This turned out… Longer than expected. It's just some ridiculously fluffy cuteness, featuring an adorably affectionate Italy and a somewhat clueless Germany.

On Germany's Oblivious Ways

Italy was late for training.

Germany and Japan had been there since easily 10:45.

They were supposed to meet here at 11 AM. 'Too late for him to be sleeping in, too early for him to be eating pasta… I specifically scheduled it that way.' Germany thought, disgruntled. It was 11:05 now. 'What excuse could he possibly have?'

Germany paced back and forth, past the same tree, the same puddle, the same brick wall. He checked his watch, and checked it again. 11:15. 11:20. Late. Late, late, late!

He made an irritated noise. "Japan, stay here. I'll be back."

The blond stormed off, leaving Japan in a small cloud of dust. The quiet country sat on the short brick wall and watched the other hurry away in the direction of Italy's house.

'That useless, useless Italy… I bet he got distracted by a cute girl or something. Or lost track of time painting a picture…'

He thought for sure he would encounter Italy on the way there, hopefully sprinting in his direction. However, the further he got without any sign of the pasta-lover, the angrier it made him. 'Don't tell me he hasn't even left the house yet...'

He kicked at a rock, following the winding path up to Italy's doorstep. He cursed under his breath.

Kick, kick, kick. Mutter, mutter, mutter. Kick, kick kick…By the time he got to the doorway, he was incensed.

He knocked three times on the front door, hard enough to threaten bursting the door right in.

"Come iiiin…" Italy's voice chimed brightly.

The German let himself in and shut the door behind him. He looked over at Italy, who was sitting on the couch, playing with something small in his hands.

It was paper. In fact, the brunette was surrounded by scraps and sheets of paper. Was he making origami?

"Uh, Italy, what are you doing?" Germany asked. He had expected to see the other man rushing around getting ready, or perhaps still in bed, or sick or something. For a second, he was too confused to remember to be angry.

"I'm predicting the future!" Italy answered, cheerful as ever.

"It certainly does look like you're, oh, how do you say, uh, wasting time." He suggested, sarcastically, his bad mood starting to return.

"No no no, not at all!" He grinned, "See, look!" He waved the paper thing in Germany's general direction.

"What is that? This better be good. You're half an hour late for training, you know."

"Oh right… That was today, wasn't it? Ahaha… It's a cootie catcher! It tells your fuuuture!"

"I… sincerely doubt that."

"No, really! Here, I'll make you one, hold on!"

"Italy, you need to come to training! Japan's—"

But Italy was already gone, grabbing crayons, paper, and scissors on his way into his room.

"Don't run with scissors!" Germany called after him.

"I'm not!" Italy obviously lied.

Germany looked around, awkwardly. What exactly is the social protocol for waiting in someone else's living room alone, while they made you a… cootie masher? Cootie fracture? A, ah, cootie… capture? Yeah, that. What the hell was a cootie?

And why did it need to be captured? And how did it tell the future? Maybe if you captured a cootie, it would tell you the future. But what could you possibly catch with that little piece of paper? This just sounded like a bad idea.

He sat on Italy's couch, and almost jumped out of skin when he sunk into almost a foot into it. "How could anyone possibly find this comfortable?" He muttered. He looked around, listening to Italy's singing in the next room. Something light and airy, and happy.

Germany almost had to smile in spite of himself. Italy was so cute when he was happy. He glanced around, hoping something would catch his interest. His eye landed on a magazine on Italy's coffeetable. He could tell it was one of those terribly trashy things, the sort with the pictures of celebrities caught doing bad things. However, it was opened to a page without any misbehaving stars. It was the beginning of a list – '10 Cute Ways to Ask Out Your Crush'

Germany rolled his eyes at such a ridiculous article. No wonder Italy was so useless. This was what he read in his spare time. He looked away, glancing around at the various paintings and blown glass that decorated the room. It was rather indulgent for Germany's taste, but he couldn't deny it was all very beautiful. His eyes kept wandering to the magazine though… Was Italy planning on asking someone on a date?

Well, he certainly couldn't let Italy embarrass himself by doing something dumb. Maybe he would look over the options, just to make sure there wasn't anything too outlandish.

'Write them a song.' He read. 'If you or your crush are musically inclined, there is no better way to get your feelings out than through song. Make it personal, including why you like them, or a special memory you had together, but try not to pile on the cheese.'

This time, he did smile, recalling the time Italy had written him a song. Of course, it had been silly and pointless, but… Germany had never had a song written about him before. Not from someone so close to him like that.

Next to the second entry was a picture of an entirely overdecorated slice of cake, with the word 'Love?' written on the plate. 'Sweets for the sweet. You can't go wrong with their favorite dessert. Make use of frosting or chocolate to spell out your intentions – It's all about presentation.'

Again, this conjured up memories. Specifically, memories of finding Italy in his kitchen, using Germany's best ingredients to make gingerbread cookies. Admittedly, the first thing Germany had noticed was the intolerable state of his kitchen. (God, it was a wonder there were any finished cookies, considering the amount of ingredients covering the counters.) But Italy had pressed a fresh, hot cookie to his mouth, and, after that, he couldn't possibly be angry. It was one of the best things he'd ever tasted.

He licked crumbs from his lips and watched Italy turn around and grab a particular cookie sheet from the ocean of baked cookies. It had two little gingerbread people on it. Italy had meticulously decorated them, and Germany realized what they were right as Italy informed him, "Look, Germany! It's you and me!"

