Romano sat at the kitchen table, swinging his legs as he waited for Spain to get back from a meeting with his boss. His caretaker had been worn out lately, money struggles had been bad and he was receiving more pressure than usual to give his lackey away to Turkey. Romano was kept blissfully unaware of this fact of course, knowing only that every day Spain came home looking more tired and stressed than the day before.

The small Italian strummed his nails on the table, thoroughly ignoring the chores that needed to be done as he sat lost in thought. Spain's birthday was fast approaching and the boy wanted to give him a nice present, but not because he cared or anything, just because that stupid Spain would never stop bothering him if he didn't. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes as he wondered what the older country could possibly want. Spending money was out of the question, if not for the fact that he didn't have any, then for the detail of needing Spain to go to town with him if he were to spend any. That severely limited his options, especially considering his lack of talent in anything crafty.

Romano let his forehead fall forward on the table, letting out a little whine of frustration as he scrunched his eyes in concentration. He couldn't bake a cake, after more than a few unfortunate incidences he had been disallowed from using the stove or oven without Spain's supervision, and he thought briefly about writing a song before remembering his lack of musical talent. 'There has to be something I'm good at,' Romano thought to himself, wracking his brain in frustration as he tried to fight the lump forming in his throat.

Romano pushed his head up from the table again and looked around the kitchen, it was simple but efficient, like most of Spain's house. Though Romano thought it was comfortably decorated, Spain often complained about his lack of art, constantly begging Austria to have his ward make him a painting. Romano crossed his arms and grunted in frustration, he might lack his brother's training and patience, but he wasn't a terrible artist himself, it was just that no one ever gave him a chance. "That's it!" he called out to no one, suddenly pleased. He scurried up to his room to grab a piece of parchment and his crayons, he had a lot of work to do before his caretaker returned home.


"Wake up, Bastard!" Spain rolled towards the tiny voice, cracking his eyes open to see a blurry blob of tan and brown. After studying the object for a few long minutes, his brain started to catch up with his body and he braced himself for the head-butt he knew he was about to receive. Romano scoffed at this, softly slapping Spain on the head instead, "What are you doing, Idiot Spain?" He growled.

"Ah," Spain began, pushing himself into a sitting position as he rubbed at his eyes sleepily. "Aren't you going to hit me?" He asked, perplexed.

Romano's face turned a bright red and he puffed out his cheeks as he glanced to the ground. "Not today," he squeaked, barely audible.

"But why not?" Spain stared wide-eyed.

"B-because," Romano began, hesitantly spitting out each word, "it's your birthday, you damn Bastard."

Spain blinked in understanding, the corners of his mouth slowly turning into a wide smile as he swooped down and wrapped his arms around his lackey, ignoring the wriggling and curses as he laughed happily. "Romano, that's so CUTE!" He exclaimed, a contented blush forming in his cheeks before he finally released the fuming boy.

"I wasn't saying I care or anything," Romano spat out, pride obviously wounded.

Spain just nodded knowingly, still lost in a daze of happiness as he swung his legs off the side of the bed. "Your brother and Austria will be here soon, do you want me to give you a bath?" He asked, laughing inwardly at the shocked look that graced his underling's face.

"Of course not, Pervert!" Romano huffed, "I can do it myself!"

Spain was going to argue and point out that the last time Romano tried to bathe himself he slipped on the tile and had to be comforted for 30 minutes while a nasty bruise formed on his tailbone, but he didn't want to ruin the moment. "Alright, well I'm going to take a shower. Just call if you need me, mi tomate!"

Romano shot a mean look over his shoulder as he padded out into the hall, "like I would ever need help from a stupid Bastard like you!" He shouted angrily, leaving a laughing Spain in his wake. The boy made his way back into his room, closing the door behind him and stripping off his clothes as he made his way to the attached bathroom. He leaned over the rim of the tub, goosebumps breaking out across his chest as the cold linoleum brushed against his skin. He stretched out his tiny arm to plug the drain before turning on the faucet. Stepping back, he watched as steam filled the air before making his way back into his bedroom to rifle through his desk drawers. Finally, he found what he was looking for, a long piece of parchment, rolled and tied carefully with a piece of string. He struggled with the knot for a while before giving up completely and pulling it off the end of the paper instead.

Romano carefully unrolled the parchment, taking in the familiar image he had drawn only a few days ago. His heart thumped nervously as he studied his handiwork. It wasn't a bad drawing, he thought. At first he had trouble deciding what to sketch, but he had finally decided to draw what he knew best, and the result had worked out pretty well. Maybe not as good as Veneziano could do, but certainly not bad. Feeling a bit more confident, he laid the drawing out on his desk, weighing down each side with books to flatten the image back out before scampering back to the tub to turn off the faucet.

