Author's Note: Ugh, I really don't want to kill off these last few characters... BUT THE END OF THE STORY IS JUST BEGGING TO BE WRITTEN!

How the heck did I end up with Italy, Russia, and Canada competing for world domination anyways? O.O ...Ah, whatever. Oh, yeah, in case you were confused, thoughts are in italics.

Super happy title, by the way.

Chapter 17:

A tomato box fairy will transform those tears into sauce

Italy sat alone in the rubble of what was once Berlin. He had come to say a final goodbye to his best friend Germany. He had already been to London, Paris, Madrid, Bern, Vienna, Budapest, Kiev, and Warsaw. He would be heading to Tokyo next, even though it was now part of Russia.

But for now, he sat in the remains of Germany's capital and remembered.

He remembered all those times he had run through Switzerland just to sleep in Germany's bed. He remembered training here with the rest of the Axis. He remembered making pasta for Germany while the other nation cleaned. He remembered arguing with Romano about Germany's merits, trying to calm his brother down. He remembered taking siestas while Germany grumbled about him slacking off.

And he remembered the friendship that had first started there, in World War I, and had lasted through the centuries, only to be cut short by a war that had thrown the world into chaos and insanity.

Austria's music played softly in his ear.

Italy sighed and stood up. "Addio, Germania." For now.

He left without a backwards glance.

Italy spent the plane ride to Tokyo sleeping. He really couldn't do anything else, as he had already sent word ahead of his arrival, and hadn't brought along any entertainment. So, he simply slept.

When he got off the plane, he was surprised at the level of activity. But Japan had surrendered long before Russia had had a chance to bomb Tokyo, so it would make since that life would go on as normal.

Italy headed toward Japan's home. It had been untouched since he had last seen it, right before Russia had invaded. The only difference was that the plants that once bloomed brightly were now withered, and the garden was a bit unkempt. But that was alright, it was better this way. Italy set down his bags and silently let himself in.

He glanced around the room. There. That's where Japan usually kept it. Italy reached into his suitcase and brought out a long, slender object wrapped in cloth.

Japan's katana.

He had come to return it to its rightful place.

Italy knelt and unwrapped the bundle, revealing the sword in its sheath. He tugged on the grip, and the blade was revealed. It reflected the light in the room, singing quietly as the Mediterranean nation pulled it completely out of its sheath and examined it.

It was unmarred by use, still as bright and as strong as the day it was made. Italy wondered a bit at this, but put it out of his mind and carefully returned it to its sheath. He placed the weapon on the stand that Japan had always kept it on and bowed to it, the way the island nation had once taught him to bow to elders. He said a quick prayer, then looked up at the ceiling.

Japan, wherever you are... I'm coming.

When news reached Russia that Italy had been spotted in Tokyo, at Japan's home no less, he was intrigued. What was the smaller nation doing there? He sent a team to investigate, and to capture the nation if possible. But they came back empty handed, saying that they hadn't found anyone in the home of the former nation of Japan, and there had been no trails to follow.

Russia sighed in exasperation. Pity, he thought. I was looking forward to meeting with him.

Little did he know that Italy was already on a plane.

A plane to Moscow.

Italy stepped off the plane with sigh. Finally, he was at the end of his journey. Soon... Are you waiting for me?

There was no need to hide his presence any longer. He went through customs using his diplomatic passport. The officer did a double take when he saw that it was Italian, but didn't say anything. Soon, Italy was stepping out onto the streets of Moscow.

He headed in the direction of Russia's house. It had been a while since he had been there, but he still remembered the way. He remembered the locations of all the other nations' homes.

There it was. Italy stopped in front of the door and just stood there for a while, mentally preparing himself. Then he reached up and rang the doorbell.

After a few moments, Russia opened the door. The northern nation's shock mirrored Italy's own. Russia looked bad. His eyes were sunken, his hair a mess, and he looked like he hadn't slept in ages.

"Italy... What are you doing here?"

The European chose not to answer, instead asking a question of his own. "Russia... What's wrong?"

The nation in question sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Can you not feel it? It's the war. It won't leave me alone anymore. Canada's forces are fresh and strong, and yours aren't too bad either, considering that they have been fighting this entire time."

Italy nodded. "This war is getting to all of us, isn't it?" He gave Russia a hug. "Don't worry, it won't last much longer."

Russia looked up in alarm. "What do you mean?"

Italy gave him a smile that almost tore his breath away. It was almost exactly the same as his old smile, from the times before this had all happened.

"Ve, please tell me you'll let me go."

"L-Let you go?"

"Si. I've heard that you were planning on annexing my country to keep me alive, and I can't stand any more of this. It would be better if you just took over."

"But... You're the only one left."

"That's not true, Russia. Canada is still here."

"He's young... He hasn't seen what the world could come to."

"Oh Russia, that's not true. He's been in both World Wars. And he's survived so far in this war, hasn't he?"

"Da, I suppose..."

"Promise me, Ivan, that when the time comes, don't just annex my country. If you're going to take over, take over completely, and let me go, OK?"

"... Da. I promise, Feliciano"

"Good. Take this."

Italy shoved Austria's music player in his hands, then turned and walked away, leaving Russia standing in his door looking lost.

When Italy's time finally came, Russia found him in his home. Bombs fell all around them like rain, but neither nation seemed to notice.

"You... kept... your promise..." Italy's eyes were full of gratitude.

"Da, I did."

"Grazie..."

"Всегда пожалуйста."

Italy took a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, it was as if he was seeing something Russia couldn't see.

"I'm coming..."

A look of peace came over his face, and Italy faded away.

Italian Republic - conquered by Russia - gone

Author's Note: Only two nations left...

In case you were confused, the entire chapter, Italy was longing for the company of his friends, believing that if he died, he would see them again.

Title is from Italy's character song "Let's Boil Hot Water"

Translations:

Addio, Germania = goodbye, Germany

Grazie = thank you

Всегда пожалуйста = you're welcome (pronounced 'vsegda pozhaluysta')