Upside Down and All Around~

~ Rating: K+

~ Major Characters: Germany, Italy, Romano

~ Warnings: Mild GerxIta, a bit of Language, Humor/Suspense

~ Plot Summary: Italy is acting quite strange today and Germany is clueless on what to do. The other nations are shocked at Italy's sudden changes but Romano seems to know something. And what does this all have to do with the date?

XxXxX

A light breeze wafted through the open window and rustled the curtains. Sunlight shone throughout the room and upon the sleeping face of a young man nestled underneath the bedcovers. He stirred a bit and yawned sleepily. His eyes finally opened and squinted a bit against the brightness.

He noticed that the bed next to him was empty.

As usual.

He turned on his side and his eyes fell upon the digital clock on the desk across the room. The time showed eight in the morning and the date...The date! His mouth widened into a mad grin.

Yes, today was that day. He giggled and sprang out of bed, impatient to put his plans into action.

Oh, what fun!

XxXxX

Germany was in quite a good mood today. His paperwork had been fully completed the night before and his coffee tasted especially good this morning (he had opened the newly bought package with the hazelnut flavor!). The house looked tidy and he had even gone out on a morning walk with his three dogs.

There was a G8 meeting later on in the afternoon, but it was a short one that would only go over the topics they didn't cover the week before.

Yes, today was going to be a good day...

"Damn it!" A loud yell followed an equally loud crash upstairs. Startled at the sudden noise, Germany almost choked on his drink. He put the mug down on the countertop and immediately hurried towards the sound.

Italy? But it couldn't be him who had cursed! Did Romano sneak in without me noticing? …No, of course not...

"Italy? What happened?" he said as he poked his head into his bedroom. The sight that met his eyes almost forced out a laugh from his throat. The Italian was sprawled rather comically on the carpeted floor in front of the bathroom. He noticed the linoleum material of the bathroom was shiny and wet with water and realized what happened. The source of the crash was the table lamp and digital clock that Italy had probably grabbed to prevent himself from falling.

"Italy! Are you okay?" Germany made his way over to help his friend up from the floor. He heard a faint huff of annoyance and the other pushed away the helping hands. The German was startled to see an irritated frown on the usually way-too-cheerful face.

Is that even possible for him?

"I'm fine, Germany," he replied, shortly. "Would you be so kind as to tell me where you keep the soap? I was trying to find it myself, when I slipped." His voice was tinted with sarcasm and his frown deepened.

Germany stared at him, only responding when Italy raised an eyebrow icily.

"Erm, I – well, I must have forgotten to replace it. I'll go get a new one." And he hurried out to the storage closet in the hallway.

What had happened to Italy? Where were the pitiful tears when he had fallen to the floor? He even pushed him away when he tried to help! Where were his ve's? Why did he sound like England or – or Austria?

Germany fumbled for a bar of soap and made his way back quickly, in case he got Italy more irritated.

Well, isn't that new? I never thought I'd be afraid of getting Italy irritated of all things...

He found the bathroom door to be closed when he got back and he knocked and cleared his throat. The door opened barely three inches and a single hand was thrust out. He put the soap on the outstretched palm and the door snapped shut.

"Er, tell me if you...need anything else, okay?"

No response.

Inside, he could hear noises of shuffling and then a tap being opened. Not knowing what to do next, he looked around the room for any clues to Italy's sudden personality change. Nothing out of the ordinary caught his eyes. He replaced the lamp and the clock (nothing broken, thank goodness), noted it was 8:30, and made the bed (as usual).

He was fine yesterday, right?

They had eaten a nice dinner of linsensuppe and spezzatino, finishing it off with wine (for Italy) and beer (for Germany). Of course, Italy was upset that he had to finish paperwork and had complained for a bit but soon went off to sleep.

Is he still upset about that?

No, the Italian would've told him yesterday if was truly upset (something he rarely was) and he wouldn't hold a grudge that lasted until the next day. Just to be safe, however, Germany decided he would apologize over breakfast.

As he made his way downstairs and picked up his now-cold coffee, he hoped that Italy would be in a better mood by then.

XxXxX

He heard footsteps die away and stifled a raucous laugh. No, he couldn't ruin it by laughing. He had to follow through with his plan. With their plan.

He allowed himself a smirk, though, before moving onto the next step.

XxXxX

"Italy, what...are you wearing?" Germany resisted the urge to stare.

The other narrowed his eyes and a frown replaced the relatively calm expression he had when he came downstairs.

"Why? What's wrong with it?"

"Well, you're wearing...it's just that...you don't usually wear something like that."

Germany wasn't exactly fashion conscious but he did know when something didn't really look right. On the other hand, Italy was always at his best, even when he was dressed casually. It came along with his culture, of course. But this...