Romano spent longer in the bath than he meant to, the warm water felt so welcoming against he skin and he enjoyed splashing around the soap suds that fell from his hair. Though he was careful not to splash any water to the floor, he didn't want to repeat the incident that happened last time he bathed alone. He rubbed his back in memory of that terrible pain as he carefully hoisted one foot from the tub and planted it firmly on the bathroom floor, quickly followed by the other. He had just dried himself off and was buttoning up his shirt when Spain called up the stairs that Austria and Veneziano had arrived. "I'm coming, Bastard!" He yelled back as he tucked his shirt into his pants and pulled on his dress jacket. He definitely wasn't dressing up for Spain's birthday, though, he just knew Austria would give him a hard time if he looked scruffy.

After pulling on his shoes and clumsily tying the laces, Romano made his way to the steps and started heading down to greet his brother and former caretaker. He heard Spain's excited voice from the top of the stairs, making Romano roll his eyes as he imagined his guardian mooning over Veneziano as usual. With each step Spain's words became clearer and Romano's heart sunk deeper and deeper as realization started to sink in. His suspicions were validated as he finally made it to the ground floor and saw Spain happily holding a large canvas over his head.

"Isn't it beautiful, Romano? Just look what your brother did for me! He's so talented~!" Spain gushed happily, totally unaware of his lackey's devastated face.

Romano shuffled forward, completely forgetting to acknowledge his company as he studied the painting in his caretaker's hands. It was a beautifully detailed piece, featuring a brightly colored sunset over the lush Italian countryside. Romano felt painfully inadequate as he recalled the little drawing that laid shamefully on his desk. There was no way he could give that to Spain now, he didn't even want to the older country to see it, lest it become more fuel for him to be compared to his brother.

"Ve, what's wrong brother? Don't you like it?" Veneziano asked worriedly as he watched his older brother frown.

Romano snapped back to reality and tore his eyes from the painting to his brother's innocent face. "I-it's fine," he said finally, torn between being angry at his brother and upset over the situation.

"Why don't you help me decide where to hang it, Veneziano?" Spain said cheerfully, completely oblivious of his lackey's inner turmoil.

"Ok!" The younger Italian agreed, "and then can we have some lunch, I'm starving!"

Romano watched as Spain shot Veneziano a thumbs up before picking the boy up and carrying him to the kitchen with Austria following closely behind. He loved his brother but whenever he was around it made Romano feel like an outsider from his relationship with Spain. It hurt to think the one person that he truly cared about loved his brother more, but Romano couldn't exactly blame him. Veneziano was cuter, sweeter, and more talented, and now Spain was going to think he was more thoughtful, too. Romano bit his lip and fought the lump in his throat, he didn't want to embarrass himself by getting upset in front of Austria and his younger brother.


The day dragged on for Romano after that, he remained quiet through much of the happy conversation and picked half-heartedly at his dinner. He was ready for Austria and Veneziano to leave so he could go to bed and pretend this whole day never happened.

"Don't you agree, brother?" Romano studied Veneziano's face, the boy had been babbling on for what seemed like hours and Romano had been tuning him out.

"Uh sure, whatever," the older Italian mumbled back half heartedly.

"Yeah, I think Grandpa Rome was the best caretaker we ever had," Veneziano nodded resolutely.

Romano snapped his head in attention, "wait, what?" He asked, the topic of his neglectful Grandfather irritating him instantly.

"You know, I was just saying that no one's ever been so thoughtful as he was. He taught us so many nice things, like how to paint and write and chat with pretty women," the younger Italian smiled dreamily at the memory.

"You mean he taught YOU those things," Romano snarled. "That damn bastard never had anything to do with me."

"What do you mean, Romano? He loved us both." Veneziano pouted.

"No, no he didn't. He doted on you and completely ignored me." Romano started to rage, voice growing louder and louder. "And he taught you all these nice skills so everyone else would ignore me, too." Romano knew he was being irrational, but he couldn't stop. "You and you're stupid ass paintings, waltzing around like you own the place, I WISH YOU'D JUST FUCKING GO ALREADY!" He screamed as Veneziano started to cry.

"Romano!" Spain yelled as he ran into the room followed by Austria, "what's going on here?"

"Nothing, I just, I-" Romano began as Spain ran over to comfort his crying brother.

"I'm sorry Romano, I'm sorry you want me to go," Veneziano cried as Spain patted his back and cooed soothingly.

"Suck it up you big baby," Romano grumbled, crossing his arms.

Spain shot his lackey a stern glare, "Romano. Room. Now." He said simply, the lack of friendliness in his voice enough to make the young Italian exit the room without argument.

The older country sighed as he listened to his ward stomp his way up the stairs and slam his bedroom door. "I'm sorry about that," Spain scratched the back of his head as he smiled apologetically.

"It's ok, he was my lackey at one time, I know how he can be," Austria smirked as he pushed a still sniffling Veneziano towards the door. "Anyway, we need to get going before it gets too late, thanks for having us over," the pianist replied politely.

"Ok, thanks for coming! Travel safely!" Spain smiled, waving to the pair of travelers. As soon as they were a safe distance away Spain closed the front door and sighed heavily. He was disappointed in Romano, he thought the boy had started to become better-behaved, but now he wondered if it was just his affection for his lackey clouding his judgment. Whatever the case, he pondered as he made his way up the stairs to his ward's room, the boy was going to have to be scolded for his actions. When he reached the Italian's room he grabbed the door knob and found it locked.

