Rain was coming down quickly; droplets of water sliding down the broken glass and debris of the tattered buildings. A loud ringing was playing through the air. Thunder.

The sky was completely black; clouds covering the beloved sun that seemed to be something people have taken for granted. If the sun came out now, it would be a miracle to everyone. But they all knew...it wasn't possible. Never will light shine onto the land they loved so much, ever again. There was only one explanation as to why. The very ground they were standing on...was disappearing. If the personification of Italy was disappearing, then so would the people of Italy, and the vast land that Italy owned. In this case...both Italies have fallen. Rome and Venice have been destroyed. Their fates have been sealed, and there was only one word to describe it: Disappearance. Every single Italian civilian had accepted their fate, knowing they could not escape. They knew that both Italies were suffering more than they ever did, and will.

With heavy hearts, but with their heads held up high, their damaged Italian flag waved proudly in the air as the people joined hands as well as souls and hearts as they began singing together in harmony and peace.

"...Fratelli d'Italia

L'Italia s'è desta

Dell'elmo di Scipio

S'è cinta la testa

Dov'è la vittoria

Le porga la chioma

Chè schiava di Roma

Iddio la creò

Stringia moci a coorte

Siam pronti alla morte

L'Italia chiamò, sì."

There was another loud clang of thunder, and another flash of lightning. Though the rain continued to fall, it washed away the dirt and grime off of the people. "Long live Italia!" One man shouted, and a chorus of agreements rose from the crowd.

"Viva l'Italia!" A woman chanted, and another flash of lightning blinded them.

"Viva l'Italia!" Joined the men.

"Viva l'Italia!" Joined the elderly.

"Viva l'Italia!" Joined the children.

Nearby in the only building that was able to support itself in the raging storm, two Italian personifications lay on the stoned ground. One was blonde, while the other was a dark red-head. There was a small, breathy chuckle that escaped the blonde's lips.

"...Hehe. Do you hear that, Luci? They're chanting for us."

Luciano coughed up blood, before he clutched his stomach and scowled. "I don't give a shit about them...they're all going to disappear, just like us, Flavio. What's the use of singing the national anthem of Italy, when they're all going to die?"

"Oh, don't be like that, hon!" Flavio managed a weak laugh, "They have hope. Though they know that Italy is falling, they are still showing devotion and love to their country, until the bitter end. At least they're actually accepting that they're going to die. You, on the other hand, seem like you want to kill America, darling. That isn't good for you, you know?"

Light pinkish-purplish eyes narrowed at the mention of America.

"...If I wasn't dying right now, I'd go stab the fuck out of the Allen. He's the one who did this to us, fratello! How can you be all smiles and sunshine, even at the brink of death?! Are you fucking retarded, or something?!" The younger brother shouted in fury, before coughing up more blood, which splattered all over the floor.

The building in which the two personifications were laying down in began to crack and crumble a bit, the sound of rocks falling to the ground resonated within the building. It wasn't going to last any longer.

"...I have no reason to live, dear. That's why, I can leave this world without regrets. When you have no regrets at your last breath, you will smile and accept your fate. However, I guess I'm really just trying to mask the pain and fear by covering it with a cheerful attitude. The truth is, Luciano, I really will miss Andrés. I'm afraid of that very fact, and that's why, I can't show that I regret not being able to hold him at least once in my life. If I showed such an emotion now, God would surely let me live my afterlife as a ghost..." South Italy murmured, his hand beginning to fade to nothing. "And being a ghost...it must be worse than suffering down there, in the underworld. As a ghost, you are forced to watch the people that loved you go through so much pain and misery because they have lost you. It hurts you more than being pierced by a thousand glass pieces. Because even though they're crying and hurting, you're right there...and they will never be able to hear or see you. You can do nothing but stand there and watch them suffer…" He chuckled bitterly, biting his lip to stop the tears from coming.

Luciano only stared at his brother with sad eyes. "...Fratello…"

The older Italian gave a shaky breath, and sighed. "That's why, Luci...don't leave this world with regrets. Even if you do have regrets, try your hardest to conceal them. After all, dying with a smile on your lips will always be better than dying with a horrified, twisted expression. And who knows, maybe if you tried hard enough, God may be tricked by your act and let you go to Heaven, even with your many regrets." He joked a bit, trying to lighten up the mood.

