I do not own Hetalia~!

Holy Roman Empire couldn't believe it worked.

That he was really here, standing before a group of nations, all looking rather startled.

'Whoops,' he thought, taking in the scene before him. He seemed to have interrupted a meeting. A part of him desperately wanted to apologise politely and offer to come back at a better time, but, for once, he ignored the urge. He had come too far to turn back now.

A blonde country spoke up with a bemused grin. "Uh… you okay, dude?"

Uncomfortable, he glanced down at himself, realising how he must look. He hurried to straighten out his clothes, and smoothed back his hair. He took a breath before speaking. "I have come… for Italy." he said with a certain grand air of finality.

All eyes turned to a lone figure at the back.

Holy Rome felt the breath leave his lungs as his gaze finally fell upon his lost love. This was it. After all this time, he would finally be reunited with his precious Ita—

Then he blinked.

His mind registered two unexpected things.

For one… she was asleep. Leaning back against her chair, peacefully ignorant of all her surroundings.

Well this was getting off to a fantastic start.

For another, Italy looked… rather more masculine than he expected. And where was her dress? Woman must wear dresses or skirts at all times. Blushing madly, his eyes unconsciously lowered to her chest to find… nothing. Confused, he had a better look. But, just as it first appeared, she seemed to have very small… breasts… (His face burned an even brighter red at these thoughts.)

All the same, he could overlook these facts if it meant he could be with the love of his life.

He started a little as he finally realised the attention of all eyes of the room were now turned back to him expectantly. After several awkward seconds' silence, he shuffled forward, reaching out a hand to lay on Italy's shoulder. He finally spoke up, feeling rather proud of how strong his voice sounded.

"Italia, I have return—"

…And proceeded to jump a foot in air as his love let out a screech of terror, jolting awake, letting out a stream of garbled speech that the Holy Roman Empire couldn't make any sense of whatsoever.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAH! TAGLIATELLE WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS ME I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS! GERMANY~! SAVE ME, SAVE ME!"

Before Holy Rome knew what was happening, he had an extremely un-female Italy clinging onto his waist for dear life.

"I… Ah… Um…" He fumbled for words, finding his brain to be short-circuiting. So much for seeming like a strong, confidant nation.

For some reason none of the other countries appeared to react to this entire situation. One of them, another blonde, on the opposite side of Italy, sighed in exasperation, speaking up with an odd accent. "Italy, that isn't me."

"Ve?" Holy Rome couldn't contain the blush that kept onto his face as the familiar but rather different country still hugging his waist looked up with big, amber-brown eyes. "…Who are you?"

Holy Roman Empire couldn't help but wonder if he would come to regret his decision to

What is this I don't even—

Okay, so this an idea that has been knocking around in my head for a loooong time. Granted, it's not exactly an original idea, but yeah. So anyway, many, many mouths ago, I started writing it, but I only got a few short paragraphs in before I got bored and abandoned it. Just a few days ago, I rediscovered it, and before I really knew what I was doing I was rewriting in a rather different way. And this ridiculous, super short first chapter was the result.

*shrug* I have no clue where I'm even going with this, so suggestions are welcome!