Yet another Prussia/Italy centric fic. My next story will be another couple (US/UK or Gertalia or...something), I promise! It's just this pairing has been invading my mind a lot lately...

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Hetalia characters- they belong, in all their glory, to Hidekaz Himaruya.

Five-Year-Old

Story Teller

Prussia was awoken by a strange sound that was coming from the neighboring room.

It defiantly wasn't the sound of Austria and Hungary getting it on in the other room. Though it would be pretty damn amusing to hear. He could almost imagine Roderich's sissy moans. HA- it would be blackmail for life.

Hm….no. Coming to think of it, it sounded more like crying. If he remembered correctly, the room on his left belonged to Italy. Prussia was staying as a guest so he didn't know the layout of the house very well.

It was well past midnight….what was the boy doing up at this hour? Crying, no less? Gilbert bounded out of bed and slowly pushed open the door to Italy's room. And, just as he expected, there was Italy sitting on the bed, crying his eyes out.

When the lad spotted him, his eyes seemed to grow as wide as dinner plates.

"Eeeek, Prussia!" he shrieked.

"I'm sorry I woke you up! Go back to bed now!"

He childishly pulled a blanket up over his head.

"Naw, don't worry about it. I wasn't tired anyway."

Prussia strode over and sat down on the boy's bed.

"Were you crying?"

He turned away.

"N-No. I got something in my eye, that's all."

Prussia leaned in closer, his scarlet eyes meeting teary hazel ones.

"Can I see?"

Italy let out a large shaky breath and his lip quivered.

"O-okay. I was crying." he admitted.

"What for?"

This sent him into a crying fit again and he fell forward, smushing his face into the mattress.

He said something that sounded like "Hory Moman Empear".

It suddenly occurred to him. Holy Roman Empire. The little blonde boy who went off to war. The ordeal probably tore Italy to pieces. The two were very close friends.

"What about Holy Roman Empire?"

Italy mumbled something that was impossible to make out.

"I can't hear you. Come on, let's go to the bathroom and wash your face. Then you can tell me what happened.

The small child nodded and held Prussia's hand as he led him to the bathroom.

The little nation was so small that he could not reach the knobs of the sink without a stool. He carried one over from the other side of the bathroom, quickly washed his face, then dabbed it dry with a towel.

They walked back to the room and sat down again on Italy's bed.

Prussia rested his chin in his hand.

"So tell me this story. What's it about?"

He used his other hand to brush Italy's reddish brown bangs out of his face.

"W-well….it's about two bestest friends- named Holy Roman Empire and Italy. And one of the friends disappears for a very long time and leaves the other very sad."

A single tear drop slid silently down the boy's cheek, which Prussia wiped away with the sleeve of his white shirt.

"Go ahead."

One hour, and a very soaked sleeve, later Italy finished telling the story of himself and Holy Roman Empire. A story which would have required a box and a half of Kleenex. The child's squeaky voice and passion made the tale even more sugary sweet, endearing and heart breaking.

Though Prussia had to admit that he almost laughed when Italy told him he had given Holy Roman Empire his panties and that they had kissed. The two boys had kissed. And Italy hadn't found that weird at all. Aaah….the innocence of children…

"You're done?"

"Mm-hmm." he said, rubbing at his eyes.

Prussia rose.

"So I'm going back to bed now, kay'?"

He felt a tugging at his sleeve, someone pulling him back.

"W-wait! No, Prussia! C-can you sleep here with me tonight? Please?"

It was impossible to say no to that face.

Gilbert smiled down at him and complied.

"Sure."

When Hungary awoke in the morning she went to go tell Italy to come help her and Austria prepare breakfast.

She was absolutely shocked, and horrified, to find that Prussia had somehow snuck into the boy's bed last night. The two were still fast asleep, in a spooning position.

Needless to say, Prussia received the beating of a lifetime that day.