Chapter 6: Training
He knew it was a dream as soon as he saw Grandpa Rome. It was a dream, but also a memory.
"Feliciano, you stay here and be a good boy, now."
Feliciano looked up at his grandpa. "Why? Are you going somewhere?"
He nodded with that sad smile of his. "I need to find your big brother, remember? We talked about this. You'll be safe here."
Feliciano didn't want to be alone. He hated being alone. There was no one to talk to and no one to sing with. "Can't I come with you? I want to meet big brother, too." He'd heard lots of stories from Grandpa Rome about big brother Lovino and he sounded like a wonderful person. It didn't seem right that he had a big brother somewhere out there that he'd never even met. Feliciano envisioned that his big brother would be like a smaller Grandpa Rome – he would be strong and brave and he would always laugh. "What if big brother needs me?"
Grandpa Rome squatted down in front of Feliciano and drew him into a tight embrace. "Then you'll do your best to help him, always. You're my sweet grandson, my precious boy. When your big brother needs you, you'll be brave and you'll be smart and strong and you'll protect him – just like he'll protect you. That's what brothers do. Right now, though, you'll let me be the protector and you'll stay here where it's safe. Yes?"
"Yes, grandpa." Suddenly, he was tall - almost as tall as Grandpa Rome. He was silent when Grandpa Rome turned and walked away, but he wasn't unhappy. He wanted to be with his brother and Grandpa Rome never failed; he would bring big brother home.
"Now we welcome our champions!"
Feliciano started at the loud voice and turned in a full circle, trying to find who was shouting. But there was nothing but fog all around and sand under his feet. Sand? Yes, and the fog was lifting to reveal high stone walls. Over those walls, Feliciano could see people – thousands of people! - all cheering so loudly that it hurt Feliciano's ears. He wanted to runaway and cry, but there was nowhere to run to. A quick look around showed him that he was in a huge circle all surrounded by the stone walls and the people were still looking down at him and they were waved their hands and shouting and shouting.
With a sickening feeling of dread, he knew where he was – Grandpa Rome's Colosseum.
"Give your cheers to our first champion from the far east!"
Japan, dressed in the pretty robes he was so fond of, was there. He had one hand on that skinny sword he always carried with him, but stood straight and tall, without acknowledging the world around him at all.
"Japan!" Feliciano ran to Japan and hugged him. "I don't know what's going on, but I think it's a dream and if it's not a dream, then I think we might be in lots of trouble because the people up there don't look very nice and Grandpa Rome told me he had these places so his people could have fun watching other people die and I'm scared! I can't find my white flags. Where are my flags? Japan, help me find my flags, please."
It was as if Japan couldn't see him; like he was a statue made of flesh and bone rather than stone.
"Japan? Please? I need my flags."
But the loud voice spoke, again. "And a favorite of our audience, time after time, show your support for our reigning champion from the savage wilds of Germania!"
Germany was there and dressed in his best uniform with his rifle in his hands. He'd ironed it, too. There wasn't a single crease in it. There was something wrong about him standing in the arena of sand. He stood at attention, too, as if he were waiting for an inspection. Just like Japan, Germany didn't look at the crowds cheering or at Feliciano.
"And a local fighter, someone we all know!"
Lovino. He, too, was standing like a statue. But unlike the others, he was not dressed in clothing that Feliciano was used to see. Rather, he wore his old clothes. He was dressed head-to-toe in a long white gown with a white cap on his head. He had no weapons at all.
"And, of course, his brother!"
Feliciano was in his white robes, too. He hadn't worn them in years. He didn't want to wear them. He wanted his nice blue uniform or the clothes he wore when he helped Lovino in the fields or even his painting smock. He didn't want the white robe, it was too hard to keep clean. He remembered the day long ago that there had been a battle in which he couldn't remember who'd been fighting, only that there had been a lot of blood. There had been blood and people were crying and it hurt so much to see such pain that Feliciano had been desperate to do anything to stop all the pain. No one wanted to fight… so why did they? He'd never understood. None of the people who died or who'd been so badly wounded from the battle that they would never really heal, wanted to be there. And it was his fault.
Feliciano had felt an awful stab of guilt.
