Germany simply stared in bewilderment. Belarus had yet to move, but from the look on her face she was expecting some sort of answer and soon or else there would be painful consequences. The German nation racked his mind of all his previous encounters with her brother, but nothing recent was coming to mind that particularly stood out and would necessitate the need for this unexpected visit. Unless she spoke of his betrayal to their agreement, but even that didn't seem enough as Russia was more than capable of handling himself and would not need to send his younger sister to assist him.

And while this standoff occurred, Italy only grew angrier. "Why are you here?" he demanded, making sure to return the cold glare, "Can't you see that we are busy?"

Her violet eyes flickered over and sized up of the smaller brunette. "I'm here because brother hasn't been acting like himself lately." Her hand unconsciously clenched at her knife, her knuckles turning white from the force. "I am looking to you, his enemies, for causing his pain and because I care about him I want to make it right."

Italy rolled his eyes. "Girls, could you get any more ridiculous?" His gaze locked onto her's in challenge while his lips curled into a sneer. "The mighty Russia cannot take care of himself and had to send a girl in his place? How pathetic."

The taunt made Belarus bare her teeth in fury. "He doesn't know I'm here."

"Oh, I see." Italy mocked, "That's even worse. Not even able to keep better control of his women."

"I've had enough of you." She growled lowly only receiving a sinister grin in response.

"If you've had enough, faccia di culo, then leave. No one is stopping you," his smile stretched wider, "yet…"

"Italy…" Germany warned, watching as Belarus's face grew darker.

The brunette nation chuckled as he stood and patted the blonde on the top of the head. "Don't worry patatina, I will take care of this."

Italy turned and faced the female nation, stepping off the blanket and away before Germany could do anything to stop him, grin stretched to manic proportions a slight chuckle echoing from his throat. Belarus tensed but held her ground, mentally readying for an attack by carefully tracking his every move, but grew more rigid when he stilled. "You interrupted my date." Italy told her, letting his hands drop to his sides, "Do you know what happens to those who cross me?" Belarus didn't even flinch despite the cold threat that hung on his words, nor when the smile disappeared and was replaced by a grim frown. "I make sure they never do it again."

Without warning, Italy lunged forward, his own knife suddenly appearing in his hand, and giving his opponent a fraction of a second to avoid being sliced by its thin blade. The ash blonde pulled her knife up to protect her face as he dove straight for her throat and she quickly followed with a kick upwards making him step back and giving just enough space for Belarus to right herself and go on the offensive.

Italy sidestepped the next jab and grabbed her by the wrist, yanking her arm up and out of the way leaving the female nation's entire right side exposed for his next attack. Quick thinking and a spin twisted her out of the way narrowly missing being cut, the skirts of her dress billowing out around her legs as she dropped and attempted sweep his feet out from under him, only to have him leap clear of it.

Their movements were both dangerous and beautiful and it left the German nation to both fear and watch in awe of Italy's skill. There had been a number of times that he had witnessed the brunette's skill since his change, but never had he seen its full potential. The deadly display was stunning as both nations fought using combinations of moves that would leave most professional dancers jealous. Nothing was left uncalculated and their reaction times were fast as they flowed almost seamlessly from attacking to defensive and back, never missing a step.

And Germany sat to the side, tensing every time Italy narrowly missed another slice of Belarus's knife. He wanted so desperately to help, to somehow end this before Italy became significantly hurt, but could not move to stop it. In the back of his mind, he knew he really could have done little to help anyway, as this was a type of fight he would only get in the way.

But if there was ever an opening, he would rescue that little brunette.

That time never came, however, as after a fairly impressive spin kick Belarus lost her footing on the grass. Her boot only slid a small amount, but it was enough of a distraction for Italy's blade to catch on her wrist. She hissed and tried to jump away only for another to follow, this time to her side. Her hand clamped over the bleeding cut as she staggered from the pain and attempted continue their fight. She managed a few more good attacks and blocks before Italy caught her wrist and twisted her arm forcing her fingers to release her weapon.

Instantly Germany was there and had her arms pulled behind her back where she flailed in his hold attempting to get free and spat curses at them both. Italy smiled as he panted and picked up her discarded weapon, turning it over in his hand and eyeing it like a trophy. "You're pretty good." He casually remarked, earning a glare and something that sounded dirty in Belarusian. Italy tsked and shook his head. "Pity I am going to have to make sure it never happens again. I hope whatever your reason was is worth the loss of your fingers."

Belarus struggled again and Germany only stared in horror. "It doesn't matter." She growled, narrowing her eyes and panting after trying and failing to free herself. "I would do it again. You changed him! You changed my brother! I'll never forgive any of you!"

