How Could We Not Remember?
A GerIta fanfic (Fem!Italy x Germany)
Rated K+
Warnings: Fem!Italy, which means the pairing is not boyxboy, obviously. AU. Somewhat a bit more mature Feliciana?

By Galgenhumor (FF) / cl41r3 (Tumblr)

Feliciana (Fem!Italy's POV)

I was five years old, and the sun was going down. The red-orange sky was the same colour as the sandbox I was sitting in. I thought it was a day like any other; one without incident and unordinary happenings.

"It's almost dark..." I said. My voice was tiny, befitting for a child my age. I was patting the sand in the sand bucket to even it out.

"So it is..." my childhood friend replied, although he sounded half-hearted. I noticed he was acting differently that day.

"HRE," that was the nickname he asked me to call him, "Is everything okay? Why do you look sad?" I asked him, leaning closer to peer at his face.

"I-It's because..." he had a hard time saying it. "I..." he breathed in, trying to recollect himself.

Before he even got three words in, his mother appeared from behind and held his shoulder with a manicured hand. She was a pretty lady, and she was nice too, from what I can remember. She would make delicious food for me whenever I came over with HRE. Her hair was long and blonde, with a tiny braid hanging on the left side of her face. Her eyes were blue, like the calm sea on s sunny day. She also had an ample chest. "Süßer, are you done?" she asked him. I didn't really understand the first word, though. Maybe it was some foreign language.

"Mutti!" he exclaimed as he used the German word for mother, turning around to face her. "I was just about to tell her!"

"Tell me what?" I looked at both of them, confused. Have they been hiding something from me?

"Feli..." HRE spoke again, trying to gain the courage he needed to tell me whatever it was. "I'm moving." he sighed, looking down at his lap, avoiding my gaze.

"What?" I shouted in disbelief. This can't be true! "You... You can't... Where?"

"Germany... Back to our hometown..." he looked like he was about to cry. I stared at him disbelievingly. Germany was another country, right? He can't do this... He can't leave... He's my only friend...

His mother stood behind him, calming him down as he sobbed quietly.

"Y-you're leaving..." I repeated, as the realisation dawned upon me. I stuck my hand inside my jumper's pocket, looking for something.

"Here." I handed it to him. It was a paintbrush charm. Some meaningless, materialistic thing to remember me by. My lips were trembling, and my hands were shaking. I was on the verge of crying too. "Promise me you'll come back..."

He nodded before standing up, his knees looking wobbly. He suddenly hugged me, and after a fraction of a second he let me go. "I'll miss you, Feli." he smiled at me weakly, before he and his mother turned around, walking away. They left me sitting in the red-orange sandbox in the playground as the sun went down. I cried silently, not wanting to draw attention to the nearby people. I didn't recall going home. My knees were weak and I found it hard to stand up. I guess my brother went looking for me and took me back home. I never saw him again. I didn't know how to contact him; I had no address, no real name, no telephone number, nothing. He never contacted me, either. I always wondered why he asked me to call him HRE and why he never told me his real name. As years passed by, I learned how to just let it go and move on, forget about it and not cling onto the past.

I was twenty-four years old. I woke up, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. It was nine in the morning. I recall somebody moving in to the apartment next to mine yesterday while I was locked up in my art room, painting. I stretched my arms, yawned, got off the bed and put on some clothes. My hair was an awful mess and my eyes refused to open wide. It was a Saturday. I didn't have work in the museum today, which means I get to laze around at home and maybe paint for a few hours.

Two hours later, I was dressed properly and well-fed. I decided to meet this new neighbour, and perhaps apologise for the late welcome. I took a plate of spaghetti which I made this morning as some sort of welcome offering.

I knocked on the door of the newcomer. "Signore?" I called out, holding the plate of pasta in my other hand. "Is there anyone home?"

The door opened a few seconds later. A tall, stoic, blonde man appeared before the doorway. He looked neat and proper. It was kind of unnerving.

"Ah, Signore!" I smiled at him amiably. "I thought I'd drop to give you some pasta. Welcome to the neighbourhood!"

"Oh, um, thank you, Miss..." he looked nervous, like he wasn't used to talking to other people.

"Vargas. Miss Feliciana Vargas."

"Ah, pleased to meet you. I'm Ludwig Beilschmidt." he nodded stiffly. "Let me take that inside." he gestured to my plate.

