Here I Am

Chapter 1

"Here I am!" 

Italy had shouted those words and then jumped onto Germany's back, wrapping his arms around his neck to keep his balance. The Italian had convinced the German to play hide in seek before they left for training, and Italy was supposed to be the one hiding, but he gave up to sneak up on the German like he had just done. His reward was a flustered face and the German telling him to get off. 

Once Italy slid off, he smiled up at the intimidating male, who seemed to be trying to look angry. Despite this, Germany let a smile creep onto his lips. Italy laughed, and then they went to the door to leave for training. Italy slipping on one of Germany's spare coats. 

Training went as usual. Germany yelled at him, Italy still couldn't run. Not unless he was terrified for his life or pasta was involved. Germany's smile from earlier was no where to be seen among his strict training face. His blue eyes narrowed as he didn't keep his eyes off Italy's progress. 

"Germany," Italy complained. "Can't we stop now?" He was exhausted. He'd been pushed a little past his normal limit whenever Germany trained him. He knew Germany was just trying to make him stronger, but didn't even the big and stronger countries get breaks too?

"Nein." Germany replied, and upon hearing the tone in his voice, Italy knew there was no deterring him from his decision. "You keep going."

So he did. It wasn't even an hour, though, when Italy collapsed during a lap. He felt fine, but all of a sudden, out of no where, he began feeling light headed. Then, he collapsed onto his side in the dirt. He started ahead of him and saw a blurry figure running towards him. The familiar voice of Germany shouting his name, over and over. 

For a moment, he couldn't think straight. Nothing registered quite right. Then, when he was able to think remotely straight again, he was lying on his back. Germany was knelt down next to him, hovering over him. His features were panicked. He shook his shoulders twice. "Italy! Italy, snap out of it!" He shouted. His blonde hair was falling over his face, mostly shadowed, and his blue eyes stuck out in those shadows. So much so, Italy wondered if they had tears in them.

"Germany," Italy mumbled. Germany's face flushed with relief. "Mein gott, Italy... You scared me half to death." The German whispered. He helped Italy sit up, putting the back of his hand on his forehead to check for a possible fever. There was none.

"Are we... Done with training?" Italy mumbled with a lazy smile. Germany's lips curled into a similar smile to the one he had that morning, but this one was more sad. 

"Ja, Italy. We're done with training."

After Italy was feeling up to it, they began walking. Germany wondered if Italy just needed to call it quits for the day, but he didn't say he needed to. The Italian seemed happy that they were just walking through town, spending time as allies and friends. 

"Germany." Italy said, and when he didn't say anything else, it occurred to Germany he was wanting to know if he had his attention.

"Ja, Italy?"

"Can I take you somewhere nice?"

Germany's brow arched in confusion. He wanted to pester Italy about what he meant, but Italy seemed eager to want to go, and not to say much more. Germany thought it over for another minute, before he nodded. Italy yelled in happiness and grabbed Germany's hand and started running. It surprised Germany, because he didn't run as near as fast as that when he was in training. 

Of course, Italy didn't last long. He had to eventually slow down from exhaustion but still kept a hold of Germany's hand and kept tugging along. Finally, when they came to a clearing, Italy stopped and let go of Germany's hand. It was late afternoon, so it was past the heat of the day, and the small breeze was just enough to keep them cool whenever it decided to pass. 

"Well... This place is nice..." Germany said. He didn't see anything special about it, except a small feeling in his gut that he'd been there before. 

"It's where we became friends, remember?" Italy shouted, plopping his small frame down in the grass. He laid down and rested his hands behind his head after a stretch in that similar position.

Germany remembered now, and felt a twinge of guilt for forgetting, but yet the Italian remembered. The Italian could seem so idiotic sometimes, so childish, but... He forgot that Italy could have his moments. 

Disregarding the thoughts he sat down beside Italy. They watched the view in silence for a while, so long that darkness had already started threatening to tint the sky, before Italy spoke up again.

"I want to tell you something, Germany."

Germany glanced over at Italy, who had just sat up. "Ja?"

"My name."

"Your name is Italy."

"No, no. My other name."

Germany stared at Italy for a minute. His human name. That was a name that when given, it was a symbol of trust. At least in some countries eyes. In Germany's, it was a sign that Italy truly did trust him, and he expected the same in return. Italy seemed to be waiting, and Germany once again realized he was waiting for a kind of confirmation that he'd heard and wanted to proceed. Germany nodded. 

Italy held out his hand. "Feliciano."

Germany shook his hand. "Ludwig."

Italy smiled. "Luddy."

Germany furrowed his brows. "Don't call me that."

"You could call me Feli, though. Then could I call you Luddy."

"Nein."

They smiled at each other, and began to laugh. At what, they weren't sure. Italy laughed longer than Germany did, but they still laughed. Once that subsided they continued to sit in silence for a while. Then, as the first stars began appearing in the sky, Italy stood up and stretched. "I'm going to go get some more pasta sauce, and then we can go home."

Germany grunted in response, and Italy was on his way. He walked into the store and bought a few brands of pasta sauce, before checking out. He helped put the items in a brown bag, which had to be layered with another brown bag, because the cashier said if he didn't they might break easier. Italy said he'd be super careful, and left the store.

He'd walked far enough to where he could see Germany lying down. He smiled to himself, but before he could take another step, a thick arm wrapped around his chest and a large hand pressed itself against his mouth and over his nose. Italy's eyes widened, his small frame being held in place from whoever was behind him. He struggled, and whenever he tried to say anything it came out in inaudible muffles. The person behind him didn't seem keen on letting him breathe, so Italy ran out of breath quickly. Dots danced in his vision, and he dropped the brown bag. The last thing he heard before he blacked out was the shattering of the sauce bottles, and the male's -- because it was unmistakably male's -- voice whisper against his ear. Three words.

"Here I am."