Italy's Secrets (Discontinued)

The Pain I Feel

Veneziano's POV

The world around me was dark, my footfalls heavy against the rain-dampened earth. My uniform clung to me as I traipsed through the forest, marching over roots and brush aimlessly. Somewhere behind me was the mansion that served as home for my allies and myself. The moon's faint light flickered through treetops, guiding my every step.

I saw the silvery light faintly through misty eyes. A breeze ran through the wood, coaxing the silent skeletal trees into a cacophony of creaks and clatters. A steady dripping was heard from the few leaves clinging to long, chilled branches, and my tears matched the pace - slowly and steadily rolling down my slightly rosy cheeks.

The night was almost bitterly cold, teasing of frost and snow in the coming days. I looked up as I heard a branch crack within the area, my hand numbly tightening around the handle of my knife.

My eyes skimmed the dark area before I trudged on. The disturbance was likely just an animal, perhaps a fox sniffing around for something to take home for dinner. At the thought of dinner, my stomach rumbled and began to ache slightly.

'Not now,' I mentally berated myself, chewing on the inside of my cheek to fool myself.

I felt another wintry breeze and looked up through the bare branches of the trees to find the moon just to my left. My frown deepened and my pace quickened as I made my way through the dense trees. My skin was beginning to itch, not from the cold but from the thought that someone might be watching me.

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My fingers grazed over the blade of my knife as I perched high in the branches of a great oak tree, my eyes glazed as I looked up to the moon, watching the passage of time with disinterest. I had been in the forest for nearly two hours already but felt no improvement in my mood.

Without hesitation, my mind had turned to Holy Rome. Teeth grit against the bitter sobs, I cried, salty droplets streaking my skin as they cascaded down my face. I thought of Holy Rome looking at these same stars centuries prior to this moment, and a familiar ache settled over my heart.

'Why did you have to leave, amore mio*?' I wondered absently, hand tightening once more around the frigid metal of my knife.

The speed of the wind increased, whipping at my hair and uniform now and chilling my skin. My jacket hung off the branch, barely secured beneath my folded leg, not that I minded any. I would be just as cold wearing it thanks to the chill in my heart.

Without another thought, no moment of hesitation or reminder of those I still had, I pressed the blade to the bare skin of my forearm. Warmth took over instantaneously as blood beaded from the wound. My tears continued to spill, comingling with the maroon liquid and turning it to a duller red as it dripped to the forest floor far below me.

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"-ly?"

I stirred, feeling the ache of an uncomfortable sleeping position. Cool sunlight peered down upon my face, lighting the area in a pale golden hue. 'Must be nearly noon...' I thought, stretching listlessly.

"Italy?!" A rough voice startled me into full alertness immediately. My fingers dug into the fabric of my jacket as I clutched my knife, wide eyes searching the area for the source of the near-sounding voice.

"Italy where are you?!"

"Germany?" I murmured as the thick accent registered in my hazy mind. I quickly tugged on my jacket and climbed from the tree, my knife still in one hand and creating small tears in the fabric. My cheeks felt tacky and stiff with my dried tears, and my hand was shaking slightly at the thought of being found out. I shouldn't have stayed out as long as I did last night. I don't even remember falling asleep!

I saw a flash of army green within the dusky grey and evergreen forest and moved towards it sluggishly by a few paces, just enough that he would hear me. "Over here!" My voice was slightly hoarse and weary.

In a few moments, the slightly younger - but much stronger - nation stood before me, his azure gaze stern as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Where have you been, Italy? Japan and I have been looking for you the whole morning."

With the anger in Germany's tone and posture, it was not hard for me to tremble as I thought up a lie. "I-I went for a walk because I couldn't sleep, a-and then this scary wolf chased me up a tree, and I was too scared to come back down until I heard you, Germany, because I knew you could keep me safe from anymore mean wolves," I answered in a bit of a rush, hoping that my bedraggled appearance and slightly bloodied knife might be enough for Germany to believe me.

He scrutinized me for a few long moments before letting out a sigh. "Come with me, Italy. You have the training to do."

I nodded and fell into line behind Germany, sheathing my knife to run a finger over the marks hiding beneath my jacket.

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Romano's POV

I squinted up at the brilliant sun in an effort to judge the time. It was a warm day today, directly in contrast with the chilly, damp weather that had plagued the countryside for close to two weeks. I longed to roll up my sleeves as I worked checking the tomato plants for any late fruits, but I could feel the pressure of bruises and didn't want to worry the overly exuberant tomato bastard.

Besides, they weren't my fault, and they would fade by tonight when Spagna* invaded my room tonight to 'fight the chill' that, hopefully, would not cling in the air. The sound of footsteps over the rough soil punctured the silence, and I whipped my head around to see Spain there, a look of concern on his face.

"Romano," he began, and I instantly knew something was amiss. It wasn't often he used my full name. "Italy called. He said he needs you at Germany's."

I grit my teeth slightly. My younger brother always caused a lot of trouble for me. I stood and brushed my hands off on my pants, trying not to wince when I accidentally hit my forearm against my thigh.

"What does he need me for?" I asked harshly.

Spain shrugged, rolling his shoulders in a lazy way. "I don't have a clue, Roma. He wouldn't tell me."

I rolled my eyes. "Stupid fratello," I muttered under my breath as I began the trek to the house, Spain trailing at my heels. "Does he want me to stay with that potato bastard?"

"Not a clue. You should ask him. He's still on the phone I think... unless Alemania* made him hang up."

I rolled my eyes again. "Stupid tomato bastard," I huffed, making my way to the phone once I was inside. A simple glare at Spagna caused him to make himself scarce as I picked up the receiver.

"Che cosa*?" I snapped into the phone, causing mio fratello to whimper.

"Roma... please come over. Germany is scaring me again and I don't want him to find out." My younger brother's voice trembled, and his tone was hushed. Perhaps the German was in the room with him, guarding him as usual.

I sighed softly. It hurt me to know mio fratello was in pain, it really did, but I didn't know how much help I would be. Still, it wasn't like he trusted anyone else with this sort of thing. I nodded, forgetting he couldn't see it.

"Sì, I'll come to the macho potato's house, but only for you," I muttered, trying not to seem like I was looking forward to seeing him again.

"And you'll stay a few days?" Veneziano asked hopefully, seeming a little less distraught.

"Sì," I repeated. "I'll be there in about two hours, okay? Just stay in your room and don't do anything stupid."

"Okay, fratello," he answered before hanging up. I let out a sigh as I set the receiver back on its base, then trudged upstairs to pack and have Spain get his personal plane ready.

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*amore mio - my love
*Spagna - Spain
*Alemania - Germany
*Che cosa? - What?