The minute Ludwig dropped Feliciano off at his house; Feliciano began tearing the place apart. Now that he was armed with such earth-shattering information, he was determined to find some type of trace of his childhood friend- no, of Ludwig. He couldn't accept that in all the months he spent with him no one so much as took a picture. Surely he had some token of their time spent together. If he managed to forget his first kiss, Feliciano was sure he could have forgotten about taking a photograph or something.

A little voice in the back of his head nagged at him, telling Feliciano that Ludwig wasn't in fact the boy from his memories. Part of him still toyed with the idea that both of them just had disturbingly similar experiences. Maybe Ludwig was talking about a different Italian. Maybe he kissed a different boy and, for whatever reason, was given a different broom. Maybe the boy he spoke about also happened to have a caregiver that insisted on putting him in dresses even though it confused everyone else, claiming they were robes. Maybe there just happened to be an onslaught of blonde German kids running around his village that year, maybe-

Feliciano forced the erratic thoughts to stop tumbling over each other in his mind. There was no way that all of that was a coincidence. The similarities were simply too great. Still, what were the odds? Out of all the villages in all of the countries in the entire world, Ludwig had managed to find the one that he was in. Not only that, but they had both moved to America and attended the same high school. They had found each other again through coincidence alone. This thought only promoted another stream of overthinking- What if those boys hadn't decided to beat him up that day? What if Ludwig hadn't forgotten his jacket, or had gone through the front entrance instead of the one in the back? Their relationship was founded on a chain-reaction of events, half of which were rather unfortunate but produced something great.

As if that wasn't enough, Feliciano had fallen in love with him all over again, and Ludwig reciprocated. This was the kind of thing you read about in the newspaper or a cheesy romance novel. Unreal. Feliciano was giving himself a headache. If he actually sat down and attempted to calculate the probability of all of those things happening, his brain may have just started smoking and eventually malfunctioned.

Just ten minutes after he had arrived back at home, Feliciano was on his knees digging through his closet. People always kept weird things from their past in their closets, right? But all he found was clothing, old school supplies and a few of his paintings. After realizing that none of the canvases held anything of interest, he moved on to the pile of shoeboxes that sat against the back wall.

Shoes, shoes, shoes…okay, Feliciano knew that he probably should have expected the shoeboxes to only contain shoes. Still, he felt disappointment rise in his chest each time he turned up empty. He was desperate for some kind of information, all while trying to push the possibility of hitting a dead end out of his mind. Sure, he had only started looking, but he wasn't entirely sure where else he could look. He kept the vast majority of his personal belongings in his room, so he really wasn't expecting to unearth a pile of photographs in say, the kitchen.

After a couple of minutes, Feliciano found himself staring at the last of the unopened shoeboxes. His hands were tentatively gripping the sides of the lid, trying to suppress the hope that was coursing through his veins. There are still other places to look. He told himself, biting down on his bottom lip. Feliciano decided to treat the situation like a Band-Aid. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and ripped the lid off the box, letting out a battle cry for good measure as he did so.

After indulging in one final moment of hesitation, his eyes shot open. What he was staring at was, at last, not shoes. That alone caused his stomach to do a backflip. Even though he was sure it wasn't shoes, he wasn't exactly sure what he was looking at. With a shaking hand, Feliciano pulled what seemed to be a rolled up piece of yellowing paper out of the box. For a moment he was sure it was a receipt, presumably for shoes. But it was too big to be a receipt. Maybe it was another old worksheet. He was far more willing to speculate what it could be than to actually see for himself; terrified of the crushing disappointment that was sure to come.

Without thinking for another second, Feliciano unrolled the paper in one swift movement. His eyes narrowed as he realized what he was looking at. It was an old drawing, done in crayons. It was crudely done, so he recognized that this was something he must have created when he was much younger.

Maybe young enough that he was still living in Italy.

