Alright, before we get down to business here, I'd like to give a shoutout to my friend, ClearAsCrystal269: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MON AMI! *shoots out confetti* I hope you're having a great day :D
And for those of you who don't know, Clear writes some bombtastic PruCan and Giripan stories so go check them out ^^
Many more years passed and Romano wasn't that tiny chibi boy anymore nor was he that teenage boy struggling to grow up. He was a tall, lanky young man with the same fiery attitude that he was known for, except with a couple more words in his already colorful vocabulary. However, the main difference about him wasn't visible; he wasn't a colony anymore. After an abundant amount of years being politically separated from his younger brother, Romano and Veneziano were going to be unified.
And this means that he didn't have to live with anyone anymore—not Austria, not Spain…
Living with Austria had been hell, but all of that changed when the Napoleonic rule ended and the Congress of Vienna began; as a result, Romano and Veneziano were struggling to unify their divided nation. Needless to say, Spain took the news as expected.
Lovino had yelled at Antonio when the bastard had actually burst into tears upon seeing him packing some of his leftover stuff that he had accidentally left behind at the Spaniard's place (no, he didn't leave them there on purpose when he moved to Austria's just so he could have an excuse to come back…nope, he honestly and legitimately forgot about them…) and blubbered on about how he was going to miss his tomate and how his 'Roma' was all grown up. The Italian would have none of that and promptly snapped at him to get himself together before begrudgingly promising to send him a letter the moment he got himself situated at his home in Italy. After a lot more tears and a suffocating hug from Spain, Romano managed to detach himself from his former caretaker and left for home.
After riding in a carriage for several days, he had finally arrived. His house was magnificent. Lovino was rather impressed by the structure from what he could see from the outside, yet knew he and his brother would be doing a lot to make it more cozy and welcoming. Already, he could imagine Feliciano planting several pretty flowers all around their front lawn and painting the dull brown door a different color.
Upon entering the empty house, Romano discovered that it was basically barren of personal touches, and he knew that Veneziano would immediately insist that they go shopping for proper furniture, kitchen supplies, sheets, clothing, and other similar items and would begin composing paintings to set up on their walls. Looking out the window now, Romano saw a huge backyard that was begging to be filled with life, and he decided that a tomato garden was necessary, maybe even a swimming pool.
After taking a tour around the house, examining each and every room, Romano stopped at the room that was supposed to be his and sat on the bed. It was covered in white sheets and had a rather thin pillow. The room itself had nothing but the bed, a desk, and four blank walls washed white, giving it a rather hollow vibe to it. The young Italian sighed. Veneziano wasn't supposed to arrive until later so he was alone for the time being. The feeling was…odd.
Living with both Spain and Austria meant that he was hardly ever alone, and when he was, he still heard the familiar noises of servants and other people bustling about. Since their unification was still fairly new, he and Feliciano had yet to hire anyone; moreover, with the finances they now possessed, they wouldn't be able to afford very many. Lovino supposed that that was to be expected, since they were a country getting their fresh start.
Speaking of, he and Italy needed to discuss a few things regarding how they were going to operate their country; who should be in charge, what to do about their fragile economy, who they should and shouldn't trade with, how they were going to pay for certain things…
If Romano had to be perfectly honest with himself, he was a bit apprehensive about being on his own. He knew it took a lot of responsibility to run a country and even with Veneziano around (who was practically useless half the time), it was going to be a lot of work and a lot of pressure. All his life, he was a colony, forced to follow under someone's orders (not that he really listened anyways) and was often fought over; his only real worries were of being conquered and taken away or of squirrels wetting his bed or of running into something and making a mess of things.
How the hell was he supposed to run a country practically by himself? What if the economy crashed? What if one of the other countries decided to pick a fight with him and Veneziano? What if their people are so unhappy that they start a civil war and the whole country descends into anarchy and chaos?
Just before his fears could completely consume him, Romano pulled out a familiar slab of silver from his pocket and squeezed it close. There, that's better—he was starting to feel calmer already. As the panic began to clear from his mind, he started to think more logically and came to a conclusion: he was being such a whiny little shit right now. There was no way in hell that he was just going to sit there, curled up, and feeling sorry for himself and worrying about crap that he could deal with in his sleep (because he definitely can, he's just that bad ass!).
