Germany looked up at the clock with increasing worry. Italy was late, not just a little late, but really late. The country with the largest eyebrows, and the darkest bruises from the war, with the possible exception of France, looked anxious to begin the meeting, and the five minutes Germany had asked for were up. This meant Germany would have to speak to the Allies alone, since Japan was absent, Prussia wasn't a nation (he would probably only poke the fire anyway), and Italy was-
"Ve~, I made it!"
Italy was here! No… wait just a- Germany spun around to find a very short brunette in a green dress and bonnet, cheering her arrival, and jumping up and down like the little kid she was. Or at least, he thought it was a girl. She sounded just like Italy, but nations didn't regress into childlike forms. An image formed in his mind, that of a young child who looked exactly like that one, but when he tried to cling to it, it vanished.
Austria jumped out of his seat. "ITALY!" Hungary noticed the child, jumped up, and screamed as well.
Happy with the attention, the child (she was a girl, right?) smiled, "Ve~ That's me."
A few seconds passed where no one uttered a sound, followed by a collective jaw dropping, which was then closely followed by an earsplitting, "EEEEEHHHH?!"
Footsteps approaching the meeting room portended the arrival of an even bigger shock.
"Oi, Chibi, we're going to have to go over what the phrase 'don't wander off' means when we get home." Into the room stepped a fully-grown Italy, with a black cap on his head, a tan uniform on his person, and long black combat boots. He held his back straight, the way a soldier would, as he surveyed the room of nations with a wary eye.
"Fratello! You made it!" The child rushed to greet him, tripped over its dress, got up, brushed herself off, and tried again.
"Of course, I did. I was right behind you. Heck, I'm the one who brought you here." His voice softened considerably when he noticed the amber orbs begin to quiver. A small smile fought for control of his mouth, and won. Ruffling her hair affectionately, he said, "I'm not mad at you, dummy." He glared up at the nations as if daring them to say something. "Go on, sit down, I'll be there in a minute."
The young Italian nodded and rushed off to sit by Germany.
England spoke up, "Um, Italy, do you care to explain-"
"NOT NEXT TO HIM!" Confused, the young Italian in the green dress climbed out of the seat she had been trying to hoist herself into. "And you-" The air around the older brother seemed to darken as he marched towards the German nation. "Touch Chibi, and you won't live to eat another potato, Potato Freak!"
Several nations let out a breath they hadn't known they'd been holding. So, he doesn't like Germany? It must be Romano, Italy's older brother. That still left the question of who the child was, but at least they didn't have to deal with two belligerent Italian nations.
The child ran over to Romano, pounded his/her little fists on Romano's pant leg, and said, "Ve~ fratello, stop being mean." The older boy looked down with a flat expression, grabbed the child's leg, and gently hoisted her up into the air. A furious flush painted the child's face once the dress fell around her torso, revealing her undergarments, but the strong arm holding her didn't drop her no matter how much she struggled.
"Oi" Germany said. "The kid's going to pass out if you do that."
England tried to start again, "So, Romano, is that Italy?"
"Ve~, Romano? Where?" The little Italian looked around as though expecting her other fratello to pop out of a wall.
"Eh, the one holding you right now, the one with the hat, that's your fratello, right Italy?"
"Yes, fratello Feli is my precious fratello."
England's blood boils faster than water.
"Who are you?!" America glanced at England, warning him with his eyes not to upset the kid by screaming at it.
"I'm me!" The child cried out, delighted. "England's so funny when he's angry."
Her brother sighed. "Oi, Eyebrows, when do we get to sit down?"
"You and the kid in the dress can sit in the seat next to Germany just like you always do – AND DON'T CALL ME EYEBROWS!" The child squealed happily as the boy swung her back and forth, both completely ignoring England. "Don't ignore me!"
America glanced at the two Italians and sighed. Clearly, yelling at them wasn't going to work, and Italy was dead set on not sitting next to Germany. For his part, Germany was sitting, heartbroken, in his chair, wishing he'd never even gone to the meeting.
"Italy?" America asked.
The boy in the cap gave him an evaluating look. America hated that look, because it usually meant someone was doing his or her best not to underestimate him. What was the point in being smart sometimes if his opponents expected it? But Italy wasn't an opponent. He'd just signed an armistice with the allies, and the other day, he'd even seemed to be contemplating joining them. So then, what was with this new Italy?