Starting with his damp, bed-head hair (did he even bother to brush it today?), his rather creased, overly-large sweatshirt that was hanging off of his frames, his bright purple, baggy shorts (where did even get those?), and his bright orange socks, he looked...

There wasn't even a word to describe it.

Italy shrugged.

"I'm trying something different." There was a tone of finality to his voice.

"...Oh."

And that seemed to be the end of that matter. Trying his best to ignore the…colorful sight in front of him, Germany served breakfast on the table. He had made cappucino and cornettos, both of which were Italy's breakfast favourites, and added some ham on toast for himself. They sat down in front of their meal and started eating.

The blond glanced up at Italy and ran through his apology again in his mind. Germany had planned it out while preparing the morning meal and was going to offer his whole day to the Italian. That would definitely make him happy! He cleared his throat to speak and opened his mouth…

"There's a meeting today, right?" Italy said, abruptly stopping Germany. Not letting him to even answer, the brunette continued, "Romano's actually coming to this one, you know?"

He swallowed a bit of food and continued, preventing Germany from speaking yet again.

"You'd think that being half of a country would teach him responsibility but no, I have to manage most of everything. As if I'm the older brother…" He drank a sip of the coffee. "And then, there's the meeting itself that's pointless! Honestly, America's just going to rant again about his 'great ideas'" he air-quoted the last two words, "and England's going to get mad at him again. Not that I blame him…"

He finished the last pieces of his cornetto and set his fork down, finally looking over at the blond man in front of him.

"Something's going to fly into your mouth if you keep it wide open like that!" Indeed, Germany was having a mild case of paralysis by the Italian's speech, all thoughts of apology completely disappeared.

Italy shook his head in disapproval, his wayward curl flying, and picked up a piece of food from the German's plate. He leaned in and shoved it gently into the other's mouth, forcing it to close.

"Hmm~ that's better…Anyway, where was I?"

And he continued with his own rant, mentioning France's incredibly unattractive attempts to seduce him, Russia's general creepiness, Canada's invisibility, and the stupidity of everyone for mistaking him as America.

"Honestly, Canada has purple eyes and a huge polar bear! People would have to be blind or idiots to not notice him. And Russia goes and sits on him! Wouldn't he feel that he was sitting on someone?" He sighed exasperatedly, feeding Germany his breakfast throughout his whole tirade because apparently the blond man seemed incapable to do so himself.

Germany's brain had truthfully short-circuited.

Italy was thinking these things all this time? But why did he keep it all bottled up? And what made him explode today? Well, people have to let it out sometime, I guess. Should I say something? Oh wait, I can't because my mouth is full with food!

Finally, Germany just pushed away Italy's forkful of ham.

"Italy, enough!" The rant stopped mid-sentence and brown eyes turned to him. "Italy, are you feeling quite alright? You seem upset and…not like your usual self." This was definitely an understatement.

The brunette laughed in response and, Gott, Germany had missed it. Never had he gone so long without that carefree sound. "I'm feeling great, Germany! Talking about those idioti is calming, you know. Maybe that's why Romano calls everyone a bastardo! I should try it too…"

Germany resisted the urge to facepalm.

XxXxX

Italy drummed his fingers on the armrest of his seat, a frown back on his face. To his left sat Germany, looking quite uncomfortable.

"…lenti come lumache, questi Inglese…" the Italian muttered under his breath as they finally started to move. Germany knew enough of the language to understand the gist of what he said.

In short, they were stuck in traffic in the middle of London on their way to the meeting. Although Italy had been grumpy – yes, grumpy - before they even started their journey.

In the middle of washing the dishes after their breakfast, Italy had stubbed his toe on one of the wooden cabinet doors, promptly dropping the plate he was carrying, on his other foot.

More than worrying about the plate or his feet, Germany had been shocked to hear the string of curse words Italy had let out, most of them in his native language. For a minute, Germany had almost thought it was Romano that was in front of him.

The brunette had hobbled upstairs without saying a word, a deep frown creasing his forehead yet again, and left an utterly confused German to finish the rest of the dishes.

The blond man now realized just how much Italy had affected his life since allying with him all those years back. He terribly missed his carefree laughs, his random hugs and kisses, and most of all, his radiant smile. He could hardly imagine what his life was like before the bright, cheerful Italian.

He spent the rest of the morning wandering around the house aimlessly, trying to figure out what was wrong with Italy and how to fix it. Not that Italy helped him in figuring it out. He avoided any questions with short answers or just frowned at him and ignored them.

Back to the present and they were sitting in stuffy silence inside one of the black cabs that London was famous for. Even the driver sent them occasional glances, nervous at the tense atmosphere.

