meant to kill him. Instead, he found Kiku wallowing in self-pity—he didn't expected Kiku to be this affected.

He noticed Kiku was starving himself—even if it was just skipping two meals—and that he was indifferent to everything around him. He usually was doing something, had some reaction to his dog (which he swears is a cat). It was because of that he stayed over to force-feed him, to make sure he did something other than sleep in his self-pity. Eventually, it worked, and he finally got an emotion out of Kiku—an emotion he himself was only too familiar with.

"Get out." The cold anger the Japanese man exhibited terrified, yet strangely relieved Gilbert.

He knew what was going on, and immediately left, but not before giving him a promise of his own. "I'll get you to like me." He left the house to hunt down his friends—Francis and Antonio. With their help, he started his own operation of "courting" him—as Francis liked to call it. He knew it was making Kiku reconsider, so he kept up, going as far as to go to Kiku's doorstep with a bouquet and an invitation to dance—at a fancy place Francis somehow owns.

His dance invitation was rejected almost immediately (even when Kiku didn't hate him, he didn't like going to the dances), but he was invited to stay at his house—albeit a bit grudgingly.

This relationship, this pattern, kept up, but Kiku wouldn't let it go any further. He couldn't really blame him either. It was because he'd done what he subconsciously said he wouldn't do—he fell in love with Kiku Honda.