Hello my lovely Hetalians! I made a thing for you guys and hopefully, if enough people like it, I'll continue the story. I can't wait to see what you think of it! On with the story!

Germany was not the kind of man to pry into someone's secrets. He himself had too many that no one should ever know. He knew that secrets were secret for a reason.

Then why did he follow that idiot, England and most of the other countries into a different world? Why did he follow his magic?

"Look brother! There's Italy!"

Indeed there was Italy. Many Italies were there, in little frames like paintings on display. They were in Italy's brain, his memory, his personal secret holder. It felt wrong but yet the temptation to learn more about the mysterious Italian had meant more than the sin of intruding on Italy's past.

"Ok, I guess we start at the beginning, then." England walked down the long walkway until he saw the first frame of Italy's memories. He then grabbed the frame and proceeded to lift himself up when he was stopped by Germany.

"Vait!"

"What?"

"Shouldn't ve think about vhat ve're doing? Ve're invading Italy's memories, vho knows vhat ve'll see."

"Don't you vant to know vhat he's like, brother?" Prussia threw his arm around Germany's shoulders and shrugged, "I meant, ve know him now but think about the past? Ve could understand him better!"

"But what if Germany's right? What if we hurt Itary's feerings?" Germany looked at Japan with grateful eyes until England stepped up.

"Look, we could stand around here for days talking about his feelings. The fact is that we need to know more of Italy's history."

"But…"

"Just do it, brother! Italy vill forgive us, he's Italy!"

Germany knew that Italy wouldn't hold a grudge but he still felt wrong about all of this. England extended the frame and jumped into the memory followed by China, Russia, Prussia, France, Spain, and Romano. Japan nodded his head and allowed Germany to walk through before stepping through himself.

It was a warm summer's day and on the top of the hill was a man in gladiator clothing; he looked battle-ready and cautious as he scanned the landscape for any sign of life. The man stopped and spotted a spot of white, a little child with brown hair and closed eyes.

He walked toward the child, smiling as he saw his grandchild before his eyes.

"Hello?" The small voice stopped him but he never faltered in his smile, "Who are you?"

"You can call me Grandpa Rome…what is your name, little one?"

"I-italy…I'm hungry…can I have some pasta?"

Rome smiled and laughed lightly at the sweet child before him. He picked up Italy and carried him away to his camp, ready to feed the little nation.

For months, Rome fed, clothed, and taught little Italy in music, art and even the ways of war. Italy never showed an interest in the wars but he always was drawing, painting, sketching, everything he could ever do with a pen and pencil. He was always smiling, always laughing, so happy and carefree in his life that he didn't notice Grandpa Rome falling.

It wasn't until it was too late to try to help him that Italy started to cry. Grandpa Rome touched his grandchild's face and whispered soft Italian to him, trying to get him to calm down.

"Italy, Italy listen to me."

"Y-yes?" Italy rubbed the bitter tears out of his eyes as best he could.

"I need you to promise me something."

"Anything."

"…I want you to never go to war…at least until you get stronger or have allies to help you…be a good little girl for me…"

"Yes Grandpa Rome, I'll be a good girl…I'll always be a good girl for Grandpa Rome…"

Germany jumped out as soon as everything faded to black; Italy, the first friend Germany has ever had, was secretly a girl?

It couldn't be true. It couldn't be true. But yet, down deep in his heart, he knew Rome would never just say something in mistake. Italy was a girl.

No one said anything, convinced it was just a misjudgment on Grandpa Rome's part as they jumped into the next memories. Germany still waited a moment before following everyone into the memories of Austria's house.

"You idiot! No supper for you tonight!" Austria kicked Italy out of the house and onto the lawn under the stars. She had been late giving him the tea, having gotten lost in the large house. Italy knew that she wouldn't be able to be let back in until Hungry opened the door.

"Aw~…why is Mr. Austria so mean to me?"

She looked around at the field and sat down in the tall grass, waiting for Hungry when she heard a soft noise.

"I-italy?"

Italy looked back behind her at the small boy around her age. He was wearing a black robe, black hat and white necktie. It was Holy Rome, the small empire that chased her around the mansion. He always seemed to be angry or scary in the day, but right now he looked concerned.

"What are you doing out here? It's cold."

"Mr. Austria threw me out without supper and it's not that cold."

Italy looked away from the normally scary empire and down to her lap. A soft rustle caught her attention as a soft cloak covered her shoulders. Italy looked back at Holy Rome as he walked inside the house, leaving her with his cloak.

The garment was still warm from his constant use of it and it smelled like the rich earth and soap that reminded Italy of him. She smiled and gripped the cloak tighter around her as she felt herself falling asleep.

"That's strange…"

"Romano?" Spain asked concerned. The other nations looked at Romano who blushed and growled.

"It's nothing! Just…nothing…"

Aw little Italy! Who else loves that little biscuit? Join me next time for the next part of the story! Until next time!