"...But who am I kidding, right? Andy always pushed me away whenever I tried to hug and kiss him...he always gets annoyed when I'm near him. I guess...he'll be happy when I'm dead. Plus, after my long speech, I'm sure now that I really will become a ghost." The blonde grinned widely, once again masking his obvious emotions.

"...Fratello...I have to agree, Andrés is a dick. But it's okay...I'm here with you until the very bitter end, you idiot…" The younger Italian murmured, slowly bringing his hand to his brother's until they intertwined. Flavio smiled at that action. Luciano was never usually that affectionate, it was mostly him who did all of the cute actions. He would've returned the deed, but his other hand was beginning to fade away as well, while Luciano's foot was disappearing, slowly but surely.

"I will smile, but you better do it as well. Or else I will look like a stupid fool, smiling even when I'm slowly dying," said the younger Italian as he chuckled a bit. Flavio also chuckled, the two brothers finally at peace after such a long time.

Soon, Luciano spoke up again, breaking the silence. "I wonder what Lutz will do when I'm gone. He's always been pretty lazy and sloppy without me."

"...I guess we'll find out soon, then, huh? It's too bad you guys never hooked up...you would've made the cutest couple on Earth!" He cooed a bit, gaining a glare from his younger brother that said, 'shut the fuck up or I'll stab you to fucking death, even though we're already going to die, you can still feel pain.' Flavio chuckled and continued speaking, "And we'll finally get to meet Grandpa Rome…" The blonde stated warily, his eyes beginning to fail him as he squinted to see the crumbling ceiling above them.

"But you were the one who killed Gramps, fratello!"

"Little details don't really matter at this point, right? Ahaha. So yes, maybe I did, but I still totally love him lots!" Flavio cracked a grin, and before they knew it, both of his hands were gone, and his arms were on the verge of the same fate. Luciano, on the other hand, had no legs up to his knees.

"Sí, you sure do..." The redhead mumbled, rolling his eyes playfully.

And then it was silent, minus the raging storm outside. The water from the rain began to drip through the small cracks and holes of the ceiling, and they fell onto the two Italians. The two brothers lay there in silence, disappearing very slowly, until only their heads were left.

"...Hey, Luci?" Flavio asked quietly.

"...What is it, fratello?"

"...Say it with me. I can hear the civilians...we should join them with our last breaths."

"...Alright, fine. Just this once, on the count of three, okay?"

"Sí!"

"...One." Luciano breathed.

"Two!" Flavio sang.

"Three!" They both said in unison, before continuing on together as one voice. The voices of and whole of Italy spoke together with their people: "Viva l'Italia!"

A flash of white lightning suddenly overcame the remains of Italy and its people, and suddenly, everything and everyone...was gone.

BAM!

A hole in the wall had appeared, caused by a certain, and extremely angered German. "Luciano, you stupid idiot!"

BAM!

"What, you think you can just fucking disappear and leave me all alone like this?! Kuhscheiße!"

And then there were two holes, as well as slightly damages knuckles. Lutz Beilschmidt only saw red. He felt the rage build up until he had erupted violently, causing him to smash the wall in and create holes. The German grunted and pulled both of his fists out and growled inhumanely. "Verdammt! I will fucking kill that stupid American! He murdered the Italies! Allen will pay for what he's done...I will avenge Luciano!" Lutz declared boldly in a fit of rage.

Nearby, seated silently on the German's couch, was none other than the emotionless Spaniard named Andrés Fernandéz Carriedo. Of course, he was also raging, but he kept it inside. Instead of showing his emotions, Spain had kept it all in, showing nothing but a blank and cold expression.

"...Shut the fuck up. You're giving me a damn headache, you bastard." Andrês stated, an angered edge to his voice.

Lutz's eyes narrowed in annoyance before he ripped a nearby world map and shoved it right in front of the Spaniard's face. "Look at it closely. What the hell do you think is missing? ITALY! Both North and South!" He shouted, shaking the map back and forth. Andres only stared at it, not showing a single twitch of emotion. "They're not even on the fucking map anymore! They're gone, Luciano and Flavio! Don't you even give a damn, you stupid asshole?!"

