Hi! OH PLEASE DON'T KILL ME! I'm so sorry for not updating in so long! And I know that neither my apology nor this meager, short chapter can make up for my long update-absence... Please forgive me! I know this chappie's short, but I still hope you enjoy! There will be further plot development, promise! This is one of my few ideas that's actually going somewhere ":)

Once again, I don't own Hetalia! ^^ Enjoy~

Italy clenched a hand over his heart, trying to calm his rapid pulse. "P-...Prussia?" he repeated. A nod came in reply. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. "So... you can hear me?"

Prussia shifted, looking confused. "Well, ja... I mean, why wouldn't I?"

Italy almost fainted and had to bite his lip to keep from the hyperventilation that threatened to overtake him. He managed an unsteady shake of his head. "N-Nothing... I-It's just that I-"

"Oi! Bruder! Where did- Oh, there you are." Germany's deep voice rang through the woods as he walked into the small clearing. "What are you doing out here?"

Italy waved timidly, mustering a quiet "Hi." Germany looked surprised.

"Oh, hello Italy," he greeted. He then looked back to Prussia. "You two haven't met yet, have you? I forgot to introduce you sooner..."

The older brother grinned and shook his head. "It's fine, West. Heh, he's cuter than you made him out to be..." he joked.

A pink dusted Italy's face and he stood up shakily, wincing as he made his way over to the pair and heavily favoring his uninjured ankle. Prussia noticed his limping gait and asked, "Oh, are you injured?"

"S-Si... It's not too bad though," Italy replied, a tiny smile gracing his lips.

"Hey, it's rude not to reply, Italy," Germany chided. "Why didn't you nod or shake your head?"

The Italian gave a start as he remembered what he had momentarily forgotten: whether or not this other man could actually hear him, it didn't change the fact that his words were still lost to his best friend. He donned a look that said 'Sorry', and quickly nodded.

Prussia, on the other hand, was perplexed by the gentle yet scolding words. "West, that's just mean," he accused, unaware that Italy's words could not be heard by his brother. Germany shook his head.

"What do you mean?"

"What'd you do that for?"

"Do what for?"

"Why'd you scold him? He didn't do anything wrong."

"He didn't respond to your question; he was being rude."

"Yes he did."

"After the fact, yes, but-"

"No, he answered me."

"No, he didn't."

Now Prussia was genuinely confused. "What do you mean, West? I heard him-"

Germany shook his head. "You must be tired. I didn't even hear-"

"I. Heard. Him. West, he said 'Si'. I heard him myself."

Germany gaped. "Y-You... what?"

"I heard him, dammit!" Prussia repeated, growing more and more annoyed with his little brother.

"B-But... That's impossible..." he said, shaking his head slowly. He shot a pained look to Italy, as if it tore him in two to know that someone as close as his brother could hear his best friend, but he himself could not. It probably did, to an extent. "I...I can't hear him..."

The older brother wore an irritated and confused expresssion. "What do you mean, you can't hear him? His voice is high, cute, and plain as day to me. Why can't you hear it?"

Germany hesitated a moment before turning away. He had no answer. Instead, he responded with "Why can YOU?"

"Why shouldn't I be able to? He asked the same question of me." He turned to Italy. "Didn't you? You said, 'You can hear me?' I know you did. But why ask? Is it abnormal that I'm able to hear another country-"

"Yes, Prussia. Yes, it is." Italy's surprisingly calm voice silenced him. He sighed as he looked away from the confused former nation before him. "You shouldn't be able to hear me, anyway," he said quietly, looking back at Prussia, "Because I'm cursed."