[fanfic] for we are one, and only one
So my bestest bestest friend in the world has been sucked into K-pop. I'm doomed. 8D Um. Anyway.
Title: for we are one, and only one
Author: sonofon
Character/Pairing: Germany, Italy, mention of England
Rating: PG
Warning: Italy not being useless.
Summary: Italy breaks precedence and defeats England in battle. Cue the 'OMGWTFBBQ' response from Germany. ...okay, no, not really.
-
There is something awfully cute, Germany realizes, in the way Italy personally kills the last of the men. When he's finally caught up to him in what was formerly known as British Somaliland, he can see that Italy's eyes are only half-open. Italy drops the gun and breathes slowly, inhaling and exhaling. He sidesteps and leans on Germany without noticing him at all. Germany makes to catch him but that isn't necessary: Italy naturally slides against him. "T-that's the last of them. They're all gone now." He's not talking to anyone. "We're safe. Where is England? I wanted to play with England some more."
"He's long gone." There are five dead bodies. Germany blinks and two more appear, as if out of nowhere.
"Oh. And these people are?" He gestures with the gun, the other gun in his other hand.
"They're not important." When Italy gets like this, it's best for Germany to keep him calm. Don't over-think. Over-thinking kills. Keep things simple. Anyone can follow simple orders.
"Germany?" says Italy. "Are they all really dead?"
"Yes."
"I'm happy. I'm glad I don't have to worry about them anymore. They're pesky, human soldiers. They can't do anything useful. They can't listen. At least they die easily." His hand moves to his shoulder-blade and rubs it in a slow circular motion. Almost lovingly.
"Italy." Germany forces himself to look at his ally.
"Ah?" Italy's gone off, crouching down on his knees. He absentmindedly pokes at a body.
"You didn't call me for help." It sounds obvious. It is obvious. And yet he feels incredibly . . . well, stupid for stating the obvious.
"No, no, I didn't."
"You went off and picked a fight with England." (It's like reading off the script of a really really bad play.)
"I can't just sit at home and eat while you're out fighting!" The answer is unexpectedly defensive. It surprises both of them. They're overlooking a sandy cliff. Italy's foot moves a little which provides the catalyst to push one human body over. It falls and it seems like a long time before a thump sound hits their ears. He and Germany stare, not down but straight ahead.
"But you didn't call me for help. Why is that?"
"I thought Germany was saying how I always call for help in the smallest things?"
"And when something-something like this happens, you don't call for help? How does your logic work, Italy? It makes no sense!"
"I didn't want to bother you," he admits.
"It never stopped you before, did it, Italy?"
(A half-gasp, a blink of an eye, but he does not waver.)
"I guess not. I guess it's because I don't want you to think I'll always need to depend on you for every little thing. I'm learning more now, I even know how to tie my boot laces! Most of the time. Sometimes. But I still do depend on you, just like I hope you depend on me! It's just that at the same time, I can take care of myself, too."
"I know you can, but . . ." Maybe he is still surprised, maybe he just didn't expect it. . . . Expect. (Nowadays, what can he expect?)
"Mm-hmm, but just the same, Germany, just the same."
"You know," Italy says, his voice a little soft, "I'd like to prove myself sometime soon. I'd like the world to know that I'm not entirely a big coward. I'm not just about art and pasta. I mean, I am, but I'm more than that. I believe I am, I know am. Because maybe I get scared a lot and maybe I'm kind of weak and maybe I'm simply not strong-but I don't want to be called a coward."
"You're not a coward. No one has the right to call you that."
"Germany," Italy suddenly says, "you see this land?" He stands and holds his arm up and out as if offering himself to Someone Up There. "All this land before us? It belongs to u-us now. I fought for it and won it from England. It won't be the last time either. I know that my army isn't the best right now and we're not capable of launching a full-scale campaign . . . but I still want to contribute! I still want to help you!
"Just imagine: we could end this war before it gets out of hand. We. You and me. We'll be our own rulers. The world will revolve and respond to us! And then, when that happens, no one can say that I got there only because of association. Because I did my duty. I fought. I killed." He places one hand on his hip and holds the other in salute to Germany. "I lied. I cheated. I stole. But at the same time, I felt. I touched. I even loved. Do you know, Germany?"
"Y-you've always been there for me, Italy, I-"
"It's okay." He smiles like he does when he says something silly or inconsequential. It's his usual smile. But there is blood caked in his hands and there is blood splattered on his uniform. It's not his blood, but blood is blood. It doesn't suit his face; Germany grimaces on reflex. "I did this just as much for myself as I did for the both of us. The war won't last long. It can't possibly! We're so strong together and I'll always be with you, Germany. Germany?"
"Yes?"
When Italy smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkle. His voice, once a quiet waver, gains certainty. "I'm going to hold my own. I'll have to do with what I have, my boss says. And in the mean time, I'll get stronger. I swear it!"
"I know you will."
"You know, I've always been meaning to show you around. Have you been to Ethiopia before, Germany? When all of our enemies are gone, I'd like to take you there. It's so pretty with the waterfalls and hot springs. Granted, they're volcanic, but still! It's pretty here, of course, but Ethiopia has always been very beautiful. I mean, I love coming down south, and I just know you'd love it, too." He turns back. "Wouldn't that be nice?" he continues. "I'll show you around, and we'll be together for always. We won't ever have to give each other up." He pauses. "Hey. Will you promise me something? Let's not have to be forced to do that? That'd be a bad idea, don't you think? We'll look at each other in the eye and we'll know. Just like that. Now and forever."
Germany takes Italy's hand in his. The look in Italy's eyes is something he can't exactly place but which he is aware of just the same. He has a history with Italy. That can't be forgotten. You can't forget the past. And it doesn't matter what you say or do in the effort to erase it. No matter how many bodies and battles are buried on top, you just can't. There have been times when Germany looked at Italy and remembered. But it was for a brief moment and afterward he is never quite sure what he just remembered. A wasted moment. A pity. But he can't dwell on it. (Germans, anyhow, do not dwell on the past. They move on as if nothing ever happened. Just the same, just the same.)
When Italy squeezes his hand, Germany feels the calluses on his palms and the roughs in the space between his fingers. They're standing on top of a sandy cliff, hand-in-hand, and Germany suddenly feels nostalgic. He says, "Yes, I promise, Italy. I promise I won't ever leave you."
"Good," says Italy without missing a beat. Then he adds: "You'll be returning to Europe soon, won't you?"
"I'm sorry I can't stay."
"It's all right. I've only a few finalizations to deal with . . . you know how it is. Then I'll come up north and rejoin you." He's still holding onto Germany's hand. "Everything will go splendidly from there, won't it?"
"That's right," he says, and takes a deep breath, "that's right."
-
notes:
- Italy was not entirely useless during WWII. The Royal Italian Army, however, only celebrated a few victories during the war. As Italy says, the country was not prepared for the all-out war. So they had to make do with small-scaled, aggressively-planned campaigns that won them such territories as British Somaliland.
- I did not mention Japan as being an ally because at the time of this fic (June 1940), the Axis powers had not yet been formed. That came in September 1940. While negotiations towards their subsequent alliance may very well have occurred at this point in time, I did not take the liberty in assuming so.