Italy wasn't sure how long he had stayed at Japan's house, a few hours at the very least. And during that time it was very… interesting. But he did know he was glad he had stayed behind.

Just as soon as Germany had left the house, Japan had sat on the couch, thankfully just barely missing where Italy was sitting, and took the blanket off of the table to put on his lap. Once he had, the silk bags and the knife were revealed in all their glory once again.

While glancing to the knife once, Italy looking over to the bag, seeing that there was a large one and a small one hidden right beside it. He seemed to recall when Japan had gone out and about sometimes, like to the meeting, that he would have the smaller bag on hand. However the larger one, this was the first time he actually saw it. However he knew better than to look through it while Japan was right there.

Japan leaned back against the couch, closing his eyes for a bit with a quiet sigh following it. He remained still for a little while before leaning upwards again, pulling back his sleeves to show his darkened colored arms. He ran his fingers over his wrist and downwards, rubbing them together as if testing how dry it was on his skin.

Italy winced at the sight of them, having forgotten that Japan was more involved with his body that night. He didn't know it was that much though. Or… was it? He tilted his head, seeing that not all of his arms were the same tint of red. It all still looked the brownish-red color as drying blood would look, but the spot where he was rubbing looked more to the dark red part, not very much but at least a little. Why was that?

His mental question was soon answered as Japan reached forward and took the knife gently in his hand, tapping the tip of it against his wrist as if in thought. Italy's eyebrows raised at this. He wasn't going to….

"… Japan?"

Without missing a beat, Japan pushed the tip of the blade into his flesh, gliding it down his arm without any effort, as if it was scissors running right through delicate paper. It only took but a moment for his own to spill out from the large cut into his arm, overflowing and hitting into the carpet. As he did before, Japan rubbed his fingers up and down his wrist, as if spreading it around to cover his forearm.

"Mine… mine… not his… mine…"

Italy shivered in his spot, subconsciously scooting away from him as he saw this strange almost ritualistic act happen in front of him. That's why the knife was red, he was cutting himself with it. Or, was he? The arm looked pretty fresh when he pulled it out of his sleeve.

Japan leaned back into his chair, his skin growing paler by the minute as he just gave an almost relieved sigh. He obviously didn't show any care as his blood poured out freely without any pressure being applied to it, now getting onto his casual wear robes and further on the carpet. However the light smile that was on his face soon faded, being at first neutral but then shifted to a disapproving frown. Reaching out a shaky hand, he took hold of the smaller silk bag and messed with it a little.

Italy took this chance to lean in to look at it, trying to see what exactly the special bag was doing and what he was going to use it for. After some more shifting with it, a very small needle poked out of the fabric of the bag. He blinked at this, tilting his head before watching Japan pull the needle portion over to his inner elbow and gently pushed the tiny needle into his bloodied flesh, gently pinching on the contents of the bag itself, as if pushing some contained liquid inside its hidden casing, through the needle and into his veins.

"Aaaahnn…" Japan groaned, almost in both a tone of pain, relief and hint of shame. But soon after he wobbled on his spot on the couch, not being long until he slid from his place and flopped on the rest of the couch. Italy jumped out of the way since the other was now taking up the entire space of the couch, frowning as blood continued to run down his arm and cause more a mess around him, and he wasn't even sure if Japan was conscious anymore.

What even was that? Was… he taking drugs? Was that why he was acting so strange this entire time? That 'butterfly' feeling he had was just the feeling of being high on whatever he was taking? But… but why?

Italy frowned as he looked down at the bloody mess of furniture and carpet in front of him, but soon his attention went to the larger silk bag in front of him. If the small one had a drug in it, did this one have more? It didn't seem that way, seemed more solid.

Taking a dry gulp, he reached forward and concentrated to be able to gently touch the object. Whatever it was, it was very cold and slick, even if he was touching it through the bag he could feel it. He kept his hand on it for a while, and blinked as he felt it grow warmer under his touch. If he was alive that could make sense, but since he's just a spirit and had no body heat, that didn't make sense.

But then…

It visibly pulsed, the bag suddenly covered in something warm and wet on the inside.

Italy yelped as it had suddenly moved and where he was touching felt really wet, pulling back his hand quickly as he watched it. However, after he pulled back, it continued to remain still. Just what exactly was in there!? Clenching and unclenching his hand, he leaned forward to be able to pull the string of the top off so he could exactly see what it was.

"Hnnn…?"

