Author's note: And we return with some more shipping goodness! Woot!

... I watched the dub of Beautiful World recently. Although it was amazing, Italy's voice is way too squeaky. XD It gives me brain pain. What happened to you, man?

I'm just gonna pretend that voice doesn't exist...

On with the chapter!

P.S. Italy's POV was a pain in the backside to write, but I tried my damndest. I hope I did it justice.

P.S.S. Something in my heart isn't comfortable with posting this chapter! Lol. But what can you do, I guess. I dug my own grave with this one.

Chapter Two: Switcheroo

Italy yawned as he stretched himself awake. That had been a great sleep. He'd had such great dreams, too. Grinning sleepily, he turned to his friend.

"Buongiorno!" he said.

He paused. He was used to Germany being awake before him, but something he wasn't used to was the look the man was currently giving him. He had his chin propped on an elbow and those blue eyes, which were usually barred off to the world, were now open, providing a window to the German's soul. They were sparkling at him. Surely, he must be seeing things.

"Buongiorno, Italy..." Germany replied with a warm smile.

Italy stared. Since when did Germany talk to him in Italian? Or smile at him, for that matter? Something was wrong here.

After a few moments of thinking it over, the Italian chuckled. "That's right, I'm still asleep! Silly me!"

Germany reached out a hand and gently brushed his brown bangs aside. Italy froze. Okay, now that was weird. Yep, he must definitely still be asleep.

"It's been so long, Italy..."

There was no way this Germany was real. The way he was looking at him, talking to him, was just so very wrong. Yet the tone of voice he was using half made him want it to be real.

"Eh? B-But, Germany, I only saw you yesterday!"

Germany shook his head, his gaze never leaving Italy's. "Italy... don't-a you recognise me? I've waited so long to see you again..."

"What are you-?" Italy paused. "Wait, where did-a your funny accent go?"

A pair of hands lightly gripped his face. "Look into my eyes, Italy... do you not-a recognise me?"

Italy's brain was starting to malfunction. What was going on? Why was Germany suddenly so touchy-feely? Why was he so affectionate? That was usually his job! Not to mention, he was asking so many weird questions! It just wasn't adding up! He just had to be asleep! But then, why did it feel so real? He wasn't sure anymore.

"Uh, you're starting to weird-a me out... If I'm asleep, I want to wake up now..."

Germany shuffled forwards, until his face was a few inches away from his own. "Italy... you're not asleep... I'm real..."

"But you can't-a be, because you're not acting like you at all, Germany!"

Germany gave a light frown. "I'm not Germany..."

"Huh?"

Germany smiled. "It's me... Holy Rome..."

Italy froze, his heart stopping dead in his chest. He lay there, staring at Germany for the longest time, unable to believe what he'd just heard. Had he really just said that?

After a long while, he relaxed and chuckled. "Aww, Germany... it's not nice to prank-a me like that... but how do you know about Holy Rome? I don't-a remember ever telling you about him... unless I mumbled his name in my sleep at some point... though you usually tell me I talk about-a pasta in my sleep..."

"Italy..."

Germany's thumbs trailed across his cheeks. Italy's heart skipped a beat. In his mind, joy was in an all-out war against confusion. It was making him dizzy.

He gave a nervous laugh. "Oh, I get it! You must-a be sick! Either that, or I really am still asleep! But, if you're sick, then you really should just lie down and get some rest, or something! Siestas are good for the soul!" He paused, a bead of cold sweat collecting on his forehead. "Um, why are you still holding my face?"

Germany leaned forward and, the next thing he knew, a pair of lips was pressing against his. He squeaked loudly in surprise.

Panic built up inside him. It started small, then grew bigger and bigger, until it threatened to burst from his chest. Yelping, he threw himself backwards, flailing his arms around. Before he knew it, he landed on the floor with a painful thump.

"Italy!"

He scrambled to his feet. "Oh no, you really are sick! Really, really sick!" He ran around the bed, pushing Germany onto his back and covering him with the blanket. "Hold on, I'll get-a you some medicine!" He ran around the bedroom, looking in every drawer and cupboard he could find. "Where do you keep the medicine?" He tripped over something, but ignored it and continued searching.

"Italy!"

"Don't-a worry, Germany! I'll make you better! I just need to find the medicine!" He continued to check everywhere. "No, that's a dirty book... No, that's another dirty book... Where is that medicine?"

"Italy, it's me! Holy Rome!"

"I told-a you, that joke isn't funny, Germany!"

There was a pause. "I've liked you for a very long time... It's been since at least the tenth century..."

Italy froze. After a moment, he turned his head with a painful creak to look at Germany, who was sitting up in bed. "Wait... what?"

Those bright blue eyes sparkled at him, the same way his used to. "I wish I could've kept-a your push broom... but I don't know where it went..." The smile turned sad. "I'm sorry..."

Italy's throat became dry. "H... How...?"

