Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
Note: I would be using their character names, mostly. This is an AU fic—a very AU one. Also, I would like to apologize early for any out of character behaviour and/or poor plotting.

..

Travelling non-stop for two days (without any sufficient time to rest) does take its toll on a person, after all.

The warm light of the sun passes through the window easily—it had not been closed, at all. Kiku looks at the glass doors and walks over to them to close it. So, this was the reason why the room had felt cooler. He neither yawns crudely nor sheepishly rubs his eyes as he continued to stand by the window; the man simply turns his head to find a pair of shoes that are shamelessly left on the floor.

He knows that they are not his; it belongs to the strange man that broke into the apartment a few hours ago (the meeting happened somewhere past midnight, he estimated). Kiku found it odd that he actually allowed the stranger to sleep here as if the other is just an old friend of his, but William did say that they will sort this out. Hopefully, though, the former owner would have to leave.

Going into the bathroom, Kiku sharply closed its door as if he was shutting it in front of someone's face.

Downstairs, William is awake and reading an Italian newspaper—more like scanning, really. There would be some articles in the local language, and there would be others that would be in English; that's usually the international news.

William reads one of the articles that seem to have interest him the most—it's about a man responsible for a number of thefts and frauds (it's in English). Well, the thefts were more like misplacing prized stones and national treasures; one thing would be found in another country's museum or home.

"It's a game," the blond man mumbled amusingly to himself.

In what it is said on the newspaper, the latest 'steals' were from a museum in Taiwan. Even if two of the thousands of artefacts were 'moved' (all the way to Spain), the criminal is already regarded as one of the most devious of thieves. The security of this 'National Palace' is rumoured to be nearly impenetrable, after all.

The more one reads about the article, the more everything sounds as if the criminal is just doing a harmless prank. Ah, but now it mentions about the man's previous thefts—some of the treasures are still missing; a few things were mostly of fine jewellery, priceless portraits and vases.

Suddenly hearing a door close, William looked up to see Kiku (with a business bag in one hand) walking down the narrow staircase of the apartment. When the Japanese man saw the other sitting on the couch, he tersely greeted the man and hurried towards the rather compact kitchen.

The Englishman instantly assumed Kiku to be a businessman; the other is also wearing formal attire.

To the smaller man's surprise (that's kind of overestimating things, really), he noticed a plate of dry toast on the counter. He curiously looked at the blond man— "William, where were you able to buy bread?"
"The woman next door is quite the generous one, she is. She can act like a mother, but she's also a bit of a tart."
"…I could make something—"
"Bollocks. Toast is the quickest meal you can get, I'm sure. Besides, I made too much of it—you might as well not waste it."

The Englishman's face is soon hidden behind the newspaper in his hands; is there another article that caught his eye, or is it the advertisement with the woman in a bikini? Everyone else could only guess, really.

Kiku glanced at the food and finally decided to eat it. Though it looks to be a bit burnt, it still seems edible enough to eat. Thanking the other rather passively, the smaller man took a bite—

It has a rather… unique taste, he'll admit. The bread must obviously be of a foreign brand; he is in another country, after all. Not everything is meant to taste the same— he could only tell himself that as he continued to eat the food off from his plate.

For the most observant of people, they could point out the very subtle reluctance in every bite that the Japanese man had made.

Finishing up his small meal (and washing the dish soon after), the smaller man looked around to see that the other wasn't there anymore; it looks as if the person had disappeared. The newspaper that the Englishman held was left on the coffee table as if no one had touched it, at all. Before the thought of searching for the taller man was in his mind, Kiku could faintly hear the sound of running water.

Isn't that a little rude of the Englishman? But then again, he insists that this is still his home (so why bother?). It's just a bit of a wonder if the other has any other clothes to wear, though—probably not.

The Japanese man thought best not to think any further about it.

Knowing that the other wouldn't care, Kiku wordlessly made his was out of the apartment to go to work—he's running a bit late. On his way out, he saw a woman locking the door of her own apartment. That must be the same neighbour William had mentioned about, he thought.

The woman noticed Kiku then smiled and waved at him before leaving the complex, herself (rather briskly, though). On one shoulder, she seems to be carrying a bag meant for cameras and the like—she's obviously a photographer.

Finally on the empty streets of Italy (the rushing neighbour is nowhere to be found), the morning sun and the cool winds could be felt almost immediately. The Japanese man remembered that it would become much colder in the next few months, yet he hasn't brought a decent coat for the incoming weather.

Well, Feliciano did say something about him not needing to bring much to Italy—his clothes and other necessities were already provided for him. "It's part of the gift," he might say.

Still on his way towards his workplace, Kiku didn't notice the small bin bag in the first alleyway that is near his apartment. Completely passing it, a tiny flock of birds had begun ripping the bag open to reveal a number of blackened toasts—

Not much of it was eaten, though.