"Romano," he called, his voice strangely stern. When no reply came he knocked at the door, "Romano, open, we need to talk."

The small Italian sat with his back against the door, trying not to sniffle too loudly as he clutched his drawing to his chest. "Go away, Bastard," he yelled bitterly.

"No I won't go away," Spain called back, unyielding, "you were rude to our guests and that's unacceptable! You're old enough to know better, Romano, why can't you be more polite like you brother?" He cried, growing exasperated.

Romano shuddered at this revelation, feeling as if his heart was being torn from his chest. He couldn't control himself as a loud sob broke from his throat, "if you like Veneziano so much, why don't you go live with him?" He yelled, wincing at the way his voice wavered.

"Wh-what are you talking about?" Spain asked, face falling at the sound of his lackey crying.

"You're just like everyone else," Romano wailed, starting to hyperventilate a little as he cried harder, "y-you like V-Veneziano better than m-me," he coughed, choking on his tears as he lifted a tiny arm to wipe the snot from his nose. "W-why does e-everyone hate m-me?" He questioned, more to himself than to Spain.

Spain leaned his back on the door and slid down to the floor. "Romano," he said softly, all anger wiped from his voice. "What's brought this on? You know that I love you more than anyone, even Veneziano. You're my little tomate, no one could ever replace you."

"But why?" Romano sniffed, "he's better at chores than me, he gets along well with people, he's artistic like Grandpa Rome and-and he's cuter."

Spain couldn't help but chuckle a little at that, "Roma, no one could ever be cuter than you. No one." He said resolutely. "And you have your own talents, you're practical and stubborn, you're hard-working when you want to be and you're always there for the people you love. And, most important, you're my little Romano, and I love you." Spain concluded, "so why don't you open the door?"

Spain held his breath as a few minutes went by with only the sound of Romano's sniffling filling the silence. He breathed a sigh of relief when he finally heard his lackey shuffle off the floor to unlock the door with a resounding click. Spain, eager to cuddle the upset child, jumped to his feet and tore the door open. He stared down at the little Italian, his cheeks were deep red and stained with dried tear tracks and clutched to his chest was a piece of parchment.

"What's that?" Spain asked curiously, dropping to his knees to look his lackey in the eyes.

Romano's gaze shot to the ground as his grip on the drawing grew tighter, "i-it's nothing, i-it, it's well, I-" he stumbled through an explanation. Finally, he gave up, sighed, and pushed the paper into Spain's hands. "D-don't laugh," he warned irritably.

Spain studied the parchment in his grip before carefully turning it over. He felt his heart swell as he studied the image and tears tickled the corner of his eyes. Drawn in crayon in the center of the page was a little Romano and Spain, holding hands and surrounded by slightly heart-shaped tomatoes.

"Happy Birthday," Romano mumbled, still refusing to look up from the ground. He squeaked in surprise as Spain pulled him into a tight embrace.

"It's the best present I've ever received," Spain cried happily, releasing his grip on the boy so he could kiss him firmly on the cheek.

"Oi, Pervert, what are you doing?" Romano fumed, rubbing his cheek furiously.

"I'm sorry, I just, I love it so much! It's so beautiful!" Spain smiled, wiping the tears from his eyes.

Romano blushed and looked back to the ground, "well I know it's not as good as Veneziano's but-"

"You're right," Spain cut him off suddenly, "it's better, much better!"

Romano smiled a little, despite himself. He didn't believe the older country, but it still felt nice to be complimented. Spain ruffled his hair affectionately before rising to his feet and sighing. "You're still in trouble for being rude to our guests though, Romano, I want you to write them both a letter of apology, ok?" Spain held the drawing lovingly in his hands and smiled as Romano nodded in silent agreement. "I don't want you to leave your room till you finish, but hurry so we can have some cake together before bedtime!" Spain realized he was too soft on the boy, but he couldn't help but coddle him when he acted so insecure.

Romano sniffed one last time before walking over to his desk and pulling out a piece of paper, "ok Bastard, then leave me alone so I can get it done!" He growled, for once not putting up an argument. Spain nodded and backed out of the room, whistling as he made his way back down the hall.

When Romano finally finished his letters, he pushed himself from his desk and scurried down to the kitchen, being careful to slow down and look as disinterested as possible when he reached the bottom of the stairs. "Spain, I'm done," he yelled as he padded towards the kitchen. He froze when he reached the doorway and stared wide-eyed at the wall.

"Do you like it?" Spain asked, turning from his job cutting the cake to smile at his lackey. He followed the boy's line of vision to the newly framed drawing on the wall, right above the kitchen counter. "Since this is where we spend most our day, I thought it'd be nice to have it here, so I can see it all the time!" Spain grinned.

Romano nodded slightly before walking up to his caregiver and burying his head into his pants leg. "Thank you," he mumbled, a silent tear falling down his cheek.