Chapter 10: Mario Kart

They jogged up to the Pantheon, Germany slowing as he came closer to the majestic front.

"What does that say?" He asked.

Italy followed his gaze. "Hmm? Oh! It says: 'Marcus Agrippa, son of Lucius, Consul for the first time built this'. It's not true, though."

"Why do you say that?" The two climbed the steps side-by-side.

"Well, the very first temple to the Gods was burned a while before this pantheon. The builder of that temple died a long time ago. So when this one was built, the text from the original pantheon was put on this one to honor Marcus Agrippa."

They passed through the giant bronze gates, Germany musing that the attraction was a feat of remarkable architecture. The air inside the building was slightly cooler than that of the air outside. Not air conditioned, of course, but a combination of the cool stone walls, tiled floor, and shade from the sun made the room relaxing to step into. Germany was glad for the shade. He could already feel his pasty skin turning pink from the hot sun.

His thoughts were whisked away from him when the short hallway opened up to the giant domed room. The room was impossibly large and impossibly empty. Larger even than he had originally anticipated. Everything in the room was beautiful. The floor was pure marble, the different colors cut into perfect squares and inlaid in the ground, the shades of the marble shocking against the white tiles. Around them were columns holding up the doorways and a long, golden ridge that encircled the room. Above the golden ridge were squares. Ones of tan were dispersed between cubes cut into the wall, framed by detailed scrolling marble. Another golden ridge above was framing them.

The entire space was too much to process, Germany's eyes darting to search for a new detail as soon as he was able to spot one. His attention was soon focused on the dome, however. Squares were cut into the dome, bending with the curvature of the roof as it rose up, encasing the room in an almost dizzying array of detail. Entirely unsupported. Germany hadn't even realized he had walked to the middle of the room until he found himself bathed in the golden light shining from the hold in the top of the ceiling. He looked up briefly before returning his gaze to the wall, circling as he took in the details. His mouth agape, it split into a smile as he marvelled at the beauty of the building. An entirely unsupported dome this big... an architectural marvel back then, but no less of one in present time. As he finished his circle, he found it within himself to speak.

"Italy... this is..." He stopped as his eyes stopped on Italy.

Italy was staring at him, his mouth slightly agape, his eyes filled with some unnameable emotion.

Germany was entranced by Italy's gaze, astounded by the intensity behind it. His thoughts quietened as he returned it.

Slowly, Italy stepped forward. It seemed like there was an eternity between the time Italy left his spot, and the time it took for him to near Germany. But the entire time, they held their gaze. Anything could have happened in that span of time. Someone could have entered the room. Someone could shout. The building could collapse around them. But their focuses were entirely on each other. Alone, in an empty piece of history. Italy was about two feet in front of him now, his gait slowing as he was two feet away. He finally stopped as they were toe to toe. Germany's heart was set alight as he felt Italy's graceful, slim fingers graze his arm and slip slowly down. Automatically, Germany's other arm encircled Italy's waist. The both of them leaned in. Germany felt Italy's fingers close on his wrist. He turned his head. Italy was so close. Their eyes were almost closed-

A blaring siron echoed around the atrium, the domed ceiling amplifying the sound.

Startled, the two leapt apart.

Germany's mind reeled. Was that a hurricane warning or something? Perhaps a storm? A fire engine? Then, his heart stopped as he remembered setting that alarm earlier that afternoon after the colosseum. "Scheiße." He muttered, pulling his phone out of his pocket and silencing the alert. He stared down at his phone a moment longer before he raised his phone screen to Italy, looking at the floor. He could feel his face, neck, and ears heat up with what was likely an intense blush. He refused to make eye contact out of embarassment. What just happened? "We- we should head back to the car."

Germany heard the echo of voices as a group of people entered the Pantheon. A group of people who had no idea what had just transpired. Who couldn't feel the tense air of... whatever was in this room. Not waiting for an answer from Italy, he brushed past him and left the building. He had to get out of there. He needed- he needed a moment to collect himself. He needed to walk back to the car and drive with the windows down. Let the rushing of the wind silence the thoughts in his head. Or perhaps encourage them. He didn't know. He couldn't think. By the time he was down the steps, he felt Italy's presence next to him.

The walk back to the car didn't have amiable chatter, like many that day had. There wasn't even that comfortable silence that people often had when walking next to each other. All there was was empty silence. A question of: what the hell just happened? Hanging on both of their tongues but refusing to come out. The walk led to the car, which led to driving back down the very streets they had driven on to get into the city. The windows were down, but Italy hadn't been bold enough to plug the AUX chord in his phone, so Germany just turned on the radio. The songs were dispersed with radio ads he couldn't understand.