He froze at hearing Japan give off a curious hum, turning over to see Japan looking right up at him. He blinked, Japan blinked back. He tilted his head to the side, Japan mirrored his moves. Moved his head to the side, was copied once again. Could… could Japan see him!?

"Japan?..." He said hesitantly, being answered back with a few more curious yet tired blinks from Japan. Was that a yes or no?

However, it wasn't too long until Japan's eyes widened, suddenly looking down to the red splotches all around him.

"Chikushō!"

Italy looked down as well to see what made Japan suddenly seem almost panicked. He blinked though as he realized the red everywhere was slowly beginning to retreat in reverse, climbing back up the couch and Japans legs to travel back into the gaping wound in his arm. Italy tilted his head at this, never have seen recovery happening this quickly on a nation. Was it because of the drug he took? Did he do it on purpose? Though from the sounds of it, it was the exact opposite of what Japan was wanting.

"No no no noonoonononono…" Japan muttered over and over to himself, looking to his arm and seeing that the cut was sealing itself back up until soon both his arm and the area around him looked untouched. He pushed himself to try to sit up, "nononononononono—yes yes yes yessyesyesyeeeess…" He grinned as he had seemed to have pushed himself a bit too far and now leaned the other way so that curve of his back was against the armrest, stretching his back in a pleasant manner.

Carefully studying the situation, Italy leaned back over to the table and batted away the knife from Japan's reach, seeing that he was too distracted in his new relaxed position to be looking over. Did he do this a lot? From what it sounded like before when he first cut himself, it sounded like this was done quite often.

He frowned at this, wanting to do something about this but knew he wasn't exactly in the right position to do so. Perhaps it'd be wise to just go home and tell Germany what was happening, maybe he could be able to tell him what's going on and he could contact Japan's family to get this looked at. He jumped up a little to be able to get his feet off of the ground, looking down to his drugged up friend once last time before flying off through the house and to the sky to head back to Germany's house.

This was worse than he thought... much much worse…

It didn't take much longer to land in Germany's house, grinning wide as he was just glad to be back to his current home.

"Germany! I'm back! I got a lot of stuff to tell you about!"

He beamed for a moment as he waited to hear Germany call out to say where he was. He paused though, not hearing anything back to signify where he was. Looking at the time, he should have been back at least an hour ago. Perhaps he wasn't in a good place to call out?

He began to walk around the house curiously, once in a while calling out Germany's name to try to get some sort of acknowledgement. Soon he reached the kitchen though, pausing as he saw Prussia sitting at the dining table with his head in his hands. He frowned at seeing him look so distressed, coming over closer to see two plates of food laid out in front of him, one obviously for him and the other across the table, apparently for Germany. Prussia had made dinner for them.. and Germany still wasn't around?

"Get a grip, Prussia… he's okay… It's only been three hours… he said it'd only take less than an hour… he's okay... he's okay… he said he'll be home. He promised me. He promised me…" Prussia looked up from his hands to the plates on the table, his chin trembling and eyes shimmering even more in that moment before stuffing his face back into his hands, "Oh Gott, Germany, where are you…"

Italy stood up straighter at hearing this, realizing that they must have been gone longer than he thought. And to make Prussia worry like this without a phone call, what even was he doing? He blinked though, seeing Prussia getting up from his chair, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve.

"Can't worry... won't worry… Maybe a nice cold one will calm down my nerves, yea that's it."

Prussia turned on his heel to start heading to the fridge, Italy not bothering to move as he knew he usually didn't affect him whenever he went through. However, when he did go through him as expected, he froze in his tracks. A little confused, Italy went up to him to look at his face, his eyes widening as he recognized that disturbed enlightened look on his face, just as he had seen Germany and Japan go through. Was it.. possible he was starting to affect him too?

"He wouldn't be out on his own this long without his own agenda," Prussia mumbled to himself, his gaze shifting down to the floor as something was going through his mind at a fast pace. "Just like Japan and himself.. would he be trying to do it again? No no that's… but he was going to see him… but why would he…."

Prussia paused in his thoughts before suddenly heading out of the kitchen.

"Fuck this, I'm calling the god damn police. Gilbird! Get your coat, we're having a search party!"

Italy looked back as he heard a small chirp come out of Prussia's room. This was getting out of hand. But there wasn't exactly anything we could do. He sighed, hoping that this was going to somehow end up well. He sighed, not sure if he should stick around either. But what could he do? Following Prussia around might be harmful since now he's able to affect him. What could be possible?

"Mm… I haven't visited fratello in a while. I hope he's doing okay."

