The evening before, Germany had offered Japan the guest bedroom so he could have a good night's rest before the next day's travels. As a result, Germany was camped out on the couch. He set an alarm on his phone for 6:30 the next morning. He would have normally gotten up an hour before for his morning jog, but he had not packed for an overnight stay. Before he had gone to bed, he stripped off his button-down shirt for the wide-strapped white undershirt he had worn underneath it. He had a rough night's sleep, but he got up without complaint and started rummaging around the kitchen.

He filled a glass with water and swished it around his mouth in a vain attempt to get rid of the morning taste in his mouth. The water took care of some of it, but he reached in his pocket and pulled out his pack of spearmint gum to pop a strip in his mouth. He started a pot of coffee and got out some eggs, deciding to make a nice, healthy breakfast for the day. He ignored the crick in his neck as he started chopping vegetables and mixing eggs. He heard quiet footsteps behind him.

"Guten Morgen, Japan. You won't be scaring me this morning, I'm afraid. I'm making eggs with sautéed vegetables this morning, unless you would like something different."

"That sounds delicious, actually." Italy's voice said.

Germany turned around, his eyes wide with surprise. Indeed, it was Italy standing behind him. He was wearing a button-down shirt, and he had slung a pair of skinny jeans over his arm as he was buttoning said shirt. His hair was tousled and he had grey shadows under each of his eyes. Regardless, he looked much better in comparison to how he looked the night before.

"Italy." Germany said.

"Germany." Italy returned with a hint of a smile. He pulled on the skinny jeans, apparently in no hurry.

"I didn't expect you to be out of bed so soon."

Italy hummed in agreement, straightening. "Neither did I." His voice sounded slightly gravelly from sleep – or lack of it. Germany was still unsure. "But I have plans today." His voice didn't have the usual bubbly quality it possessed.

Germany's eyebrows were raised up high. He raked his eyes up and down Italy's form, quite taken aback by how good he looked in those skinny jeans. He ran a hand through his hair, hoping that it would somehow stay back. "So soon?"

Italy nodded, brushing past Germany to get to the coffee pot. He reached up to the cupboards to grab a coffee mug, filling it to the brim. "Yes. I'm going to visit France."

"France?" Germany asked, suddenly angry. "Why him?"

Italy took a sip of coffee and sat at the barstool across from him. "He was going to give his side of the story yesterday, but I never gave him a chance. I owe it to him, I think. The sooner I hear it the better."

Germany leaned forward on the counter, resting his weight on his forearms. He looked at Italy, and Italy looked back at him. He failed to understand how Italy could be giving France a chance to be forgiven so quickly. "I don't think I'll ever understand you."

Italy nodded. "You're not the first person to have told me that."

"Do you want me to come with you? Japan has to go home this morning, but I can come along if you want."

Italy took another sip, humming with satisfaction. "No, I can go on my own. But I would like you to stay for a little while longer, if you can."

Germany nodded. It was the answer he was hoping for. "Of course. I already have permission, I'll just need to get some clothes from my house."

"You slept in your clothes last night?" Italy asked.

Germany frowned. "What do you think? I'm wearing my clothes right now."

Italy gave a sheepish smile. "Right. Sorry.

Germany's frown softened as he was filled with regret. Why couldn't he control his damned temper? "It's fine. I snapped."

Germany heard a yawn behind them. "Guten morgen, Japan."

Japan offered no response as he shuffled past Germany, clad in his pants from yesterday and his open button-down shirt over a white tank top. He shuffled over to the coffee pot and poured himself a mug, standing and facing the wall as he took a few sips.

Germany looked over to Italy and they shared a small, if not tentative smile. They were well-accustomed to the fact that Japan had a very difficult time waking up without coffee, often not noticing things until he was through at least half a cup. He continued his shuffle over to the bar stools, stopping as he noticed Italy sitting there.

"Italy. Good morning." He said, as if it were just another normal day.

"Good morning, Japan." Italy returned with a close-mouthed smile.

Japan sat and took another sip. Germany had just finished chopping up the vegetables when Japan looked back over to Italy as he began to remember what happened the day before. "Italy, how are you feeling?" He asked.

Italy smiled once again at his friend. "Much better. Thank you, Japan. Thank you both for helping me yesterday."

"It was our pleasure." Japan answered.

Germany nodded.

"I didn't expect you to be up this early, Italy."

Italy nodded. "I have plans to go over to France's after breakfast."

"Hm." Japan hummed. He took another sip of coffee. "That is probably a good idea."

The three enjoyed breakfast together, discussing Japan's travels and what was likely to be expected of him whenever he got home.

"I imagine my boss will want to know what kept me from going home yesterday."

"Are you going to tell him?" Italy asked nervously.

Japan shook his head. "No. There is no reason to cause tension between everyone. I will just say the truth: I wanted to see my friends."

"Aww, that's sweet, Japan!" Italy cooed.