Italy paused and twirled her knife around in his hand. "What about your brother?" Italy asked in a bored tone.

"As if you don't know, свіння." She snarled, her voice lowering briefly before rising to screams once again. "He isn't himself. His is not Russia! You have done something to him, I know you have! I want him back! I want my Russia back!"

"That's enough." Italy rubbed at an ear, glaring disapprovingly down at her. "Why must your kind be so high pitched?"

"Italy," Germany spoke seriously, "what are you doing?"

"Patience, Tesoro." Italy chided before returning to the girl. "We haven't heard anything, so perhaps you are making all this up." He clucked his tongue and shook his finger at her. "I thought young ladies were not mean to lie."

"I'm not lying!" she hissed. "He's disbanded our union and sent everyone home! Now all he does is lock himself inside his study. He doesn't eat, he doesn't sleep and never has he smiled."

Italy grinned, his white teeth glinting as peered closer. "I still don't believe you. Perhaps we shall see if you say the same tale at nine fingers…"

Belarus started to struggle harder and Germany had to fight to keep his hold on her. "Italy!" he shouted, trying to pull the ash blonde nation away, "that is enough!"

"Oh Germany," Italy sighed sadly, "She needs to learn not to be so interruptive."

There was a loud crash that resounded in the forest, not far from where they stood, and all three nations froze and stared into its dark depths searching for the source. There was more noises, the snapping of tree limbs and the thuds of heavy footsteps that steadily drew closer to their clearing. Germany unconsciously took a small step back to brace himself for whatever was about to appear. Judging by the sounds, it was something large.

Belarus hung her head letting her long strands of hair hide her face as she whispered, "He's here…"

Sure enough, only moments after a shadow appeared and stumbled out of the trees with as much grace as a heavily intoxicated man, tripping over his own feet and nearly landing on his face as he wildly waved his arms and managed to catch himself. After making sure he had his feet firmly underneath him, the largest nation stood up straight and gazed at the trio with tired eyes.

It was almost instantly recognizable that something was wrong with the nation standing before them. His clothing was all shades of grey and black and dark circles hung underneath his eyes showing it had likely been a long while since he had gotten any sleep. His expression was blank and empty, like the person standing there was not fully there, and if that was not enough, his eyes shown with a deep shade of red that looked similar to what Prussia's used to be.

"Russia," Italy sniffed, crossing his arms and looking impatiently towards the new arrival. Said nation turned his head, half of his face still hidden within the confines of his scarf. "What are you doing here?"

Russia blinked slowly and bowed his head. "I am here to retrieve my sister."

"Sweet," the Italian mocked, "but we have her and I don't wish to give her back yet. She was terribly disruptive to a date that Germany and I was on and I find that sort of behavior rather rude."

The Russian was silent for a time as he seemed to ponder what he had been told before he replied. "What about a compromise?"

"What sort of compromise?" Germany returned watching the other suspiciously.

"For Belarus, I will give you whatever you wish." Russia replied in a low monotone, nose never leaving his scarf and muffling his voice slightly.

"Anything…?" Germany started slowly, still not believing any of this.

"Your surrender." Italy declared, narrowing his eyes at the other nation.

Russia nodded slowly and Belarus began to struggle again. "брат! нет!"

"Done!" Italy chirped looking incredibly pleased and looking towards the stunned blonde nation beside him. "Okay Germany, that's enough. Let her go."

Stuck in a trance, the German released the female nation who glared at him before running back to her older brother who was already turning away to leave. "Russia! What are you doing?! Take that back! You cannot surrender! Don't-"

"That is enough, Belarus." Russia said in the same bored tone he had before, "Wise men do not seek violence where it can be avoided."

She scowled but did not say anything else, glumly following him back into the woods and soon the crashing noises of his movements quieted.

Germany was in a daze, only dimly aware of the fact that Italy was doing a victory cheer and jumping up to hang from his neck. "Did you hear that?" he grinned, placing a quick peck on his lips, "Russia surrenders!"

He nodded dumbly still staring after where they had gone, unknowing agreeing to Italy's proposal of an impromptu celebration that was the exact same thing as what was going to occur before Belarus' interruption. There was really only the one thought going through the blonde's head.

Russia had surrendered.

AN: Cries of apology from me for being so late today! I had an exam, I turned in a 13 page essay and had an impromptu day trip to London this week. And I've been waiting AGES for this chapter (you guys literally have no idea. Something with 2p!Italy vs. Belarus sounds epic inside my head and I wanted to try and do it some justice).

patatina: little potato (what else would an Italian call their German boyfriend? :P )

свіння: [Belarusian] Pig

Tesoro: Darling

брат! нет!: [Russian] Brother! No!