A/N: Before I start, a big shout out to Seele Esser Deutsch for always leaving great reviews on all my stories! Please go and check her out guys (she writes some amazing stories!)
"Romano!" Spain growled in his usual fashion as the small boy entered the room. Romano sat down at the long table, opposite the man, the insufficient amount of candles in the room casting his small frown in shadows.
"Ugh, what did I do this time, eh?" Much to the boy's surprise, Spain only laughed at the remark.
"The moment I call you in to talk to you, you automatically assume I'm going to tell you off!" The smile faded from the man's face and a serious glint flashed in his eyes. "No, the reason I've brought you here is because...I'm going off to war." Romano's little heart fluttered. He sat dumbfounded for a moment, before a rush of anger and grief washed over him.
"Y-you're l-leaving me?" the boy stammered. Just as Spain opened his mouth to explain, the boy cried out. "How could you do this! What kind of jerk bastard leaves a little kid by themselves! You might die and then no one will look after me! No! You can't go, Spain! I won't let you!"
"Easy, Romano." the man soothed, a sympathetic smile on his face. "You didn't let me finish." The boy drew his gaze to the table and remained silent. "Britain's on my ass again and war is the only way to settle it. I'm sorry Romano. I don't want to have to do this either but don't worry because I have everything planned out for you. While I'm away, you'll go and stay with your brother at the Holy Roman Empire's house. Romano lifted his head.
"Veneciano?" he uttered softly. "I haven't seen him five years." Spain smiled.
"Even better then-you two have lots of time to catch up with each other!" The boy groaned and flopped his head back on the table in despair.
"Ugh. I hate you, Spain."
"Romano, that is not the right attitude. You should be excited! And besides, I'll only be gone a little while and then everything will be back to normal, OK?" Romano remained unchanged.
"Bastard." was the muffled reply.
The carriage clattered down the dusty dirt track. Romano jerked back and forth on the cushioned seat, looking out of the window. Upon noticing the carriage's speed dropping, the boy sat forward and poked his head out of the window. A cobbled courtyard soaked in warm sunlight stood before a tall, white Italian villa. The boy felt overwhelmed by the sight. He was staying here? The carriage pulled to a halt and the the coach door was opened. Romano stepped out, blinded for a moment by the intense sunlight. Upon looking ahead, he found a boy, perhaps a few years older than he, standing in front of the front door, his arms tucked behind his back. He wore a dark bicorn hat on his head, a cloak of the same colour draped over his shoulders. A white cravat sat at his neck. But the thing that struck Romano most was the intense shade of blue in the boy's eyes. He was compelled to look at him. The boy forced a weak smile, somewhat confused by the other's fixed stare, and approached him, outstretching a hand towards him.
"I am the Holy Roman Empire." he said coldly. "You are Italy's brother, si?" Romano nodded blankly, shaking the other boy's hand.
"S-si." The boy nodded and spun on his heel, opening the front door. Romano followed behind him, struck by the grand architecture all around. Tall men in armour passes back and forth, carrying various belongings and trunks. The boy looked on in confusion.
"Unfortunately," Holy Rome began, observing Romano's bewilderment, "You've come at a bad time. I'm leaving for war very soon and the soldiers are clearing up all my things. I apologize for any disruptions this may cause you, during your stay." Romano shook his head in response, he wasn't sure what else to say. The boy led him through a series of ornate marble archways, eventually reaching a beautiful, sun drenched garden. Two maids sat in the grass ahead; from what Romano could tell, one was in her teens, the other, no older four or five. The younger raised their head and stared for a moment before getting to their feet and suddenly sprinting across the plain to meet the two boys. Romano gasped and took a step backwards. This was no maid-this was his brother!
"V-veneciano?!" he faltered. The small boy tottered over in a full maid's dress, a small handkerchief wrapped daintily round his head. The boy looked Romano up and down for a moment.
"B-big brother?" he mumbled before embracing him tightly. Romano looked on, confused and still in shock.
"Veneciano, w-what are you wearing?" The smaller boy seemed to ignore this comment and drew back, smiling.
"I've missed you, big brother!" he squeaked with joy. "I haven't seen you since forever!" Holy Rome looked on, all the while, in silence.