Germany allowed a small smile at two nations. Despite Italy's semi-normal attitude, there was no denying he was tired. It was obvious that he was still stressed. He was glad he could still stick around with Italy, even if it was just to keep him a little bit of company.

As breakfast finished and Japan downed the dregs of his second cup of coffee, he glanced at the clock on the wall. "I have to get going. He stood up and bowed to Italy. "I want to thank you for your hospitality, Italy."

Used to his formality, Italy gave him a close-mouthed smile and bowed his head. "You should really be thanking Germany for it. I really didn't do much,"

"It was nothing." Germany said.

"Actually, it was quite delicious!" Italy said as Japan left to grab his things. "I'm impressed you figured out the coffee machine!"

"I must admit, Italy, I never took you to be a coffee snob. Grinding your own beans every morning?" Germany said with a hint of a smile.

Italy shrugged. "What can I say? I have an expensive taste." He took another sip of his coffee as Japan returned with his jacket. "You ready to go?"

Japan nodded, shrugging on his jacket. "Unfortunately. My car is still in the garage, I think."

"Should be," Italy confirmed. "You know the way there and how to open the garage door?"

"Yes. Again, thank you two for the bed and food. I'll call soon, Italy." Japan offered, resting a hand on Italy's shoulder as he walked away.

"I'll hold you to that, Japan!" Italy called back before the door shut.

Germany looked over at Italy, his heart feeling lighter as Italy's gleaming amber eyes met his. The two were looking at each other for a moment. Germany's face was expressionless, and yet his heart quite full.

"You okay, Germany?" Italy asked.

Germany looked away, dismayed to feel his cheeks heating up. "Fine. It's just good to see you feeling better."

Italy looked down into his coffee, almost as if he were willing it to refill itself. "I'm feeling a little better. I mean… it's not like I'm getting over his death for the first time. I think that the shock of finding out France did it kind of opened that wound for a moment."

"Will you be okay?" Germany asked, hoping that this was all just temporary. More than anything, he wanted Italy to be fully and completely happy again.

Italy looked back up to Germany. "It's as I said yesterday. It's complicated, but… the complications in this case make it a little easier. I suppose. I'll be okay, though. I promise. Especially after I talk to France."

Germany nodded. "Good. When do you plan on leaving?"

Italy hummed. "After I finish my coffee."

"I can use my key to get back in here after I bring my stuff."

"Great! Do you want me to drop you off on my way to France's?"

Germany blanched. "Why on earth would I-?" He stopped as he noticed Italy's expression of mirth. "Oh, you're joking."

Italy laughed into his cup as he lifted it to his lips. "Yes, I am. I know my driving is a little too fast for you."

"Well, yes." Germany said.

"After all, it's not my fault that you're too boring to enjoy it," Italy added with a grin.

"Boring?" The corners of Germany's mouth lifted at Italy's remark. "I'm not boring."

"You iron your socks!" Italy laughed.

Germany smiled at the sound, relieved. "I see no reason why socks should be wrinkled."

Italy put down his mug and shifted forward in his seat. "Okay, maybe, but then you roll them into little… snail shells before you put them away and they get wrinkled all over again! There's no point in ironing them!"

"You mean spirals?" Germany corrected.

"Don't change the subject!"

Germany chuckled.

"Am I wrong? Don't they wrinkle?"

Germany leaned on the table, shaking his head. "Now that I think on it, I suppose they do."

"Exactly! Do you know what you should do?"

Germany smoothed his hair back, wondering what his disorganized friend had to tell him. "What should I do?" He asked with a smile.

"You need to- hold on." He bent down under the edge of the table.

"What are you-?"

Italy sat back up, holding a sock patterned with avocados. "Here, let me show you." He placed it on the table.

"Is that a sock you were wearing?" Germany asked.

"I didn't wear it long," Italy batted his hand.

"Don't put it on the table! It's disgusting." Germany slid his coffee mug away from the pair of socks.

"You fold them like this." Italy said, ignoring Germany's last remark. He folded the end with the toes halfway up the sock before he pulled the end with the foot hole to meet the toes halfway. "Then you fold them up like a book." He concluded, doing so. "Then you can stack them a few pairs high, and there are no wrinkles!"

Germany raised his eyebrows. "I will admit, I didn't expect you to say something that actually made sense."

Italy pulled his socks off the table. "Well, us Italians take fashion very seriously."

"With avocado socks."

"Oh, yes. Can't afford for your avocado socks to get wrinkled."

"Now who's boring?" Germany asked with a smile.

Italy laughed, taking a final sip of his coffee. "I really have to get going."

Germany nodded, disappointed that the lighthearted moment had passed. "Okay. Good luck,"

"Thanks." He stood and pulled his ring of keys out of the key bowl on the counter. "Thanks for breakfast, Germany! Don't let the coffee go to waste!"

"What coffee? You drank it all." Germany answered as Italy went out the hallway. He heard Italy's faint laugh trail behind him before he closed the door and left the house quiet.

