In the middle of Rome is a small nation of only eight hundred citizens.

That nation is called Vatican City. And that's me.

My human name is Cara. I always use it when I'm out. In fact, it's the only name my brothers know me by. I remember walking down the streets as a child. The second World War had just ended and I was struggling to grow quicker. My region had existed for a while, but was only really established in 1929, the year I was born.

My stride picked up with the older people. With my white hair and clear eyes, no one noticed me. I was invisible. People knocked me over and stepped on my feet but didn't stop. I frowned in my little ten-year-old body. I even wore white: a short flowing white dress and a light white jacket that was longer in the back than the front. My flats were getting dirty (they were white too) but I had to keep going. The pope had called me over. I wouldn't be surprised if he was going to lecture me again for pickpocketing again.

My thoughts were interrupted when, like usual, someone accidentally ran into me and I fell on my face.

"Ow…" I tried to get up, but I was stuck on my hands and knees. There was no room. Suddenly, I felt a pair of hands grab me and pull me to my feet. I let out a startled squeak but turned to face the man who helped me.

"You okay?" he asked me, brushing off my sleeve. I examined it. I'd fallen in mud and now I wore brown instead of white.

"I'm fine," I replied. "Thank you."

"No problem." The man frowned at me. "Where're your parents?"

"I don't have any," I answered. "I'm alone."

"Oh…" He thought for a moment. "Well, do you want to come to my house for a little bit? I can get you cleaned up."

"Okay…" I accepted hesitantly. I grabbed his sleeve for support as he led me in the opposite direction of where I was trying to go.

"What's your name?"

"Um, Cara," I decided. "What's yours?"

"…Italy," he said.

"You're a country?!" I gasped.

"Yeah. I assumed you were one too. I've seen you around for years, but you've never gotten any older." He pointed to a large home a few blocks away. "That's my place."

"It's so big!" I stared at it, gaping. "My house isn't nearly as huge!"

"Come on." He took me inside and sat me on the kitchen table. I swung my legs, wondering what he was doing.

"Is something wrong?" I asked as he searched for something.

"You're bleeding," he told me bluntly.

"Huh?!" I held up my arm and rolled down my sleeve. "Ah! I didn't notice!"

"Don't worry, I'll fix it." Italy grabbed a roll of bandages from a closet and picked up a dishtowel.

"It's kinda bad…" I sniffed, tearing up. I held my wound up, letting Italy clean it with the towel. "It really hurts."

"That's okay," he assured me. "It's not as bad as you think. See?" He wrapped it up in bandages and let me see. "It's stopped already."

"Mm…" I muttered a response.

I think he's my brother, I thought. He is Italy, after all. But there are two of them, aren't there?

"Um, I hope you don't mind me asking," I piped. "But isn't there another Italy?"

"Yeah, Romano," Italy answered. "He's the South and I'm the North."

"But why don't they call him Italy too?"

"They just don't." He picked me up and set me on the floor. "There. Do you want me to take you home?"

"Uh-uh." I shook my head. "I'll be fine. I'm just visiting a friend."

Tell him, I thought. Just say who you are…

But I couldn't. I was too shy.

"Alright, if you say so." Italy showed me out and waved to me and I walked out. I watched him close the door and sighed. He was really nice. I wished I could say that I was Vatican, but I was too shy. He'd see me differently. I frowned and shuffled away.

Time Passes

It was modern day. It was spring. It was a beautiful day.

I had grown into an eighteen-year-old girl. I still wore the same clothes. My hair was still straight, long, and white. I was still unnoticed. But I still saw my older brother a lot.

I was walking out of a flower shop with a bundle of red and blue roses for my big brother, San Marino. I liked staying with him and we got along really well. As micronations, we didn't have many responsibilities, but Marino was doing so well at the time, even with his carefree personalities.

"Morning, Cara!"

I turned my head to see Italy waving to me. I jogged over and held out the flowers.

"I'm getting these for my brother," I told him with a grin. "Do you think he'll like them?"

Marino may say he's not into girly stuff, but he sure doesn't mind flowers every once in a while.

"I'm sure he'll love them," Italy said.

"Good!" I held them to my chest happily. "Marcello will be really thankful," I said, using my brother's human name.

Italy's gaze shot down to the bundled stalks of the flowers. He reached in and pulled out a small bag of money I'd taken from the store. He held it up and raised his eyebrows.

"What can I say?" I shrugged. "I've got the world's highest crime rate."

Italy rolled his eyes and tossed the money back to me. "Try not to do it again."

"Okay…" I pouted. "So, um, how's your brother?"

"Moody," Italy replied. "So not much different."

I giggled. "Well, that's good, I guess. Marcello's like that too. I'd better get back to his place. I told him I'd only be gone for a little while."

"Okay, bye."

"Bye!" I turned and ran off to Marino's house and burst inside. "I saw Italy again!" I announced.

"Jeez, Vatican, turn down the volume!" Marino plugged his ears jokingly. "I'm glad you're happy about that, but-"

"Did you see Romano today?" I asked excitedly. "Did you?"

"Yes, for your information, I did," he huffed. He sidled up next to him on the couch and wrapped an arm around his red sweatshirt.

"Why aren't you excited?" I asked, bouncing up and down. "You saw your brother! You love him, I know you do!"

"Looks like someone's got a crush," Marino smirked. "And on her brother, no less."

"Oh, shut it." I shoved my flowers into his hands. "Here, I got these for you." I pulled a rose out of the bundle and put it in his wavy light brown hair. I couldn't help but think he was my opposite. I had pale skin, but his skin was so tanned it was almost the caramel color of his hair. My eyes were clear and blue, but he had vibrant green eyes. He was really handsome too, but he didn't flirt with the ladies. (Mostly because I slap him upside the head if he tries.) He was so tsundere to everyone, but to me he was the perfect sibling.

"I wish they knew who we were…" I sighed, leaning against Marino.

"You're just shy," he said, ruffling my hair. "And so am I."

"They won't like us. They'll think we're liars."

"Look on the bright side," Marino shrugged. "At least they don't have the right to order us around if we aren't related."

I smiled and playfully shoved him. I wondered if Italy and Romano would ever get along like this.

*Yeah, yeah, I know Vatican already exists but this is my recreation of him. Now he's a her!

K bye.*