"It's really me... I wanted to come back and see you, Italy, but I couldn't..."

Italy slowly walked towards the bed, trying to process this information. "I swear, this better not be a prank, Germany!"

"I wouldn't lie to you..."

"But you can't-a be Holy Rome! He died three hundred years ago! Plus, you look and sound-a like Germany! Except-a without the funny German accent..."

"Si, I did..." Germany scowled. "That frog-face, France, killed-a me."

Italy stopped by the side of the bed, his blood suddenly going cold. "Big Brother France did?"

"Si."

"Then... how are you here right now?"

"That kraut, Germany, and I share the same body..."

"You... do?"

"Si."

Italy felt his brain starting to melt. "So... so... all this time, while I've been with Germany... I've really been with you?"

"... Si. Kind of."

Italy could feel himself shaking. His throat felt tight and his vision was blurring.

"So... it's really you, Holy Rome?"

Germany smiled at him. "Si."

Happiness threatened to burst from Italy's chest. He flung himself at Ger- Holy Rome, wrapping him in a tight hug.

"Oh, Holy Rome! I swear, this better be real and not a prank! Though Germany's never been good at pranks... or having-a fun in general... Oh, I've missed-a you so much!"

Warm laughter came from the man as he hugged back. "I've missed-a you too, Italy!"

"I thought-a you were never coming back!"

"I wanted to! Oh, Italy, I really wanted to!"

Italy looked up at Holy Rome with a bright smile. "If only I'd known you and Germany were the same person! I had no idea! Though I have to wonder why Germany... you... Germany... Oh, this is so confusing! Why neither of you thought to tell me this before!"

Holy Rome looked down at him, his face darkening. "We're not. That kraut imprisoned me in his mind. We may share the same body, but we do not-a share the same mind."

Italy paused as the smile dropped from his face. "... Wait, you're not?" He paused. "And what do you mean 'imprisoned in his mind'?"

"I've spent three hundred years trying to escape..." Holy Rome smiled, snuggling into Italy's shoulder. "But every second I spent trying to bust-a down that door was worth it to see you again."

Italy's brain felt like it was melting again. "... Wait, what?"

"The door that-a was keeping me prisoner. You see, Italy... I was born into this body... and when I died in the Thirty Years' War against-a that frog-face, France, that-a was when the kraut was born... into the same body..."

Italy stared at him in confusion. "Okay..."

"And he took it! He took-a my body! He locked me in the back of his mind and I've spent three hundred years trying to escape!"

Italy paused, trying to process this. "... Germany really did that?"

"Si."

"Really really?"

"Si."

"Wow..." There was a long pause. All this information was too much to handle. "... But that... that's horrible! Why would Germany do such a thing? He can be mean and scary, but he wouldn't do something like that!" He paused. "Would he?"

"Si, he would! Because he is a filthy, potato-eating bastard! How dare he try to keep us apart!"

Italy frowned, caught up in the mood. "Si! How dare he! If it's really true, then I'm going to give Germany a piece of my mind-a for that!" He paused, ducking his head in fear. "I should probably bring a white flag, just in case he starts yelling at me... He can be really scary when he's mad..."

"He won't ever yell at you again, Italy... I promise..."

Italy gave a slight chuckle. "That's a funny joke, Holy Rome!" After a moment, he blinked, then looked around the room. "Say... where is Germany, anyway?"

"That bastard's not-a going to bother you anymore. I got-a rid of him."

Italy looked back at Holy Rome. "You..." His mind whirled. After a moment of processing this news, he panicked. "What do you mean you got rid of him?"

"I imprisoned him the same way he imprisoned-a me three centuries ago. Now my body is finally my own again... but with extra muscles that probably wouldn't have been there otherwise."

"Whaaaat?" Italy flung himself backwards, out of Holy Rome's grasp. "You took over Germany's body?"

"Was that not obvious already? And, anyway, it-a was mine to begin with! He's the one who stole it-a from me! I'm just taking it back from him!"

This was just too much. Italy was pretty sure his brain had, indeed, melted by this point. What a morning he was having. Was this really happening? Was Holy Rome truly back? Was Germany really gone?

"So... so can I speak to Germany? I'd-a really like to speak to him..."

Holy Rome blinked at him. "Why would-a you want to do that?"

"Because Germany is... was... no, is still my friend! Argh, why is this so confusing?"

"... He's your friend?"

Italy nodded enthusiastically. "Si! Si! My best-a friend in the whole world!" He threw his arms out for emphasis.

Holy Rome stared at him, his eyes widening. "R... Really?"

Italy nodded again, a smile on his face. "Si!"

"But... but I thought..."

Italy's smile disappeared. He tilted his head. "Hmm?"

Holy Rome's eyes clouded over with confusion, like his brain was also melting. "But I thought... I thought-a you were his prisoner! Are you not his prisoner?"

Italy laughed. "Oh, no... Well, I mean, I was, originally... but he got so fed up with me that he kicked-a me out. Three times! But I liked him, so I came back!"