Determination now pumping through his veins, Romano sat up, shoved the chunk of silver in his pocket, and walked out of the room. If this place was going to be his home from then on, he and his brother were going to need provisions. He went shopping and brought back groceries to fill their empty kitchen. By the time Feliciano arrived, Lovino had cooked up a lot of steaming, mouth-watering pasta with freshly baked garlic bread as well as some paella on the side (Spain had taught him the recipe and Romano was proud to say that he nailed it). The smell of a delicious home-cooked meal wafted throughout the house and made the place seem a lot less empty and a lot more welcoming.
As Romano and Veneziano ate, his younger brother prattling on about some shit about decorating or another, something occurred to him: he could do this. He was the Southern half of Italy, dammit! He could do anything and if the world had a problem with that, fuck them! He'll take on all invaders who dare threaten his country, and he'll win! He'll blow away any deficit his nation will face, and he'll show the other countries that they better not fuck with him or his fratello or else they'll suffer!
More importantly, he'll make Spain proud…not that he cares about what the tomato bastard thinks anyways…
{~/~/~}
Spain was practically hopping in his seat as his chauffeur drove him through the beautiful countryside in Italy. He was going to surprise his Lovi with a visit, and he couldn't wait. Home just wasn't the same without his tomate stomping around, cursing, stuffing his puffy cheeks with pizza and tomatoes, and waking him up with his usual head-butt. Though the two still kept in touch through letters, Antonio wanted to be able to hug Lovino, pinch his cheeks, and even hear the other swearing at him in the flesh.
Beaming at the thought, he watched the scenery rush past him in a swirl of lush emerald-green. The horse-drawn carriage jolted over a few rocks, but Spain didn't mind so as long as it didn't mess up his gifts. Just to show that he had been thinking about his former charge, the Spaniard decided to bring a basket full of the ripest tomatoes he grew in the garden as well as a bottle of some his country's best wine.
He jubilantly looked at the gifts and wondered how Romano would react upon his unexpected visit. He hoped that Lovi would be at least somewhat happy to see him and maybe just a little bit homesick. In fact, he kind of kept his fingers crossed for the latter since it would not only mean a lovely trip down memory lane, but it would give Spain an even better reason for giving him yet another gift.
Antonio reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He undid the folds and smoothed out the creases and glanced over the painting of his tomato garden with fondness. The Spaniard marveled over how talented Lovino was at the time, and he wondered how much he's improved in the years. He loved this picture and even now he looks at it before he falls asleep at night, especially when he had to give up Romano to Austria and when his ex-colony became independent.
Bearing this in mind, he was almost sad to give it back, but he figured that Lovi might need it more than he does. Judging by his letters, the Italian seemed to struggling a bit with running the country and is constantly frustrated with Feliciano running off to flirt with women and with the mafia doing as they pleased. Spain sympathized and sensed that maybe his tomate was also a bit homesick (not that he'd ever admit that of course, the once-conquistador knew his former colony very well).
Antonio often sought out comfort from the painting and figured that perhaps Lovino can too; maybe it could give the younger man a piece of home, and whenever he looks at it, it could bring back nice memories of being a cute little colony.
I think Roma could use a little slice of the past~
He nodded to himself as if in confirmation and was brought out of his thoughts when the carriage suddenly came to a stop. Realizing that he had arrived, Spain brightly smiled, collected his things, and stepped out of the carriage.
He thanked his chauffeur and strolled down the trail leading to a rather magnificent-looking three-story house made of rustic light brown bricks, a darker brown for the roof shingles, tan-shaded window panes, a wooden door painted a vibrant red, and a balcony resting on the second floor. For a moment, the image of Spain playing his guitar right below that balcony and Romano standing up there listening to him play came to mind, and he grew giddy at the thought of surprising Lovi with a sweet Spanish song or even an upbeat Italian folk song that has people dancing the Tarantella.
The Spaniard began whistling a tune as he got closer to the door. Oh, it's been way too long since I've seen my tomate~ I hope Romano's not too homesick. Antonio glanced at the picture in his hand and smiled. This will definitely cheer him up~
Once he approached the door, Spain placed the picture into the basket of tomatoes and raised his free hand to knock on the door. However, before flesh could connect with wood, he heard something loudly crash from within the house that made him flinch. Then he became aware of a bunch of shouting.