"...I said, shut the hell up!" The tanned Spaniard snapped, his emotionless wall breaking. His brown eyes narrowed at the German as he stood up and took the map, ripping it into pieces before he threw it all onto the ground. "Listen here, Lutz. I do fucking care, okay? But unlike you, I'm being rational about it, instead of acting like a stupid angry asshole like you! You think I'd be a heartless bastard and just go on with my damned, messed-up life without Flavio, huh?!" He screamed into Lutz's face, surprising the German greatly. Never has he seen so much emotion coming from the other nation before.

Lutz stared at the ripped map on the floor, and slowly pulled his cap down to hide his eyes, guilt bubbling up in his gut. "...Sorry. I think I'll just go and calm down." He grumbled, walking past Andrés and into his room, leaving the Spaniard all alone in the living room.

When the door closed, Andrés sunk back onto the couch, trembling a bit. He just couldn't believe the fact that Flavio was gone, as well as Luciano. Sure, he had treated the Southern Italian like complete shit and ignored him, as well as hurt him many times before, but...the truth was, he was actually very protective and obsessive over him. And now the only person that helped him seem not as emotionless as he appeared to be, was gone. Disappeared. Just like their Grandfather, and Holy Roman Empire. One day, they were there, and the next, they're gone forever, never to be seen again.

Why did it have to end this way? Why couldn't he have just been a little bit nicer to Flavio? The truth was, whenever Flavio had asked him to kiss and cuddle together, he had wanted to go through with his requests. Instead, he pushed the male away and told him that he was annoying. If only he had taken the chance to at least kiss the Italian. Though...it was too late to think such thoughts now. He had taken the blonde for granted...and now, he was paying the price.

As his emotions slipped away from him like water slipped through fingers at this realization, for the first time in so many years and decades, Andrés sat on the couch, put his head in his hands, and sobbed his heart out.

"Andy, darling~! Please hug me?" A cute blonde Italian pouted, opening up his arms widely with the most adorable expression on his face as he stared up at the Spaniard pleadingly.

Andrés stared down at Flavio, expression blank. "...No." He answered grumpily, turning around to work on the roses again.

"But why? Please, darling? Just one? I won't ask ever again!" Flavio asked again, now a hint of desperation in his voice. He knew, though, that the Spaniard would once again ignore him, like he had all of these past years. Not once had he ever gotten to touch the Spaniard intimately, not even when he was just a young boy. Maybe that's why he had grown up to like to cuddle and touch people around him a lot, because he had never really gotten to be close to anyone when growing up.

When the Southern Italian realized that Andres was once again ignoring his pleads and requests, his smile faltered a bit and his eyes flickered to the floor. Curl drooping and arms going back down next to his sides, he sighed. "...Alright, dear...I guess I'll just go shopping for new outerwear. I'll see you later, okay?"

As expected, there was no answer from the Spaniard. Eyes downcast, Flavio walked out of the house, tears gently cascading down his face as soon as he left the door. He wiped away his tears with his designer scarf and ran off of Andrés' property, heading straight home to Italy.

Back inside of the lonely house, Andrés placed the rose he was working on back down on the counter and mustered a small sigh. "...Fuck." Looking down at his finger, he saw that he had cut it. Small amounts of blood began pouring out of the cut, and he hissed when he put his finger under the running tap, which had hot water on.

As he cleaned up the cut, he never would have thought that that was the last chance he'd ever have to see the energetic Italian, ever again.

Now, looking back at such an event...he regretted everything he had ever done.

A single cigarette was lit, before puffs of smoke began to emerge from it, and the person smoking the item. Lutz was leaning against the wall of his bedroom, eyes closed as he smoked in a relaxed manner. He was trying his hardest to become calm, and in these kinds of situations, smoking was the only way to make himself clear his brain. Of course smoking was bad, and he knew it himself. However, even though Lutz had promised Luciano he'd stop smoking, Luciano wasn't here anymore to yell at him like he always did, and that's what broke his heart the most.

The German never thought the day would come when he'd actually miss the fiery Italian's screaming and nagging about his smoking habits, and how his room was always always a huge mess whenever he wasn't there to clean it up for him. Why the hell was life so unfair? He hadn't been able to help the Italian in his time time of need, much less say goodbye! Lutz didn't think that the last time he'd see Luciano was when they parted with nothing but a heartless goodbye. They simply walked by each other, nodded, and bowed. If he had only known that was would be the last time he'd be able to see the Italian alive, he would've ran after him him and embrace him tightly, and then…

And then what?

