Part Time Waiter, Full Time Country

Chapter 10- Germany

Feliciano, or Italy I suppose is more correct, trails off. Prussia is still smirking about the boyfriend thing, and Austria is looking at Italy with a peculiar expression. The table grows silent again, as the rest of us work on finishing our pasta. I glance over and see that Italy has a spot of pasta sauce on his shirt. Again.

I smile, and reach over with my napkin to wipe it off. He looks down when I start rubbing it, and looks embarrassed about getting sauce on himself again. Prussia stifles a laugh from across the table, and Austria smiles. Italy and I both stare at Austria. He never smiles. Why is he smiling?

He notices our confusion, and immediately turns his smile back into his usual disapproving frown. Italy and I stare for a moment more, then finish our dinner.

Finally, all of us are finished, and Italy offers to clear the dishes. Austria tells him it is fine, and that he and Prussia will do it. Prussia whines, but stands up and takes our plates anyway. As he walks out, he once again complements Italy's cooking. Italy smiles, and thanks him again. Then Italy and I are left alone in the dining room. We both sit in awkward silence for a few moments, until he stands up. "Well, I should be getting home. It is getting late." I glance at the clock, and see that it is already nine o'clock. I stand up as well, and offer to walk him home. He looks thoughtful for a moment, then says he can walk home fine.

I lead him back into the entryway, and hand him his coat. As we are saying goodbye, Austria steps in. "Um, Italy, could I have a word with you? Alone?" he says, gesturing toward the living room. Italy looks scared, and glances at me, almost begging me to help him. I shrug, and look at Austria. "What for?" I ask him. He looks nervous, and wrings his thin, musician's hands. "Um, I have to tell him something." He says. Italy looks a bit calmer. He was probably worried the "Private conversation" had something to do with his childhood, and might end badly. He shrugs his shoulder, and says sure. I watch as he follows Austria into the living room, and Austria closes and locks the door behind them. I wait in the hallway for a while, until it becomes obvious that it will be a long conversation. Then I head into the kitchen and help Prussia with the dishes. He is very (and unusually) quiet while we work, seemingly thinking very deeply about something. Finally, as he dries the last of the wine glasses, he looks at me.

"West, do you remember when you were a teenager, and you asked me why you couldn't remember your childhood like the other countries?"

I nod, remembering the conversation in question. "Ja, what about it?" I ask. "Well, I wasn't completely truthful." He replies. I wrinkle my eyebrows. "You said I was injured and got amnesia." I say, wondering how that could be a lie, when I really do not remember my past. "Well, I didn't tell you HOW you got injured, nor who you were before." He replies, staring off into space.

I look at him expectantly, waiting for the rest of the story. He continues staring off into space, his red eyes dancing through the air, never really landing on any one object. Finally, I clear my throat. "Bruder, I would appreciate it if you would tell me." I say, jolting him back to reality. "Oh! Right!" He exclaims, and launches into a story.

"Well, you were really young when you lost your memory. Only a few centuries old. Well, really you were older than me, but I grew up quicker, so you looked younger. Anyway, you got caught up in a bloody war with some older countries like France and Spain, and you had to leave your home to go fight. You lived with Austria at the time. So you went off to war, and fought valiantly for a very long time. But eventually, France defeated you. He injured you very badly, and was about to kill you when your awesome bruder stepped in and saved your butt." He pauses, smiling proudly. I nod, and gesture for him to continue. "Anyway, I saved you, and took you home. I took care of you, nursed you back to health, and thought everything would be good. But then I started to notice that it hurt you to remember your past. You would sit down on the ground and clutch your head whenever someone asked you a question about it. So after a few months of trying everything anyone could think of to make your head stop hurting, I finally decided that it would be better for you if you just didn't remember your past at all. I found a potion, as they called it back then, that would make you forget your past. I gave it to you, and sure enough, the next day, the headaches were gone, and so were your memories."

I stand stock still, slightly shocked. Prussia looks at me, and wrinkles his eyebrows. "West?" He queries, his voice quivering worriedly. I stare at him, trying to work through what he said. As he was talking, images and vague snatches of conversations had begun floating through my head. Things which were undeniably real, but which I don't remember ever doing.

I gulp, as more images flash through my head. A beautiful day, sitting on a hilltop, painting a picture. A terrible battle, with people, my people, dying around me. A calm day, sitting outside watching the clouds drift by. And one little girl. A little girl in white and green, with bright copper hair the same colour as Italy's, and one unruly curl sticking up on the left side.

I stumble over to the kitchen table, and collapse into a chair, my head still whirling. Now, my memory is full of images of a little... girl? Dressed like a maid, smiling at me while she taught me to paint, meowing adorably while wearing cat ears and a tail, holding hands as we walked through a field. And one image that breaks my heart. The little girl, tears in her eyes, standing in the middle of the road, watching as I walk away from her.

I can feel tears appearing in my eyes, and wipe them away. I don't want Prussia to see me cry. He may be my younger brother (Which I will have to seriously talk with him about, since he always told me he was older), but I still don't want him to see me cry.

Prussia is still looking at me, obviously worried, and I look up at him. "So, you have told me what happened, but you have not yet told me who I was." I state, and he sighs, glad that I am alright. I suppose I must have looked pretty out of it for a few moments while those thoughts and images were flashing through my mind.

"Right!" He exclaims. "You were the Holy Roman Empire. Well, technically the Holy Roman Empire of the German Nations, but even then, no one used the whole name." I nod. "I decided to give you a new name after you lost your memories, to try to keep from bringing them back. I chose Germany as a tribute to Großvater (Grandfather) Germania." I nod again, then stand up. "Thank you for telling me." I say, walking over to the sink.

I glance at the dishes, now clean, and then turn to Prussia. "We had better put these away." I say, and he looks disappointed. "Aw, come on West, I just told you the history of your childhood, and all you care about is putting dishes away?" I nod. "Ja. We can talk more once the work is done." I say, and he huffs. "Fine." He grumbles, and walks over to help put the dishes away.

We finish the dishes, then sit down at the kitchen table. "So, what do you think of your past?" Prussia asks, his usual self-assured grin on his face. "I don't know what to think. I got some of the memories back, but not all of them. Not by any means. I can't remember most of my childhood. I can remember a few snatches of conversation, and a few people's faces, but nothing more specific than that." He looks crestfallen, but brightens back up almost immediately.

"Do you remember your little sweetheart?" he asks, a sly grin on his face. "My what?" I ask, confused. "The little "girl" you had like, a major crush on for centuries." He puts a sort of strange emphasis on the word girl. It makes me wonder if I should be remembering something I'm not. "Um, I remember a little girl, with a little green and white maid's outfit, and bright copper hair like Feliciano's." I say, and Prussia's sly smile gets wider. "Haha! Do you remember her name?" He asks. I wrack my brain, but hard as I try, can't come up with a name. "No." I reply, slightly sad. If I liked her as much as Prussia says, I should at least know her name.

"Hah! Just you wait!" Prussia exclaims. "If Austria is telling Italy what I think he is telling Italy, you are in for a big surprise!" I wrinkle my eyebrows again. "What do you mean?" I ask. "Oh, just you wait!" He smiles widely at me. Much too widely for my comfort. I really hope this isn't going to ruin my relationship with Italy.