"No, no, let me do that!" I shook my head, refusing to let me help. I am the helpful neighbour here, I am trying to make a good impression!

He stepped aside and let me in, apologising for the awkward mess. He just moved in yesterday so there were still plenty of unopened boxes around. I didn't mind. When I first moved in, my brother had to yell at me to do something about the sea of objects in my house. It was so much messier than this.

I placed the plate on the table and he invited me to have some coffee. That's how I ended up sitting down across him, the pasta in the middle of the dining table. Not meaning to be rude, but whatever this slop is, it's not coffee. I couldn't complain, of course. I had to stomach drinking the awful substance.

"So, where did you move from?" I asked, striking up conversation.

"Berlin, Germany. I lived there for most of my life." he replied in his deep voice before taking another sip from his cup.

"What brings you here, then?"

"I decided to return to Italy, I guess. No real reason. I miss it here. Used to live here before when I was a little kid." he smiled a bit as if the memory made him smile nostalgically. I only nodded.

"How old are you, then?"

"Twenty-five. And you?"

"Twenty-four."

"Job?"

"Museum worker and painter." I happened to paint in my spare time, selling my paintings to whoever might be interested. I take commissions and whatnot. My brother gets jealous of me whenever he sees me paint. He never tells me, but I could tell.

"That's nice." he nodded, smiling a bit. "I'm still looking for a job, since I am new here."

"Do you have any friends here who might be able to help you out?"

"No, I guess I'm all alone." he laughed a bit.

"Are you alone?" I asked. I noticed he had a lot of things but he was all alone.

He nodded. "My brother initially wanted to come along and live with me, but he changed his mind. He's a fickle one, my brother."

"I see. My brother lives with me but he doesn't come home all the time. He usually stays over with his best friend and co-worker, Toni."

We talked for a few hours until I had to excuse myself to go back to my apartment. He had to go unpack his things. He told me that I looked vaguely familiar. I took it as a flattering compliment more than anything else.

"Merda..." I swore to myself, annoyed at my co-worker, Elizaveta. I was standing in front of the apartment complex's entrance, dressed in winter clothes. It was quite chilly.

Me and Elizaveta were supposed to go to a movie festival together but she had to bail at the last minute because her so-called 'long-time crush', Roderich, asked her out. I sighed and sat on the front steps for a while. I held the tickets; she said I can just take someone else with me so that her ticket will be put to good use. No one's available tonight, though. My boss, Vash, would never accept an invitation. My friend Lili already had plans tonight. My brother Lovino is upstairs, cursing his Spaniard best friend Toni again. I bet they had an argument. I was thinking of inviting Ludwig, when he appeared behind me all of a sudden. Speak of the Devil.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked me, looking down at my hunched figure. I turned around, looking taken aback by his sudden appearance.

"Oh, buon giorno, Ludwig." I smiled a bit at him. "I was going to go to a movie festival tonight with my friend, but she cancelled at the last minute. Now I have a spare ticket and I have no one else to invite."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." he took a few steps down before sitting beside me.

"Do you have any plans?" I asked him casually. He looked all dressed up so I guess he did.

"No, I was just about to go to the store since I ran out of sausages."

"Really? Can you come with me to the movie festival, then?" I asked him hopefully.

"Um, all right..."

"Here, hold on to the ticket." I gave him my other ticket, feeling happy because I had someone to go with now.

We went to the movie theatre and bought some popcorn before going in. Ludwig was acting very stiff and courteous with me. I guess it's because we just met and all.

"Loosen up a bit!" I told him in a slightly hushed tone when we were already seated inside. They were still showing movie trailers before the actual movie began while the other patrons rushed to their seats.

"What do you mean?" he asked, looking confused.

"Don't act so stiff all the time! I mean, we're friends here, aren't we?" I laughed. I always thought friendship goes without saying, really. Like, when you and another person have this positive bond with one another, even if it's not that strong yet, it makes you friends. I suppose it doesn't go that way for Ludwig, therefore I have to remind him.

"Friends, huh..." he muttered, contemplating the fact. I was afraid he would protest and tell me that no, we are not friends. "All right, I'll try to loosen up." the corners of his lips turned up in a half-smile.

"That's the spirit!" I grinned at him, before the movie started.