...Now, he would never know. It was all his fault. He didn't even try to help Italy as it disappeared from the face of Earth. He was nothing but a coward. Lutz knew in his heart that he would never be able to hear Luciano's quirky insults, or see his confident smirks ever again. Because there was only one thing left to say: Luciano, to put it bluntly, was dead.

Still, he couldn't help but have wishful thinking.

...Wasn't there a way to bring Italy back to life?

'No, there isn't. The Holy Roman Empire never came back. Neither did the Italies' Grandfather.' A voice echoed in his mind, but he deliberately ignored it. Lutz didn't want to believe that there wasn't a way to retrieve the country of Italy back. There had to be a way, right? For every wrong, there is a right. Yes, that's it. There was only one person to ask, but he wasn't very pleased to think he'd actually have to talk to the psychopath. Though he was the only person who knew about magic...and that was actually good at it, as well. He'd have to remember to kill Allen another time.

As Lutz inhaled and exhaled, more smoke filled the room as he rubbed his temples. "...Alright, I'll go see Oliver, verdammt. But I'm sure as hell not going alone. I'll drag Andrés with me, I'm sure he'd want to go and save the blonde brat." He mumbled to himself, before throwing the cigarette into a random bin and walking out of the door, finally calm and collected again.

It was time to console the other Spanish nation, and buy two tickets to travel to England.

Feliciano Veneziano Vargas, the personification of Northern Italy. That was who he was. Bubbly, kind, cheerful, happy-go-lucky, innocent, outgoing, talented...the list could go on and on about how great of a person he was, including all of the positive character traits. That was something that he took great pride in, something everyone should be proud of. However, there was something that bothered him, something that made him feel...unsettled. The other day, Feliciano had taken the IQ test on a computer, along with many of the other nations. The Italian had gotten a very high IQ of 131, which was dubbed in the 'very superior intelligence' range. He was very pleased with his score, and immediately skipped over to Germany to tell him how smart he was.

"Ludwig, Luddy! What score did you get?" Asked Feliciano, grinning happily like his usual self as he bounced up and down excitedly.

The German raised an eyebrow at the Italian, blue eyes peering down curiously at him. "I got a 127 on the test. What did you get, Feliciano?"

Feliciano had opened his eyes, revealing amber colored orbs. They were sparkling with happiness. Germany had gotten in the 'very superior intelligence' range as well! Now it feels like they were equals! "I got a score of 131! I can't believe I got a higher score than Ludwig!" He exclaimed, beginning to dance around. "This must be a dream!"

A few nations in the room looked over at the pair, quite shocked that Italy had actually gotten a higher score than Germany. But some thought he was just joking and a murmur of chuckles and giggles rose. This caused the personification of Germany to blush slightly in embarrassment, for having so much infamous attention on him was something he wasn't yet accustomed to. Feliciano, however, did not even notice.

"...Hm. Are you sure you got a score that high? I mean, not that I doubt you, Feliciano, but...it seems quite strange to me," said Ludwig, his eyebrows furrowing with disbelief. "Let me see your score, please, if you don't mind."

The Italian paused in his celebratory dance and gave him a strange look. "...O-Okay, if that's what you want, Luddy. Follow me!"

And so, the two walked over to North Italy's computer, and sure enough, the score was still on the screen, clear as the day.

131.

Ludwig was staring at the screen is shock, before he quickly composed himself again and cleared his throat. "Ahem. I see...that is amazing, Feliciano. It seems I have underestimated your abilities. You are indeed a smart fellow," admitted the German. He felt ashamed that he couldn't bring himself to believe that Italy had gotten a higher score than him, until he saw the proof right in front of him. Though, who could have believed that Italy, the one who put a grenade in his mouth instead of throwing it, the one who built a tank the wrong way, the one who was so oblivious to many things, the one who, instead of fighting, surrendered and ran away, had such high intelligence. It was almost unbelievable. But, Italy was his friend and ally.

'Next time, I'll believe and trust his words, like a true friend would. I won't stoop as low as this anymore.' Ludwig vowed to himself mentally, giving a small smile at the beaming Feliciano.

"Wow, Ludwig just praised me! Thank you so much, Luddy!" Feliciano practically shouted out loud for the whole world to hear.