He didn't know much, but he'd known well-enough that everyone was fighting over him. There, in the mud on the battlefield, he'd stripped himself of the white robe and started waving it over his head – anything to get attention!
"I surrender! Stop fighting! I surrender!"
But, in the arena the white robe was back and it felt wrong. White was pure and clean – he'd been in too many wars to wear such a color. Blood. There was blood on his robe. Feliciano tried to wipe the blood away, but it only smeared more and it got all over his hands. "Germany?" He wiped some more, but the blood felt warm and he didn't know where it was coming from. He didn't feel hurt. "Germany, help. Germany!" He looked up and was suddenly distracted from the blood all over him.
They were surrounded.
All of his friends had moved so that they stood back-to-back in a circle. Their weapons were poised, aimed at the enemy surrounding them.
America, England, France, China, and Russia circled them and each one was armed.
As quickly as he could, Feliciano began tugging at his robe, but it wouldn't come off. He couldn't figure out why, but he couldn't get it off. He couldn't stop the battle. "No fighting!" He shouted it even as he struggled futilely to get the robe off. "Nobody fight!" He yanked so hard at the robe that he hurt his throat.
America took a long step towards Japan and, without reason, Japan dropped his sword and fell to his knees before he collapsed face first in the sand.
The audience went wild, cheering with abandon.
"No! Don't cheer; it's not good!" Feliciano looked up at the crowd. "He's hurt!"
But then France stepped towards Lovino and Lovino went down, just as Japan had.
"Germany, do something! Make them stop!" But then the enemy all stepped forward at the same time and Germany fell. His rifle hit the sand before he did.
Alone.
Feliciano was the only one standing and all of the enemy turned towards him.
"I don't want to fight!" No one was listening. "Grandpa! Grandpa Rome!"
There, in the Emperor's box, sat Grandpa Rome. He wore his toga and his bright red cape. With a smile, he watched the scene below and Feliciano, who had never doubted his place in Grandpa Rome's heart, was hurt by the look of amusement he wore as Feliciano's friends were struck low. "You have to fight for them, Feliciano," Grandpa Rome called down. "You're my grandson. You have to fight."
Feliciano was so scared, he thought he might wet himself. He had no weapons and he was smaller than all of the allies... and they were looking at him… moving closer and closer.
"Come on, Feliciano!" Grandpa Rome was standing and waving a fist over his head. "You can do it! They're not dead, yet! You can do it!"
Feliciano ran to Germany and fell on his knees. He shook Germany by the shoulders as hard as he could. "Wake up, please! Please! Germany, you have to wake up because everyone needs you and I'm scared and you promised you'd always be there to help me when I needed you and I need you, now! You have to wake up, please, please!" He was crying and could hardly see but he knew the allies – the enemies – were getting closer and Germany wasn't waking up. "Ludwig, please. Oh, please." Desperate, and without much thought at all, Feliciano grabbed Germany's fallen rifle. He knew how to use it. Germany had spent days drilling Feliciano on using it. And Feliciano, to protect the people he loved, did as he'd been taught. Without a mistake, hesitation or thought or doubt, he pulled the trigger.
Dead.
Everyone was dead and there was blood on the sand.
Feliciano stared around at what he'd done and let the rifle drop to the ground. He felt sick.
The sound of applauding made him look up. The stadium was empty of everyone but Grandpa Rome and he was clapping and smiling. "Just like me, my cute little grandson. You're just like me."
Feeling light-headed and faint, Feliciano went back down onto his knees at Germany's side and desperately trying not to look at the rifle. He petted Germany's face. "It's okay. You can wake up. You're safe, now." But Germany's skin was cool to the touch. With shaking fingers, Feliciano reached down and pressed his fingers against Germany's throat. Nothing.
Grandpa Rome had lied, again.
He'd said he would bring Lovino home to live with them. He'd said he wouldn't be gone long. He'd said that Feliciano's friends weren't dead. Lies.
Even as Feliciano ran his fingers through Germany's hair, Grandpa Rome appeared in front of Feliciano and smiled down at him. "It's alright. You don't need him anymore."
Feliciano shook his head.
"But you don't. You don't need any of them. You can take care of yourself, now." He picked up the rifle and held it out to Feliciano.
