Every year on certain dates country get scars and burns and stuff from there country March 17 is the day of unifacation for Italy. They are only visible on certain days.

March 17.

N. Italy's eyes stared at the ceiling wishing it could be any other day.
Any other day he was just human.
A nation, but human.
Today he was filled with the embodiment of his country, every event that ever acted as a tragedy was mapped out on his body in scars that stretched out like
cracked glass that looked like a spider web.
Only much more gruesome.
He groaned as he got up, his brother splayed out next to him.
They were always together on this day.
It was their day.
He went to his closet and put on his uniform, it covered most of the scars except for one that trailed up his neck from the place where his neck and shoulder met on his left and stopped about 1 and a half inch below his left eye, and one that was a burn, that made his right cheek and down, stopping about halfway on the right side of his neck. Around the edges of the burn it was pink and slightly puckered but towards the center of the injury it was red and black, and looked like lava that had cooled a little bit but was still hot flowing down a mountain.
He gasped in pain as Romano woke up.
One scar that started at his right shoulder and trailed down to left hip bone and mirrored one that Romano had exactly, stung as Romano yawned and stretch and grumbled.
He bit down at his lip as his eyes watered, remembering the day when he and Romano became two personifications.
They used to be one personification, one Italy.
Even when they had become two personifications they had still been very alike, the scar they bore from separating light and barely noticeable.
But thanks to France and Spain in hey had become wildly different, and the scar had become darker and more prominent each year, it had stopped changing and the differences became official in 1516.
Romano gasped and pain as his scar stung and then finally the moment passed and both brothers relaxed.
"Buongiorno fratello, we have a world meeting today."
Romano sighed and answered with a 'si.'
Romano was lucky he didn't have a lot of scars only about five including the large one almost identical to Feliciano's that symbolised their past separation, and two burns.
One on his back and one on his hand.
The one on his hand was on the top and was puckered, but the the one on his back although large was just red, like a light sunburn.
N. Italy being the official personification of Italy bore almost all of the scars.
Also Romano was lucky, if he wore gloves and his uniform all of his scars were hidden except a little niche on his cheek but it wasn't really visible.

They were the first at the world meeting, and N. Italy immediately put his head down.
As others came in they were surprised to find the Italian brother's already there.
There was also the fact Romano although glaring at everyone and everything, and Feliciano was asleep, but then again he might just be taking a siesta.
When every one was there Germany had been about to shake his Italian lover awake when Romano spoke.
"Don't, potato- Ludwig. Just don't."
Every one looked at Romano in surprise.
"Romano, are you okay?" Spain asked worriedly.
Romano did look worse for wear, especially with the bags under his eyes.
His brother had woken him up as the scars had spread across him painfully.
Every year Feliciano would cry out as the scars became visible, for hours he would struggle to not scream as the pain rippled over him.
For Romano his scars became visible in half an hour.
Romano rubbed his cheek and bright red eyes caught the light scar on the Italians face.
But nations don't scar, unless.
"Happy birthday!" Prussia yelled loudly to Romano.
Romano looked wearily at the Prussian.
Feliciano mumbled something before falling silent again.
Prussia laughed as he looked at Romano's almost flawless face and arms.
"Where are you scars? Is Italy that unawesome to not bear any?" Prussia.
"Bastardo! I am not the offical personification of Italy! Feliciano is!" Romano shouted angrily.
"Si, I bear most of the scars." Feliciano said, his head still buried in his arms.
Slowly he raise his head and the other nations gasped at the horrendous burn and the twisted scar marked on his face.
"Italia." Germany breathed out.
"Can we see your other scars?" America asked rudely.
Half of the countries glared at him and England even hit him calling him a 'stupid bloody git'.
Feliciano paused then nodded.
He unzipped the top half of his uniform and shrugged it down his shoulders.
A couple countries gasped at the scars that littered his arms.
Then he took his gloves to show scared, and unusually calloused finger.
When he took off his tank top America's face went pale.
He had one scar about the size of a fist in the middle of chest, it was shaped in the of an ornate cross.
The Pope and all the misery and tragedy it had caused and received. It was by far one of his oldest scar. It also kept changing.
He put his hand on one directly below his shoulder bone on the front.
"This one is from 485 A.D. Attila the Hun invaded but the Pope managed to get him to not sack Rome."
His hand moved about three inches down.
"This one is from when an Arab tribe invaded Sicily in 827 A.D. they capture Sicily in 878."
His hand moved to the one on his face.
"This is when Venezia, or Venice was at war with the Ottoman's in 1463. I lost most of the territory and have various scars from that, in 1571 though we destroyed an
Ottoman navy. In 1911 I took some land back from the Ottoman."
His hand moves down to one on the left side of his stomach.
"This and many other scars are from Napoleon."
"The burns are from heatwave, the one on my face is the worst and from the one in 2003."
At that France shuddered, no one suffered more than France in that heatwave.
Feliciano's hand moves to one that runs down from his right collar bone to the top of his stomach.
"This one is from 1862," at this one he chuckles darkly, "the first massacre by the mafia is carried out in Sicily."
He lowers his hand.
"Most are from being constantly being pulled by France, and Austria, some are from Spain, but Romano has most of those. Some are from the Ottoman Empire, and Arab
tribes, invasions. Some, some are from Germanic Empires. Germany... Ho-Holy Roma..."
He puts his hand on the large one that Romano also bears.
"This is from becoming two people. Romano has an identical one."
"Two people?" England asks.
"We used to just be one personification. One person." Romano says.
The other countries eye's widen at that.
"If you fought so much why do you surrender now?" America asked.
"You are a young but powerful country, but you do understand that sometimes the larger tower falls."
America flinches.
"My first love died when he went to war, and my grandpa did as well."
Italy sighs as he redresses.
"My people flourish in peace, we do not need to expand, but to grow as a nation. Besides I prefer my people learn the arts instead of war." Feliciano said sternly.
Feliciano sat down and the meeting continued per usual.
That night though Feliciano went with Germany and Romano went with Spain.
Germany kissed his lovers scars one by one as Feliciano told their stories, and how it had hurt to be spilt over and over again as people took and conquered ad invaded
his cities.
He listened as Feliciano explained how he had seen his grandfather Roma's scars.
He held Feliciano as he cried when he told about his first love.
He kissed Feliciano as Feli whispered,
'Ti amo.'
And he whispered back,
'Ich liebe dich.'

Baichan: I'm probably going to one like this with England and America!