"The heart may forget, but the body will always remember"

-Yuuko Ichihara, XXXHolic

Germany/HRE X Italy

"Ehh….?" Moaned a confused little Italy. "Since when does Germany sleep in till nine? I'm usually the one who is late getting up!"

"Uhnn…" said the larger, more serious country as he rolled over in his bed.

Italy sighed, "Well, since this is such a rare occasion, I guess I'll just have to make the best of it!" He announced happily. "I'll make breakfast then!"

Pasta wasn't the only thing Italy knew how to make, sure; it was the most delicious thing on his menu, but it wasn't the limit. "I wonder what this is…" He asked himself as he held an odd looking jar of frozen wurst up to his face. "I really need to learn how to speak Germany's language. These words have too many symbols over them; I can't keep up with what is what!"

The fresh smell of breakfast polenta filled Germany's kitchen. Italy wasn't sure how to cook wurst. He had watched Germany prepare it several times, yet, he still had no idea how to pull it off. He decided to make traditional Italian sausages instead, with eggs and mushrooms, the polenta would mix well.

The worried Italy looked up the stairs, hoping that Germany would be walking down by now. But the stairway was empty and so was Italy's spirit. "I wonder why he is taking so long." He asked out loud. While he loaded the mix of Italian and German food onto plates, he remembered what it was like for him when he lived with his respected, Sir Austria. It always took so long for his 'neighbor' the Holy Roman Empire to wake up in the morning.

"Ve~ Germany is having a Holy Roman day!" He laughed before setting the food on the table and heading upstairs to wake the other man up.

"Ne~! Germany, it is morning already! You should get up; I made food!" He said softly.

"Huh….? Ita-chan? What are you doing in my room?" The sleepy man said from under the covers.

"I-Ita-chan…?" Italy asked. "In your case Germany, too much sleep may be a bad thing! Since when do you call me by my nickname?"

Italy gently uncovered the still tired Germany, hoping it would help him wake up faster.

"Hey, hey! Guess what? I made polenta! I don't think you have ever tried my breakfast before!"

Italy watched as his friend stretched his arms out, reaching for the sky with a big yawn. He rubbed his eyes with his hand, letting the sleepy fall from his face.

"What? Italy-chan? Why would you make breakfast for us? Isn't that Hungary's job?" He said, letting his eyes fall on the much-taller-than-he-imagined Italy. "EH?! I-Italy-chan? W-when did you get so tall?"

"Huh?" Italy said with a pause. "What do you mean taller, Germany? I don't think I've grown that tall overnight…"

The confused man looked Italy up and down, refusing to believe his own eyes. But before he could say anymore, he noticed himself.

"Since when did I-? I mean, why am I so tall-? No ,wait, what's going on? Mr. Austria! Where is he?" Cried the older country, scrambling for words.

"I think Mr. Austria is in Mr. Austria's house, Germany. Why do you need to see him so suddenly? Did you think of something important in you sleep?" Said Italy in a soft, worried tone. "I think you just had a bad dream. Let's go eat breakfast; maybe it will make you feel better!"

"Germany?" He asked, standing up to the shorter country, "Why do you keep calling me that? I am the Holy Roman Empire!"

"H-Holy Roman?" Italy asked with a shivering tone. "W-what do you mean? Y-you're not, I mean, you are Germany!" Without giving the other country another chance to argue, Italy went on, "Germany is Germany! And….and…Holy Roman is…"

Small tears began to form in his eyes. He didn't have the courage to say it; he never would. Italy would never be able to admit that he was gone.

"What do you mean? I'm not Ger-" The other man began to argue again.

But before he could finish, a killing pain formed in his head and caused him to fall back onto the bed. He could hear the fading voice of Italy in the back of his head calling for him. Asking what was wrong. Suddenly, images that were both familiar and unfamiliar began to flash through his head. Mr. Austria, Sister Hungary, Italy-chan, and himself; The Holy Roman Empire, they were all there, in his old house. Everyone was there; every person, every memory.

"I-Italy, I said would come back." He tried to say trough the pain. "I promised you I would return."