Though he didn't want the rifle, never even wanted to look at it, Feliciano stood and looked Grandpa Rome in the eyes. Without a word, he reached out and took the rifle…
…
…
…
Feliciano woke with a gasp.
The room was dark and familiar. It took him a minute to realize that it was Japan's guest room, He drew his knees up to his chest and just sat there, shaking for a long while. He wanted to go find Germany so badly, but some silly part of him was afraid that if he did, Germany would know what he'd done in his dream, he'd know that Feliciano had fired the rifle. How proud Germany would have been! It was what he'd always wanted – for Feliciano to be able to take care of himself. Feliciano didn't want Germany to know, didn't want to earn Germany's approval like that. He didn't want to fire the rifle. He didn't want to fight and, as much as he loved him, he didn't want to be like Grandpa Rome. If being able to take care of himself meant that he would be alone… then he would rather be helpless. He would sooner be stupid and foolish forever if that was what it took to keep his loved ones near.
Once he'd calmed himself enough to push the nightmare at least a little away from himself, Feliciano looked around the room. It was still early. The one window in the room showed that the sun hadn't even begun to rise, yet. Feliciano pulled the blankets up to his chin and stared at the ceiling. He didn't like the darkness and he certainly didn't like being alone. The bed was small, but it felt huge without the warmth of another body next to him. He rolled to one side and saw Lovino's sleeping form in the bed on the other side of the room. Lovino's soft snoring was a comfort, but, for once, Feliciano didn't creep into his brother's bed. Instead, he suddenly smiled and slipped out of bed.
Awake… without Germany waking him up!
He was so very pleased that he'd finally have done something that Germany would be proud of. Why, he was awake so early that probably even Germany was still asleep! Just imagine – he could be the one to wake Germany up, for once. Wake up time, sleepyhead, he would say while shaking Germany's shoulder. Can't sleep all day. Time to train. And Germany would smile at him, pet him on the head, and praise him for being so responsible.
Germany would be in Japan's living room, undoubtedly, where he always bedded down on the floor when they visited Japan. Japan had offered, many times, to get another bed or to even add a room onto his house for Germany, but Germany had insisted that he was quite comfortable sleeping on the floor.
Feliciano stretched his arms over his head and, as quietly as he could, retrieved his overnight bag from where he had left it by the door. It was hard as he couldn't see well in the dark, but he didn't want to wake up Lovino, who was a much lighter sleeper. He took his bag into the hallway and turned the hall light on only when the guest room's door was safely closed behind him. There, he pulled out underclothes, socks, and a shirt then re-checked the bundle twice to make sure he had everything. His shirt was wrinkled, though, and it made him pout, but, he assured himself, Germany would be happy that he remembered all of his clothes and that would definitely make up for wrinkles!
He dressed in the hall and smoothed down his clothes the best that he could. Perhaps, just maybe, even Lovino would be pleased with him.
Stupid little brother.
Feliciano could hear Lovino's scoffing. No. He wouldn't be impressed by something so trifling as getting dressed. It would take something much grander to get his attention and Feliciano knew that he would probably never manage it. It was doubly hard considering that Feliciano had never been able to learn what would make Lovino happy.
He shook his head. No point in worrying over it. He knew he wasn't very smart. But he did his best, always, and someday his big brother would see that. Someday, Lovino would stop yelling and he would stop being angry and sad and scared… someday. And then, when he did, maybe he'd love Feliciano enough to tell him how, because Feliciano really wanted to stop being scared, too. He wanted to walk through a crowd without Germany next to him and not be afraid. He wanted to stop crying for people who were never going to be coming back to him. He wanted to stop that festering anger that he worked so hard to keep secret – the anger that Grandpa Rome had taken him away and then just left him all alone. But first, he'd decided long ago, he would help Lovino because he loved his big brother and wanted him to be happy more than he wanted himself to be happy. Just like Germany. He wanted Germany to be happy – to smile and, maybe, to laugh. Germany was so wonderful that he deserved that kind of happiness.
Feliciano went very still. He'd have given anything to have them both be happy, but… he couldn't stop the pain in his heart when he had to admit to himself that he knew how they could both be happy. He'd known since that Valentine's Day when Germany had pulled out a tomato-shaped ring that he knew the perfect way to make them both happy.
