So you all can thank my wonderful APUSH teacher for this wonderful idea from the second day of school. Yes the fateful story of how Italy met Pasta. Sorry for any spelling errors and stuff, I wrote it really quick then spell checked it a bit quicker. I'll change it later if I remember. And it's not something that's USxUK for once, oh goodness, what has the world come to. Don't worry, it's nothing big.
I don't own anything.
"Ne, ne, China~." Italy called, causing the eldest Asian nation to turn at the sound of his name. Before he knew it Italy was practically on top of him, it was a wonder he had knocked the poor Italian's lights out.
"Hello, aru." China greeted warmly, despite the fact that he was still startled by the fact that Italy was that close. He wasn't surprised Italy had done something like that, but to him…usually he bothered Japan…or Germany for that matter.
"Ne, ne, China," the Italian said tugging at his sleeve in a familiar fashion of all the younger Asian countries when they had demanded his attention. Only China didn't have to look down to see the one demanding the attention, he merely had to look up a bit. "Would you like to join me for some pasta~?" The question came out in a song almost.
"I though you usually went with Germany, aru." China said blinking.
"Ah~! Yes, that's true, but Germany's not feeling to well." The Italian said in a saddened tone. "He's very busy, and so is Japan," he perked up like nothing was wrong, "And then I though maybe China would want to go with me!"
"I suppose I could go aru." China said thinking over his schedule, there really wasn't much to do after the meeting…or was there?
"Ve~!" Italy said happily, grabbing China's wrist and pulling him along sharply, causing the Chinese man to stumble about and mutter Chinese curses behind him.
China watched as Italy ordered their pasta; both received a weird look form the waiter. She smiled either way and promised to return with their meals, leaving the two sitting awkwardly in the booth they were in. If it was anyone else, China was sure they could get some conversation going, or at least something other then the subjects Italy usually wandered one two.
The immortal nation had been around long enough to get something going, but Italy…was Italy. He was nothing like his grandfather…well maybe a little…but it clearly wasn't in the fighting department. Though towards the end, Rome had managed to land a little bit out there, and then fell completely, throwing Europe into the Dark Ages.
"Ne, ne, China, remember when we first eat pasta together." Italy suddenly chimed, causing China to jump slightly. Italy didn't noticed; in fact he hardly noticed the clueless look on the poor immortal's face.
China had eaten with a lot of people, especially his younger siblings. How would he even remember eating with Italy…much less pasta…and the first time? He glanced at Italy, who was smiling and waiting for his answer. No, he really didn't remember the first time, much less any time…or did he? There was that time…but was that Italy. Thinking back, maybe it was, maybe it had been the small Italian boy.
"I think so, aru…" China said drifting off into thought, or was it flashback.
"Aiyah!" China said placing the load he was caring down on the ground and coming to sit on a nearby rock. "Is it really worth all this, aru?" He questioned rubbing his back slightly. How long had he walked, all he knew was he was a good deal from home. Were soar feet and back worth all that gold and silver? Then again he liked gold and silver, he liked it a lot, so maybe he could put up with the whole thing.
He heard his stomach growl, when was the last time he had eaten. He sighed, glancing around form any near by wood to use for the fire; he did not want anyone stealing his goods. He somehow managed to find a good deal of it, and get a rather good kindle going, before realizing he needed water. However he could hear the sound of water close by, and figured he could quickly collect what he needed in time.
China quickly dipped his pot into the cool water, collecting the necessary amount, before making his way back to his goods quickly. To his luck, nothing was missing, or at less from the quick assessment he conducted. He placed the pot over the fire carefully; making sure it wouldn't fall before fishing out the necessary ingredients from his food.
Something shifted in the bushes, China, being already on high guard, dropped what he was doing softly. No thief was going to steal his beautiful silks, or spices the Europeans had been enjoying so well. He took a fighting pose; having many different styles up his sleeves it was almost natural. For the moment he was relying on his hearing more then anything, who knew how many people could possibly be surrounding him, and know he knew as well they were there.
The bushes ruffled a bit, like a small animal was making his way through, only a young boy, maybe ten years of age or so came toppling out of them. Strangely he was dressed as a maid, how he knew he was a boy, China didn't know, reddish locks with a single curl to the side. He mutter things in a foreign tongue, one China was somewhat familiar with, but not greatly. China noticed tears forming in the very corner of his eyes, which were something of amber color to them.
