Yay! I'm alive! Sorry I haven't updated in forever! I still love you guys! I've just been really busy with school, the play I'm in (we close tomorrow!) getting ready for Sakura-Con in a couple weeks, and stuff like that. Anyway though! I'm back! I want to thank everybody who has read and reviewed the first chapter. *you know who you are*

Prussia- kesesese~ she didn't even bother to say it! Whatever, the awesome me can handle it! *ahem* Shinsei Roma-san does not own Hetalia, or its characters, including the awesomeness that is the awesome Prussia! If she did, she would make me the main character in all of her fanfictions!

'USUK OTP~' -thoughts

"USUK OTP~" -speaking

USUK OTP~ -flashbacks

CHILDHOOD- The Past is a Cruel Thing

POV- none / HRE

"S-So Doitsu," Italy asked. It had been about a week since Germany and Italy had been reunited as childhood friends, and he hadn't asked Germany about what had happened until now.

"Yes Italien?" Germany replied.

"How did it happen? How did you get from being Holy Roman Empire to Germany?" Germany sighed openly.

"Well, do you remember the day I had to leave for war?" Italy nodded slowly. "It happened then."

~-~-~-~-~ FLASHBACK ~-~-~-~-~

"Holy Roman Empire, don't go!" I turned around to see my best friend, and crush, Chibitalia.

"Italy, I must. I have to leave for war now, okay? I promise I'll return as soon as I can." Italy shook her head, copper curl bouncing lightly.

"No! No I don't want you to leave me Holy Rome! I'll miss you too much!" As she said the last sentence, she sank to her knees and looked up at me, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

"Oh… Italy, you know I would stay with you, but I really must go. I have to help with the war."

She stood slowly, eyes never leaving the ground. I yelped as she lunged at me, burying her face in my chest and pounding her tiny fists against it.

"Please don't go! I don't know what I'll do without you Holy Rome! I love you!"

My breath hitched in my throat. Had she really said that? Did she actually love me? I looked down at her now red face, a blush of my own threatening to spring upon my cheeks.

"I-Italy… Do you really mean that? Do you actually love me?" Her teary brown eyes lifted to meet my face. She nodded slowly.

"S-Si. Yes I do mean it. I love you more than anything, more than I love pasta!" That's how I knew she was serious; pasta was her most favored thing. My little arms found their way around her shoulders.

"I love you too, Italy. More than the world. But I'm afraid I must leave now."

I thought for a moment. "I-Italy, how do people say goodbye in your house?" I asked her. She mumbled quietly, obviously embarrassed about how people said their goodbye's where she lived.

"W-Well… where I come from, people usually… they usually kiss…"

Her face had turned a deeper shade of red than before, and I realized that my face was rather warm now, too. I looked straight into her eyes, and held her face gently.

"Well then Italy, I guess… I guess this is goodbye. For now."

I leaned forwards until my lips met hers in a soft, loving kiss. She hesitated for a moment, then relaxed into the kiss slightly. After a few seconds that felt like days, I reluctantly pulled away from her adorable blushing face. As I started turning away, she caught my wrist.

"U-Um, Holy Rome?" I turned to look at her.

"Yes?" I asked

"I'll miss you with all my heart. When you get home, we'll play together, okay? I'll even help Miss Hungary make pasta for you!" Her tiny voice rang like copper bells.

"Thank you, Italy. I promise with all my heart that we will see each other again. I don't know how long it will be, but it will happen."

She nodded slightly, not meeting my gaze. She let go of my wrists, and I turned away. I didn't dare look back, for if I did I knew I would burst into tears.

A FEW MONTHS LATER

"No! No please!"

I cried. There was a tall, very scary looking man looming over my trembling body, a sword pointed at my chest.

"Please spare me! I'm merely a child!"

The older man paid no mind to my please, and drove the sword into my chest. My scream split the air around us so easily, I'm sure that Austria heard it. The man's wicked laughter mingled with my pained cries. My vision began to darken around the edges, I was slowly losing consciousness. The pain was almost unbearable. I heard one of my soldiers running up, boots splashing in the blood, rain water, and mud that lay mixed together in puddles on the ground of the war front. He stabbed the man who was laughing at me in the back. The soldier who had come rushed to my side.

"Holy Roman Empire! Sir! Are you alright?"

I wanted to scream at him: "NO YOU MORON! I HAVE A FUCKING SWORD STICKING OUT OF MY CHEST! DO I LOOK ALRIGHT?"

