~6 months later~

Feliciano had not had another 'incident' in quite sometimes. It had been so long, in fact, it had completely slipped Ludwigs mind.

Feliciano had slipped back into his happy, bubbly self in no time-but sometimes late at night, he'd feel it creeping up again. Those nights, Ludwig would wake up to find Feliciano sleeping next to him, but looking deeply troubled as he rested.

"It's just nightmares!" Feliciano would be quick to dismiss, with one of his charismatic smiles. "It's nothing to be worried about, really!"

In all honesty, Feliciano knew it was something entirely different-something much more sinister in nature. Something that scared him. But a feeling inside himself told him not to tell Ludwig. Though the man was usually the first to go to and hear all about Feliciano's troubles, he felt as though the problem was too personal, and he felt as if it'd just be a burden-so he stayed quiet.

On this particularly hot April day, the three (Ludwig, Kiku, and Feliciano) were gathered to do what they always did-train. Or, more accurately, Ludwig was instructing, Kiku was enthusiastically following, and Feliciano was trying to mentally figure out how to get away with doing the least work possible. There was really no need for them to train with one another, now that the war had ended and they weren't bound by an alliance; but the three found that they still enjoyed and worked best together, despite political ties.

"All right, we've gone over the techniques for the day. Warm up run: 1 mile." Ludwig ordered.

"Hai!"

"Yes, sir!"

Feliciano was all too aware that he was not doing well today. The heat prickled on his back harder then normal, and his feet couldn't move as fast as they normally did, as if they were made out of nothing but putty. His chest felt abnormally heavier than usual, and his breath was harder to contain. Before he knew it, he was last; not an uncommon occurrence for them, but it usually was a conscious choice of his own laziness. This time, he wasn't sure he could keep up even if he wanted to.

Ludwig looked back, throwing him a glance. "Italy! Pick up the speed!" He shouted at him.

"Y-yes!" He breathed out, not even able to get out the word 'sir'. He continued running, but he was falling back behind further and further...

Even Kiku had stopped to turn around and see what was going on. Feli had stopped running for a brief moment, placing his hands on his knees to catch his breath. He couldn't place it, but he didn't feel quite like...himself. It was as if his body was no longer fit to run.

Maybe if he just told Ludwig he'd get out of training for the day. The blonde would understand, right?

No. He couldn't tell the German-there was no way he could. He'd just have to try to run harder. With a deep inhale, he started to run again.

Were they nearing on a mile now? They had be. It had felt like forever since they started...

His feet suddenly stopped. He stood there, in the middle of the pavement, his head lowered and his eyes fixated on the ground. His legs refused to move, and he knew that he just couldn't run anymore. But, yet, suddenly he didn't feel out of breath. That was strange.

Ludwig and Kiku stopped ahead of him, and Ludwig turned around to begin to run back to Feliciano, Kiku quickly following his lead fast behind.

"Feliciano?" Ludwig asked when he reached him, a hint of sterness in his voice, and yet a hint of concern.

Feli's head shot up and he let out a smile. "Ah, I don't know what came over me!" He said. "But hm, I just don't really feel like running today." The words slipped out of his mouth without him thinking about what he was saying. He wanted to explain to Ludwig the oddness of the situation, but he couldn't find the right words to.

Ludwig sighed and shook his head. "Just because you don't want to run doesn't mean you can't." He said, his voice now fully stern.

"But-" Feli started, but then stopped. "Okay." He nodded, looking down again. Ludwig simply shook his head once more in annoyance and started off again, Kiku briefly flashing Feli a concerned glance before following after him.

The second Feli started to run again, it started all over again. His heart began to pound harder. and his breath felt heavy, and he was suddenly exhausted Why was this happening? Running was one of the easiest things for him to do!

Ludwig shouted back at him from over his shoulder. "Hurry up you're slacking!" This small comment made Feli to stop in his tracks.

For some reason he didn't know why, this annoyed him. He felt his blood begin to boil, and before he could control himself, he angrily shot out, "Okay, stud, on an average day, you're slower than me at best. Maybe if you put as much effort as you did criticizing me into actually working, you'd win a war for once." The comment and the shocked look on the German's face gave him brief satisfaction.

That was until he realized exactly what he had said.

Kiku had stopped running. Ludwigs mouth was gaped open. His face was contorted into a pained and shocked expression that Feli didn't think he had ever seen on the man before. His confidence and anger crumbled away immediately, and he felt blood rush to his face. He was sure if he could see himself at the moment, his face would be redder than a tomato.

"Sorry...sorry..." He meekly mumbled out. Then, without saying anything, he flipped his heels and ran faster than he had all day.

For the rest of the day, he lied in bed, not feeling motivated to do anything else. Romano was off with Antonio, so like always, he was all by himself. He resorted to pulling the covers over his head and watching some romance movies on the TV to try to ignore the situation.

At around 6, there was a knock on the front door, and reluctantly he got up from his blanket cocoon, wrapping the blankets around his shoulders as he made his way towards it. Maybe Romano had forgotten his key again...