Germany was immensely relieved when they arrived at the building and could hurry inside. Italy, however, chose to wait in the lobby to meet his brother, leaving the blond man to go up to the meeting room by himself.

Hopefully...will he feel better after seeing his brother?

XxXxX

"How's it going?"

He giggled, unable to hold in his laughter any longer.

"You'll see..."

XxXxX

Germany sighed, rather wearily.

"Doesn't Italy usually come with you, Germany? The Hero can't wait any longer..."

The blond man turned towards the speaker. "He said he would meet his brother first, America...I don't know what's taking them so long."

7 countries of the G8 were presently sitting around the large oak table in the conference room, waiting for the two halves of the eighth country.

"Southern Italy is coming too? That's a pleasant surprise," England scoffed. "Let's just start without –"

The door opened with a bang and two people shuffled in nonchalantly, offering no excuse for their tardiness.

"Ah, Italy-kun, we've been...eto, are you alright, Italy-kun?" Japan stared at his friend.

Indeed, all the countries (except Germany, who had already been dreading this moment) were staring at the younger Italian. He had a deep frown darkening his face and an incredibly condescending look in his narrowed eyes. His brother had the exact same expression and without the usual difference in personality, they now looked like twins.

"I'm fine, Japan."

Germany had to stop from slapping himself on the forehead in frustration. Instead he just coughed and stood up. "We'll start the meeting now." He tried to ignore the confused and questioning glances the other Nations gave him.

"America will go first on his plan for preventing greenhouse gases and we can then continue discussing the matter of international trade from last week," he said, nodding to America and taking his seat.

As the American swaggered up to the podium, the rest of them thanked the Gods that he had finished his burger while waiting for the Italy brothers.

"Yeah so I think we should build a big, you know like humongous, greenhouse all around the world so that…"

Classic America.

Tuning out the sound of his obnoxious voice, the rest of Nations instead focused on the younger Italy. The usually chipper boy was now staring intently at the polished wooden desk, face creased into a frown. Romano seemed to be having an internal struggle and kept his mouth hidden behind his right hand.

"…the glass'll have to be really, really green, obviously, like a forest green, 'cause ya know, we're saving the forests and stuff…" he chuckled at his mild joke.

Italy had brought out his hand and was drumming it rather loudly on top of the desk. Not that America noticed. France was scooting away from the Italian, not willing to disturb whatever he was going through. Japan looked uncomfortable, looking between Germany (who now had a headache) and Italy.

"…and that's how the Hero will save the day!"

Italy started growling slightly. Romano was now hiding his face in his arms and his shoulders were suspiciously shaking. Russia simply stared, forgetting to put up his own threatening aura.

"…England will totally back me up on this and there will be no opposing opinion!" And he laughed, unaware of the tense situation.

Germany noticed the Englishman twitch and open his mouth to no doubt rage at his former charge but someone unexpected beat him to it. A screech of chair on floor grabbed everyone's attention towards a certain fuming Italian.

"Porca vacca! How stupid can you be?"

America raised his eyebrows in surprise as Italy made his way up to the podium and stood, a few inches shorter, in front of him.

"W-what?"

"How the hell are we supposed to build something like that? First of all, the amount of money it would take would throw the world into economic depression and second of all, the sun would burn through the ozone layer and sizzle the earth before we're even done building!"

"Oh…well I didn't think about…"

"Of course you didn't! Do you ever? I honestly don't know how England puts up with your hamburger brains but I certainly would've set the mafia on you."

America stared back, at a complete loss for words. Italy looked like he was ready to slap the dopey look off his face but turned on his heels instead and headed for the main door. 16 pairs of eyes followed him silently.

"I am not wasting my time at a meeting where we get nothing productive done." He glared back at America one last time and slammed the door.

A shaky cough, that sounded more like a hidden bark of laughter, grabbed their attention to the other half of Italy. Romano had stood up and the corners of his mouth were slightly twitching.

"I-I better go and…see what's wrong with him…" Quick footsteps led him to the door and he too was gone.

A heavy silence fell over the rest of the countries. America simply stood there at the podium, not taking his eyes off of the mahogany door.

"…Bloody hell…"

And for once, everyone agreed.

XxXxX

"Dio, sei stato formidabile!"

Italy chuckled. "Veramente?"

Romano ruffled his younger brother's hair (avoiding the rampant curl). "Good job, Feli. Never knew you had it in you."

"Italy! Where did you go?" a worried voice called out from around the corner. Romano frowned in annoyance at the person as the younger Italian pushed him away, gesturing for him to hide.

"I'll call you later, Romano…I have to explain it to Germany first." He giggled. "He seemed a bit worried earlier."