"...Ja. It's no problem," Ludwig replied, coughing slightly with tinted cheeks. It was quite embarrassing to have his praises be taken so seriously, like they were gold medallions or something. But he never really did give out many praises and compliments...so he supposed it was a good thing Italy had enjoyed it.

"I know! I'll go make some pasta as a celebration! I'll be right back!" Exclaimed the Italian, as he rushed out of the doors before Ludwig could even respond. The German laughed lightly to himself at the overly-excited Italian.

"He's really something, isn't he?" He muttered to himself, a look of nostalgia in his eyes, as if he were remembering something from long ago.

North Italy hummed to himself as he cooked his beloved pasta. Feliciano hummed a happy tune as he cooked, throwing in the ingredients like the professional he was, and the pasta was ready in no time. "Hm...I wonder what score fratello got," he wondered aloud as he poured the sauce onto the noodles. Feliciano had prepared two plates of pasta: one for Ludwig, and one for himself. He'd make some for Lovino and Antonio later if they wanted some, too.

The nice aroma of pure deliciousness filled his nostrils as the dishes were completed. "Mmm, I really do love pasta," he hummed happily, inhaling the scent as his stomach rumbled a bit. Picking up the two plates, he pushed the door open with his back and casually walked over to the meeting room again, rushing to serve pasta while it was still cooked and new. As the door came into view, he was about to burst through them, but stopped right in his tracks when he heard something that made his curl droop.

"I mean, like, do you really believe Italy got a 131 as his IQ? It seems impossible! He couldn't be smarter than Germany!" A voice whined within the room. Feliciano realized that it was Poland who was speaking. "And he can't be more intelligent than me, either! Actually, like, no one can be more intelligent than me! Isn't that right, Lithy?"

"H-Huh? But, that's kind of mean to say, don't you think?" Lithuania asked, trying his hardest not to offend the other fabulous nation. Feliks' face scrunched up with disappointment, and he was about to retort a response.

That's when France intervened and spoke up, "Now, now, mon ami! Don't be so mean to cute little Feliciano! Sure, he may be a bit of an airhead sometimes, but he's capable of doing things himself, you know. He may not act like it, but he is quite intelligent, as much as that seems impossible," stated the Frenchmen.

England joined in on the conversation, "Yes, he is quite the stupid git. I've escaped Italy plenty of times myself, in the perfect disguise!" Arthur declared, straightening his posture to show off his pride.

"Hahaha! That's only because you were rescued by me, the hero!" Alfred exclaimed, patting (hitting) the Brit on the back with a wide grin on his face. "You would've never escaped, if it wasn't for me! Italy is no match for us Americans! He wasn't smart enough to see me coming!"

"Ah...Alfred-san, please don't be so mean to Feliciano-san. I do admit, I was also quite shocked to hear that he was very smart, but that doesn't mean you should be calling him unintelligent. That is very rude," Kiku interjected, defending his friend.

As the remaining nations bickered on and argued about how 'intelligent' Italy was, the nation backed away from the door, eyes wide with shock. So that's what everyone really thought of him. Unintelligent? Sure, he was sometimes oblivious to the things around him, and sure, he might of messed things up and acted like an airhead...but, that didn't mean he wasn't smart. Did everyone really think he was that stupid? Did he actually act that idiotic?

Giving a small whimper, Feliciano quickly placed the plates on a table that was near the door, and ran off to a private room, slamming the door behind him.

The Italian slid down the door, curling up into a small ball. Was it that hard to believe that he had a high IQ of 131? Maybe he should start acting more serious...more...sophisticated. Instead of running away, he should fight. Yes...that's right. That was what he wanted! Then, he could protect all of his friends, and he'd become a strong and big country that Germany and Japan would be proud of! Along with his big brother Romano! But it all felt so unrealistic...how could he act so serious all of the time? How could he become strong?

"It's really easy, poppet. You don't even need to ask!"

Feliciano's eyes shot open as he sat straight up, his amber orbs darting from left to right across the room. "W-What? Who's there?"

"Shh, be calm, my sweet. You want to become a strong nation, yes? You want to prove everyone that you are indeed, quite intelligent, correct?" The voice cooed. It was as sweet as sugar, so hypnotizing…

"S-Si...I do...I want to become even more capable of myself. I want to please Ludwig and Kiku…" North Italy found himself saying as he began to slowly stand up in an entranced manner.