But to speak was too large of an effort. He picked me up gingerly, taking note of my pained expression, the small whimpers of pain that escaped my lips when I moved, and the amount of blood that was leaking through the newly created wounds. The soldier ran as fast as he could, being careful not to hurt me even more, to the medical tent we had set up. I hardly noticed being placed gently on a cold table, before I lost my consciousness.

THREE DAYS LATER

When I woke up, I was in a real hospital bed, sword dislodged from my body, and in extreme pain. I winced as I breathed, thankful that it felt like the sword missed any vital organs. I looked attempted to look around, but my dusty blonde hair blocked my vision. I resorted to staring at the ceiling, eventually glancing at my arms. I noticed a small IV sticking out of my wrist, pumping some sort of fluid into my veins. I tried to remember exactly what happened, but I couldn't. In fact, I couldn't remember a thing. I had amnesia. I must've hit my head or something, but the situation still freaked me out a bit. I called for help, my voice sounding horse. A pretty nurse with long brown hair, a red flower tucked behind her ear, and green eyes rushed into the room. Following behind her, was a doctor with shoulder length blonde wavy hair and blue eyes.

"Yes? What is wrong?"

Asked the doctor. He had a thick French accent. The nurse was frantically checking the monitors, checking to make sure that nothing was too out of place.

"I-I can't remember anything!"

I yelled. The doctor gave a slight laugh, making my face go red with anger. 'How can he be laughing at me? I can't remember anything! This guy is an ass!' I noted that his tag read "Dr. Bonnefoy, MD". I tucked that little piece of information into the back of my head for later usage. The nurse whose nametag read "Carriedo, LPN" spoke next, with a light Spanish accent.

"Dr. Bonnefoy, amnesia, I presume?" Dr. Bonnefoy nodded. "Oui, I do believe that to be true, Miss Carriedo. Tell that to Mister Austria, alright? He needs to know right away." The Spanish nurse walked out of the room. In my mind, I was wondering who this 'Austria' guy could be. Austria was a country, right? It was impossible for somebody to be a country… right? Getting my memories back was going to take a while.

A FEW WEEKS LATER

Getting my memories back was difficult, but it was working out well enough. I had been taught many things over, basic math, history, English, science, and all that jazz. I was still having trouble believing that I was the Holy Roman Empire, and that everybody I had ever known was the representation of a country's standard stereotype, but I was starting to slowly get the idea.

A couple hours of studying basic arithmetic with Mister Austria, a small, fragile looking girl wearing a green dress with a white apron, and a small curl popping out of the side of her copper colored hair, walked into the room. She stopped in her tracks when she saw me lying on the floor with books strewn all around me, a large smile lighting up her chubby face. She rushed over to me, fat tears streaming down her face. I leaned away from her, a little scared at her reaction.

The young girl threw her arms around me in a hug, bawling into my shoulder about how much she had missed me, and the many lonely months without a playmate she was forced to endure. I was so confused by all of this, that I was about to have a full scale panic-attack. I eventually pried her arms off of me, and we sat in silence for a few moments before I began to speak.

"U-Um… I'm sorry miss… but I have no idea who you are…"

Her large eyes opened slightly, revealing beautiful golden-brown irises. Tears were still perched at the corners of her eyes, threatening to spring forth again to wet her small face.

"V-Ve? How can you not remember me, Holy Rome? I'm your best friend!"

She looked around frantically, as if looking for somebody to comfort her, because it obviously wasn't going to be me.

"Mister Austria! Miss Hungary! Come quick!" She was practically yelling at the top of her lungs. Austria came rushing in, followed closely by Hungary. Mister Austria spoke first.

"What? What is it Chibitalia?"

He was checking her for any injuries, scrapes, bruises, blood, anything. She tensed when he neared her curl, and he quickly removed his hand from that area of her upper half.

"Chibitalia, please tell me what is wrong. If you are not hurt, why yell for us to come help you?"

The girl, whose name was presumably Chibitalia, was sobbing and hiccupping at the same time as she tried to speak. "H-H-Holy *sob* Rome d-doesn't *hic* remem-ember who I a-am!"

Aaaaaaaand here's where I'm going to stop for tonight. I will try to get more in tomorrow, but closing for WWJr. (Willy Wonka Jr.) is tomorrow, and then we have the cast party, so I probably won't get home until about 12. Then on Sunday I'm going to go see "The Hunger Games" with a bunch of the cast at 4 PM, so I won't get home 'till 'bout 7. I'll try to get some done during the week, but no promises. Thank you all so much for reading, and I would appreciate it if you reviewed it for me!