In his periphary, Germany saw Italy's tan hand dial back the volume on the radio. For a moment, he was concerned that Italy would try and talk about... whatever had taken place. Germany's thoughts hadn't even began to sort themselves out enough for him to understand, let alone discuss.

"There's a place up here where we can get food for Japan." Italy said, his voice unusually level.

Germany couldn't bring himself to look at Italy still. "The one with the tables over there?" There was a pause in which Germany was sure Italy nodded.

"Yes. The one with the green umbrellas."

Germany slid into a parking spot. "Why don't you go in and get the food, and I'll wait out here in the car?" There was a period of silence when Germany was certain Italy was going to protest.

"Okay. I'll be out soon, Germany."

Germany nodded. He heard the car door open then close. He waited a moment during which he was sure Italy had disappeared in the restaraunt. With a pathetic grunt, he let his forehead fall against the steering wheel. The horn blared, but that didn't stop him from letting his head hit the horn once, twice, three times. He sat up again. If only he hadn't set that damned alarm... What would have happened then, though? They would have kissed, probably. But then what? Would they be in a relationship, or would Italy say that it was a mistake, or- or maybe he was trying to see if kissing him would spark memories of Holy Rome. He shook his head. No... Italy could never be that cruel. Not after all he did to protect Germany from his past. Fine, then. His subconscious jeered. He probably thinks it was a mistake. His glare loosened into a worried frown. Was it? Because Germany knew he hadn't gone into it with anything other than pure affection. But what could be said of Italy? He could often get swept away in his emotions and desires. Maybe it was a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing. Maybe-

The door opening startled him out of his reverie. He stared forward as Italy ducked into the car, setting the bags of fragrant food in the backseat.

Germany pulled into the street as Italy buckled his seatbelt. He didn't think he could stand any more silence. "Do you want to turn on some music?" He asked.

Italy looked over, unabashedly studying him. "Do you want to choose?"

Germany shook his head. "No."

Silence prevailed as Germany rolled up the windows and Italy scrolled through his music. Perhaps it started, perhaps it didn't. Germany was unaware of anything except his thoughts, and the road ahead of him. Prussia said before that Germany could draw himself within his own mind, focusing all his attention on solving problems or getting work done. Or, in this case, sorting his emotions out. It seemed like an eternity had passed by the time they pulled into Italy's driveway. Japan's sleep silver car was already sitting there.

"I wonder how long he's been here." Italy said.

Germany grunted.

"Maybe he won't even be hungry..."

Germany pulled into a park. "I can help you carry those in."

"Okay."

Germany continued to avoid eye contact as he reached in the back and grabbed all the bags. He continued to avoid Italy's surprised look as he noticed there were no bags left for him to carry. He especially refused to notice how close the two were to each other as they climbed the steps up to his house. The door was unlocked, so Italy opened the door for Germany. He brushed past Italy, thumping through the hallway in his boots and setting the groceries on the counter. "Japan?" He called. He heard stirring on the couch and looked over to see Japan sit up.

Japan peered over the back of the couch at Germany. "Oh, Germany. Hello. Sorry I didn't greet you, I seem to have fallen asleep on the sofa."

"Hi, Japan!" Italy greeted. To anyone who didn't know him as well as Germany and Japan did, they would say that Italy was his usual peppy self. But Germany and Japan knew Italy, and they knew that something was wrong. The only difference was that Germany knew the reason why.

Though Japan had a concerned frown on his face momentarily, he wiped it off to bow to Italy. "Hello, Italy."

Italy returned the bow, smiling. "What time did you get here?"

"I got here a few hours after our video chat."

"Oh, good! So you haven't been here long! Are you hungry?"

Japan nodded. "After my nap, I am."

"Great! We brought back lots of good food!"

The three of them sat down at the table after Germany quickly set the table, passing the takeout containers between the three of them. Germany noticed the distinctly stiff, awkward atmosphere at the table. He tried to think of something to say.

"This is good." Really? 'This is good'?

Italy nodded. "It's from one of my favorite restaraunts."

Silence prevailed again.

Japan glanced between them through his glasses, obviously trying to discern what was going on. Eventually, he appeared to have decided to try and get more clues. "So, where did you go today?"

"Well we went to the colosseum, as you could see!" Italy said, brightening slightly. "Afterword, I was super hungry! But I didn't want any of Germany's disgusting protein bars."

"They're not disgusting, they're healthy." Germany protested, looking at Italy for the first time that evening. It was a short, quick glance. But it was eye contact nonetheless.

Italy shrugged with manufactured ease. "There's no difference, really."

"Because Italy's so picky, we went to a nearby cafe. He ordered six desserts. Seven, if you count mine."

