Disclaimer: Do I look like I own any of this?
The World Conference
Germany knew something was wrong when he didn't speak to him as he came in, not even gracing him with the smallest of smiles as he walked past him. When Italy walked through the doors of the conference room, he went straight to his seat, not even blinking an eye at his friend as he passed. The blonde did not think too much of it then, though. He probably just didn't see him, and that was something he could live with, so he too took his seat and the meeting began.
"Dude, I think the world conference can convene!" America began, just as always. Fights broke out, chaos erupted, and Germany had to stop it; nothing unusual there. Well, except for one thing. During the entire ordeal, Italy didn't say a word. No, he kept his gaze on the floor, out the window, on the table, anywhere but on another nation. Germany frowned and stood from the table.
"Italy?" The man looked up, not quite meeting his eyes. His face was blank, his usually cheery eyes dead as a doornail. Germany's original uneasiness developed into a deep concern for his friend. "Is there anything you would like to add?"
The corner of Italy's lips tugged upward into a smile, but his eyes were just as dead as before. " ~ve~. We should all go on a little camping trip! That would be fun!"
"Yes!" America jumped up, fists pumping. "That would be awesome! We could all go on an epic trip and do s'mores and fight bears and…" he continued his speech on how awesome the idea was until it was time to go. Germany watched as Italy slipped out of the room quickly and quietly while everyone else was just standing up to leave. The blonde frowned, confused at his friends actions.
"Hey, Germany. Did you notice Italy today?" Germany turned to see the other of his very few friends; Japan. He nodded.
"Ja, I did."
"Do you know what is wrong with him?"
Germany bit his lip. "I'm afraid not, but I wouldn't worry too much about it. Everybody has a bad day, right?" If only he knew how wrong he was.
The Camping Trip
Germany really didn't understand why the other countries were so insistent on a camping trip, though he guessed that it had more to do with getting America to shut up about it than the actual trip. Nevertheless, there they were in the middle of a forest, setting up tents for the night and poking at the fire pit to light the wood aflame. Standing up from his squatting position where he was hammering the posts into the ground for his tent, he wiped sweat from his brow and saw that the sky was growing dark. He twisted his head around, eyes scanning for his Italian friend. He was disappointed to discover that he couldn't find him on the small campsite.
"Is it just me, or is the new Italy really scary?" Germany looked over to the campfire where America and England sat on a log, toasting marshmallows. He quietly strode over to them and sat next to the former pirate.
"You have noticed the change in Italy too?" England jumped at the sudden comment, obviously unaware that the blonde had sat down next to him.
"Yeah, dude! I know. Maybe he's been replaced by his evil clone or something, cuz this isn't Italy at all! He's always dark and depressed; he never smiles anymore; and he burnt his white flags!" America responded.
England's jaw dropped. "No! That can't be true."
"It is, dude. I was there when he did it."
Germany, who had been silently praying that there was still a possibility Italy had been having a bad day, stood suddenly. "Where is he?"
"Dude, he was, like, in the middle of the forest somewhere off that way." America said, gesturing to the right. Germany took off immediately.
Middle of the Forest
After running for a good few minutes, Germany saw the flickering of firelight in the distance and ran towards it. As he got closer, he could make out the figure of a man standing in front of it, throwing sticks to keep it lighted. Germany's heart stopped for a fraction of a second when he realized that there were white strips of fabric attached to them; Italy's beloved white flags.
Italy didn't look up from the flames as he spoke, hearing Germany approach. "What do you see when you look into the fire, Doitsu?" He dropped another flag into the flame, fascinated at the way it licked and blackened the pure white of the fabric.
"What?"
Italy rose his head, and his eyes looked demonic in the firelight. Germany took a step back. "I asked you what you saw when you looked into the fire. I, for one, see the world as it burns while I watch; the murder of innocence."
Germany choked. "The…the what? Italy, what are you talking about?"
Italy scowled, dropping another flag into the flame and advanced slowly towards the blonde. "Don't play dumb, Doitsu. I know what you think of me; what everyone thinks of me. Weak." Drop. "Useless." Drop. "Childish." Drop. "Pathetic." Drop. Soon he was nose-to-nose with Germany, far enough away from the fire that the light wouldn't shine in his eyes, but he still looked like a demon.
