Unforgotten - RomaCan

1 - Meetings Are A Mess

I sat, bored out of my mind, in an Allies meeting, once again being forgotten. For most, there were five people in this room. For me, there were six. And I was number six. The ignored one.

"Dudes, how will we ever find out what they're planning if no one can actually spy well?" America yelled, so loud that everyone in the world could hear him (probably even the Axis). "Britain, bro, you're supposed to have that spy dude, double o nine or something! Why aren't you a good spy?"

"Because he's a secret agent, not a spy! And its double o seven. And James Bond hasn't been written yet, so suck on that, wanker." I sighed at the pair's bickering. I have to sit through this day after day.

"Well why can't we just send Canada?" I perk up at the mention of my name. A rare occurrence, I assure you.

"Who?" Such a familiar chorus follows France's question.

"He has been sitting here all this time, and no one has acknowledged him. He's the perfect spy." Was he... Was he volunteering me for one of the most important tasks of the war? This might just give me enough recognition to last till next week.

"Sure. I'm up for it." I said, raising my voice slightly so that everyone could hear me.

"Great! You start tomorrow, aru."

Tomorrow couldn't come slower. Honestly, I didn't really care about the work, I just wanted a bit of recognition from the other nations.

 I was staying in England - we all were - so it took a ferry and a long car journey to get to the Axis headquarters in Germany.

When I reached Berlin, I started to panic. What if I do something wrong? What if, for once in my life, I'm actually noticed, but it's because I screwed up? The "what ifs" spiralled through my head as I made my way into the building.

I took a deep breath before entering the meeting room. Everything will turn out fine, we'll win the war, and I will hopefully get some credit for this, making me noticed. It sounds really selfish, but is a bit of recognition too much to ask for?

I open the door and am immediately greeted (not literally) by Germany yelling at an albino dancing on the table and singing at the top of his voic- never mind he can go louder. How didn't I hear him before entering the room?

I take a seat at the back of the room, still taking precautions, when a person who looks like Italy, but not Italy comes over and sits next to me.

I start to panic when he says "sup" to me.

"Ummm... Hi?" I reply nervously.

"The names Romano, or Italy to no one."

Oh god, he introduced himself, what do I say? I can't just say Canada!

"I really don't want to be here. Or in the entire war. Fratello makes weird friends and drags me into stuff,"  he carries on, "and bastardo ass Spain was to busy arguing with himself to get me out of this mess."

"Same. I hated being part of the British Empire. And everything else." I blurt out.

"Ah ha! I knew it! Don't worry, leak all the plans you like. As much as I love my brother, he's an idiot and his potato bastard needs to stop starting wars. This is the second one in a few years." I don't question his knowledge on history, but instead, introduce myself.

"I'm Canada by the way, not America." I nearly whisper.

"Yeah, I see the resemblance. I'm sometimes called Italy by accident, even though I'm still Italy... And my natural face is a scowl." wow, I never thought I'd find someone with a similar problem.

"Romano, who're you talking to~?" Italy asks.

"Uhhh no one? My pet tomato? The chair?"

"Ve~ okay, makes sense." he turns back to annoying Germany.

"Here's the copy of the plans," Romano slides a folder that I didn't even realize he had into my hands, "take them and get out before they get too suspicious."

"But-" he presses a finger to my lips.

"No buts. I want to loose this war. It may be bad for my economy, but I'm poor anyway, what's a few less euros? Its better for the world that way. Now go." I felt guilty leaving him. He was a nice guy, despite calling everyone a bastard, and really didn't want to be in the war.

After traveling back to London, I show everyone the plans. When I opened the folder, a slip of paper fell out. It read:

Write to me if you get time - [insert random italian address here]

Romano

I smile and insert the note into my pocket.

What a flirt.