Japan nodded, seemingly unsurprised. "He did that when the two of us went on vacation, too. And he refused to let you pay?"

"Of course."

Italy leaned against his hand. "But weren't they delicious?"

Germany returned his gaze. "Ja, they were."

Italy straightened. "See? It was worth it!"

Germany smiled. For a moment, everything almost seemed normal.

The food on their plates slowly disappeared as Japan heard about the rest of their day. By the time they were done, everyone was equally stuffed. Germany could have gone for a nap. Far too much happened today. Far too many emotions and serious talks. What was up with those these past couple days? Hardly an hour could pass without some sappy heartfelt moment.

Italy, however, looked as energetic as ever. "Do you guys want to play a video game?"

Germany's immediate answer was a 'no', but Japan straightened up slightly.

"That sounds fun," was his only answer.

"Great! I have a Wii!" Italy said, clamoring out of his seat and scampering to the living room.

"You go join him. I'll clean up from dinner." Germany offered.

Japan raised an eyebrow. "You want to avoid video games that much?"

Germany nodded. "Are you surprised?"

"Not at all." Japan answered with a slight smile. "Thank you, Germany."

Germany nodded, standing and collecting plates.

Japan left his seat, taking a couple steps toward the living room before doing a half-turn. "Oh, and Germany?"

"Hmm?" Germany looked up.

"Can we talk later?"

"... Okay."

Japan nodded and left.

Germany furrowed his brow. He wondered how much they were going to talk about. Whether it would be about Holy Rome or him and Italy... perhaps both. Either way, both options teriffied him. He finished cleaning, his head occupied with so many thoughts that he felt like he would burst. He was about to start washing the dishes when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Quizzically, he pulled it out of his pocket. A text from his brother. Prussia never texted. He always preferred to call. He opened the text, frowning as he read.

Have you seen Italy's latest Instagram post

Germany was about to reply 'no' when another text came through.

Cause... youll see i guess

Before Germany could even decipher what that meant, he got a notification from Instagram. News that Italy had tagged him in a post. Fearing the worst, he opened the notification.

He could see that it was a series of photos, the first being an aesthetic shot down an Italian street filled with buildings of multiple colors. He swiped to the next photos, seeing a few of pretty flowers they had passed on the street. The next was of their table at the cafe, laden with delicious and pretty-looking desserts. Germany stopped as he saw a side profile photo of him from when he was reading on the bench. He blushed slightly as he saw this, but was otherwise unbothered. It was just a photo. What followed was a photo of the great stone mask with Italy's hand inside. Germany smiled to himself as he remembered how he scared Italy. His smile was wiped off his face, however, as he was confronted with a photo of himself.

To clarify, it was a photo of him... laughing. The photo was taken as Germany was straightening up, his shoulders raised slightly with his laughter. The heat had caused a couple strands of hair to come unstuck from the gel, hanging down from his hairline. His mouth was split open mid-laugh, and his eyes were shut. So that's why he hadn't noticed Italy taking a photo. He stared at himself quizzically. So this was what he looked like laughing. Ugh. His face blotched red as he remembered it was on Instagram. The photo was on Instagram! Germany scrolled up to the top to see how many followers Italy had. He shook his head as the panic mounted. Italy had consistently been one of the top Instagrammers for months now, his profile filled with aesthetic pictures and photos of food. Most of his followers were there, though, for the occasional photo he posted when he was dressed in a nice outfit.

Frantically, Germany scrolled back down to the photos. He blanched at the amount of likes. There were thousands... He looked down at the photo's description: When in Rome... Seeing the top comments, he knew it was already too late to have Italy delete the photos. A strange requirement of nations was that they had to follow each others' social media pages and have notifications on for them. Their bosses figured it was a good way not only to connect with their people, but to connect with each other and encourage deplomacy. And he saw that the other nations' comments and likes were already there.

Official_USA: Whoa, dude! It's good to see you guys having a good time!

Hungary'sInstagram: You have a lovely smile, Germany!

Under Hungary's comment, there was a long thread of 69 comments, talking about various things from how nice Germany's smile was, to how he looked less scary when he was laughing, to a couple... weird ones. Germany cringed and shook his head. It struck him dumb that there were fangirls who were attracted to goddamn countries.

Prussias_Not_Ded: Have a fun time broha

The rest of the comments were from Italy's followers, talking about how lovely the photos were, complaining that there weren't any photos of Italy there, the regular sort of mixture. Germany turned off his phone, sliding it back in his pocket. "Italy!" He barked.

"Uh-oh." Japan muttered from the couch. "I told you he would be mad."

Italy half-turned, his picture the face of innocence. "Yes, Germany?"

