This fanfic is called And It All Comes Back to the Old Deck Scrubber, and it is not mine. Hetalia fans, tell me what you think, especially CHIZZKY. This is also only the first chapter, apparently, although IMO, it would work as a oneshot. So here is it, in all it's messy glory:
"I'll wait for you, with plenty of sweets… Let's be sure we see each other again… right? I promise I'll wait! I'll wait forever! I'll wait, I'll wait, and I'll wait…"
The boy with the blond hair turned and started walking in the other direction away from the maid in the dress.
"Um, stay healthy! And don't get hurt… and…" Italy stared as he sighed dreamily into the ocean deep, bright blue sparkling eyes.
"AHH? I'M A BOY? Um… What should I do Hungary…"
"Isn't this ironic," the older girl giggled cheerfully and reassuringly to the smaller nation. "I had a very similar experience too… But either way, it doesn't matter, as gender can't break love."
"Really?" North Italy clutched a mop to himself. "I suppose so," he said, sighing happily in a carefree manner.
"THE WAR ENDED! NEWS HAS ARRIVED!"
"Hm? Alright, let's hear it," Austria said as his fingers fidgeted nervously around his eyeglasses.
"Ah…"North Italy stumbled across, trying to find Austria to ask something before he stopped, deciding to eavesdrop curiously behind a brick wall.
"It's about Holy Roman…"
"Eh?" Italy mumbled, heart fluttering up high in the air, hoping, just hoping that somehow, waiting this long of a time paid itself off.
"Ah! Please don't hit me, I'll do anything! Please!"
He trembled with fight, shaking the wooden box that claimed to contain tomatoes. "Please! I'll do anything! Uh, uh, at least let me eat some delicious pasta before I die!" The northern part of Italy wailed in a frightened manner, panicking terribly as he flailed his arms around.
Face to face. The ocean deep, bright blue sparkling eyes.
"Oh, if you know Grandpa Rome, you can't be bad! Sorry, I mistook you for your appearance –AH! I'M SORRY!"
North Italy didn't know any better than a scared mouse for many things. But, either eating too much pasta sauce had the ability to get into your brain or…
The way this new country shook his shoulders… felt familiar.
"Eh? Why won't you join with me to form the great new Roman Empire?"
"Italy! Stop fooling around! This is serious!"
"Italy! What are you doing fooling around in Hungary's dress? I'm trying to talk seriously here!"
"Eh? Ah, yeah Germany, I'm listening." Italy smiled brightly and a little stupidly, annoying the blond man once again. "Hey, how about we eat some passtaaa?" The reddish brown haired boy asked in a singsong voice, going completely off topic once again.
Italy kept his happy, naïve look plastered onto his face as Germany inspected him all over, as if he was capable of tricking those to bend under his will.
"Only this once." Germany curtly replied, before walking quickly towards his house as Italy raced happily followed by Japan.
"Veeee! If only you can treat us and relax like this more often, Germany!" Italy sang in a lazy manner, a slight sparkle seen in his eyes as he stared back at Germany's slightly blushing, but yet serious face.
Holy Roman… Empire?
North Italy quickly shook his head fiercely. It was true that when he visited Germany's house before, it was in the same location as Holy Roman's, but land was often switched between many countries, and Italy threw that thought out of his head long ago.
"I guess I'll start making the pasta now!"
"I suppose so," Germany sighed heavily, before his eyes flashed back and yelped as a caution. "Be careful of the flour! It's put at an odd angle –"
White powder covered Italy's hair and body like a snowman built in fresh snow.
"Wah! I'm sorry! I promise I'll clean it up! I promise!"
Shaking out of the soft powdery flour, Italy raced as if he was retreating from England, reaching hastily towards the closet as he felt his hands clutch tightly on a –
Italy dropped the wooden handle, letting it fall onto the ground with a huge clang before he took sense of what was happening and picked up the scrubber, using it to sweep the flour onto the dustpan.
"Ah… Before you leave…"
"Here!" The small maid quickly, and shyly pushed out the broom towards the boy dressed in fancy attire.
"A… deck scrubber…? Ah… I understand now!"
"Yeah… and… if you don't mind… whenever you see this or hold it… I hope you'll always think of me."
"I'm sorry! I'm cleaning it up as quickly as possible!"
"Ah… Just get done with it fast."
The northern half of the Italian country gulped dryly, glancing at the deck scrubber nervously, before he dropped his carefree attitude and looked at Germany's sparkling sea blue eyes. The ocean deep, bright blue sparkling eyes.
"C-Can you t-tell me… how you got this deck scrubber? I-I thought it was cool! I'd really like one myself!" Italy covered up before he caught suspicious glances towards him.
"Well… I just remember it was there from as far back as I remembered. I wanted to throw it out, but I couldn't." The blond man said sternly, before he focused his attention to what Italy was doing. "Are you done cooking yet?"
Maybe it was the lack of food that caused the dizziness; maybe it was the sudden flood of memories. But for whatever reason, his mind could only think of one thing in its slightly fuzzed up, bogus state.
The boy who stole his first kiss.
"There… and it's done! Now some seasonings, and wah… It looks so yummy… Germany! Japan! I'm done!" Saliva prodded his mouth, as he hurriedly set up the plates and the pasta up on the dining table while humming, trying to unlace the apron he had on.
"Huh, and yet you seem so much more dedicated in this than your training…"
"Thank you, this is always my favourite among all the other Western dishes."
"Eh? Thank you, Japan!" Italy said cheerfully. "I bet it even rivals big brother France's cooking now, heh!"
"I-Italy…" The blond commander stopped all of the sudden seeing Italy next to the deck scrubber; his brain starting to pound harshly as it formed mangled images of two small children.
"Take of the apron, it's starting to resemble more of a dress."
"Eh? But it doesn't even have frills! Oh well then…"
"Just… take it off and eat. And while you're at it, please stash away the deck scrubber. Please." Germany sighed, massaging his head tiredly. "I've had enough with seeing odd images of human beings."
"Ah? Are they cute?" Italy said curiously, cocking his head suddenly as he split a wide grin.
"If you're having headaches with images, it's best to tell me what they look like, as it could mean many things," Japan said worriedly, immediately stacking up supernatural manga books.
"One of them… I supposed looked like a small version of me," Germany said thoughtfully as he started to fork some cheesy pasta into his mouth.
Italy stopped midway in eating.
"Another one of them… was like some cute girl in a maid's outfit. I think she had the same hairstyle as you, Italy." The blond man concluded curiously before he dismissed the whole thing, as if he was only telling them what he saw to entertain them, and that he, himself didn't care much for it.
North Italy dropped his fork.