Here I Am

Chapter 2

Germany jumped up when he heard the sound of glass shattering.

He turned his head to the source of the noise. There stood a tall, lean man. He had blonde hair and his eyes almost seemed magenta. Even from that distance he could faintly make out a scar on his cheek, that seemed to curl when he smiled. Germany's gaze didn't linger long there, despite the fact that this male looked a scary lot like himself, because in his arms was a limp Italy. The source of the sound was a brown shopping back, now stained with what Germany knew was pasta sauce. 

"Italy!" Germany shouted. He immediately got up, and began sprinting in his direction. The person holding him had just whispered something in his ear, and met Germany's eyes for a split second. Germany's stomach churned, and he drew his knife from his side. He couldn't throw it, for risk of hitting Italy. So he needed to get in close proximity, something the male didn't seem to want to allow.

He threw Italy over his shoulder, waved at Germany with two fingers, and winked. Then began the chase. One might think that because the male had Italy on his shoulders he wouldn't be able to run fast, but Germany knew Italy's light weight. It probably would've surprised this male too, but he didn't seem to care about it.

At that moment, Germany was mad. No, infuriated. He had first considered this to be the work of one of the Allies, disguised as himself. He hadn't completely ruled out the idea, but that feeling in his gut kept telling him otherwise. But who else could have a motive to grab up Italy like that? 

"Get back here!" Germany shouted, tightening his grip on his dagger hilt and almost considering throwing it, but every time he did, the worry of accidentally hitting Italy grasped him, and he stopped himself. The chase seemed to last forever, Germany chasing him around corners and almost loosing him about four times. Finally, after rounding another corner, Germany couldn't see them.

He looked around frantically, trying to spot them. The blonde abductor and his red-headed Italian. He saw a batch of red hair near him and grabbed the person's shoulder, but when the male turned around, he saw it wasn't Italy. He pushed the person away and walked a little further, sweeping his eyes around in a last frantic search for Feliciano. No sign of him.

"Italy!" He shouted to the top of his lungs. No response.

"Italy." He said, quieter this time. This time he didn't expect a response, but his heart still ached when it didn't come. 

He didn't waste another second. He left the area and ran, right back to his house. He ran as fast as his feet would carry him and ignored the burning in his legs. He didn't stop running until he came to the doorstep, upon which he flung the door open. Japan, who was sitting on the couch, jumped and dropped his notebook and pencil which were in his hands. He swallowed, shaking off the shock, putting the items beside him, and then standing. "Germany," he said, looking him up and down. "Is everything alright?" 

Germany didn't respond right away. He stomped into the kitchen, swung open the fridge, and grabbed a bear. He opened it and took a swig, before staring down Japan. "No." He spat. "Italy. He... Someone took him. I couldn't catch them. But if that person thinks I'm gonna give up, by hell no I'm not." 

Japan's eyes widened, before he approached Germany a little more. "Italy's gone? Wh--"

"Ja, Italy's gone, gott verdammt!" Germany shouted, slamming the beer down onto the counter. Japan's eye twitched, but he continued like he hadn't interrupted him, "What did the person who took him rook like?" 

"He..." Germany paused, staring at the beer bottle. He could see a unclear reflection of himself in it. He knew he looked infuriated, but the worry lines probably weren't hidden very well. His blue eyes, which before Italy was taken were droopy and sleepy, now wide and alert. He ran his hand through his hair, knowing there was probably a little dirt in the back from him lying down. "He looked like me." 

"What?" Japan arched a brow.

"He looked like me. Except, his eyes were pink. A... More like magenta. Probably contacts, but I couldn't really tell from the distance... And..." He moved a hand to lightly touch his cheek, exactly where the male's scar had been. "And he had a scar right here." 

Japan took a breath and convinced Germany to sit down at the couch. Japan pushed away his items and turned his full attention to Germany. "Tell me what happened. In detail, this time."

So Germany did. He started when Italy and him had left training, not telling him about Italy collapsing. Told him how he brought him to the place where they'd first become allies, and how they just hung out. He didn't tell him about their exchange of names, and then was able to tell the rest without having to skip over anything. 

When he was done, Japan nodded. "Hai, we should start making posters. Ask around, and try to rearn as much as possible about this person."

Germany didn't want to go to sleep yet. He was still wide awake, so he began the posters right then. He couldn't draw, so he had Japan do the pictures. Germany wrote down the information, and wrote with incredible speed. The quicker the posters were done, the quicker they could learn more about the abductor, and the quicker he could get Italy back. 

"The writing needs to be legible, Doitsu." Japan told him at one point, when he glanced over at his writing. All that made Germany do was go back over it and try to make it look better without actually erasing. Not slowing down, either.

Germany's mind was stuck on the person who had taken Italy. Winking at him, it sent a tremor through his body. It was like his reflection had winked at him. A reflection with a disturbing and malicious aura. Then he thought of that reflection with Italy in his hands. The pencil he was holding snapped into two pieces from him holding it too tight. Japan looked over and his lips curled slightly into a frown. "I'll get you another pencil." 

Germany tossed the pencil remnants aside and buried his head in his hands. The darkness only brought an image of Italy's smiling and laughing face, making water gather behind the German's eyes. He refused to shed tears. Not in front of Japan, at least.