"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE, ASSHOLES!"
That sounded like Romano.
Spain's heart immediately raced as the thought of Romano getting attacked entered his mind, and he whipped out his battle axe, dropping the basket and his eyes blazing with fury. If some cabrón thinks he can hurt Lovi… With a dark, protective aura surrounding him, Antonio kicked down the door and raised his axe…
Only to be shoved aside by two shady-looking men who scrambled to get out of the house. They practically tripped over their own feet, whimpering with fear, and dashed as far away from Lovino's house as possible. Antonio blinked after their retreating forms, confused, and turned around to see South Italy storming over, appearing to be chasing after those strange characters with a rock in his hand and poised as if he were going to throw it. Lovino didn't seem injured and looked more pissed off than his usual grumpiness.
Not noticing the other nation, Romano stomped onto the smashed down door and yelled after the running men. "AND DON'T COME BACK YOU BASTARDS! TELL YOUR GODDAMNED BOSS THAT I TOLD HIM TO GO FUCK HIMSELF AND TO LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE! AND SO HELP ME GOD IF I CATCH YOU FUCKERS AROUND HERE AGAIN THEN I'LL SHOVE DOG SHIT DOWN YOUR FUCKING THROATS!" His threat seemed to frighten the men further because they somehow gained more speed and were out of sight within seconds.
For a moment, neither of the two countries moved; Romano was fuming with rage while Spain just stood there, staring at his former colony with awe. Eventually, the older man regained himself and quirked a small smile of disbelief and bemusement. "Dog shit, Roma?"
It was like Lovino just realized that he wasn't alone because he whipped around, startled. Once he recognized who it was, his shock disappeared and was replaced with irritation. "Spain? What the hell are you doing here, bastard?" He then, for some reason, hurriedly shoved that rock into his pocket before the other could really look at it. It seemed to be exceptionally shiny though, especially for some ordinary rock…
Brushing that aside, Antonio brightly smiled upon being faced with his former charge's usual attitude, finding it reassuring. "I was coming here on a surprise visit, Lovi~ I even brought gifts!" He gestured down to the discarded basket, happy to see that most of the tomatoes were fine, the wine bottle was still intact, and the picture was safe. "I didn't realize you had company though. Who were those guys?"
Lovino frowned at the reminder. "No one—just a couple of asswipes from the mafia."
The Spaniard's eyes widened, unsettled. "Those men were from the mafia?" His grip instinctively tightened on his axe.
"Sì, they were."
"What did they want? They didn't hurt you, did they?" His forest-green orbs swept over his Roma's form, trying to spot any damages and already calculating how long it would take for him to track down those vermin and 'return the favor' tenfold.
Fortunately, Romano shook his head. "Nah, they didn't hurt me…stop looking at me like that, dammit! I said I'm fine!"
Spain decided to take his word for it and nodded. "Well, that's good. So, why were they here anyways?"
"Those jerks tried to threaten me to influence some policies in their favor." He dryly scoffed in annoyance. "I was having a shitty morning as it was without those assholes adding to it so they were damn lucky I went easy on them." Spain took a quick glance into the Italian's house and noticed several broken items, without a doubt thrown at or smashed over someone's head by Romano. Noticing where he was looking, the Italian added, "Ignore all that; I'll get that shit cleaned later." Then he happened to notice the door and grumbled, "Dammit, Feli and I just painted that door."
The Spaniard smiled rather sheepishly and decided that it was probably best not to mention that he was the one to kick down the door and opted to focus on the house instead. "You sure look like you did a number on them. It's no wonder they were as scared as they were."
Romano snorted. "Damn right! Now they know better than to mess with me, those bastards!"
Spain couldn't help but chuckle at the familiarity of the Italian's fiery attitude. "I doubt they will with the way they ran off like that." Then he paused and asked, "No offense, but how did you do it, anyways?"
Lovino raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"Well…" Antonio awkwardly rubbed the back of his head, "again, no offense, but you never were a fighter…" How often had he seen Romano cower behind him or dash away with unnatural speed whenever France, Turkey, or a German was nearby?