At the very bottom of his bag, Feliciano found his notebook and his pencil. He never went anywhere without them and it was one of the few secrets he kept from Germany. He sat in the hall with his back resting against a wall as he opened the notebook and flipped through it until he found a blank page and started to draw.
He drew the sandy arena from his nightmare and he knew the rifle he'd been holding. He drew the look in France's eyes when he'd made Lovino fall and once he filled a whole page with all the scary parts of his nightmare, he turned the page with a smile and started to draw birds. He'd always rather liked birds. When that page was filled with feathers and beaks and small, black eyes, he closed his notebook and put it back in the bag only to take out a different notebook. He didn't like that one nearly so well, but it was important. Germany said it was important and Japan had agreed with Germany. Once again, he searched for an empty page and then, with the pencil tightly gripped in his hand, he began to write. Over and over he practiced writing. Germany had given him the notebook not long after they'd met and told Feliciano that it wasn't terribly important what he wrote, so long as he practiced until he could write well. So Feliciano spent time each days writing down whatever sprung to mind and was very careful to go slow and make it as neat as possible.
"Veneziano-kun," Japan was suddenly there, at the other end of the hall, wearing his nightclothes that looked so very much like the fancy robes he like. "I didn't expect to see you awake so early. Is anything wrong?"
"Nope." Feliciano closed his notebook and put it away. He hadn't even noticed the breaking dawn. "Are you happy?"
Japan blinked, then gave that soft little smile he always wore when he was humoring Feliciano. "Shouldn't I be?"
"I want everyone to be happy and I just decided how I'm going to make big brother and Germany happy. Now I need to know what to do for you."
"I'm quite content the way I am." Japan looked thoughtful as he moved gracefully towards Feliciano. "And as for Germany, I think that Germany is happy when you are happy."
"But-"
"And your brother, I think, is going through a rough time. We will all be here if he needs us. Sometimes, that's all we can do unless he decides to ask for help. When he has worked through this hard time of his, he will be happy, too."
"But big brother doesn't ask for help – not with important things. And I really want him to be happy now." He paused and rubbed his toe against the floor, suddenly unsure. "Japan, it's good, isn't it? If I know a way to make them both happy, it would be good to do it, right? No matter how much I don't like it. I think it would be. I'm pretty sure. Yes! Yes, I'm sure. So long as everyone's happy, it'll work out. Now I just have to worry about you, Japan." Feliciano took Japan's hands and pulled him closer. "I'll make you happy, too, and don't say you're content. That's not the same thing as being happy, but don't you worry - I'll work on it and I'll think of something!"
"Now, really, Veneziano-kun-"
"And you should call me Feliciano; everyone else does and it would be really nice if you did, too. Besides, we're friends, right?"
Japan blushed, but that tiny smile of his crept out, again. "I am honored, Feliciano-kun."
"Good! Good! I have to… ah! Germany!"
In the hallway, Germany, looking exhausted, stood. He rubbed his eyes, then stared at Felicano and started to blush, as he so often did. "Where are your trousers?"
Feliciano looked down at his bare legs and felt like crying. Trousers! "Sorry! Sorry!" He grabbed his bag and dashed back into the bedroom and closed the door behind him before he leaned his back against it. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't get it right! The trousers were on the floor, near where his overnight bag had been. They must have fallen out when he'd tossed his bag on the floor before going to bed.
He was just zipping up his trousers when there was a knock on the door. Germany poked his head into the room. "Are you ready?"
"I'm ready. Look." He held his arms out at his side and turned around for inspection. "Good?"
He could tell that Germany was amused by him by the way his eyes smiled. Most people smiled with their lips, but as Germany's mouth never seemed to want to smile, so his eyes made up for it. Not everyone could see it, but Feliciano could.
"Very good." Germany said. "But put your training uniform on after breakfast. I told you this wasn't going to be an excuse for you to skip out of training."
"Right! No problem. I'm ready to run."
"No." Germany said. "No running, this time. I know you can run like a champion, so it's time to do something different."
