Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. I can't even draw a straight line.

AN: This was an attempt at writing a more serious Hetalia while still maintaining Italy's childish voice.

Third Empire

"Why do you like Germany so much?!" Romano suddenly blurted out with disproportionate anger.

Italy's bite of pasta stopped halfway to his mouth. He could only stare at his brother. Why was Romano yelling? Breakfast wasn't for yelling. It was for getting ready for the day and enjoying all the teas and pastries and sweet jams and juices…yum Italy got hungry again just thinking about it all!

Romano snapped his fingers before sticking his face (his indignation included) between Italy and the food; his brother wouldn't pay attention to him otherwise. "Why. Do. You. Like. Germany. SO MUCH?!" he shouted, hoping he could keep Italy's attention this time.

"Well…" Italy began, then he thought about it for a while.

Then he thought about bunnies.

Then he started thinking about Germany again.

"Well, he's always really nice to me, even when I upset him. He makes me pasta even though he knows I can make it myself. He ties my shoes. He gives me crayons to draw with while he and Japan talk about tactic-y things…and he knows all of the pretty German girls to talk to. And he has such wonderful hair and eyes. They're so shiny!"

Romano stared at Italy as if his brother had just annexed Switzerland. "His...hair? We share the same blood! How can you like him better than me based solely on that!"

Italy didn't say anything. There wasn't anything he could think of that wouldn't be untrue or make Romano angry...so he kept his mouth shut.

After Romano yelled something about 'damn turn coat' and stormed out the door...Italy considered what he'd said about Germany.

Strange, he'd never really considered Germany's physical appearance before. Why did he just say he liked the blond nation's hair and blue eyes so much?

The answer came surprisingly quickly: because they reminded him of the blond hair and blue eyes that followed him throughout his childhood.

Italy never really thought about it before, but Germany reminded him of the Holy Roman Empire, his first best friend. They were physically similar, and Germany had that same serious personality that H.R.E did.

H.R.E had been the only one that wanted Italy as an ally because of friendship. Before that, the other European nations either kicked him around like France or were diplomatic because they needed Venice's boats. H.R.E had been there through most of his childhood, the only other nation that was his size. In short, H.R.E was the only other child to play with.

He always had such fun with H.R.E. They did so many things together! It might have even been fun to live together. Certainly more fun than living at big, mean Austria's house.

Why hadn't he lived with H.R.E?

It came to Italy from the airlocks in his memory. His friendship with H.R.E was when he was younger, when the image of Rome's fall was still fresh in his mind.

He'd watched his grandfather die because of sheer size and years of cancerous political corruption.

He was afraid. He hadn't wanted his only friend to suffer that.

Soon after, though, France broke the news to him.

The Holy Roman Empire had died anyway. He hadn't been truly strong since Charlemagne and it was bound to happen eventually. France also told Italy that one great leader could not build a nation.

Italy couldn't find the will to be angry with France. Mostly because he himself was unable to escape the nagging sense that he could have saved H.R.E if he chose to live in the other nation's house.

After that…Italy gained the sense that friends just hurt. Being friendly with everyone was fun and he could learn so much from them. But he never wanted that sense of guilt or obligation again. Life was too short; he'd rather spend it enjoying the Tuscan sun.

When he'd first met Germany, Italy had thought he was going to get shot or hit or even taken to a P.O.W camp and be sexually assaulted by pretty German milkmaids. Germany had acted all serious until he realized that Italy wasn't a real threat. Then they became friends!

Italy hadn't realized how much he liked Germany or why he went so far out of his way to be friends until Romano asked him about it.

Germany looked like the Holy Roman Empire; his hair and eyes were nearly identical, even though Germany was so much stronger! Come to think of it…he acted like H.R.E too. Germany's boss called it the Third Reich, the third empire. Didn't he think that the Holy Roman Empire had been the first or second? Also, they were both much too serious for their own good.

Italy suddenly realized something during this rare moment of deep thought: whether he knew it or not he had joined with Germany to make up for never helping H.R.E. He had acquired an automatic affection for the other nation because he was an older, stronger image of the friend he'd lost.

But if that was the case, didn't that mean that his original fears were still real?

Would Germany and his Third Reich one day grow so big that he collapsed under the pressure? Would cuts, scrapes, burns, cancers wound him like Grandpa Rome?

Would he die like Rome and H.R.E?

As he pulled his blue coat tighter around his shoulders, Italy shivered. A few moments ago, the warm, summer breeze hadn't felt so cold.

First, he did nothing to prevent Rome's size from growing; Rome died as a result. He remained free of the Holy Roman Empire to keep him from becoming too large. H.R.E died too. Now, in trying to help Germany to make up for his inactivity in helping H.R.E, Italy saw himself losing Germany the same way he was afraid he'd lose H.R.E.

Italy grabbed his head. Too confusing!

Underneath the jumble of thoughts was something he understood all too well: this rising sense of fear for his newest friend.

It was one thing to be a small country, one could move from house to house as they saw fit. Big nations were supported by the foundations they built, if the foundations crumbled then the nation went tumbling down with them. In the future, when the Third Reich fell after growing to its height, Italy knew he wouldn't be able to pick up the pieces. By then, would Germany even still be the same person Italy knew? If the Third Reich rose to the power Germany's boss envisioned for it then all Italy saw was pain.

Italy didn't want to be alone, didn't want Germany to go away.

Suddenly, Italy didn't want Germany to win the war so much.