*Because I had off from school today because of snow, I can write another chapter…Oh, and I put a poll up on my (pathetic-looking) profile to see which pairing you like better: Bella x Romano or Bella x Italy. If you vote, it will help with how the story progresses! And about Romano, if he's not talking enough, don't worry. Soon he'll go back to normal. And I've picked out themes for each pairing. Figure out why each song fits!

Romano x Bella: The Wolf That Fell in Love with Little Red Riding Hood by Kagamine Rin and Len

Italy x Bella: Romeo and Cinderella Rin and Len cover*

"Wow," I breathed. I'd been to a piazza in Venice before, but the canals were breathtaking. The water was so clear and everyone in the water was so happy and some were, of course, singing.

"You can ride in one," Italy offered. He gestured to a gondola sitting idly, waiting for someone to climb in.

"Who's going to steer?" I asked stupidly.

"Me, of course," Italy answered, quite proudly at that. He took my hand and helped me go in. I sat down in the boat while Italy stepped onto the front, taking an oar.

"How do you know how to row this thing…?" I asked.

"When you're as old as I am, you've got free time," Italy sighed, beginning to row the gondola out into the canal. "You know, I helped invent it."

"Really?" I gasped.

"Si. When I was really little, not even a real country yet, some guy complained to me because his huge decorated boat got stuck in the canal. I was fed up with it, so I made the gondola. With some help, of course."

"You aren't lying to me, are you?" I accused jokingly.

"No, it's true," Italy assured me. "Anyway, when we get home, I want to show you an Italian tradition for New Year's. And then we'll get ready for the Epiphany. It's fun! Remember when I told you about La Befana?"

"Yeah, the witch," I replied, looking over the scenery.

"There's poem to go along with her. And if you're going to stay here, you have to know at least one Italian saying or poem or something."

"Okay, shoot." I rested my head in my hands, listening to the poem.

"It goes like this: La Befana vien di notte; con le scarpe tutte rotte; col vestito alla romana; viva, viva La Befana."

My head spun at the foreign words. "And that means…?"

"La Befana travels by night; with her shoes all broken; she dresses as the Romans do; long live La Befana," Italy translated. "Or something like that."

"I'll try to remember it," I declared, a determined expression crossing my face. "I'll do my best! So…huh?"

I turned to the sudden noise. There were several children playing together, screaming at each other in Italian. One went to hug his mother just because and the others, siblings I guess, showed their own mom a drawing they made on the ground with chalk. I couldn't help but gaze wistfully as the mother lifted her daughter into the air, the latter shrieking in delight.

"Do you miss your family?"

I winced at the topic. "No! I…"

"I didn't really have a mom either," Italy sighed. "Hungary was the closest thing to that role I'd get."

"Ah."

"Bella, can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"When's your birthday?"

I blinked like an idiot at the sudden change of subject. "January 6th."

"That's the Epiphany!" Italy said excitedly. "This is great! You'll love it!"

"Love what?"

"On the Epiphany, we've got lots of festivals, and everything's closed, even the schools! So everyone can walk around and enjoy themselves and celebrate." He suddenly frowned slightly and his rowing slowed. "I always hope everyone will forget about the war since it's such a happy day, but sometimes people just get so depressed…"

I felt so bad for him. He had to look over all these people, and he no doubt cared about them, but he had to watch them just act sad on such a wonderful day.

"That's okay," I reassured him best I could. "This war will be over soon, I promise."

"…My country's doing fine in your time, right?" Italy muttered.

"Of course," I answered. "Everyone loves going to your place!"

"I meant my half of it," Italy corrected me.

"…?" I cocked my head. "Uh…"

"You're probably talking about the South," Italy sighed. "He's got Rome, Sicily, Pompeii…He's probably doing a lot better than me."

"Don't focus on that!" I snapped desperately. (Uh, hello? Italy was depressed right in front of me. Truly a historical moment.) "You're great and that's all that matters! Right?"

Italy gave a slight nod. "Yes." He suddenly brightened, his grin returning. (I'm suddenly beginning to think he's bipolar with all these manic depressive mood swings of his.) "Now, about that New Year's tradition…"

Later…

Needless to say, our time in Venice saw pretty amazing. I got to try gelato (and I mean real gelato) and we walked around the squares, buying a few clothes, getting a few things to eat. Lesson learned: living in Venice is expensive! You should've seen the prices!

Anyway, Italy wouldn't stop babbling about what he wanted to show me, so the moment we got home I dropped all my stuff on the couch and he dragged me to the top floor.

"Okay, what is this about?" I huffed, a little annoyed about his excitement.

"Um, hold on." He ran downstairs but came back a moment later with a frying pan.

In America we hit those against each other in the middle of the night to wake up the neighborhood at night. But it's daytime… What could he be doing?

Italy heaved the window open and stuck his head out the windowsill. He glanced down at the streets, saying, "Darn. They've already gotten a head start. Allora, before anyone else tries."

And with that statement, he raised the frying pan and threw it out the window.

"What in the-?" I shoved him gently out of the way and stared down at the streets. There were household items everywhere, like they just fell right out of the sky…or the window.

"We're making a new start!" Italy shouted as more people threw things out to the streets below. "We're getting rid of the things we don't need! I don't need this anymore!" He threw out a cup. And then a painting. And then a bunch of other stuff.

"This is nuts!" I yelled over the clangs of the pots and pans hitting the ground. "I love it!"

"We don't need this chair anymore~." Italy picked up a chair and held it out to me. So…tempting…

I ripped it from his grasp and threw it out as far as I could. I'm pretty sure b the sound it made, I either, a) hit the building across from us, or, b) broke a leg off of it. One thing was for sure: this was great stress relief.

"What else you got?!" I asked with a playful yet psychotic grin.

Italy grabbed a book and handed it to me. That sucker went so far it landed into another home's window.

"Sorry!" I shouted.

"Let me take care of this for you!" the neighbor laughed, tossing it down. Man, Italians are nice.

"Italy," I said over the noise and cheers of people. "…Do I have to leave?"

"That's not my choice," Italy told me.

"But…I don't want to leave!" I laughed. I held my arms out to my sides, taking in the energetic atmosphere and the happiness that surrounded me. "I've been better off here than I would be in my own world!"

"So…you'll stay?" Italy asked, like he couldn't believe I was saying it.

"Mm-hm." I ran over to him and wrapped my arms around his neck. He hugged me tighter and I laughed on the inside.

This was going to be a great year.

*Romano: I know what I'm getting rid of for New Year's.

Germany?

Romano: No. *picks up Shadow* You!

N-No! Tossing me out the window isn't necessary! I don't wanna die!

Spain: *walks in* Romano…You're holding Shadow.

Romano: Huh? Oh, yeah, I was just gonna-

Spain: Bridal style.

Romano: *realizes how he's holding Shadow* No! I was gonna-

Spain: I hate you! *cries dramatically and runs away*

Romano: Well, at least he's gone.

Spain Fan girls: DIIIIIIEEEEEE!

Romano: 0_0

SFG: YOU MAKE SPAIN-SAMA SAD! Y U NO FEEL BAD BOUT IT?!

Romano: *chucks Shadow out the window before his death-by-fangirls**