"What sort of different? Is it something fun? Something hard? I don't like doing hard things. They're too hard. You're not going to make me do something like jumping over rivers or fighting with bears, are you? I don't think I could fight a bear, not even a cub, because, you know, they have teeth and claws and big feet and fur and they're really scary." He started to dig his training clothes out of his bag, but turned around when he heard Germany say,
"Wake up, Lovino. It's morning."
Of course Lovino only snorted and rolled away from Germany. Germany frowned and shook Lovino's shoulder. "Go away." Lovino muttered. He tried to pull the blanket over his head, but Germany caught it. "Leave me alone."
"No. It is time to get up. Now."
Lovino said something that was, to say the very least, rude.
Feliciano gasped.
Germany scowled and, without turning away from Lovino, said, "Feliciano, go have some breakfast with Japan."
"Yes. Okay. Right." He hurriedly pulled his training clothes out of his bag and started out the door.
"Feliciano."
"Yes?"
"Don't come back. You stay out there until I come out, understand?"
Feliciano looked at the shape of his big brother under the blankets and then at Germany. "Why not?"
"Because I said so."
"That's a funny reason."
"Just go." Germany finally turned from Lovino and looked at Feliciano. The smile was gone from his eyes. "Now."
Feliciano didn't like it, but Germany was always right. He never made mistakes and he always knew what was best for everyone whether that meant what they should eat or how much to train or when bed time should be. He was never, ever wrong. So Feliciano nodded, "Okay."
Germany-
It was a long time coming and Germany knew that it was a good time as any. Really, Spain was to blame. He should have reined Lovino in when he was young. Did he think he was doing Lovino any favors by ignoring such behavior?
The moment the door closed behind Feliciano Germany took hold of the blanket covering Lovino and yanked.
"Hey! What are you doing? You-"
Germany put a hand over Lovino's mouth and leaned close enough that he could make sure Lovino was looking at him. "Before you cuss at me, let me inform you of the rule that you will follow while you are under my care. You will show me no disrespect. If you treat me with such insolence as you've shown in the past, you will be disciplined. If you cuss, you will get your mouth washed out with soap. Do you understand?"
As Germany expected, when he took his hand off Lovino's mouth, Lovino let loose with a few choice words and an attempt to kick Germany. Lovino roared, "You can't make me respect you, you ass!"
"True, but I can teach you to act respectfully and to use your sense." Steeling himself, Germany rolled up his sleeves. "When you come upon someone bigger than yourself and when that bigger person happens to be well-known for violence, it would be wise for you to speak politely to them rather than be mouthy. Name-calling is childish. This is your warning - the only one you'll get. If you are disrespectful to me, you will," Germany paused. It wouldn't go over well, but he couldn't think of any other way to solve Lovino's overactive mouth. He only knew what his big brother had used with him when he'd been a child and started to spout sass. "You will earn a spanking."
Lovino's eyes grew wide. "You wouldn't!" When Germany said nothing and just stared at him, Lovino turned red. "You can't!"
"I do not make idle threats." Germany sighed and rubbed his eyes. "You are my ally, but right now you and your mouth are a threat not only to yourself but to me, Japan, and your little brother. We all have enough trouble without inviting more for ourselves. As your ally, it's my responsibility to help you – whether you want help or not." With Lovino protesting all the while, Germany pulled Lovino over his lap. It was only to be expected that Lovino have an even more energetic than usual tantrum and Germany let him have it, waiting patiently until Lovino wore himself out. He didn't mind waiting. Prussia had always been patient when Germany had been a child and needed some discipline, after all. Thankfully, he'd never had to do much of a serious lesson for Feliciano and he suspected that he had Hungry to thank for that. Austria was far too soft to deal out discipline, but Hungry understood the necessity of it. When Lovino had seemed to use up all of his energy, Germany began the discipline.
He wasn't excessively harsh, at least he didn't think so, and it was only ten swats. Those ten were quite enough to start Lovino bawling. He kicked and swung his arms futilely as he swore in Italian between sobs. After the swats and after Lovino had at least marginally settled, Germany put Lovino back to bed and covered him back up with the blanket. "You must remember this lesson. Always think before you speak. I will not allow you to endanger yourself."
Lovino sniffled noisily and shook his head without speaking with his face buried in his pillow.
