(Reader x Aph Japan and Gerita) The Gerita Project

Chapter 2

"I'm tired... are we nearly there yet?"

"Almost. And please stop kicking your legs about."

"Ah, sorry Luddy."

Germany sighed under his breath, and continued to march across the leaf-decorated pavement in a default soldier-like gait. Italy tightened his grip on Germany's well built shoulders as he attempted to re-adjust his position on his allie' s broad back. This proved too be more difficult than he once anticipated, as Germany's death grip on Italy's legs completely sealed him in the same, increasingly painful position.

"We just had an hour's worth of training, an yet you still manage to carry me all the way home, Luddy!" Italy stated, only partially concealing his frustration through his squeaky, high-pitched voice.

Another grunt escaped past Germany's lips. "You'd have just stayed there and disturbed the wildlife if I hadn't helped you get home..." He mumbled quietly.

Completely oblivious to Germany's comment, a new topic was beginning to emerge in Italy's unpredictable inner monologue:

How come he's so strong...? I bet people make 'yo mama' related jokes about him, accept about his muscles...I bet if I pierced his bicep with a pin, it would deflate like a balloon- ooh, what if I replaced the air in his muscles with helium, then-

"I-I-ita...a-ah, I-Italy, c-can you n-n-not... er..."

Suddenly diverting back into full consciousness, Italy swatted his palm away from his friend's tricep like it was a boiling kettle, crying out his apologies too rapidly for the human ear to register: "miodioimsosorryididntrealisewhatiwasdoingbutyourarmsfeelqu-"

"It's fine, Italy, just...d-don't-"

"Right, ok- yes commander!" The Italian exclaimed, with regained vigour, as he straightened his back and saluted childishly, "I, Italy Felanciano, have now de-granted access to Germany's muscles!"

"Every Gerita fan," (y/n) glanced solemnly at her watch, "time of death, 9:05."

Japan glided to a spot facing the window next to her, seeing the German stumble through the spacious driveway with an over enthusiastic Italian latched onto his back. (Y/n) turned to see a light bulb spring into illumination inside Japan's brain, noticing how it's light reflected in his soulless eyes. "What are you thinking, Kiku kun?"

He turned, his eyebrows knitted in determination, "it's official."

"What is?"

His expression swiftly switched: the corner of his soft, pink lips began to curl upwards, and the empty abyss of his eyes began to twinkle more than 'Mr. Sparkle' himself, Estonia. "Germany San and Italy kun have been 'more than an alliance and less than a union' for way too long now."

(Y/n), though she was equally enthusiastic, replied with a somewhat pessimistic tone. "But it would be inhumane to make somebody love someone..."

A brief silence crept up to them, their excitement extinguished.

"...forcefully..."

A relived sigh marked Italy's final realise from Germany's grip, and an abrupt slam of a bedroom door marked Germany's realise from Italy. The Italian was left to prise his petite feet from his tightly bound trainers (courtesy of Germany) and to ponder on Germany's sudden existential crisis.

The German in question had flung his sweat-stricken frame into the welcoming hold of his bed, his head swimming. Goosebumps had appeared all over his limbs, despite the beloved sunshine that shone through the windows of his room. The presence of the goosebumps seemed to be a complete anomalie; it was like seeing Russia being invited to a Christmas party, yet in this case, it was a little more realistic and less saddning to imagine never happening. The noise of his rapid heartbeats where ringing in Germany's ears as he slipped his slightly greasy palm between his chest bone and the mattress, feeling his heart pound against it. It was clear that he had experienced this before, yet the sensation always seemed alien to him. He had conjured thousands of excuses for it, but he knew he was just distracting himself from the omnipresent reality.

"Damn it...I've become such a softie, haven't I...?"