Prussia decided that this 'Japan' was unimaginably lucky that he at least had the advantage of distance to keep the Italian's eyes off him. From what Prussia knew about the isolated country, they were even stuffier than his stick-up-the-ass little brother. Any display of affection at all probably would have the little thing fainting. Why hadn't Prussia taken advantage of that, yet?

Oh, yeah. He didn't want Germany to lose the only reasonable ally he'd found. He certainly needed Japan, if the other option was… What even was this?

The taxi ride had been taken up exclusively by listening to pointless chatter from the Italian as he sang Germany's praises in ways which went well past ally. Some of the things he'd talk about were beyond those of even the most serious lovers in Germanic culture; and with how open and casual the Italian was about mentioning them the pair had to be the most adamant exhibitionists in the world. Forget allies, this was the talk of newlyweds who knew/cared nothing about discursion or social morays.

Just imagining his brother doing half of the things that spewed in an endless stream from the bubbly nation was worth all of the annoyance. Well, not really, but it was funny just the same. Maybe when he got a few pictures of Germany and Italy naked in bed together, it would be made even. Well… no. The ear-rape he was suffering was irreparable. He'd take twice as many pictures, and post them around Europe; and the world if he could manage it.

That would be about half-way there.

They'd boarded the train, and it wasn't until they were rumbling over the Austrian/German boarder that Prussia was finally allowed to get a word in about what he'd traveled so far for.

"It's some sort of shit diet or something like that," Prussia told him. "The only thing they're eating is tomatoes and the only thing they're drinking is water."

"Not even potatoes?" Italy asked, jaw dropped a bit. "But Germania loves…"

The implication that his brother enjoyed passing on his rich cuisine for nothing but a soldier's rations made Prussia bristle a bit. Just because the Germanic nations didn't ignore that they were in a state of war like the Romanized ones… Times had changed, but not that greatly. Prussia brushed off the insult and focused on the question.

To be honest, Prussia hadn't seen his brother eat since before the declaration of sobriety. The first one following Prussia had accompanied with two pints of Germany's favorite beer, which had honestly been the nicest thing he'd done in a long while; what with having to travel down south to where it was exclusively sold. Even if it had been done with the intention of breaking Germany's will, it hadn't been right for the reaction to be indignance and a flat refusal to eat with his brother again. Germany had even turned down the most awesome pot of Hasenpfeffer ever made in the history of the world; which was incomprehensible.

Prussia had seen Germany eat maybe once since then, and that had been sharing a bowl of tomatoes with Japan. Without a potato in sight.

So, when he nodded, as far as Prussia was aware of he was being entirely truthful. Though, of course, his answer would have been exactly the same no matter what he'd seen before.

Italy sunk down and gave a long, obviously depressed 've' sound. Prussia wondered what the hell that even was, but he doubted it would be simple to keep an ally if he pressed too far into that. He'd save the questions and mockery for after this was over.

Prussia leaned over to hiss in Italy's ear. "Don't use real names in public. It's Ludwig, and only Ludwig."

The younger nation's nose wrinkled in disgust. "But I don't like that name," Italy whined. "It doesn't sound like…"

"Ludwig likes that name," Prussia told him.

Italy went completely silent for the first time since the two of them had been together. He'd inadvertently insulted his closest friend, and even if the word never got back to Germany it was a crushing blow.

Prussia inwardly snickered at the weakness that was caused by "friendship" and alliance. Of course, he had to put up with Italy in order to save his brother from his own idiocy…. No, this was entirely different. Germany was his brother, and he'd been groomed to be the embodiment and legacy of the great Germanic empire. He was the head of their household, despite his youth, and chances were that he would outlast the rest of them.

If he needed to be saved from himself every now and then, it was just the same as following an order from his boss.

"Ludwig has stopped drinking beer entirely," Prussia went on. "So he's not going out with his friends, or his brother. He's going to die of stress, I'd bet anything." He paused as he tried to remember the name he'd been told was meant to correspond to Japan. "And Kiko probably won't be able to hold off the allies if he keeps weakening himself without any food. That'd leave you to take care of everything by yourself, wouldn't it?"

Italy's eyes went wide; probably as he thought more about himself being hurt than his allies.

Of course, Prussia never would have let it get so far as to make his brother's only hope for survival a pasta-guzzler. He would have stepped in and assassinated enemies with his bare hands if he had to. Damned if he was going to let them lay a hand on his Germany. At least, not again.

"They'd listen to you, since you three are allies," Prussia went on. "Even as awesome as I am." He took a moment to include a hand motion to exemplify that point. "I'm not as close to them as you are."

"I'll do my best, Pr…. Um…" He smiled, simultaneously awkward and thrilled. "I don't remember what you're supposed to be called; or if I was ever told, ve~. Ludwig doesn't talk much about his family even though I ask all the time. He just tells me that 'you need to run more' and 'make better grenades' and 'don't go outside without pants on' and…"

He had no idea exactly how he was going to make it through the whole ordeal without at least a single punch to the unyielding mouth. Germany tended to be even more impulsive and angry than Prussia was. How exactly was that not a daily occurrence? "Gilbert," Prussia interrupted. "My name is Gilbert."

Italy smiled even more widely, and gave a salute that again should have been reserved for Germany. "I'll do my best, Gilbert."

Prussia smiled. It was a broad, warm one that was reserved for people he was trying to fool. As (almost) always, it worked like a charm. "I know you will, Italian."

This had to be the stupidest plan he'd ever made. But, he supposed, even the severely awesome were allowed to have a misstep once and a while.