Finally, the boy nodded, and said, "I'm Fascist Italy, loyal to Mussolini, puppet of Hitler, and this is my sorella-" A gasp, a manly Austrian gasp, was heard in the back of the room. "North Italy… You can close your mouths anytime now."
The young nation complied, but felt compelled to ask, "Are you sure she's a girl? It's just that people have mistaken Italy for a girl before. There's nothing to be ashamed of if you have."
Little Italy puffed out her red cheeks. "Of course, I'm a girl. When Fratello Feli let's me down, I'll take off my clothes and show-"
Feliciano cut her off with a slightly higher voice, "You will do no such thing!"
"Why not?"
"Because I'm currently in control of your nation, and I say no!"
"I'm my own nation! You can't tell me what to do!" Small blushes lit up England and America's faces when they heard this. They sneaked a glance at each other, noticed the other one looking at them, and quickly turned away.
She was about to kick him. Italy knew, remembered, that his sorella had insane strength and could probably kick his ass if she wanted to, then he'd let her go, and she'd do whatever the hell she wanted in a room full of guys, and France!
Finally, he blew up at her, "Why can't you just let me protect you?!" Chibi stopped squirming, amber eyes widening under her brown mop of hair. He put her on the ground, gently, and knelt so he could be a her level. Voice breaking, he continued, "I've only just found you. I've only just gotten to know you, don't make me lose anyone else that I lo-." The words were so thick and hard to say in front of so many eyes. He thought he was going to choke if he didn't say them, but he might just die if he did.
"He he, fratello is silly like fratello Romano." She wrapped her small arms around his face in a loving embrace, and he, almost disbelieving that something so special and warm could possibly be in his life, touched her small arms, and buried his head into her shoulder.
Even though he had all the memories, feelings didn't come with them. The memories were cold, like something he'd learned from a textbook. The only warmth he'd ever known was his sorella. That's why he'd protect her… even if it meant destroying his boss.
The room was silent, except for the squeak of a chair being pushed back. As America stood up, England hissed, "What are you doing, Alfred?"
"I'm going to sit next to Germany. Those two can have my seat." With a careless smile, he added, "Besides, we'll never get our meeting started if everyone keeps on turning to stare at those two."
He knelt to ruffle Chibi's hair as he paused, and she giggled appreciatively. Italy didn't want to owe the Burger King anything, but, for this, he was grateful. Thus, when America stood up again, Italy lifted his head, blushed furiously, turned his head to the side, and said, "Thank you."
"Heh, don't mention it. I'm a hero, after all."
It seemed the hero nonsense wasn't quite so bad when he was actually acting like a hero. Scooping the girl into his arms, Italy stood and carried her over to the head of the table. She didn't complain about sitting on his lap, or about their distance from Germany, and for this… he could have jumped for joy. At the moment, the German seemed to be looking rather depressed, Prussia seemed amused, and Russia… was smiling creepily.
Note to self: Keep Sorella away from Russia at all costs
America stood up and started to give his report. Apparently, the Allies were currently occupying South Italy. Romano must be thrilled. Italy almost wished to see his brother just so he could see him freak out at America's men, maybe even England's. How embarrassed he must be, occupied by his sworn enemy and the Burger King. Although, it was still better than Mussolini. Stupid git couldn't take a hint. When a people exiles you, that does not mean come on back and try to rule them again. With any luck, he'd be murdered someday.
"Ne, can I sit on the table?" Chibi whispered, as she fixed him with her hopeful eyes, but he withstood temptation and declined.
Another soft whisper ticked his ear like a feather,"Ne, Fratello, I'm tired."
"Then go to sleep."
"I'm hungry."
"Sorry, Chibi, but America's speaking right now, and-" A violent cough broke him off. She was doubled over, her face contorted in pain, and in his very short life, he'd never felt this helpless. "Chibi? Oi, Chibi! Are you alright?" After a few agonizing seconds, Italy removed her small, trembling hands from her mouth, and saw red all over her hands. She tried to give him a weak smile, but her legs buckled, and she fell against his chest, sobbing.
"They're dying, fratello." She cried.
"Who? Who is?"
"My people. The soldiers."
"Chibi! You have to tell me, please. Who's killing them?"
Another violent cough wracked her small body, but she wouldn't answer. She didn't have to. Italy could see the answer written all over Germany's face.