AN: We've finally gotten over the first major bump in the fanfic road! Romano and Germany were able to bond a bit (granted they were drunk, and they bonded over mutual angst, but that's kind of how they're going to work...such difficult characters!). But now it is time to make others board the angst train! Everyone's getting hit at least a little bit. Yet we're over the first hurdle, so the plot is finally picking up! The original plan was only for 10 chapters...I may extend that a bit...

I'm so thankful to all of you readers! I couldn't continue this story without your support. GerMano needs more love, and I hope to help you get your fill. I apologize for the long wait. For some reason I had major writer's block with this chapter. This chapter is shorter than I would have liked but I thought I had kept you all waiting long enough.

Meh. I hate this chapter. Just look forward to more drama in the future!

Random fact: There is a type of tomato called a 'German pink'. That is the name I am now going to use for GerMano. Heehee...

Chapter 7-A New Day

Over the years Japan had grown used to the time difference between his country and those of his European friends. Despite Japan's old age his body was always quick to adjust to the change and, as long as he was able to fall asleep with the sun, he was able to also rise with it. Thus the Asian nation was not surprised when he woke just as the first rays of sunlight reached through his window. The clock told him that it was just past 6:40.

Japan quickly prepared for the day and was downstairs and in the kitchen before the loud clock in the hallway struck seven. He was not surprised that Germany was not there. Japan had expected the blond to go for an early morning jog, or whatever it was that Germany did for training these days. But what Japan did not expect was that breakfast had not been made and that the kitchen had been left uncleaned since the night before. Germany would never have left the dishes from last night's dinner in the sink. Furthermore, a startlingly high number of empty beer bottles cluttered up the second basin. What had the German done last night?

With a sigh Japan set out to clean the kitchen. He did not mind the extra work. It gave him a chance to focus on other things as he mindlessly tidied the room. Of course his first thoughts were about his German friend. Had North Italy's and Spain's visit really driven him to drink? The beer bottles proved that it did. Japan sighed again as he slowly scrubbed the surface of the table. The whole romantic fiasco with the European nations needed to be stopped before Germany or Romano were hurt again. Was it possible for Japan to help or would his interference only cause more pain?

There was nothing stopping Japan from trying. He had seen the pain. He knew it could not go on much longer, and Japan could never forgive himself if he stood silently by as his friends hurt each other.

The Asian nation finished with the table and moved across the room to clear out the sink. He had only a few solutions in his mind. The first would be to make Spain and Veneziano leave, but that was unlikely. Even worse they would probably take Romano with them, which would cause the Italian further pain. No, Japan had to avoid that at all costs.

A more desperate solution would be to find a way to split up Spain and Veneziano and restore the previous status quo. It wasn't one he was fond of, and the only reason he even considered it was because of his friend Hungary. She had planned on doing just that when she found out about the couple just a month ago. However, Japan did not approve of it. If Spain and North Italy were able to find happiness together, then why should anyone stop them? No, they should be left alone. What Japan should focus on was a way to help Germany and Romano deal with their depression. The two nations were rather private, and did not show how they really felt about the new couple, but Japan saw it. He saw how closed off Germany had become. He had seen the empty looks the man gave his old Italian friend. Germany was strong but he was trying hard not to break. Romano was not much better. He was better able to hide the cause of his depression but in return he lashed out violently against the two he held responsible for his misery. If Romano was not careful then Spain and North Italy would discover why he was so angry with them. Japan was sure the older Italian would die of mortification. So what could he do to prevent that?

"There must be a way," muttered Japan as he looked over the sparkling clean kitchen. His only answer was a low grumbling coming from his stomach. "Perhaps I should make breakfast. The others will surely wake soon." And while they ate Japan would observe them and try to come up with a plan.

Japan always did his best thinking when busy with housework anyway. So he quickly went through Germany's fridge and started to prepare the fish he had found there.

North Italy was pulled from sleep by gentle fingers running through his hair, lightly massaging his scalp. His lips parted with a sigh of contentment before his eyes slowly blinked open. The bright sunlight that shined through the east-facing window temporarily blinded him but his eyes quickly adjusted. A mixture of auburn and soft beige greeted him, a mix of the colors of his hair and of the sheets he was wrapped up in rather tightly.

Italy's bangs were slowly brushed away from his face. He looked above him to see Spain sitting up, leaning against the headrest as he threaded the fingers of his right hand through Italy's hair. "Buenos días, sunshine," the tanner nation said as he smiled widely down at him. Italy smiled back and wrapped his arms tightly around Spain's middle and rested his head on the other nation's stomach.

"Buongiorno," Italy muttered softly as he nuzzled in closer. The man's bare skin (for he rarely wore a shirt to bed) instantly warmed him. He breathed in deeply and was flooded with the aromas of fresh earth and sweet spices, like saffron...or basil. "Mmm...I want tortellini in Italian sausage soup for breakfast," the half-nation chirped happily before he covered a yawn.

A deep chuckle shook Spain and Italy felt the rumble through his stomach, which made him smile wider. The hand returned to play with his hair as Spain asked, "Thinking of breakfast already? And with something that specific...Do you think Germany has tortellini or Italian sausage?" Italy pouted and tightened his hold on the taller nation.