"Well then," he began. "If you can settle yourself, I must be going. I have..." he hesitated glancing to Italy. "Preparations to make. I hope you understand and forgive my tardiness." Romano watched the boy walk away, back through the series of archways, before disappearing round the corner. Romano wondered why the boy had looked at Italy like that but quickly dismissed the thought as the small boy tugged at his shirt.
"Big brother! Big brother! Come and meet Ms. Hungary!" Romano nodded and followed the other into the garden, over to where the older maid sat. She smiled politely and stood up as they approached, curtsying.
"You must be Romano, Italy's told me all about you. My name's Hungary. It's a pleasure to have your company. How long will you be with us for?" Italy turned his head to Romano. Too long, the boy thought.
"I-I'm not sure." he said. "I have to stay here until Spain returns from war." The girl nodded.
"I see. Well, please, make yourself at home. As you can see, you haven't come at a great time-"
"I know." Romano cut in. "Your boss man in the funny hat told me. He's leaving for war." At this, Italy let out a sharp gasp, his amber eyes widening.
"Holy Rome's l-leaving?" Before Hungary or Romano could stop him, the boy scampered back through the house.
"Italy!" Romano called. "Where are you going?!"
"Ah." Hungary moved over to the boy. "Don't worry. I know where she's gone. She's gone to say goodbye to Holy Rome." Romano whipped round.
"S-she?"
Romano snuck round the side of the large villa. The sun soaked courtyard soon came into view and sure enough, Holy Rome and Italy stood in the centre, talking. Italy held a small push broom in his hands. Romano was too far away to overhear anything, so he watched intently instead. Suddenly, the boy turned away, his cloak flying over his shoulder behind him, and he began to walk away, following a long line of soldiers along the winding dirt road. Italy cried out, calling his name and begging for him to come back. It was as if his brother had feelings for the other boy. Holy Rome turned back as Italy held out his push broom. Romano looked on in confusion. The other boy took the push broom, some of the soldiers also looking on by this point. Then, the unthinkable happened. Romano's face dropped as both boys suddenly leaned in and kissed each other! The boy was speechless and stood, frozen. The two children lingered on, their clothes rippling in the wind. Then, Holy Rome drew back and left, calling words of departure and good will. Italy responded, but Romano could not hear. All his senses were lost. He couldn't believe what he just saw. His brother just kissed another boy! He raised his head to find Italy turning away miserably, making to come back inside the house. Romano leapt from his hiding spot and ran up behind the boy.
"What the hell is wrong with you, eh!" he cried, grabbing his brother harshly by the soldiers.
"Romano!" he gasped, tears in his eyes.
"Why did you kiss that bastard, you jerk! That was another boy! Boy's don't kiss boys!"
"B-but I love him, fratello." he mumbled.
"L-love?" The words died on the boy's lips. His confusion suddenly turned to anger. He shook Italy by the shoulders. "What the hell do you mean! You can't love him! He's another boy!"
"Romano!" the squealed. "Why are you doing this!"
"Because you kissed that damn bastard! That's why!"
"But kissing's what you do if you love someone!" tears rolled down his little cheeks.
"BUT YOU CAN'T LOVE HIM!" he screamed. By now, Hungary had heard the commotion and came running through the front door. She quickly pulled the boy away from Romano's grip.
"What's going on!"
"I don't know!" Italy sobbed, clutching at Hungary's dress. The girl looked to Romano, her emerald eyes blazing.
"He kissed that other boy! On the lips!" Hungary stood up.
"She has every right to, Romano. You cannot deny her that right."
"My little brother is not a girl!" Hungary turned to Italy, who blinked absently, his cheeks flushed. "What the hell have you damn bastards been teaching him! L-look at him! He's wearing a goddamn dress!"
"But I like wearing this, Romano. H-holy Rome said I look pretty in it."
"It's that damn bastard's fault! He's messed you up! Oh Italy! What have they done to you!" Romano cried, dropping to his knees.
It took Romano at least a week to get over the shock, but he never fully recovered.
And so, when Romano first came face to face with Germany, he was driven to believe it was the Holy Roman Empire. Everything about him echoed that of the boy who, in Romano's eyes, ruined his brother. And resentment was all he could ever muster to show towards him from that day forth.
The end
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