"You... you came back?"

"Si! I like Germany! And, although he's a little mean and scary, he's a really nice guy! He protects me when I'm in trouble and he barely tolerates me! We even formed an alliance!" He waved his pinky finger around. "And then we made-a this thing called the Pact of Steel! Germany wanted to call it the Pact of Blood, but that-a made us sound like one of Britain's occult clubs... so I made him change it."

"I... see..." Holy Rome cast sorrowful eyes to the blanket. "I'm so sorry, Italy... I had it all wrong..."

"It's okay! I guess it probably did look a little weird, with me being in Germany's bed and all! But I sneak in with him all the time! He always gives me this adorable annoyed face when I do, but he lets me stay anyway, because we're friends!"

"I see..."

"So! Can I talk-a to Germany now?"

"I'm sorry, Italy... but no..."

"Huh? Why not? You share the same body, right?" He flailed his arms around happily. "So, you can switch back and forth whenever you want!"

"It's not-a that simple..."

"It's not?"

"No... We share the same body, si... but, if I gave the kraut any leeway, he'd just lock-a me away again..."

Italy's spirits dampened. "... He would?"

"Si... Do you want him to lock-a me away again?"

"No, of course not! But..."

"Outside of this body, I have no physical form... If he kicked-a me out, I wouldn't be able to be with you anymore..."

Italy's vision started to blur again. "No..."

"And I want to be with you more than anything! Because you're still my most favourite in the whole world!"

The tears finally leaked down Italy's face. "Holy Rome..."

"And I..." Holy Rome's eyes looked pained. "If I were to leave this body altogether, I wouldn't-a be able to stay in this plain of existence for long..."

"Just like Grandpa Rome..."

"Si..."

Italy ran forwards and threw his arms around Holy Rome, crying into his vest. Wait, wasn't this Germany's vest? And weren't these Germany's strong, muscular arms wrapping around him? Oh god, here came the confusion again.

Was life really going to make him choose? He wanted Holy Rome to stay, but he didn't want Germany to leave. He wanted Germany back, but he didn't want Holy Rome to leave. Just what was he supposed to do? He had a feeling no amount of white flags or pasta would help him right now.

"... Would-a you rather have Germany back?"

"No! No, I don't... I don't know! Don't-a leave, Holy Rome!"

"Italy..."

The strong arms pulled away. Italy was about to whimper in protest when he felt a pair of hands cup his face. He looked up into those beautiful blue eyes. The eyes of... He wasn't even sure anymore.

Holy Rome leaned down and kissed him again, first gently, then gradually more passionate. Italy melted into the kiss, pressing himself against that brick wall of a chest. The chest that used to belong to a certain hard-hearted German... It was almost like he was kissing him instead...

When Holy Rome broke away, he smiled down at him. Italy stared at him through half-lidded eyes. The man he'd just kissed looked like Germany, but wasn't him. He wasn't sure he brain could handle this.

"Ti amo, Italy..."

Italy's heart pounded painfully in his chest. It wasn't often at all that he felt his face heat up, but it was certainly doing it now.

"... Really?"

"Si..." There was a pause as Holy Rome's hands fell back down to the blanket. "Though I have a question for you..." He looked away awkwardly.

Italy stared, breathless. In that moment, he looked more like Germany than ever. "S-Si?"

"Were you... I mean..." Holy's Rome's face turned red.

There it was. Now he looked the spitting image of Germany. "What?"

"Were you always a...?" Holy Rome's lips started to tremble.

"A what?"

"Were... were you always a boy, Italy?"

"Eh?" Italy stared at him. "Well... si."

"Always?"

"Si! Always! Ever since the day my country was born!"

"I... see..."

"... Why do you ask?"

"Because I... I used to think-a that you..."

"Huh?"

"I used to think-a that you were a girl..."

Italy stared at him. "You did?"

"Si..."

Despite himself, Italy couldn't help but chuckle. "Oh, really? Well, I did used to wear dresses and I was a pretty cute bambino! But, si, I've always been a boy..."

"I see..."

Italy tilted his head. "That's not a problem, is it?"

"No, no, I just-! I was just surprised, is all..."

Italy gave him a light smile and hugged him. He really was happy to see Holy Rome again. So very, very happy. He knew in his heart that he wanted to be with him, too.

"Ti amo anch'io, Holy Rome..."

A surprised noise escaped Holy Rome's throat. "Italy..." After a moment, he hugged him back, tighter than before.

They stayed like that for a while. Eventually, Italy's happiness started to drain away again as he realised something.

"So... am I never going to see Germany again?"

A breath of air escaped Holy Rome's nostrils. He was silent for a few moments. "... I'm sorry, Italy... but we can't exist at-a the same time..."

Italy whined, burying his face in the vest that was no longer Germany's. Life was so unfair. Yet so kind at the same time. Why did this have to be so confusing? Just what was he supposed to do...?