With another jumped to the air, Italy took off into the sky and flew off towards his brother's house, not having to go too far since his and Germany's house wasn't too far away from each other. He landed in the front door, pausing before entering into the house.

"Romano! I'm home!"

He gave a small wary smile at the call, knowing very well that his brother would not be able to hear him. But at this point he just hoped that Romano was home. Though it didn't take long for him to wander around the house before hearing his brother's voice coming from the kitchen.

"Where the fucking fuck is my fork? It was just here. God dammit."

Italy quickly ran over to the entrance of the kitchen, smiling as he saw Romano looking through the drawers, mostly the silverware drawer. He looked like he was doing better than last he saw him, little bit more color in his cheeks and looking well fed. Was he just out a run? Looked like it. He glanced down, quickly giggling to himself as he saw the fork Romano needed right in front of him on the shelf. Silly silly fratello.

Leaving Romano to it, Italy looked around the kitchen more to see a basket of tomatoes on the counter, wishing he could have a taste of one of them before he turned and looked around more. After some more looking around, he tilted his head to see that the door to the basement was open. That's odd, they usually kept it closed. Was he doing something down there?

Without another thought, Italy skipped down the steps of the stairs, seeing that the basement was mostly dark, except for one light on in the corner. He looked over toward the lighted area, and froze.

Germany? What was he doing there?

Quietly he approached the seemingly sleeping Germany, seeing him laying on one of their spare futons with a black blanket over him, covering up to his neck. Was he sleeping? It looked like it. He was still breathing after all. But to be fair, he knew he should at least test the waters.

"Germany? What are you doing here?"

Germany stirred lightly at being called to, weakly opening his eyes to see who was talking to them, only to have them widen to as full as physically possible.

"I… Italy…"

"Prussia's worried sick about you, Germany! How come you're over here taking a nap?"

"You… You need to get out of here…"

Italy blinked at this, pursing his lips in a bit of confusion.

"How come?"

Germany didn't say a word, just staring up to the Italian spirit with a look in his eyes that begged for him to just trust his word. However, this look was ignored as Italy's gaze went down to the blanket. He didn't remember owning this blanket, was it new? He reached over and gripped the blanket, his ears perked as he felt a familiar warm moistness as he felt at Japan's house.

"G… G-Germany?" He said aloud, stammering as he looked up to him in perhaps hope that he would explain why it felt like this. However, Germany frowned right back at him and averted his eyes, not saying a word. Taking in a deep breath, Italy looked back down before yanking the blanket back and letting it fall to the ground.

He gasped.

His vision blurred instantly.

He screamed harder than he had any memory of doing so before.

In front of him laid Germany, eyes still averted away as his torso was slit open and pulled apart in a very very familiar fashion. Certain organs still remained on the inside, moving to fluids being moved and pumped through them, while others were still as they had seemed to be disconnected from his body in general. Meanwhile on his sides, both his wrists and ankles were bound down to the table, making him immobilized for the whole process.

Italy staggered backwards, his own desecrated body flashing up in his eyes, memories of before when Japan and Germany had cut into him and slowly took out his innards one by one consumed his mind. He smacked his hands over his eyes and crumbled to the ground, hyperventilating as now the image of Germany's viscera was burned into his thoughts.

"Ah-haaaa! I fucking found it! Fucking fork, fuck yea!"

Italy looked up from his now damp hands, turning his attention toward the stairs where he heard Romano humming to himself and skipping happily down the stairs, just as he himself was doing earlier. He whipped his head around to Germany, eye contact being made between them.

"He… H-He?..."

"Get out… I don't want you to… to see this… leave me…"

"I'm not leaving without you!"

Italy practically shrieked his retort before slapping his hands over his mouth, watching with horrified as Romano skipped merrily past him, a large serving fork in his hands that they usually used when they would do round table meals. What… what was he going to do with that!?

"I knew this wouldn't be complete without a bit of utensils, euh? I bet you used your fucking hands, you fucking disgusting pig." Romano growled for a moment before his smile went wide, turning the fork in his hand idly. "You're so so lucky, getting to have civilized utensils used on you. Such luxury wasn't available on the island, was it?"

Italy looked back and forth up to Romano and back to Germany. He couldn't believe what he was hearing! Was he… was he planning to really…

Italy's thoughts were answered as soon Romano plunged the fork into Germany's open body, directly having stabbed it into his small intestines. He paused for a moment, seeming to try to gage for a reaction from Germany, raising an eyebrow as Germany just closed his eyes and clenched his teeth.