"Why did you upload that picture?!"

Italy rubbed the back of his head. "Well, I suppose food pictures are cliche, but the cafe had nice lighting and-"

"You know what photo I'm talking about, Italy! The one where I was laughing!"

"Oh, that!" Italy acted as if he just realized.

Japan sent Italy a level look, clearly not taking any of his shit.

Germany raised an eyebrow of exasperation, waiting for whatever half-baked excuse Italy had.

"I thought you looked nice in it!"

Okay, Germany wasn't expecting complete honesty.

"I can take it down if you want, though."

Germany sighed, brushing a hand over his slicked-back hair. "The damage is already done. It would just be embarassing if you took it down now."

"Good! It's a pretty picture." Italy said.

Much to his dismay, Germany could feel his damned blush coming back. If he had a deutschmark for every time he had blushed these past couple days... he couldn't imagine how many cats he could get from Arby's.

"Anyway, people think you're scary sometimes!" Italy forged on, apparently not noticing. "I did too when I first met you, you know!"

Japan nodded in agreement. "That is part of Germany's reputation. You must remember, Germany. We have to be approachable, but respectable. To promote tourism and goodwill between nations. And you haven't posted on your social media for weeks!"

Germany frowned, rounding the couch and sitting down. "I don't feel the need to post. Surely people aren't that interested in what I'm doing."

Japan shook his head, pulling out his phone. "That isn't exactly true, Germany." He scrolled down, his glasses reflecting the photos passing on his screen. "You have ninety million followers, after all."

Germany gave a half-shrug. "I just don't understand it. What I do isn't anyone else's business."

"But Germany, your people want to hear from you!" Italy protested. "Besides, your boss is going to get angry at you if you keep this up!"

"All you post is photos of your dogs." Japan added.

"Photos of dogs have merit!" Germany protested, craning his neck to see Japan's phone. "Blackie is extremely photogenic."

Italy peered up at Germany through half-lidded eyes. "Ah, but your followers want to see more of you!" He let a short laugh escape. "Especially the girls..."

"Can we end this conversation yet?" Germany grumbled.

Italy chuckled. "Aww, I'm just teasing, Germany!" He wrapped an arm around Germany and Japan, both of them making noises of protest. "We're all friends here!"

"Reluctantly so." Germany responded, feeling as if Italy's touch was burning against his skin.

Italy released them, snatching a wii steering wheel off of the coffee table. "So, are you guys ready to lose?"

"I regret to inform you that Mario Kart is my best game." Japan said, grabbing his steering wheel off the table as well.

"Italy," Germany leaned forward here and collected his. "You can't even drive a bumper car correctly. You enganger yourself and others when driving a real car. Forgive me if I don't believe you."

Italy started the game. They all went through setup, choosing their cars and characters. Italy went with Mario, Japan selected Toad, and Germany chose Dry Bowser. All three of them decided on bikes. Germany chose for handling, Japan for speed, and Italy chose the sugar scoot because he liked the name.

The three raced through the desert, the room surprisingly quiet as they concentrated on their driving. Through the entire race, they were neck and neck, all three of them vying to make it through narrow doorways. The final lap. The paramount of the action. The epitome of hard work and stress. They had made it through the entire race beside each other, each trying desperately and failing to get the upper hand. They were within a hundred virtual feet of the finish line , neck and neck. All three of their eyes widened as sirens sounded, the icons at the bottom of the screen alerting them that a blue shell was hurtling toward them. Almost in complete synchrony, Germany and Italy fell back until they were barely off the perimiter of the explosion. Japan wasn't so lucky.

"No. No no no no no no no no..." His voice steadily grew in volume as it approached, reaching its apex as Toad exploded. "FUCKING GOD." Japan shouted at the top of his voice as Italy and Germany passed the finish line. "SON OF A BITCH!"

As the game's cheery tune started, Germany and Italy looked at each other in shock before peering over at their friend.

Japan's hands had flown to his mouth, his eyes flared wide open as he realized what he said.

Germany doubled over in laughter. He could hear Italy's high-pitched giggles beside him, fueling the mirth he felt. The two were engaged in barking, full-bellied laughter. Every time Germany thought he was done laughing, he heard the mental echo of Japan's usually serene voice cussing like a sailor and he was washed anew with laughter. By the time Germany could straighten up with a sigh, he looked over and noticed Italy had tears in his eyes. Looking across Italy, Germany could see Japan studying them with an embarassed blush across his face, and a regretful smile. "What is it?" Germany asked with a slight chuckle.

"I.. apologize, my anger ran away with me." Japan apologized.

Germany snorted, his laughter starting all over again. Italy joined in, before Japan finally giggled along with them.