Germany let out a content sigh, draining the last of his cup of coffee. He looked around the kitchen, noticing he still had to clean.

By the time he finished and got in the car, he didn't feel like going through all the trouble of buttoning up his shirt and tying his tie for a five-minute drive to his place. He enjoyed the Italian sunshine as he drove his car out, rolling down the windows. It was autumn, so by the time he was back in Germany it would be chilly again. As he turned the radio on, he pondered that it would be nice to take a couple days' vacation. He hadn't spent more than a weekend there since the late 70's, and even then he just stayed at Italy's house. Not that it was a bad thing, he just enjoyed the architecture and culture of the country and scarcely had the opportunity to explore it.

Perhaps he could visit Rome again. Maybe Italy would come with him. It would be a good time. They could get some pasta, check out a few botanical gardens… his musings were interrupted as the air turned chilly, prompting him to roll up the windows. He saw his house in the distance. Unlike Italy's house, it had been updated quite a bit with the modern times. He suspected that the reason Italy's house was still rather old-fashioned was because of the older culture and landmarks of the past that still remained.

Germany's house featured a glass front with smooth grey sides and black slate roof that banked to the house's left side. It had a modern looking garden, with perfectly cubed and rectangular hedges. There were no flowers or fruits in his garden. He got out of his car and walked up to his door past the brown shrubs, wondering if he could get a couple flowering bushes. He stopped at the door and unlocked it, musing that Italy must have been rubbing off on him more than he initially suspected.

He opened the door, shutting it behind him. "Blackie, Berlitz, Aster! I'm home!" He shouted in German, delighted as he heard the barks from his three beloved dogs, their toenails scratching on the dark hardwood floor as they bolted toward him. "Did you miss me?" He asked, kneeling and petting them all in turn. They weaved around his legs and torso, almost nudging him over as he vied for his attention. "I missed you three. It's good to see you."

"Wow, Ludwig, greeting the dogs before saying 'hello' to your own brother?"

Germany looked up as Prussia rounded the corner. Though he had his usual smirk, there was an air of anxiousness. A silent question if all was well.

"Hello, Gilbert." He stood and offered out a hand to shake.

Prussia gripped it and pulled his younger brother into a hug. Germany returned it after a slight pause, not realizing how much he needed it until then.

"How's Italy doing?" Prussia asked.

Germany pulled away. "Better. Last night he was…"

"Heartbroken?" Prussia offered.

Germany nodded. There weren't many other ways to describe it. "Today he's going to see France. Talk things out." He made his way back to his room.

"I know." Prussia followed him, his chicken slippers sliding on the wood of the floor. "He called me earlier and told me. It was a pain in the ass to be woken up by a phone call at 6 in the morning, but whatever."

Germany grunted, pulling his suitcase out of the closet.

"Going somewhere?"

"I'm staying at Italy's house for a couple weeks. Helping him out."

Gilbert's eyebrows floated up to his hairline. "Boss let you?"

"For whatever reason, yes." Germany answered. "I have to get my paperwork done there, but I was allowed."

"On vacation?"

Germany shrugged as he pulled out several shirts. He went through them, choosing the ones he knew he looked best in. He wasn't doing it for Italy, of course, he was doing it to make a good impression on the people of his country… obviously. "We're nations. Vacation is never truly vacation."

"Ooh, you're packing your best shirts."

"No," Germany turned away as he felt his ears and cheeks heat up.

"Yeah, you are!" Prussia strode forward and pointed to each of them in turn. "These three make your biceps stand out, this one makes your skin look tan, and France once told you that this one looked hot on you. At first I was like: 'gross, France, that's my brother', but I mean a compliment is a compliment. Especially from France."

Germany's neck was growing hot at this point. Prussia had hit a bulls-eye on every guess. "Yes, well… I'm trying to make a good impression on the Italians. For whatever reason, whenever I go there they seem scared of me." This was perfectly true, in his defense. Not exactly a lie.

Prussia sat on his bed, studying him for a moment with a mischievous smile. "Mm-hmm… don't worry about the paperwork. I'll call the boss, tell him that the better brother is taking care of it."

Germany looked up from the shirts at Prussia. "What?"

Prussia shrugged. "How could I call myself an awesome brother if I didn't take your work from you? After all, you can't pursue Italy's sweet ass while trying to do all that boring shit."

Germany's blush returned full force. "What do you mean?!" He asked, his voice far too loud from embarrassment.

"West, I need you to listen to me." Prussia put his hands on Germany's shoulders. "The only person who can't see you have a giant crush on Italy is Italy himself. Everyone else knows."

"What…?" Germany's voice was remarkably quiet.

Prussia stepped away toward the dresser. "Yes, everyone knows! America and France have started a betting pool. And I owe Spain 50 euros if you don't get laid in the next three months, so you better hop to it and get your awesome brother some cash!" He pulled out a pair of jeans that Germany seldom wore. "And make sure to wear these, they make your ass look good."