As expected, Romano's entire face flushed his customary shade of ripe, autumn-scarlet, and he snapped, "What the hell is that supposed to mean, jerk?!"
"U-um…"
"Never mind, don't answer that! You don't know a damn thing about what you're talking about! I can be a fighter!"
"Err…"
"Shut up! I can! It's just that…I only fight when it really matters, dammit! Today was a good example! The mafia had just been bugging me for so long that I got pissed! They had no right to try and order me and Feliciano around and terrorize our people! I was bound to snap and those asshats were in the line of fire! I mean seriously, who the hell do they think they are?! It's one thing to mess with me, but to threaten Feli and our citizens too…they just took that shit too damn far!"
While Romano was ranting and fuming, Spain watched him with wonder and imagined him unleashing all that rage upon those men. If it was as explosive as he assumed it was, then it would definitely explain the state of the house.
Spontaneously, he was unexpectedly brought back to the day when he was speaking with some German soldiers for political purposes. Little Chibi Romano had suddenly darted forward, head-butted the soldier closest to Spain, and began pushing the other man away before resorting to wild punches. The Spaniard nation had been embarrassed and confused by his colony's behavior, yet later learned that Romano had thought that he was being attacked by those German soldiers and had only wanted to protect him. He had found it touching and endearing at the time and still did.
For some reason, he felt that that particular event somehow related to this one, if only in the way that Romano had found the courage to fight for someone else because he cared for them.
I guess he really did care about me…even if it's just a little bit.
After a few moments, Lovino started to calm down and had reduced his raging to some annoyed, incoherent grumbles. A soft smile touched upon Antonio's lips as he commented, "Feliciano and your people are really lucky to have you, you know that?" And so am I~
Romano glared at him. "Shut up, tomato bastard."
Cocking his head to the side, Spain reflectively remarked, "Some things will never change with you~ I like it though."
The Italian spluttered with indignation before he finally settled for a glare and for changing the subject. "Why the hell did you say you were here again, idiota?" Romano inquired, driving Spain off of memory lane.
Antonio immediately brightened his smile. "I'm here to surprise you, Lovi~" He quickly put away his battle axe and grabbed the basket. "Boss figured you might be a little homesick so I thought-"
"Homesick?!" Lovino exclaimed with outrage. "There's no way in hell that I'd miss being at your place! It always smelled funny, and it's so fucking big that anyone could get lost! I'm not homesick you tomato jerk!" With that, he folded his arms over his chest and angrily pouted, turning red around the face.
Spain was instantly reminded of when Romano was just a little chibi child and how adorable he was whenever he got furious and exasperated, and he cheerfully exclaimed, "Oh Romano, you're so cute! Your face is like a tomato~" As if to prove his point, the Italian's face burned a darker crimson, and the curly-haired brunette cooed with delight.
Lovino spluttered out of fluster before snapping, "Shut up, bastard! I'm not cute!" Antonio smiled bigger. "I said shut up! Just…stop looking at me like that! Why don't you make yourself useful by helping me clean up this mess instead of smiling there like an idiot!" Without waiting for him to answer, Romano spun around and stalked back into his messy home.
Chuckling to himself, Spain shook his head, his smile never wavering. Romano's comments were rather endearing (in their own way), and the older nation didn't realize how much he missed them since his tomate left until that moment. As he made his way into the house (stepping over the door he kicked down…which he'll fix later), he got a better look at the damage and noted that a lot of things appeared to be broken, picture frames hanging up on the wall were crooked, there were actually some dents and cracks in the walls as if someone had been slammed into it…
Antonio steered his thoughts away from that direction and instead focused on how Lovino had sent those men running scared. His little ex-colony was just full of delightful surprises.
For a moment, the Spaniard glanced down at the basket, more specifically at the picture of his tomato garden. On second thought, maybe I should just keep this after all. Lovi seems to be doing just fine—I'm so proud of him~
Little Lovi is all grown up so now Spamano can officially commence ;)
Anyways, thanks for reading! Your encouragement makes me happy :D Again, Happy Birthday, ClearAsCrystal269~!
Translations:
Spanish
tomate-tomato
cabrón-bastard (quite literally one of first Spanish words I learned XD)
Italian
fratello-brother
Sì-Yes
idiota-idiot (shocker *deadpan*)