Feliciano froze. His eyes were still locked on the drawing, but they weren't processing what was in front of him. For what felt like an eternity, he stopped breathing, blinking, thinking, living…then he snapped back into reality. He was able to decipher the picture. It was another tree, one he immediately recognized as the one was spent so much time beneath in his village. Beside the tree were two figures, small enough to be children.

Bingo. Feliciano ran his hand over the paper, smiling slightly. So it wasn't a photograph, but at least it was something. One of the children has blonde hair and blue eyes, while the other had auburn hair and brown eyes. There was no denying it. This was he and the boy. It was Feliciano and Ludwig.

Feliciano sighed heavily, allowing himself to sink against the wall. He wondered how long the drawing had been there, how long ago he had put it in the shoebox. He wondered why he had chosen to put it in a shoebox. Was he trying to shove the memory away from him, thinking that if it were out of sight it would also be out of mind? If that was true, he could have thrown it away. But that was the important thing. He hadn't thrown it away. Something deep inside of himself had willed him to keep it, even if he did hide it from himself.

While finding this little piece of the past was exhilarating, Feliciano yearned for something more. He wanted a photograph in the worst way, so he could memorize the details of Ludwig's young face and see the resemblance and be smacked in the face with the truth. That would erase any fraction of a doubt he still had. He was sure of it. But how could he find a picture? He wasn't even sure if any existed.

Feliciano was smacked in the face with a sudden thought. Maybe Grandpa or Lovino has one.

It was a stretch, he knew that much. Still, it wasn't completely impossible. Feliciano tried to remember if he had told either of them about his friend. He wasn't even sure if they knew. If he had to explain, he would have a lot of explaining to do about other things. Lovino was already suspicious. He hadn't spoken to Roma in weeks, months even.

Wait a minute. Ludwig. Feliciano thought. He wondered how on earth this didn't cross his mind before- Ludwig might very well have a picture. Feliciano swung his fist into the air, cheering internally that the victory that may not end up being a victory at all. Before he knew what he was doing, his phone was pressed against his ear.

Ludwig answered on the second ring. "Hello?"

"Hey! Ludwig! It's me!" Feliciano punctuated each word with undying excitement. "I have something to ask you!"

Ludwig paused. "Oh. Alright."

"So we met when we were kids. That's hard to believe, isn't it? I think so! Anyways, I really want to find a picture of us. I'm tearing my house apart right now trying to find one and I can't so I thought I would ask Lovino or Grandpa but I'm not sure if I even told them about us when we were kids so now I'm asking you!" Feliciano said the last sentence is one breath, his words hurried and frantic. He knew he wasn't making a ton of sense, but he was far too wound up to care.

"Slow down." Ludwig said. "You want a photograph?"

"Yes!"

"I'm not sure if there are any, unfortunately. I've been looking for one the past couple of days. I started remembering a bit about my friend-" He paused, cleared his throat, and corrected himself. "About… you. Anyway, I searched for evidence and came up with nothing. I even asked Gilbert."

Feliciano's heart sunk to his feet. "Oh."

"I'm sorry, Feliciano. Why don't you ask Lovino or your grandfather?"

He supposed it was high time he told someone about all of this anyway. Feliciano thought for a moment, trying to decide if he could manage to tell his brother or grandpa about Ludwig without spilling the nature of their relationship. It wasn't that he didn't want to tell them, it's that he didn't want to tell them over the phone. It seemed so impersonal.

He took a deep breath. "Okay! I'll ask them."

"Why do you want a picture?" asked Ludwig. "I think we've already established the truth."

Feliciano blinked a few times as the question sunk in. Really, it shouldn't be as important as it was to him. He pondered this for a moment and finally came up with an adequate explanation. "It's just so unreal, Ludwig."

"I know. It's about as unlikely as you can get, but it isn't impossible, correct?"

Feliciano nodded even though Ludwig wasn't able to see him. "Right." He took a deep breath, shaking off his hysteria. "I guess I'll call Lovino now!"