"H-Holy Roman…?" Italy asked from beside him, letting his shoulder lean against his. "You really remember?"

With his hand held up to his face, trying to cover the pain, the Holy Roman Empire weakly nodded, letting several tears fall from his eyes.

"I said I would come bac-" He started, before new pictures began to fill his thoughts too, overloading images of others he though he hadn't seen before; a smaller, wise Asian man; Japan, an over confident, yet, kind older country; Prussia, and an annoying, immature, lovable little country; Italy.

"Huh…?" Said Germany, letting his hand fall from his face. "W-who am I again?"

The lost country looked over to Italy, who was staring at him; wide-eyed in shock. "Germany…?"

"T-that's right." He said, straightening himself out. "Germany." He repeated. "I'm Germany.

Italy let go of him almost immediately, slowly backing away from the other country, letting a barrier fall in between them.

"Huh, Italy, what were we talking about again? Something about Austria-" He said before his eyes reached his bed clock. "Shit! How did it get this late? I need to be at work now!" He cried, reaching for his boots and clothes. "Italy, why didn't you wake me-" He said, pausing when their eyes met.

"Italy…?" He asked him with a soft voice. "Why are you crying?"

"Ah!" Cried the smaller country, "I-I'm sorry, it's just that….I thought that you were, well….nothing; it's nothing."

A concerned look came over Germany's face. "Italy, what happened…?" His grip on the clothes loosened, letting them fall to the bedroom floor. He leaned over Italy, putting a hand on his shoulder. "It's not 'nothing'. Any man could clearly see that you are upset."

"No," He said quickly, brushing Germany's hand away from his face. "It really is nothing."

The usually cheerful country forced a weak smile on his face and stood up from the bed. Letting his hands fall from his wet, tear-stained cheeks, he walked to the door of the room and opened it, turning to face Germany once last time. "I'm sorry to have troubled you so much." He said softly.

The door shut silently behind him, leaving Germany without any words to say in return. He tried to push the look on Italy's face out of his head. He was not used to Italy crying, unless it was over pasta or something stupid. This was a rare moment that he was unsure how to deal with.

Little Italy, having felt foolish for actually believing Germany would be able to remember his old self, began to pick up the now cold plates of breakfast from off the table. No matter how he looked at it, he didn't think he would ever be able to except Germany for who he was. "Germany is Germany." He mumbled to himself over and over again. "Germany is Germany. Germany is Germa- Ah!" He yelped as he lost the grip on one of the plates, allowing it to crash onto the floor, shattering into millions of shining pieces that covered the entire floor. "N-no." He cried. "This is Germany's plate. How could I have been so careless?"

He tried to collect the biggest pieces, wishing they would just magically fit back together. He quickly pilled the remaining slices of plaster into his apron and stood up, only to come face to face with Germany.

"Ah! Germany, I-I'm so sorry, I-" He tried to explain, tripping over the words, only to be surprised by the strong look in Germany's eyes, causing him to refrain from saying anymore.

"Germany…" Italy said, turning a bright shade of red, feeling ashamed. "I…"

But before the smaller country could say anymore, Germany quickly and forcefully pushed his lips against his other, causing Italy's grasp on the edges of his apron to let loose, letting the pieces of plate crash back onto the floor. After several seconds of panic, Italy finally closed his eyes and let all of his worry go. "Italy…" He could hear someone called from inside his heart.

"W-who….?" He responded silently.

"I promised I would return to you, but for now, this is all I can do."

"H-Holy Roman…?"

"So please, wait for me."

Germany quickly pulled away, not giving Italy a chance to respond. Without looking him in the eyes, he readjusted his coat and mumbled something like 'make sure to clean that mess up' or something like that. But Italy couldn't hear him; he didn't mind what happened on the outside world anymore.

The older country stepped over the broken plaster and headed for the door, not bothering to look back. A hand waved from behind him, wising him good luck.

"I'll wait for you; Holy Roman Empire." He said so softly that only he could hear.

"I'll wait for you; forever."

"Because, while the heart may forget, the body will always remember"