We stayed there for hours, the marathon ending at around one in the evening. We ran out of popcorn movies ago, and we had to go for bathroom breaks in between movies (actually, it was only me who had to go to bathroom breaks a lot — Ludwig had a surprisingly withstanding bladder).

We walked together on the way home. It wasn't really safe for a lady like me to go alone, and besides, we lived in the same building. I shoved my hands in my pockets, breathing out of my mouth, observing the little white puffs of breath. Ludwig kept awfully quiet.

"Did you like the movies?" I asked him.

"Yeah." he nodded briefly. He didn't sound like he enjoyed it at all. I pouted, looking awfully disappointed with his lame reaction.

"'Yeah'?" I repeated, cocking a brow at him. "Is that all?" I got the feeling that he only said that so that I wouldn't feel bad for wasting his time or something.

"I really enjoyed it, honestly." he turned to me, his brows creased in a slight frown, as if he was confused with my expression.

"...If you say so..." I sighed. I really did hope he enjoyed himself, because I certainly did not want to just waste his time on that.

He walked me to my apartment door, yawning a bit before saying "Guten Nacht.", slipping into German probably because he was sleepy. I giggled and wished him a good night as well before going inside. My brother, Lovino, was sprawled onto the couch, the TV still on but toned down to a low volume, his snores heard over the football game reruns. He stirred awake at the presence of me going inside. Lovino's quite a light sleeper, unlike me.

"Oh, it's you. Where were you?" he groaned, sitting up. He looked a bit worried. Honestly, I'm 24 and I can look out for myself, thank you very much.

"Hm? I went to the movie festival with Ludwig, our new neighbour." I smiled, placing my bag on the table before removing my shoes.

"Huh? That new German guy? I dunno... Is he nice to you?" he asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"What's with the question, fratello?" I laughed, not getting why he was acting all protective all of a sudden. "He's really nice. A bit stiff and all but nice." I nodded.

"...I don't really like him, but it's not really my position to say anything. As long as he's nice to you." he sighed before falling back onto the couch.

"Don't you want to move to your bedroom?" I frowned, concern showing in my voice.

"I'm okay here. You go to sleep now or something." he grunted, waving me off.

"Okay..." I looked at him weirdly, before going inside my room. I remembered something I had to ask him, though. I popped my head out of the doorframe of my door and asked him, "Hey, did you and the Spaniard get into a fight again?"

"What makes you say that?" he turned, looking annoyed.

"I heard you yelling swear words at him earlier."

"Y-you weren't supposed to hear that!" he slapped his palm onto his forehead and sighed. "Yeah, we did. I guess it's my fault and not his and that I should have just apologised but I guess he's pretty mad at me now because I called him a bunch of awful names." he shrugged, his voice sounded regretful. "Eh, no matter, I'll just fix it tomorrow." I will never understand how he can just wave off his problems like that.

"Okay, good night then." I nodded before closing the door behind me.

The large glass ornament crashed, and I watched while I was on the floor as my foot bled onto my expensive carpet. I was frozen to my spot; blood was something I can't handle myself.

"Dio mio..." I muttered to myself, taking a deep breath. Shards of my glass ornaments were on the floor, shiny flecks of shattered glass were on the carpet fur, and shrapnels cut my skin in no particular direction at all.

"Feliciana?" a deep voice asked through the door, knocking urgently. I'd love to answer the door, but I'm currently sprawled down here with my foot bleeding. How does one say that...?

"I... Um..." I stammered, unsure with my next course of action. I carefully dragged my body across the floor towards the door (not a good idea since I was dragging myself against a carpet), avoiding moving my bad foot too much. I reached up and opened the door with much difficulty, considering I was on the floor.

Ludwig stared at me with wide, shocked blue eyes. Well, I suppose it would look weird; a trail of blood on my carpet, glass shards on the floor and me in front of him trying to support my upper body up using my arm.

"U-um, hi!" I tried to say cheerfully.

"Hi?" Ludwig looked dumbstruck with my reaction. "This is no time to be saying hi! What happened? Wait, let me help you first..." he helped me up, holding me under my arms as he hoisted me up on his shoulder. He looked just as confused as I am. He sat me down on a stool inside the bathroom, next to the tub.

"Where's your first-aid kit?"

"I think it's in the cabinet... Brother keeps it there all the time since I get into accidents a lot..." I chuckled silently, feeling embarrassed about my frequent mishaps.