"No...But it sounds so good right now," the Italian whined sadly through his pout as he sat up and rested his head on Spain's shoulder. The other man's dark hair tickled his nose as he let his eyes drift shut again. Spain shifted in place for a moment and wrapped a strong arm around Italy's waist to pull him closer to his side.

"What if Germany already made breakfast? He gets up early, doesn't he?"

"He always does," said Italy as he wrapped his arms loosely around Spain's chest. The soft heat from the other man's skin was slowly lulling him back to sleep. The thumb gently rubbing his side did not help. "B-but I want good food...real Italian food...ve..."

"...Feli? Are you asleep again?"

"Not yet," muttered Italy with a pout. His eyes slowly opened again and looked up at Spain pleadingly. "If Germany hasn't made breakfast yet, can we go back home and make tortellini soup?"

"Of course, we can do whatever you like," Spain said happily. Veneziano smiled up at him tiredly and the Spaniard let out a small squeal of delight. "So cute!" Italy's smile widened and he snuggled in closer. Spain easily pulled him onto his lap and rested his chin on top of the other man's head. "Well, Feli. I don't feel like getting up for Germany's breakfast, so you'll just have to stay here and keep me company."

Italy giggled and wrapped his arms around Spain's chest, his head nestled in against the man's neck again. "I don't mind, Toni," he said as he tried to smother another giggle.

"Good. Because I'm not going to move."

Italy's stomach grumbled loudly. "Well, maybe we should go see if Germany cooked breakfast yet..."

"Aw, but I wanted to cuddle with you!"

"B-but Toni...I'm hungry!"

Spain sighed and lightly patted the Italian's cheek. "I suppose I should go get some food then. You stay here, I'll bring it up so we can have breakfast in bed. Romantic, si?" North Italy nodded and kissed Spain's cheek, then got off of his lap and sat on the bed again.

"Come back soon, okay? And find out where Romano went off to?"

"Of course. It won't take me long at all, Feli. You go ahead and get comfy." The smaller man smiled and quickly buried himself in the beige sheets again. Within moments Italy had fallen back asleep.

Spain smiled down at the sleeping Italian and pressed a soft kiss to the man's temple before he walked out of the room. The door was shut as quietly as possible before Spain started down the stairs. Halfway down a strange scent met his nose and he stopped walking to try and figure it out. It wasn't the pungent scent of fried potatoes or sausages, like he had expected. Instead there was a much stronger smell of fish and...something else? It was very potent and floral...oh! It was the tea that Veneziano had drunk the day before! That meant that Japan must have woken up earlier than everyone else and started breakfast. Spain smiled and nodded to himself, proud he had figured it out. He continued down the stairs and through the entry hall towards the kitchen. His eyes drifted over to the living room as he passed.

Spain froze, one leg lifted to take another step. His eyes widened in surprise as his brain slowly processed what he was seeing. He suddenly lurched into the living room and grabbed onto the door frame for support. Right in front of him, holding his startled attention, were two figures twisted together on the couch.

Germany-dressed in the same clothes he wore last night-was laying on his back. His head and neck were propped up uncomfortably against the arm of the couch but his face seemed strangely relaxed. A few blond strands had fallen from his usually tidy hair and rested just above his peacefully closed eyes. That was in spite of both the cramped position of his upper spine and the tanned arm, far too dark to belong to the pale man, awkwardly nestled between his chin and collar. No, that arm belonged to the smaller man, the one who was tangled up in a white blanket and the German's limbs. That arm belonged to Lovino Vargas. The personification of South Italy looked far too comfortable with his head laid on Germany's broad chest and his limbs twisted with the taller man's.

This is where Romano had escaped to? Spain had noted his absence the moment he woke, but he just thought the younger half-nation had run off early for food. Instead...he slept on top of Germany on a too-small couch? He preferred sleeping with the German he hated more than he wanted to sleep with Spain and his own brother? That thought hurt Spain far more than he thought it would. Merely staring at the two peaceful, slumbering nations hurt more than he expected. But why?

The Spaniard shook his head and stepped back. He didn't know why, but the sight of Romano and Germany all wrapped together just felt wrong. Didn't Romano hate Germany? Then why would he do this? Spain bit his lip in concentration and looked to the side. This didn't make any sense to him. Why-oh.

Beer bottles were scattered on the small coffee table.

An empty wine bottle leaned against the side of the couch.

The acidic scent of alcohol hung in the air, somehow cutting through the pungent smells of fish and tea drifting in from the kitchen.

So the reason Romano had consented to share a couch with Germany was because he had been drunk? Even that did not seem right. Romano hated drunkards. He called them unstylish assholes. Apparently the Italian considered 'unstylish' a grave insult. He had also thought that 'German' was an insult too. So why was he wrapped up with the most German of German men, Germany himself? It didn't make sense! And Spain was almost always able to somewhat make sense of what Romano did. He raised the boy, he knew him better than even North Italy did! This, however, did not make any sense to Spain. It went against almost everything he knew about the nation. Romano hated people who got drunk. Romano hated Germany. Romano absolutely hated cuddling.

So why did he get drunk with Germany and cuddle with him on the couch?!

And why did it bother Spain so much?