Germany didn't like it when people cried at him. He never knew what to do. Shouting only ever made it worse and no matter what he tried to say, it never seemed to do any good. So, again, he followed the example of the only role model he'd ever had – Prussia – and repeated the sweet words that had long ago made his tears stop when whispered by his adored big brother. "Don't be a wimp. Someday, with enough discipline, you'll be a force for the whole world to reckon with. Everyone will run screaming when they hear your name. Mass panic will ensue wherever you go."
Lovino just cried harder.
Damn.
In hindsight, he should have known not to try gentle words. Of course it wouldn't work as it was coming from him.
With no other ideas about how to comfort someone, Germany resorted to just resting a hand on Lovino's shaking back. His shoulders slumped and he gave up trying to think of anything clever or comforting. "Look at it this way – you learn how to control yourself and you can do a better job of protecting your little brother. That's what you really want, isn't it? You're too important to risk getting killed for some foolish reason."
Lovino trembled, slapped both hands on the bed and pushed himself up to yell, "Not important! Not!" Then he fell back down onto the bed, but it seemed that his words had broken some dam inside of him and the words couldn't stop. "Not important. Not wanted. No one cares. Even grandpa... he left me… just… left." And after that Lovino broke down into more uncontrollable crying. "Grandpa Rome left and Spain wanted to give me away and now he… he…"
"You are important to your brother. You want to be strong for him, don't you? To be strong, you must be able to control yourself."
There were times when Germany felt entirely over his head and most of those situations involved Italy in some shape or form. This time was no different. He could understand why Lovino was so upset – Germany had obviously been much harsher than he'd meant to be and Lovino now had good reason to be afraid of him. It wasn't like when he'd been a child and his big brother had done such things to teach him. No, Prussia wasn't in the least bit scary and only ever did what was needed in order to take care of Germany. Though Germany had only intended to do good, Lovino was bound to be even more afraid of Germany than before. Germany had half expected that the situation would turn out in such a way when he'd resolved to do what Spain should have done for Lovino a long time ago, but that didn't mean that he liked it. Still, Lovino had to learn some control or he would end up getting himself into a mess bigger than he could handle. He would find himself tangling with someone like America or Russia, someone who really could destroy him. No matter. Let Lovino hate and fear him – that really didn't matter. If a few swats was what it took for Lovino to learn to keep himself safe, then Germany knew he had nothing to be sorry for.
So, he just sat with Lovino and kept patting his back and ended up muttering nonsense that he knew would make him seem all the more foolish to Lovino. "Hush. It's alright. You're safe here. Nothing to worry about." Then he added something Austria had always told him. "It's okay to cry." When that did nothing, Germany muttered, "I'm sorry that I hurt you."
Lovino hiccupped and turned his head just enough to scowl up at Germany. "You think you're some kind of bad, don't you? I've had worse beatings from France."
Now that was just insulting.
Germany stayed there until Lovino had fallen sound asleep. The way he'd thrashed about and hollered, it really wasn't a surprise that he needed more sleep and Germany decided to give him an extra hour or so. He could take Feliciano for that walk around Japan's gardens while they waited for Lovino. That thought brought a tiny smile to his face.
Feliciano-
It was nearly noon before Lovino was out of bed and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, like he'd been crying, and he kept shooting unhappy looks at Germany.
"You look like you ate something nasty, big brother," Feliciano said. "What was it?"
"German soap. Stop hanging on me."
After everyone had eaten and had changed into their training outfits, Germany took everyone out to Japan's backyard and told Feliciano sit with Japan before he started Lovino's training. It was scary to see someone as big as Germany standing face-to-face with Lovino, who was no bigger than Feliciano, but it would all work out. Germany wouldn't hurt Lovino just to hurt him and whatever training Germany had in mind would surely be good for Lovino.
"I don't like the uniform." Lovino wrinkled his nose at the shirt with 'Trooper #3' embroidered onto the front of it. "Tacky. Just awful. Don't you have any sense of style? I mean, honestly, I wouldn't have worn this when I was an infant."