Instead, he was greeted by Ludwig awkwardly standing in the doorway.

"Oh!...hi..." Feliciano greeted. It was rare that the brunette was ever at a loss for words, but he simply couldn't think up anything to say. His guilt for the days events was getting in the way of his conversational skills.

Ludwig coughed. He shifted awkwardly on his feet. "I was wondering if everything was okay? If you're feeling alright?"

Feliciano swallowed. No. "I guess I was just super tired." Suddenly, words returned to him. "I'm really, really, sorry Ludwig! I was so mean! I don't know what came over me; please forgive me!" He said hurriedly, bowing his head unable to make eye contact.

Ludwig raised up a hand to slow him. "It's okay."

Feliciano's head shot back up. "You forgive me?"

Ludwig let out a very small chuckle. "Of course."

He felt relief wash over him. "Thank you Ludwig!" He exclaimed, leaping into his arms and giving him a big hug. "I'm so happy!"

"Ja, ja..." Ludwig replied, clearly trying to sound stoic, but failing to keep the hint of a smile out of his voice.

When Feiciano broke from the hug, his stomach let out a low growl.

"Have you eaten yet?" Ludwig asked.

Feliciano shook his head, but then was struck with an idea. "Oh! I know! I'll make some pasta and we can eat it together as an apology dinner!" He smiled brightly.

Ludwig opened his mouth, presumably to object, but then sighed; and with a faint smile replied. "Ja, that sounds nice."

With a smile, Feli let him in, and the rest of the night blissfully went along in peace.

Try harder. I'll just have to try harder next time.

Every time he thought he was getting better, it grew worse.

It was taking all of his willpower to keep up his cheery self. His interior grew gradually more bitter and angry. Every little thing impeccably irritated him. A resentment began to grow inside of him for the nations-even the ones he deeply cared about.

There was a part of him, in the corner of his mind, that stayed the same as he had always been. It kept the hatred of his in check, working almost like a conscience. But every day it grew smaller; and every day, he felt his patience and endurance being worn more and more thin.

Mio dio-he felt like he was going insane.

Don't tell, a voice from the farthest reaches of his mind instructed him, this is your little secret. And for some reason, he could not help but obey.

The other nations knew something was different with him, but they couldn't place what. All they knew is that the happy nation was getting just a bit quieter, took more siestas, and even-a bit more ruder. Some concluded it was just extended influence of his brother.

On the rare occasion, one would ask if everything was okay, but each time he'd simply reply with a smile that felt forced and in a light high-pitched tone that felt fake, say, "Ve~I'm fine!"

Ludwig was the most concerned, always asking questions and prying about his well-being; but if he seemed to sense anything severely off, he didn't show it. He continued to treat Feliciano the same as he had before.

And then one night, he snapped.

He woke up violently, sweating, at the brink of midnight. The familiar sensation of his skin burning ached all over his body, and he wiped off his covers. In a desperate struggling, he rushed his way to the bathroom, struggling and tripping over his own feet. Splashing cold water on his face from the faucet, he took in deep inhales and exhales, bringing his breath to a steady pace.

It was going to be fine, it was going to be okay, he just needed to breath.

Just breath.

Taking another deep breath, he looked up to the mirror.

"GAH!"

He fell back into the shower curtain. It was not himself staring back. All of his features were there, but they were-different. His eyes were purple and bloodshot, and his uniform wasn't the normal shade of blue but rather a deep shade of bark. But most noticeable feature that was different; a confident and almost threatening smirk was prodded on his face.

In a brief flash, the image faded and the mirror reflected back his actual self, looking absolutely terrified, sitting in the tub with a broken shower curtain beside him

"Veneziano?" Romano's voice called from down the hall. Feliciano quickly shot up. Grasping onto what courage he had, he inspected the mirror a little bit more, but there was no evidence that there had been anything out of the ordinary; nothing but his frightened reflection was displayed back to him.

"Fratello, what the hell is wrong? It's nearly one A.M." His brother asked as he walked in, annoyed yet a hint of worry in his voice. There was a long pause, as Romano stared at him and then the shower curtain. "You broke the shower." He finally said, his expression blank.

Feliciano let out small guilty smile. "Haha...sorry..."

He shot a tired, annoyed look at the younger sibling, and then turned away. "Sono troppo stanco per questa merda..." He muttered while walking off.

Once Romano was gone, he dropped his smile and breathed a sigh. He ran a hand through his orangish-brown hair, and looked up once more at the mirror. It was still himself, but he now noticed how hollow his cheeks were sinking and how deep bags were appearing underneath his chestnut eyes. With another splash of water, he refreshed himself, and then exited the bathroom.

What was going on?

At that very same time, somewhere in England, Arthur was sitting wide awake and unable to sleep.

He knew something was going on. He could feel it, but yet he was unable to describe it. The same way he could see things other people couldn't, he could feel things other people couldn't. And something just felt so OFF. It was a nagging, unnerving feeling, one quite similar to walking through the woods alone at night-but not really being alone. Things were going to go terribly wrong and fast. But he didn't have the slightest inclination as to what.

"Bollocks."