"Then come...come, and I will help you. We need you here, North Italy. I will help you become the person you truly wish to be. Follow my voice, poppet…" The strange voice echoed in his ears, making him walked towards the bathroom in the room. His footsteps were slow and steady, his expression slowly became blank.

"...Come, child…"

Soon enough, Feliciano was standing in front of the bathroom's mirror. Without even knowing what he was doing, he slowly touched the mirror.

His hand went right through. He gasped at the sudden tingling feeling that he felt throughout his body.

"...Dont' be afraid. I will help you become the person you wish to be. In return, you will help us…Come, dear. Enter our world. Quickly, before it's too late…"

Regaining his posture, the Italian nodded and climbed onto the sink…

...And jumped right through the mirror, before everything went black.

"Oliver, open the door! We're here to ask you a favor!" Lutz's strong voice shouted as he pounded on the door. "Open up, verdammt!"

A cheerful voice soon replied from the inside, "Hehehe! It looks like I have visitors today~! How nice to see you, my cute little cupcakes! Come in, come in!" As soon as he finished his sentence, the door unlocked by itself and opened slightly.

Lutz quickly slammed the door open and marched right inside, Andrés following behind him. His eyes scanned the room, and he spotted Oliver casually sipping a cup of tea on the sofa in the living room. The two nations walked right over to the Brit.

"Alright, I'll keep this short!" The German said in his loudest voice, "We need you to-"

"Shhhh!" Oliver quickly hushed him, shooting him a glare. "Be quiet! I have another guest, he's sleeping upstairs! You'll wake him up with that ridiculously loud voice of yours, German!" He whispered, placing his cup of tea back onto the table. "It would be quite helpful if you would lower your voice, dear."

The Spaniard and the German looked at each other, giving each other confused looks. Who the hell in their right mind, would actually sleep over at this psycho's house? Andres just shrugged it off, before returning his attention to the Brit.

"Uh, fine...But I need you to tell us a way to revive Italy!" Lutz half yelled, half whispered.

Oliver smiled as his expression darkened. "Italy, you say? But why would you need to revive Italy, when Italy is already here?" He took a map and laid it on the table, "See? I don't understand what you're getting at, but you must be crazy, poppet!" He gave a demented giggle as he laughed by himself.

"What?!" Exclaimed Lutz, as he grabbed the map from the table and stared at the spot Italy was in.

...North Italy...was on the map.

How...in the world?

Andrés quickly snatched the map from Lutz and stared at it, long and hard. There was a long pause before he scowled and growled out, "...Where...is South Italy?" He asked menacingly.

"Before you answer that, does this mean Luciano is alive?!" Germany asked frantically, losing his cool. "Answer me, you stupid, crazy Brit!"

"Calm down, dearie. Luciano is dead. South Italy...well, he is harder to get than North." Oliver stated nonchalantly, crossing his leg over onto his other one without a care in the world.

"What the hell do you mean, Luciano is dead?! If he really is dead, why is North Italy suddenly back on the map, huh?! Explain!" Lutz slammed his fist on the table, a demanding look in his eyes. He was glaring holes through Oliver, now.

"Hmm, I wonder~!" The Brit evaded every question, "Oh, I know! You should go visit my friend upstairs! But remember, he's sleeping, so be very quiet!" He winked suggestively, "And while you're at it, please don't jump him, or do whatever your boner tells you to do! I'm sure he'd be terrified of you, Lutz~! First room on the right!"

Suddenly, everything clicked in his mind and he quickly rushed upstairs, barging right into the first room on the right hallway. His breath fell short when he saw who was sleeping soundly on the bed, as if the whole world never existed. He felt the world stop spinning for a split second, and his heart rate picked up.

"Lu-Luciano?!"

Italy's National Anthem: Translation

Brothers of Italy,
Italy has awakened;
Scipio's helmet
she has put on her head.
Where is the Victory? (ref. 1)
Offer her the hair; (ref. 2)
because slave of Rome
God created her.

Let us unite!
We are ready to die;
Italy called.

x~x

"Viva l'Italia!" - Long Live Italy!

x~x

Luciano, second player North Italy.

Flavio, second player South Italy.

Lutz, second player Germany.

Andres, second player Spain.

Allen, second player America.

Oliver, second player England.

This story will have GerIta and Spamano, eventually. Thank you for reading, I will update as soon as I can.

~Kawaii Dream