"The style doesn't matter," Germany grumbled. He didn't bother to hide his hands and Feliciano was able to see that his fingertips were covered in bandages. Obviously, he'd made Lovino's uniform himself. Perhaps, he'd made Feliciano's uniform, too. "It's a matter of order. Now, put these on." He tossed a pair of boxing gloves to Lovino.
Lovino's eyes grew wide as he caught the gloves. "What?"
"Put them on. You've got a lot of fighting spirit; you just need to learn how to use it."
Thrilled at the sight of his big brother even holding the gloves, Feliciano couldn't help himself and ran to Lovino. "Let me help!" He tried shoving one of the gloves on Lovino's hand, which worked well enough until Lovino started pulling away.
"I can do it myself! I don't need any help!"
"Just let me tie the laces, come on! I can do it! I've been practicing with my shoelaces for weeks, now. Haven't I been doing well, Germany?"
"Very, but the telephone is ringing. Why don't you go answer it for Japan? He's been a good host, so we should help him, ja?"
Feliciano hadn't even noticed the phone ringing until then. "Right, Germany! I'll get it!" He didn't turn back towards them until he reached the door and when he did turn back he saw Germany tugging the laces of the boxing gloves tight on Lovino. With his free hand, Lovino pointed at the tomato ring Germany wore on a chain around his neck. Germany blushed and tucked the ring inside his shirt before he cast a quick look at Feliciano, then went back to tying Lovin's gloves up.
With a sad smile, Feliciano ran to answer the phone. "Hello. You've reached Japan's house, this is Italy. Do you have a kitty? Everyone should. Or maybe a doggie. I like those, too."
"Italy! Is Romano there? Please, if he's around, I really need to talk to him."
The smile faded from Feliciano's face. "Hello, Spain. Ah… big brother is busy."
"But he's there? He's safe?"
"Of course he's safe." Feliciano looked out the window to where Germany was demonstrating to Lovino how to hit with the boxing gloves. To do it, he made a slow-motion move and lightly tapped Lovino with it. "Germany's hitting him."
The scream that resounded over the telephone was so piercing that Feliciano dropped the phone. "Spain? Did you hurt yourself?"
"Germany is hitting my Romano? And Japan's just letting it happen?" Spain started to swear and Feliciano suddenly realized where Lovino had learned most of his naughty words. "That does it! I don't care if Germany has a whole arsenal; I'm coming right over!"
"No," Feliciano said. "Everything's good here. Big brother isn't even crying anymore." He'd been alarmed when he'd first heard the crying and yelling from the room where he'd left Germany with his big brother. Then he'd remembered that he, too, often yelled and cried, but he always felt safe with Germany around, so no matter what was upsetting Lovino, he knew that Germany would take care of it. And he had. The crying had stopped and Germany said he even let Lovino have more time to sleep.
"He was crying?" Spain sounded almost as if he would cry, too. "Did you give him a hug? He says he doesn't like them, but they always make him feel better. Why was he crying, anyway?"
"Gee. I don't know. I wasn't in the room with him and Germany when big brother was crying. Big brother was in bed when Germany came in and Germany told me I should leave the room and not come back until he was done with big brother. When big brother did come out of his room, he'd stopped crying so I suppose Germany must have given him a hug. Germany's really nice like that. In fact, I'll bet he gave big brother lots of hugs and did other things that made him feel better." Maybe he told Lovino a story; that always made Feliciano feel better when he was unhappy.
Spain groaned. "No. No. No. Please, tell Romano that I need to talk to him. If he can't get away from Germany right now, then I'll meet him somewhere."
Feliciano just kept watching the boxing lesson, outside. Lovino was keeping his hands up and hesitantly jabbing when Germany encouraged him to. Japan, still sitting nearby, also gave his soft spoken support. "I don't think that would be a good idea, Spain."
"What? Why not?"
"What did you do to my big brother?"
"I don't know."
"You did something. He was so upset. I don't like seeing big brother so unhappy."
"I swear to you, Italy, I don't know what happened. I was drinking and I can't remember much afterwards. When I woke up he was angry and wouldn't talk to me and he left to go to your house that day. I need to talk to him to find out what happened. I'll apologize for whatever it was that I did."
"I don't think that's a very good idea. I think big brother will be happy with Germany."
"With Germany? What are you talking about?"