China blinked at him, waiting for the boy to notice what he had stumbled into and with luck, possibly warn him of coming attackers or something. Yet the boy did nothing more then rub his soar rump and complain in that language. Finally he noticed China, who was still holding a ready-to-kick-your-ass type of pose. This was however of course after the boy noticed the fire with the pot of water, the goods, and then the man who could clearly kill him.
It seemed to send the boy into some tearful confession about how he was two young and had relatives places, of course this was in a mix of languages and such, going from his native one to the one other nations spoke. China blinked at him, dropping his pose, not his guard. He had seen enough tears from young children, especially countries.
"I'm not going to hurt you, aru." China sighed out a 'not yet', under his breath.
"Oh, thank you, thank you!" The boy cried, rushing over to hug the immortal, who froze slightly.
"What are you doing out here, aru?" China asked, as he pried the boy off him.
"Ve~, exploring!" The boy said as his eyes lit up. "I asked my brother if he wanted to come, but he said he had other things to do. I still went though." The boy's stomach growled slightly, demanding food. "I didn't pack very well, and someone took my bag…"
China, having been in similar situations with the younger siblings, was use to sharing what he had, even if it was with some stranger, it was someone. However he still had to cook dinner, and if he could keep his goods long enough to get going, he was fine with sharing. He smiled, shoving his ponytail behind his back and heading to his goods.
"I was going to make some mung bean vermicelli and soup, aru." China said fishing out the dried noodles he had packed; smiling at the boy with was looking at him confused. "Their very good, aru." China pointed out, throwing them into the pot which was already boiling, much to his satisfaction. He returned to his load and fished out a few of the spices and flavorings, preparing them for the mixture.
"I've never had it." The boy pointed out, inching he way closer to the fire.
"I enjoy them very much, aru." China said smiling, before figuring maybe he could put the boy to work. "Stir them for me, aru. They should turned white when their cooked, aru." The boy nodded, happily stirring away, singing some tone as he did so. China threw in some of the spices, telling the boy what they were when he asked.
"Are they almost done?" The boy asked looking in the pot, as China swatted the steam away, before running off to fetch some bowls and chopsticks for the two of them.
China filled the two bowls before handing one to the boy, as well as a pair of chopsticks which the boy fumbled with. "Haven't you used chopsticks before, aru?" China asked stupidly before remembering Confucius had only had a major influence on the Asian nations under him. Europeans where rather foreign to the idea. The boy shook his head, and China did his best to instruct him the proper way to use them. "What do you think aru?"
China watched as the boy took one bite and looked like he was going to cry, but with a dreamy smile on his face. "It's delicious. Ne, ne, can you show him how to make these…uh?"
"China." China informed with a small bow.
"Can you show me how to make these, China-nii-san?" The boy asked, reaching for more food happily. China smiled, not having been called 'nii-san' for a while, it was rather nice to hear it after his name. Sadly it made him think of other things as well. "Ne, ne, China-nii-san!"
"Ah, sure, I can teach you…aru…?" China said.
"Italy." The boy informed with a huge smile on his face. China laughed, a whole hearted laugh, enjoying his meal with the small boy…no with Italy.
"Here is your meal." The waiter said, noticing China from he flashback of centuries ago. China found himself blinking at a chatting Italy, who was talking about something, something China didn't remember hearing. He peered down at his dish to find it was similar to the first one he had start with the Italian all those years back. The one meal that seemed to get him onto pasta and noodles.
China looked up at Italy who was whole-heartedly reaching for the chopsticks like he was going to win some contest for getting them before China. Italy hadn't let him order, much less look at the menu, he had simply just ordered. Italy ripped the two pieces of bamboo appear, holding one in each hand like Japan usually did before collecting them in one.
"I've been learning from Japan about how to use chopsticks." Italy said triumphantly as he worked the chopsticks with great ease. "It was hard, but Japan was very patient with me. Like you were, China-nii-san."
China laughed, like he had before when they enjoyed their first bowl together. He reached for his chopsticks, joining in on the good eats Italy had ordered for him.
So yeah, Marco Polo brought back a bunch of Ideas from the East when he went to China, or simply traveled the Silk Roads. So why not have Italy and China crosspaths with the whole ordeal. And no, noodles orginated in the East, the Italians merely adopted it...or that's what my teacher said. It was kinda funny cause he was talking about Marco Polo and was like 'Where would poor Italy be without pasta?' The four Hetalia freaks, me included, proceeded to swallow our laughter. So yeah, a little bit of shipping I think, but I don't know, you decide what you want.
Please RxR