Romano scoffed, rolling his eyes, but disappeared into a nearby restroom just as Germany rounded the corner. He spotted Italy standing nonchalantly against the wall, looking back at him with expressionless eyes.

The blond sighed in relief, glad that the other hadn't run off somewhere.

"Let's go, Germany. I don't have all day to wander about this place." Germany stared at him. Italy started walking away.

"W-wait a minute! You don't mean…but we have to go back! We can't skip a meeting!" he spluttered out, jogging to catch up with the brunette.

Italy stopped abruptly, barely leaving Germany enough time to stop himself from bumping into his back.

"I meant what I said, Ludwig…I'm not going to bore myself with a completely useless meeting." He started moving towards the elevator.

Germany stared at his retreating back, completely frustrated with his ally. He watched in growing irritation as the brunette talked on. He tried to interrupt but got cut off.

"It was happening exactly the way I predicted, no? America had some idiotic plan that he didn't even think through and England was ready to start a fight. France would've just –"

And Italy suddenly found himself being roughly whirled around to face Germany, his back pressing against the wall. He looked up into bright blue eyes, and the flippant look in his own eyes faded to one of slight fear.

"G-Germany, what –?"

"Enough, Italy!" The harsh look in his eyes turned to one of desperation. "What's wrong with you today, Feliciano? You never act like this, it isn't you! You're sweet and oblivious and sometimes downright annoying but not, not emotionless and easily annoyed."

"Lud–" The blond gently shook the smaller Nation, cutting off the other's response.

"No! You will stop acting like this right now." His eyes softened. "Please stop…"

Italy frowned a bit. "But that's just it! You said I'm annoying, right? I don't want to be a pest to someone I care about!"

Germany looked surprised. "Is that what this is all about? You want to prove that you're not annoying?" He sighed. "It's not really working, Feliciano. You just made everyone confused and worried."

He looked away.

"I-I think this is the first time I realized how much you've changed my life since we first met. Now, I'm always prepared for interruptions in my work and I keep at least 10 packets of pasta in the kitchen. I've gotten used to your peculiarities and I don't want you to change. So please just…stop acting like this."

"…ve~"

Germany almost cried in relief at that familiar sound, his head snapping up to look at the brunette. His brown eyes had their normal brightness and he had a small smile gracing his lips.

"You…are you back to normal?" he asked, a bit childishly. Italy giggled.

"Si, of course~ Ludwig asked so sweetly…"

Germany ignored that comment, instead trying to quell the emotions bubbling inside him. It was a curious feeling that made him want to hug the Italian…

"Ve~ I never told Ludwig why I acted this way, did I?" he heard Italy say, breaking into his thoughts. He looked up and saw that the brunette's smile had turned into something more mischievous.

"What? Yes you did, you said it was because…"

Italy shook his head and broke free of Germany's hold. He walked to the elevator and pressed the call button. "What date is it, Ludwig~?" He turned to look at the blond.

Huh…?

"Uh, April 1st, why?"

Italy grinned. "And what do people celebrate today?"

Ludwig frowned.

Celebrate? April…April 1st

…Oh…Gott…

His eyes widened comically as he realized the missing piece. Why Italy was acting this way, why he wore that ridiculous clothing at breakfast, why he had specifically knocked over the alarm clock when he 'tripped' in the bathroom…

He didn't know if he should admire Feliciano's cunning or be exasperated with him. Either way, he felt like the biggest idiot in the world.

He heard a soft giggle and looked up at the conniving Italian, who was now smirking.

"Happy April Fool's, Ludwig~"

XxXxX

Translations

1. Linsensuppe (German) :: Lentil Soup

2. Spezzatino (Italian) :: Beef Stew

3. Cornetto (Italian) :: Croissants

4. Idioti/Bastardo (Italian) :: Idiot/Bastard

5. …lenti come lumache, questi Inglese… (Italian) :: ...slow as snails, these English...

6. Porca Vacca (Italian) :: Swear word that literally means 'pig cow' and is used the same way as 'Dammit'

7. Dio, sei stato formidabile (Italian) :: God, you were terrific

8. Veramente (Italian) :: Really?

9. Gott (German) :: God

Author Notes

April Fools Fanfic? In June? Yes...I am beyond fashionably late. But it had to be done. I was about ready to give up on this fanfic halfway through it but I love Italy when he's angry/irritated, so I continued and churned out this massive piece of rushed words and a loose plot.

The ending? Well, technically, I have an omake planned out if people are interested. It involves the rest of the G8 and their reaction + some USUK...I'll write it later on and see if it turns out good. For now, this is it~

With Pasta and Love, dolcespoir~