"Well, that's not happening anymore. I'm coming clean." His face broke out into a smile; a twisted, sick one with no warmth in it whatsoever. Germany felt a chill run down his spine. "Honestly, I find it hilarious that people like you, people like them, could be fooled into believing a person could be as shallow as I pretended to be. I mean, seriously?" Italy put his hands up and waved them back and forth mockingly. "'Germany! I can't tie my shoelaces!', 'Germany! Let's go eat some pasta!', 'Germany' this, and 'Germany' that." The Italian chuckled darkly, making Germany's heart stop. How could his innocent, sweet little friend be so cold and cruel?
"Italy, wha…"
"Well, not anymore!" Italy turned quickly around, the last flag hanging loosely in his hand. "I'm coming out now; I'm rising up. You wanted me to be powerful, Doitsu? You wanted me to be stronger? Well, here you go." He drew back his arm and threw the final flag into the fire, the crackling of the flames echoing in Germany's ears. Italy turned back to the blonde, his eyes glowing with an unnerving combination of raw determination and passionate villainy. "I am going to dominate this world and tear down everything the others thought of me. And you can help me, too."
Germany's jaw dropped. "I… What?"
Italy grabbed the taller man's shoulders. "I've always liked you, and you know that, Doitsu. When we get back to the campsite, I am going to unleash a little fury." Germany looked down at Italy's belt for the first time that evening and saw two guns and a knife hanging off of it. Unleash a little fury? Uh-oh. "And when I do, nobody there will ever doubt me again, that is if they survive, of course, which will be highly unlikely. You don't have to be one of them. You could join me."
Germany shook his head, brain still processing the information laid out before him. "Join you? Italy, I could never…"
"Don't you like me, Germany?"
The blonde's eyes widened, taken aback. "What? Of course I do, but…"
"Then what do you have against this? You, me, on top of the world. What's holding you back?"
Germany looked into his friend's eyes and saw hate where there used to be kindness; grim strength where there used to be innocent curiosity. If he had become even the slightest bit more overwhelmed with the sudden, unforeseen changes with his friend he would've missed the small, desperate glint in his eyes that seemed to be… love? Could Italy be offering this to him because he was in love with him? The thought made Germany's head spin and he could do no more to respond than shake his head.
Italy loosened his grip on Germany's shoulders. "I see." He dropped his right hand to his waist and hooked his finger around one of the guns. "Well, if you're not with me, then you must be against me, in which case I have no choice but to take you out." He took his left arm and hooked it around the blonde's neck, pulling his head down and smashing their lips together in a searing kiss.
Germany's world stopped. What he had expected, he had no idea, but is surely hadn't been this. Sure, he had fantasized about his smaller friend kissing him, but reveries were nothing like reality. His lips were tender and plush against his own, moving slowly, hypnotizing him. He was far enough in a trance not to notice Italy's other hand snake around his chest, gun pointing at the back of his heart.
Italy pulled back from the kiss, disappointment and longing obvious on his face. "I'm sorry, Doitsu." Then he pulled the trigger, sending a bullet through Germany's body, barely scratching the bottom of his heart. The blonde instantly collapsed, watching as the Italian turned and ran back to the campsite.
Germany wanted to believe that none of this had happened; that he was stuck in the middle of a bad dream and Italy truly had been having a bad day. But the pained and dying screams of his associates told him otherwise, and they were the last sounds he would ever hear. You see, as much as Germany wanted to believe otherwise, Italy was not merely in a foul mood. He had been broken, snapped, and put down, every doubt he received feeding his lust, his craving to prove himself. Italy had, without a doubt, gone completely, undeniably, irrevocably mad, and there was nothing the dying blonde could do to help his friend as he lay on the ground, bleeding out and releasing his last breath, his last word; Italy.
Gaaah! The horrible ending hurts! Sorry about that, but I was really at a loss for how to end this baby. Other than that, this was fun to write. Soooo, whaddaya think? Reviews are love, so plz leave some. Thx 4 reading!
-jumpingjaxx13