So I've decided to make this into a mini-story thingy, because to be honest, I loved writing the first one, and enjoyed writing this one in class. It's so much fun writing about these characters...even if it makes me look like a sadist for liking to write about a depressed Italy. But I've always thought about how he could be so happy after losing the Holy Roman Empire...I'm not a sadist though.

I have Part Three written out (thankfully) but I like to be ahead of of schedule, so once I get Part Four done I'll post Part Three, and once I get Part Five done then I'll post Part Four, and so on...

P.S-If you ever need to write something depressing, just listen to Hirari, Hirari by Hatsune Miku. IT ADDS FEELS, MAN. IT ADDS FEELS. ^_^

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, it belongs to its rightful and respectful owners... If I owned Hetalia...oh goodness, that's a scary thought. O.o

Enjoy!

It was after a century or two that his mask's paint began to chip. After taking on the false illusion that he was a joyful, carefree country, others noticed. It almost seemed like no one could hate him, not matter what action he performed. Sure, Switzerland tried to shoot him with multiple guns whenever he passed through, but not even he could hate him due to sweet, forgiving Lichtenstein. She was always there to calm down her older brother with her innocence.

So when his mask was chipped, others noticed. After years and years of continuously repainting the mask to keep it fresh and perfect, there was a chip. Under normal circumstances, he would have immediately repainted, no one noticing…yet this wasn't under normal circumstances.

It was when he gazed into defeated, exhausted blue eyes as a harsh kick was delivered to their ribcage, earning a grunt in return. Despite every little thing he'd recently done, recently agreed to, he dropped to his knees. His trembling hands slowly untied the gag around the owner of the blue eye's mouth, his own amber eyes uncharacteristically wide and revealing instability. A soft, forlorn "I'm sorry" attempted to escape its prison, yet was harshly cut off.

"You betrayed me." Those sharp blue eyes held such fury, such exhaustion, so much sadness and suddenly…hurt? That sentence and those eyes blended together, creating a new color as if this was a portrait. There was no declaration in that sentence, no questioning tone…it seemed like he was trying to actually convince himself that it had happened. Had he thought that he'd never leave him beforehand?

But he had left him.

He'd betrayed him.

After multiple cheesy moments that consisted of them promising to stay best friends forever, after the owner of the amber eyes being allowed to sleep in the owner of the blue eye's bed after a nightmare…he'd left him for the other team…the other alliance.

And for what?

Peace? There'd be no peace after seeing those blue pools of hatred. There was no such thing as peace, not even now. The paint that chipped after gazing into those eyes that spew harsh words at him was the proof of this.

The others noticed the chipped paint almost immediately. He'd gotten to his feet like a drunken man, stumbling out of the room as if there was an earthquake occurring. Multiple objects had gotten knocked over, all of them torture devices. The man would not stand there and watch his best friend get whipped, beaten, even burned. Even if he'd betrayed him, he wouldn't gaze into those hurt blue eyes as they held flashes of pain within.

No, he'd return to his home, to his attic, to his blank canvas and paint.

And start that long cycle once again.

Sometimes, my friends ask me to give them my Penname (however you spell it) for this website so that they can read my stories. I never give it to them...and this is why. *looks up at story* They'd send me to the school counselor or some shiz...I'm not depressed btw. HIRARI, MAN. THAT SONG DOES STUFF TO YOU.

A really funny story is that we're currently learning about the World Wars in geography (I expected to learn about mountains and shiz, not interesting stuff like this!) and I wrote this without even knowing about the Treaty of Versailles. My friend (who read this before hearing about he Treaty of Versailles) and I were flipping out and shooting each other looks every three seconds.

She asked me if I could see into the past or some shiz.

Well, thanks for reading! ^_^ It'd be awesome to drop a review on by, I'd gladly read it and review one of your stories too. Have a great day! :D