"Good luck, Feli."

Seconds after they said their goodbyes, Feliciano was already dialing his brother's number. He wondered if he was in class, but in the heat of the moment he didn't even bother thinking about it. He was relieved when he picked up.

"Pronto."

Feliciano spoke in frantic, breathless sentences. "Lovino! Hi, it's me. Are you busy? I need to ask you something."

He paused for a second. "Oh. Hi, Feliciano. I've got a few minutes before class, what's up?"

Feliciano didn't stop to think. "This is going to sound strange but do you remember me having a friend when I was, like, five?" He blurted.

"Feli. That was, what was it, twelve years ago, almost?" Lovino seemed just a tad bit annoyed, but that wasn't any different than usual. He had been in a perpetual state of grumpiness since he was a child. "Do you really think I remember? What brought this on?"

Feliciano felt his heartbeat pick up. This was it. "You're going to think I'm crazy."

"I've always thought you were crazy. What's up?"

Feliciano chuckled lightly, thankful for something to break the tension. "I met someone." He made sure to choose his words carefully. "He's from Germany and he's really nice to me and he doesn't think I talk too much!"

The line went silent for a moment. "Ok…" said Lovino hesitantly. "That's great, but what does this have to do with the friend you had when you were five?"

"That's the thing, Lovino! I think he's the same person!" The declaration sounded ridiculous, but Feliciano didn't care. "We have the same memories about it and everything!"

"Hold on, Feliciano. You're not making any sense. So you're telling me you had a friend, in Italy, twelve years ago. This person was from Germany and just happened to be in our village, and now you think you found him again, in America?"

"Yes! It sounds crazy but it's not!"

"No, it's pretty crazy."

Feliciano frowned. He wasn't going about this the right way. He wasn't giving him enough background information about it. Lovino was right, he did sound crazy. He sounded absolutely mad. "I wanted to ask if you had any pictures." He spoke slower now. "I know I sound crazy and I'm not explaining myself but I really need a picture!"

"I have no idea what you're even talking about right now, how would I have a picture?" Lovino sounded more puzzled than irritated, though his tone was an odd mix of both.

Feliciano sighed and quickly realized how ridiculous he was acting. "You're right, it was stupid." He said. "Sorry."

"It would probably be less stupid if you explained this more." Lovino said. "Why don't you tell me about this person you know now. How did you meet?"

Feliciano bit down on his lip, hard. This was one of the questions that he didn't want. It took everything he had not to open the floodgates and tell him everything. "I met Ludwig at school." He said carefully after it dawned on him that he hadn't even mentioned his name yet.

"Ludwig. Okay. What's he like?"

A bubble of affection rose in Feliciano's chest. What was he like? He was amazing; one of a kind, shy, sweet, serious, strong, smart, gentle, understanding…it was a loaded question. Ludwig was someone he couldn't describe using words alone.

"He's nice." He said. He was amazed by how much he was able to simplify it. "He's pretty serious, but he's actually really…nice." The moment he said it, Feliciano wanted to slap himself. He sounded like a robot. He was trying so hard to not use words that could be taken as romantic, leaving him with the vocabulary of a first-grader.

Lovino paused. "He's nice. I think I get it." He said. "At least you're talking about your friends. When did you meet him?"

That, he could answer. "A couple of months ago, I think. Maybe a little longer? Or shorter? Wow, I don't know!" His relationship with Ludwig felt as if it had lasted both a lifetime and a single blink of the eye. Feliciano could no longer pinpoint the time his life was flipped upside down.

"Why didn't you say anything?" asked Lovino, sounding skeptical.

"I forgot!" said Feliciano a little too quickly, his voice sounding higher than usual. That was a huge lie. Forgetting about Ludwig was about as possible as forgetting to breathe.

There was another pause. "You forgot." Even though Feliciano could not see him, he imagined Lovino had rolled his eyes. "Okay."