He left to go look for the first-aid kit before coming back, a white plastic box with a similarly white handle in his hand. He placed it on the floor, taking out its contents. He then slowly placed my leg over the bathtub's edge, holding my foot under the tap. The water gushed from the tap when he turned it on, the pressure making me wince a bit. The blood washed away and into the drain. He carefully tried to clean the wound with soap, but I hissed too much so he didn't really get to finish it all.

He placed my leg in front of him again, gently patting it dry before placing the anti-septic, then the gauze. I was usually wincing, the treatment was a bit painful due to the wound. He said I was lucky that I didn't have shards of glass inside my foot, or else he'd have to take them out and it would be more painful.

"Why did you come here anyway?" I asked him curiously. "You're like a hero or something, showing up at the right minute!" I laughed.

"I heard a very loud crash. I thought something bad happened, like a burglar or some accident. Apparently, it was the latter."

I remember what happened before that. I blearily got out of my room, eyes slightly teary from sleep. I closed my eyes and yawned, still walking. I accidentally bumped into my ornament shelf, and I was caught by surprise since I knew the objects placed there were highly fragile. My eyes snapped open but the glass decor quickly toppled and crashed onto my foot, making me yelp in pain and crash onto the floor somehow.

"Thank you." I weakly smiled at him, nodding. I really don't like relying on people. I usually end up having to be taken care of or attended to by another person. Take my brother, Lovino, for example. My co-worker, Liz, when I have work problems and boss (Mr. Zwingli) issues. Now, Ludwig, my neighbour.

"You're welcome. Please be careful next time." he said, his face unchanging and quite stony.

He moved me to the living room, since my foot still hurt a bit. It was scratched everywhere, even the sides. I had a large wound on the centre of my foot, where it stung whenever I moved it.

It was almost dinner time, since I just woke up from my siesta around 30 minutes ago or something. I wanted to cook for me and Ludwig, since he helped me and all, but I can't help but wince horribly whenever I turn my foot even the slightest.

"I can't even make dinner now..." I whined, placing my hand on top of my eyes.

Ludwig's answer surprised me a bit, "I can make dinner for you." I never knew he cooked or anything. In any case, I was grateful that I didn't have to call the pizza delivery. He stood up and I grabbed the back of his shirt.

"Wait, no, it's okay, you don't have to do it! Don't go through the trouble, after you just treated my wounds..." I looked horrified, not wanting him to go to the kitchen and cook for me. I didn't want to rely on him again.

"Well, you can't move with your foot now, and I suppose you wouldn't want to waste money on delivery." he turned back to look at me with a slight frown.

He's right. I sighed, "O-okay... I guess you can... I'm sorry you had to do this."

"Don't apologise." he grumbled a bit before walking over to the kitchen and started cooking. I noticed he was a very clean cook, and that he's pretty quiet as well. I normally hum or turn on the radio or pop in a CD while I cook to fill in the silence, but he kept quiet. I tried offering him some music, and I tried making conversation with him, but he said he didn't want to be distracted. I fell silent and just focused on watching him cook. Also, Ludwig is very clean. He cleans while he cooks, so that afterwards he doesn't have much to clean. He wipes up immediately after, he's careful when he prepares to not get any food on the counter or on the floor, stuff like that. I usually do cleaning after eating, because it's much easier that way for me.

The smell of stew was wafting in the apartment. I sniffed the delicious scent and watched him ladle some stew onto two bowls.

He offered one to me and sat down on the couch next to me. "Normally, I would have prepared German sausages, bratwurst, but your apartment had none." he casually said.

"Is it good?"

"I guess. It depends, really."

"You should cook that for me someday. I bet you make really good German sausages." I laughed and grinned at him. He slightly blushed, which kinda looked weird.

"Maybe I should. Someday." he smiled a bit and nodded. "It's been a while since I have made bratwurst for somebody else."

We talked a bit between spoonfuls of stew, just random things, really. The stew was delicious, and he was a nice person to talk to when he warmed up to me a bit. My foot hurt less than before; actually, I forgot about it as we chatted. The two, empty bowls were stacked on top of the other moments later, our stomachs full of delicious stew thanks to Ludwig.

"Thank you for the meal." I smiled, patting my stomach. He nodded and repeated me. I leaned back and closed my eyes for a moment, my breathing calm and my mind somewhat empty. Empty for only a few moments, that is.