"That looks nothing like me." He had said, dismissively.

It had looked rather like him.

Back in the present, Germany read on.

'Put your feelings into words – The classic love letter is always a favorite. If you're shy, just leave it somewhere you know they'll see it. But if you're feeling daring, you can read it to them.'

The love letter, really? Were there no original ideas anymore?

He rolled his eyes and went on a mental rant about creativity not existing anymore, but really... He wouldn't mind getting a love letter from someone. Even as childish and cliche as it was... He'd never gotten one before. He barely got any kind of letters for that matter, not personal letters, anyway.

The last time someone had written him a letter…

Oh. That would be Italy. With that weird little note about the bad dream. And Russia. And that bit that he was scared that they wouldn't be… what was it? … 'B-F-Fs' anymore.

It was kind of cute in a way. Italy had really been that scared to lose him. That had to be worth something.

Eh, he was getting sentimental.

'Have a staring contest. It's a perfect excuse to stare into their eyes while gauging their reaction. Right when it's getting intense, go in for the kiss.'

Ha, that one wouldn't work. Italy was the worst at staring contests. They had had so many and Germany had always won… Now that he thought about it… They had had a lot of staring contests. Why did everything on this list remind him of Italia!

Surely it was just a coincidence. Italy was Italy. He was just weird.

'Ask your crush for love advice. It will get their mind going about who you could possibly be thinking of. Say something like, "I like this one guy, and he is really [something awesome about him]. I really want to ask him on a date, but I have no idea what to say." Make sure you give enough of a hint to leave them wondering. Then, a little while later, use the advice on them. If they were suspecting themselves all along, all the better. Who doesn't love being right?

Italy had asked him for love advice… Last week. What the hell was going on here?

Just as Germany was beginning to sense a trend, Italy finally emerged from the room, folded paper in hand.

"Here you go, Germany, it is special, just for you! Try it out, try it out!"

God, he was just so happy. Germany couldn't possibly say no to that.

"Alright, alright. How do you do it?"

"Ah! You just put your fingers in here… a-like this."

"Mmhmm."

"And you open it like this!" Italy moved Germany's hands, making the thing open one way, then the other.

"Alright. So how does it… Tell my future?" Germany asked, feeling quite silly.

"Close it, close it. You have to start at the outside."

He did, bringing the inner sides together so the tips touched in the center.

"You pick one of these colors." Italy pointed.

Red, Green, Orange, and Blue.

"Uh, green?" He asked, as if there was a wrong answer.

Italy moved Germany's hands once again, five times, once for each letter as he spelled out the word green.

The thing was open to four numbers now – 5, 7, 8, and 10.

"Go on, pick one."

"Seven?" Germany shrugged. This seemed so pointless. At least he got to move his own hands this time.

This time, the numbers were 3, 4, 11, and 17. Why couldn't they be in any semblance of order?

"Another number?" Germany asked, impatiently.

"Yeah. But, this time, you open it, and read under whichever number you picked. And whatever it says is your fortune." The smaller country smiled excitedly, as if he didn't already know what was going to happen. Germany was willing to bet that Italy had just made all these fortunes up – There weren't any cooties in the first place.

"Fine. Seventeen." He stated, and used two fingers to wrestle with the folded paper, trying to get it open.

When he finally did, he nearly choked on air.

'You will finally give in to Italy's charms and confess your undying love to him.'

"Huh? Italy! What is this garbage? You just made this up!" He shouted, blushing bright red and tossing the paper at Italy. It fell to the floor.

"Ah, friend, it is fate! There is no denying fate. The cootie catcher doesn't lie." Italy giggled, and slipped out the door. "Come on now, let's not keep Japan waiting."

"Oh, so now you suddenly care."

"Yep!"

After a moment's debate, Germany decided to take the cootie catcher with him. He picked it up, folded it flat and stuffed it in his pocket before following Italy out the door.

Later that night:

It had been a long day for Germany. He and Japan had worked hard (Italy had even tried harder than usual today) and his muscles were sore. He just wanted to take a hot shower and relax.

He started the water, letting it get warm as he took off his dirty clothes. As he pulled off his pants, however, a square of paper fell out of the pocket.

'Oh. That stupid thing Italy gave me… Hn. I might as well take a look at it…'

He unfolded it completely. 'Let's see what all my other fates are…' He thought, rolling his eyes.

17, of course, was the one he had already gotten. 11 read 'you will finally learn to smile', 10 said 'you will become a goat farmer' (what the hell?) 8 was 'You will buy Italy some pasta next time you go out together', 7 said 'You will wear a Speedo to the next World Meeting' (That was just wrong. On so many levels. Thank God he didn't get that one, or Italy probably would have forced him to actually do it.) 5 read 'You and Italy will be BEST FRIENDS forever!'. 3 was 'You will win all your arguments, with everyone, for the next 50 years.'

But the one that really got him was 4. He read it over and over, trying to figure out if Italy was serious or joking. 'Italy really really likes you. He would love to date you, all you have to do is say yes.'

-
END

Just some random silliness. I found one of these things on the floor of my car the other day, and, for some reason, I thought it was something Italy would do. Andyeah. Italy and Germany are adorable together, so I had to involve him…

I also keep getting a mental picture of Russia making one of these, and filling all 8 slots with 'You will become one with Mother Russia'. Anyway. Not going there. Mr. Russia is scary!

So. If anyone would like to draw this, or could tell me where I could find a drawing like this, you totally should. :D

Love, love,
-Rosalina.