Feliciano realized they had gotten off track. Desperate to veer off this interrogation, he got back to the point. "The point is we were talking and we're both sure we knew each other in Italy when we were children!"

Lovino sighed. "We've established this. You still haven't told me why you think that."

So he couldn't tell him about the kiss. That would only trigger a chain of questions he didn't want to answer yet. Feliciano wasn't really sure what he could tell him. This whole conversation was like walking on eggshells. "Well," he said finally, "I remember the boy having blonde hair and blue eyes, and so does Ludwig."

Lovino cut him off. "A lot of people have blonde hair and blue eyes."

Feliciano felt the smallest twinge of annoyance. Lovino was always dismissing him, always brushing off his comments as silliness. Even though he was barely two years older than him, Lovino acted as if he were his parent. "Let me finish!" He cried. "He remembered calling his childhood friend Italy! I remember being called Italy! He was in Italy was the same amount of time I remember having a friend! His friend gave him a broom when he left and I remember giving my friend a broom! I'm not making this up, Lovino!"

There was no response for a good ten seconds. "Why would you give him a broom?"

Feliciano sighed. He could not even bring himself to be angry. The way his brother trivialized this monumental occurrence- something that meant the world to Feliciano- only made him sad. He might as well have been talking to a brick wall. "That's what you took from all of that?" He said quietly.

"No, I understand your suspicions now." He sounded slightly less perplexed. "It's still a little bit far-fetched, but it's one hell of a coincidence."

"Thank you!" cried Feliciano. He felt as if a boulder had been lifted from his chest. Finally, he was starting to believe him! But that wasn't the biggest issue. In a flash, Feliciano remembered his original goal. "Do you think Grandpa Roma would remember? Do you think he might have a picture?"

"I don't know, Feliciano. If he did, he would probably be able to remember this a lot better than I could." Lovino said. "This is terrible timing, but I need to go to class."

"Oh. Okay, thank you!" said Feliciano. "See you!"

"Bye."

Feliciano took a deep breath. That had gone okay, he supposed. Maybe it didn't matter if he had a picture of not. He had Ludwig. He had always had Ludwig. That was all that mattered.

.

Lovino took a deep breath. His worry for Feliciano was only growing by the day, but at least he knew that someone was looking out for him. Albeit it was someone he didn't know, albeit it was some German potato bastard, but at least it was someone. Being eight hours away, he could not really afford to be picky. He sighed, set down the phone and looked at Antonio, who was sleeping on the bed on the other side of the room. Lazy bastard. For Christ's sakes, it was the middle of the afternoon.

He shook his head and adverted his eyes, instantly infuriated with the little jump in his chest seeing a sleeping Antonio had evoked. Desperate for a distraction, he managed to get his thoughts back on track. The last thing he expected that day was to be told this crazy story. That's what it was- a crazy story, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to doubt it. Those coincidences, if they had actually happened, were uncanny. Lovino was not arrogant enough to deny that.

There was someone Lovino knew as a child too, but it hadn't been another child. This person was a bit older than him, perhaps a young teenager, and had looked after Lovino when Roma had to work. His memories were extremely faint, but there was one thing he remembered. It wasn't his appearance or even his name. This person had a Spanish accent. That, he remembered clearly.

Lovino stared at Antonio, the crazy Spaniard who was too old for college that he was forced to share a room with. Feliciano's story was crazy, but it had made him think…

No. No way. Ridiculous, Lovino thought, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all. He was embarrassed to even have entertained the idea for a millisecond. It was absolutely ludicrous. It was the stupidest thing he had ever thought in his life.

Lovino stood up, took his books from his cluttered desk and went to class. He hoped he would be able to pay attention this time. The last few times, a certain set of sparkling green eyes and a particular boisterous laugh had invaded his thoughts.

To be continued...

Author's note: It is likely that this story will undergo a rating change next week- going from 'T' to 'M.' If you want to see it in the regular feed, you have to change your settings to allow 'M' rated stories to show up. Thank you!