The world is full of many 'first's.

First breath, first word, first pet, first job, first friend, first love, first kiss…

For Italy Veneziano, those last two just so happened to coincide.

He didn't like to reminisce on "could have beens" very often – they were far too sad, and nobody liked sad; especially him – but sometimes, when Germany gave him the day off from training and he was left to his own devices… he couldn't help but dredge up the old aches and pains.

The land and even the country was completely different from the one he remembered from so long ago, the people and buildings having forgotten all that had once stood here, but Italy didn't forget.

He couldn't forget that in this land, not far from where Germany preferred to train, a grand house had once stood overlooking the countryside. And in that grand house, had been a strict man with a well-honed mastery over the piano, a woman, ever-faithful, who had remained at his side at all hours of the day, and… once, a very long time ago, a boy had lived there too.

Two boys, really, but the elder was often so busy leading his armies and conquering new territories that he hardly ever had the time or the interest to return to the house, no matter how grand it was.

And in that house, one boy worked as a servant, cleaning, dusting, and organizing the entire mansion in between siestas and pasta smugglings, while the other trained in combat, geography, and language, in preparation to one day rule the continent.

Until one day, the young master of the house asked the servant to teach him to paint.

Those happy days blissfully spent in the fields surrounding the house, tracking down animals to use as an example and painting the sunset when the aforementioned beasts finally fled, had ended far too quickly. War brewed on the horizon, and as the master of these lands, the elder boy had left to face it head on…

But not without bestowing the young servant with his first kiss, and leaving with the heart of the younger unknowingly tucked in his cape along with the push-broom he'd received in thanks.

Italy leaned back and sighed, staring up at a cloud as the memory whisked by in his mind.

It had been so long since… he was no longer a mere servant, and he'd kissed more than a few people in between now and then, but… he'd never found his heart again.

Not since Holy Rome had marched with his men, waving at him from afar and shouting about his imminent return.

'Ve… what could we have been, if he came back..?' he thought, idly swiping the familiar feeling of tears from his eyes.

He could never think about the Holy Roman Empire without getting a bit teary-eyed, but it was hard to avoid the subject when the landscape looked so familiar; it wasn't a perfect duplicate of the field he and Holy Rome had said farewell to each other in, but it was pretty darn close if you asked Feliciano.

Bringing his knees up to his chest, he sighed once again, a wistful sort of sigh that all people who know the sting of lost love are familiar with. He sat there, stewing in silence, for quite a while, before a loud, booming voice calling his name startled him into looking up.

"Ve~! Germany!" he gasped, springing to his feet as quickly as he could, beaming widely as the taller nation came up to him panting slightly. "Did you need something?! Wait, I didn't miss another training session, did I?! I could have sworn you let me off the hook today, I'm sorry if-!"

"Relax, I'm not mad Italy," Ludwig cut him off swiftly, far too aware of the string of apologies that would erupt if he allowed the other to continue, "I didn't even expect to see you here- hey, why are you crying?!"

Blinking at the startled blonde's half-flustered expression, Feliciano jumped and swiped at his face, discovering that a trail of moisture had remained on his cheek despite his earlier attempt to remove it. "O-oh, it's nothing! Just stared at the sun for a second too long, ve~!"

Luckily, he was known to do such ridiculous things on occasion, and the taller nation bought the excuse without further prompting, though he did sigh in familiar exasperation. "Be sure not to do that from now on. Going blind would be incredibly detrimental to the training regimen I have planned for the next few weeks," he grumbled.

Veneziano, internally cheering that such a lie was bought, just nodded his head, wide smile spreading across his face. "I'm fine, Doitsu~! Anyway, did you need something?"

Ludwig, a small smile curling his lips, shook his head. "Nein. Just because I gave you the day off doesn't mean I need to slack off; I was just going for a jog."

"Do you want some company?" Italy offered, though inwardly he was suppressing sobs of exhaustion, already dreading the burning in his legs and squeezing of his lungs; just because he was fast didn't mean he enjoyed the activity!

Germany rolled his eyes, most likely already aware of which direction Italy's thoughts were heading. "You'd drop within ten minutes without me yelling at you, and I gave you the day off; feel free to do as you wish. So long as it does not include blinding yourself with the sun," he amended.

Sighing in relief at the refusal, Italy giggled and launched himself at the blonde, arms locking around his neck as he sang, "Thank you, Doitsu~!" and moved to peck him on the cheek as he often did.

However, at that very moment, Ludwig turned his head – whether to offer a scathing remark about his laziness or berate him about personal space again, he didn't know –and quite suddenly, it wasn't just a peck on the cheek.

Veneziano barely had a second to register Germany's widening eyes and think 'Whoopsie, this is the first time I actually kissed him,' before skin met skin and all coherent thought in his head stopped, rewound-

it couldn't be

over 150 years ago

there was just no way

in a field very much like this one

it was impossible

saying good-bye instead of thank you

France said that he

another first kiss, with another boy with blue eyes (like the sky before a storm) and blonde hair (that reminded him of the wheat fields back home)

he would've come back for me sooner; he promised

the feel of a forehead touching his, the other boy's eyes glassy and unfocused

where has he been what happened to him no no this isn't right

"I've wanted to do that since the tenth century"

why didn't you come back for me I waited so long oh God-

"Sei qui," he whispered, eyes wide open and staring, arms having slackened their grip and taking a step back, raising one hand to lightly brush his lips

because no matter how much time passed or how many others he'd kissed, he knew those lips anywhere.

"I-Italy," Ludwig stammered, cheeks stained with a dark red he couldn't recall ever seeing on his face before

not on this face; on a smaller, rounder face that blushed crimson every time he caught sight of him.

Feliciano felt heat rise up in his own cheeks, even as a spike of ice drilled into his spine

Sei qui, sei qui, sei veramente qui questa volta, Dio mio è davvero!

No, no, wait, you're here but you're not-! Why did you never- non ti ricordi hai promesso di tornare dove eravate?!

Ludwig raised a hand when Italy's face drained of color, but the smaller nation backed away before he could touch him.

"Mi dispiace," he whispered, already feeling the familiar burn in his eyes – crying, always his default reaction to any sort of problem, no wonder he hadn't come back for him-

"Italy-!" Germany started, voice strained and hoarse as if he was dehydrated in the desert, but Veneziano was already moving, spinning around and fleeing across the field, deaf to Ludwig's shouts for him to stop, come back, what's wrong-

And tears streamed steadily down the young man's cheeks as he realized.

Oh mio Dio, è vivo. È vivo e lui non è tornato per me.


A/N: My God, the ANGST. This is possibly the best angsty romance one-shot I've ever written, so please tell me what you thought about it!

Italian translations (used google translate, probably not accurate):

Sei qui =You're here.
Sei qui, sei qui, sei veramente qui questa volta, Dio mio è davvero! = You're here, you're here, you're really here this time, Oh my God!
non ti ricordi hai promesso di tornare dove eravate?! = Why didn't you remember why didn't you come back?!
Mi dispiace = I'm sorry.
Oh mio Dio, è vivo . È vivo e lui non è tornato per me = Oh my God, he's alive. He's alive and didn't come back for me.