"Well, Germany's in love with Lovino and I think Lovino's starting to like him, too. I know – surprise, huh? I didn't even know until I saw the tomato ring that Germany keeps. Everyone knows that big brother loves tomatoes, so Germany must have made it for big brother."
The proposal on Valentine's Day had been a pretty obvious mistake. Feliciano had known that Germany made a mistake the minute he saw the ring. A tomato ring. A ring that had clearly made just for Lovino. Only Germany, like so many others, had made a mistake and thought that Feliciano was Lovino. He wasn't altogether sure how such a mistake had happened because Germany was so much smarter than everyone else, but somehow he must have invited Feliciano to the restaurant instead of Lovino and then confused the two of them. They did look an awful look alike, but Feliciano had thought that Germany would have known the difference. Yes, it was all pretty clear. Why would he get a tomato ring for Feliciano, after all? With Germany holding out the ring and then hugging Feliciano, Feliciano had suddenly realized the mistake and that realization had hurt… badly. When he'd met Japan later, he hadn't even wanted to talk about it. And afterwards, Germany had acted so embarrassed and had never mentioned it, again. He must have known what a big mistake he'd made and felt humiliated. As time had gone on, Feliciano found that he couldn't stop showing his affection for Germany, even though he'd known that Germany wouldn't return it. He'd given kisses and hugs and even sat on Germany's lap once or twice; he just couldn't help himself. He would have to stop the flirting, he told himself. If he wanted to be fair to both Germany and Lovino, then he would have to let them flirt with each other. "And now that big brother is living with us, he's going to get to see how strong and kind and pretty Germany is, so he'll fall in love, too. They'll both be happy."
"But… but…"
"I'm going to hang up now because I'm not happy with you; I think you shouldn't see big brother anymore until you can be nice to him. If he wants to talk to you, he'll call you." Feliciano was about to hang up, ignoring Spain's outraged spluttering and pleas, when a thought occurred to him and he quickly added, "When Germany and big brother get married, do you want to come to the wedding?" He hung up when Spain started to cry.
As he went back out to the yard, Feliciano wanted to cry, too. As much as he wanted them both to be happy, he wanted to be the one that Germany was in love with.
Lovino was sweating heavily and panting for breath by the time Feliciano sat back down beside Japan on the grass. He looked angry and frustrated as he kept trying to hit Germany.
"Don't just swing, think!" Germany told Lovino. He, too, had donned his boxing gloves and jabbed at Lovino, only making contact lightly once in a while. "Swinging blindly won't get you anything but tired. Move your feet, you don't want to be a sitting target, do you?"
Feliciano clapped his hands and whistled. "Yay, big brother! Show him how tough Italians are!"
Although he chuckled quietly at Feliciano's enthusiasm, Japan also did his share of cheering. He would occasionally advising, "Keep calm, Romano-kun. Don't let yourself get upset."
On and on the training went until, all of a sudden, everything stopped.
Somewhere in Japan's garden, a cricket sang.
Feliciano forgot to breathe.
Japan sat wide-eyed and frozen.
Even Germany had gone very still.
As for Lovino, he stared in disbelieve at his hand… his hand that had made contact with Germany's chest. "I… I did it?" He licked his lips and pulled his gloved hand away from Germany and held it up to his face, as if he couldn't quite believe what he'd done. "I did it? I hit him?" A broad smile broke out across his face and Feliciano smiled just to see it; it was so rare to see Lovino honestly happy. "I did it!" The training forgotten, he swung around and beamed at Feliciano. "Did you see it? Did you see me? I did it!" He laughed and ran to Feliciano, so delighted with what he'd done that, for the first time in a long time, he threw his arms around Feliciano and hugged him tightly. "I hit Germany! I did it." His face quickly became wet with happy tears even as he laughed. "I can fight! I'm not weak!"
"I'm so proud of you!" Feliciano hugged Lovino back and kissed his cheek. "You're so strong and Germany told me that training only makes people stronger. I knew you could do it, I just knew it!"
To be continued…
Dear readers, I'd like to thank everyone who's reviewed this story up until now. I appreciate it all.
Just a note, I'm very proud to announce that I've published my first novel, Grey Mora, as E-Book.