You Only Have One Shot [Hetalia One-shots]

His Lie in April

[A/N: haha get it do you get the title please tell me that anime is still relevant—]
[A/N/N: No this isn't a YLIA one-shot this is still Hetalia]
[A/N/N/N: Part 2 to Ti Amo btw]

It came as a startle— for Feliciano at least.

He hadn't noticed it before, but now that he had, it was impossible to look away from it. There was the tiniest scar on Germany's chin, silvery and nearly invisible on his pale skin. It ran along from the edge of his lip to the middle; it looked so much like—

No.

That was the same damn scar Holy Rome had.

Without giving it much thought, Italy rose from his seat suddenly and quickly, startling the other countries. He needed to see it closer; he just had to. There was no way that he had spent his entire life looking for the love of his life when he had just been standing there, literally.

"Italy, what are you—?" Germany asked ever so innocently, immediately being uncharacteristically cut off by the man he had addressed.

"Shut up for a moment," Feliciano snapped, shocking just about everyone in the room. He could not care about keeping up that happy-go-lucky front when something this important was happening. Even if the others couldn't quite understand what he was fussing about, there was no excuse for them to act so surprised.

Germany's cheeks heated up as Italy raised himself higher by standing on the ball of his foot, their faces barely more than an inch apart. Raising a hand to Ludwig's chin, Italy raised it slightly so the scar was much more visible. He rubbed his finger over the fine line, eyes opening just a crack to reveal how stern and unusually cold they were, "Where did you get this scar from?"

"I..." Germany was dumbfounded for a moment, his awkwardness kicking in at a horrible moment. This was pretty embarrassing, "This is a conversation best saved for later, when its not in the middle of a world meeting."

Italy bit down on his bottom lip, bringing his hand away from Germany's chin. He directed his gaze towards Ludwig's eyes, seemingly studying them. Icy cold sapphires widened in surprise as warm ambers slowly revealed themselves for what they thought was the first time. Feliciano's pupils were wide for a moment, small, and then normal, but a lingering anger was ever so present in those mysteriously elusive irises, "Quel bastardo."

Italy closed his eyes once more, backing away from a confused and shocked Germany. His brows were furrowed, one of his hands balled up in a fist with a slight tremble; he almost— no, he looked furious. That was... an unpleasant sight, especially seeing that Italy never looked like that before.

Without much of a warning, Feliciano marched over to Prussia's seat, grabbing him harshly by the wrist and dragging him up from his chair. A few countries rose to their seats, an uncomfortable aura filling the room as people wondered if Feliciano was possibly going to punch someone. They hadnt ever seen him mad before, and he was obviously pissed. Instead of any violence being taken, Italy silently pulled Prussia out of the room, whom was still trying to figure out what was going on.

Once they were out of room and the door were closed, Feliciano shoved Gilbert into the wall and slammed his fist just two inches away from his head. Prussia tensed up a little bit, seeing that for the first time, Feliciano was looking at him. Not with those stupid eyelids, but with his actual eyes. Gilbert frowned in discomfort; he must have figured it out, "Italy."

"Prussia."

"I'm sorry," Gilbert muttered out; he knew Italy deserved an apology. As a fist met with his jaw, Prussia quickly learned that Feliciano was not looking for an apology. He stumbled a little bit, silently damning his brother for training Feliciano to a point where his punches actually stung somewhat. His collar was yanked away by none other than a very pissed off Italian, it being brought down to said persons eye level.