"You look familiar." Ludwig said all of a sudden, breaking the silence. I was thinking of exactly the same thing! He must have read my mind... I opened my eyes, feeling so confused about all this. His eyebrows were creased into a concentrated frown; his eyes narrowed at me and looked at me so closely I could feel his stare burn my skin. Figuratively, of course. I licked my dry lips.

"You look familiar, too. Tell me... Did you use to live here in Venice when you were a child?" I heard myself speak uncertainly with a voice so tiny it was hard to hear it properly.

"Yes, I lived here with my mother and brother, before we moved to Germany..." he replied, sounding as unsure as me.

The pieces were all starting to fit. Why he looked like him so much, why he was German who once lived in Italy before as he told me the first time we met, why I felt like he meant something to me whenever I'm with him. It's all starting to make sense. I wondered why he never told me his real name, and why he never recognised me before. He knew my name was Feli (a nickname I used to be called as as a child), so how could he not make the connection from Feli to Feliciana?

I blinked a few times in disbelief. I honestly cannot believe this. "N-no way... You can't be... I mean... How...?" I tried to come up with a more sensible thing to say but words failed me that moment.

Ludwig's expression changed; he seemed to be quite certain of something now, like he was done thinking. He smiled a bit sheepishly, "I was HRE. I didn't give out my name when I was a child since my mom told me not to tell my name to strangers." I nearly laughed. I remembered the day we first met. He was sitting down on the swing all alone, humming a tune. I walked over to him, and asked him, "Can I use the other swing with you?" He thought for a while before letting me do so. I sat down on the wooden seat and hung onto the metal chains, swinging myself back and forth. I smiled at him and asked again, "What's your name?"

He gave it some thought for a while. "HRE." he finally replied. I looked a bit confused. I scratched my head.

"HRE? What kind of name is that?" I asked disbelievingly.

"It's my name!" he said all defensively, huffing and pouting at me for being so tactless. I profusely apologised for upsetting him. He nodded.

"All right, then! I'll call you HRE!" I grinned at him and kicked a bit harder for the swing to soar higher. I never bothered to ask him what HRE meant. Such is the ignorance of a five year old Italian.

Back in the present, I cracked a smile at him, before replying, "HRE. It's you. I can't... I can't believe it. I missed you so much. How could I have not remembered?" My smile was soft and kind, and I felt tears springing to my eyes. He had no idea how much I missed him all those years ago. My brother would try and get me to go to sleep every night when I cried, patting me confortingly albeit irritably. He was my first friend and he honestly just meant a lot to me. After a few years, I learned to cope. I faced the fact that he would not come back, and if he did, he wouldn't even remember. Yet here we are, on my couch, truly meeting each other for the first time after nineteen long years.

"I missed you too, Feliciana. I did come back." his smile was wobbly from trying not to cry as well, pulling me into a hug. I remembered that he did promise me to come back, even if he only nodded that day.

He's back.

Author's Notes: Whew... This is probably one of the longest, if not THE longest oneshot I have made. This is also the first GerIta fanfic I made. For those who expected Male Germany x Male Italy, you expected wrong. I know the HRE thing is so overused and the whole HRE=Germany thing is just a theory/rumour/non-canon tragedy (what), but this is AU therefore I do what I want. Hah.

Feliciana and Ludwig are pretty oblivious for them not to notice, huh?

I portray Feliciana to be a bit more independent than Feliciano, and much more mature than him. She still retained her cheerfulness and clumsiness, though. I hope it wasn't too OOC for her? Oops...

By the way, Ludwig's mom = Female!Germania. I was supposed to mention that Fem!Ancient Rome/Roman Empire/Grandpa Rome was Feliciana's mom-figure, buuuut it wasn't really relevant so I kinda left it out.

Drat, I can't update too often. School hates me and mobile FF won't let me upload files and stuff.

By the way, it's almost July 4! Advanced Independence Day to the Americans, yeah? Expect a fix from me, this time it will be USUK and Alfred's birthday instead of Arthur's. Yeeeessss.

Oh and I just might make one for Canada/Matthew's birthday as well? July 1? Yeah.

Don't expect it to be there on the exact dates, though. I'm like Himaruya, I don't really update on time. /SHOT I'm kidding, I'm kidding.

A shoutout to my best friend, Mae, who asked me if she could read this and I said yes because this involves zero romantic physical contact (except for the hug) and she likes HRE. Yeah.