"Tch, you were so vocal earlier, potato bastard. What's wroooong? Italian got your toooounge?" Romano chuckled quietly to himself before he broke out into full out laughter, turning the fork in his hand to pull the intestines from its spot and begin to curl around the utensil like a noodle. "If not now, I might be having it soon anyway! Kyheehahahaha!"

Italy bit his lip as he looked to Germany, seeing him stifle a scream out loud and open an eye to look to him. He realized quickly he was trying not to scream for his sake, not wanting him to be fully exposed to this madness. He breathed quickly in and out as he saw Romano take out the fork, pulling out the others intestines along with it before stabbing it back in numerous times. Italy shut his eyes, squeezing hot the hot tears of distress as he wrapped his arms around himself.

He was useless again… useless… useless… he can't even stop what happened to him to fall upon his best friend… useless…

Romano's fork suddenly paused in the air, his smiling vanishing as the faint ring of the doorbell was heard from upstairs. He huffed, dropping the fork ungracefully back into the open wound along with the mess of coiled organs that was pulled along with it.

"For fucks sake, who the hell could that be." He grumbled before going up the stairs, seemingly unperturbed about heading back up with splashes of blood on his body from the recent attack.

The basement was silent as the straggled screams of the German and the insane laughs of the Italian were both gone. Still shaky, Italy looked up from his hands to see the still Germany. He crawled over on his hands and knees to be next to the German, sitting on his knees next to him. His chin trembled uncontrollably as he now saw some blood trickling down the others chin and cheek from the turmoil that happened in his organs.

"Germany… I… I-I'm so.. so sorry… I never thought…" Italy tried to say, unable to fully apologize for such a fate to fall upon him as he quietly sobbed, bowing his head as he couldn't even bare to look him in the eyes.

"….Ha… hahhaha…"

Italy looked up at this, blinking in confusion as he saw Germany weakly smiling at him. What on earth was he doing laughing at a time like this? He wasn't going to yell at him or curse at him?"

"G… Germany?"

"So this…. This is what is felt like… to be torn apart… to know you are to be eaten…" Germany murmured quietly, his voice fragile but still holding on, even if just by a thread. "I always wondered… w-what it was like…"

Italy bit his lower lip, scooching a bit closer to Germany so he could show he was there for him, and to hear him a bit bitter.

"But, why are you laughing?"

At this, Germany suddenly grinned a bit bigger, laughing weakly a bit more before turning his head so he could look up at the ceiling.

"I want... I want to smile.. just like you did... I.. I want to smile when I die."

Italy's eyes widened at this, feeling a new set of tears roll down his cheeks as he remembered how Germany had said he was weak for not being able to smile in death like he could. He gently set his hand on the others chin, moving him a little so that they could look at each other again, this time Italy giving a big grin for him too.

"S-Si… let's smile together…" He started off saying, doing all he could to keep from sobbing. "You're just having a nap, Captain. One without guilt… o-or regret. One you so… so deserve." His hand moved from Germany's chin, going down to take hold of his restrained hand, holding onto it as tightly as he physically could. "I'll be here… I'll be here when you wake up… I swear." He gave another pause, wanting to look away from Germany's dying eyes, but he still looked on, giving another toothy grin to him, "We'll smile together again."

Germany softly smiled at the other, squeezing his hand just as hard as he could, recalling his own promise to Italy so long ago.

"Italy…"

After that, the both of them were quiet, left to just smiling at each other.

But it didn't take more than another ten minutes for the light in Germany's eyes to dull and his breathing to stop completely. Italy leaned close to make sure that he was for sure gone. Once he was sure, he pulled back away from him. He sighed shakily, wanting to drop his smile and start crying, but he just couldn't with Germany still looking at him with those soft eyes of his.

"Tch. He fucking flat-lined on me. Rude."

Italy looked over his shoulder to see Romano having just reached the bottom of the stairs to look at Germany. He blinked as Romano was covered by a lot more red than he left the room with, looking a lot like tomato juice. The other rolled his eyes before stomping up the stairs in a huff, seeming like he was done with him for the night.

Italy sniffed quietly, wiping his eyes a little before looking back to Germany, softly smiling again at seeing him with such a content smile on his face. He must have been happy to have gotten retribution for his sins in the past, and being able to die with his best friend at his side.

"See, Germany?" Italy said, reaching forward and gently wiping away the tears from Germany's cheeks. "You were the strongest all along."