It was a rare day. Italy almost never went somewhere outside his borders unless he was attending a world meeting or going to visit one of his fellow nations. Yet today he stood right at his border looking at the beautiful rolling green hills of Austria. It had been a long time since he last visited the country and the sight before him was almost enough to make him forget why he was there. The day was sunny and warm. Italy gripped his picnic basket and crossed the border. The wind gently blew through his hair and he smiled softly as he left his country behind.

Despite the gorgeous day, Italy was not running through the hills chasing butterflies as he normally would. Though he would never tell anyone, occasionally certain memories came to the surface and he would be thrown into melancholy. The other nations would not expect such a thing from him, and whenever Italy felt the sadness welling up he would leave the other nations behind so he could remember. He always returned from these trips happy and the other nations never suspected anything was wrong.

Italy reached the top of a hill and set down his basket. The silence and peace of the day was enough to ease the pain in his heart a little and he worked to maintain the soothing quiet as he opened the basket and laid a blanket on the ground. It was lunchtime, but the food remained unpacked as Italy lay on the blanket looking up at the sky.

'The clouds are white, fluffy, and all different shapes today.' He thought as the clouds drifted overhead. 'That one looks like a butterfly, that one looks like a duck, and that one…' Italy stopped to ponder for a moment. 'There are those two bits poking out from the smallish circle at the top that is connected to a slightly larger circle.' He tilted his head to the right and to the left but something was not right until a gust of wind brought two tiny clouds drifting just below the larger circle. A large grin broke out across his face. 'That's it! It looks like a bunny. A slightly deformed bunny, but…' In an instant the grin was gone.

Italy felt as though he were years younger looking at a painting of a strange rabbit with deformed feet. Bright blue eyes stared at him as the wind blew and lifted the edge of his skirt.

Pain was a constant for Italy. Every time he thought about his young years at Austria's house the pain sliced through him. Each time Italy thought about bright blue eyes and blond hair topped by a black hat the agony nearly tore him in two. Italy had waited for so long. When he had been left behind so his love could go fight France's crazed boss, Italy never imagined his love would not return. Yet in 1806 news of the Battle of Austerlitz reached Austria's house. Italy had never been tortured but when he remembered that moment as his heart ached and breathing became nearly impossible that was what he figured torture would feel like.

Italy could not stop the tears from falling down his face. 'It's been so long, Santo Roma. I know you're never coming back yet I still wait for you.' Italy rolled onto his side, drawing his knees up to his chest. 'Whenever I think of you it is as if you had just left, taking my push broom with you. Sometimes I even think I can still feel your lips gently pressed to mine.' The sobs shook Italy's small frame but he refused to make a sound. 'In any of those times you ran from me did you ever consider there might be a day when you could no longer see me? You ran so many times; if you hadn't run we could have had that much more time together. Now I'm running after you even though you're so far away that I can't even see you anymore.'

Italy's hands curled into fists as anger surged through him. 'We could have been happy. We should be together now, laughing as we have a picnic together. That will never happen, will it?' Italy lay there until the sun baked his tears dry. 'It's been so long, Santo Roma. For over two centuries I have waited for you. Though, I suppose this is nothing compared to the nine centuries you loved me without my knowledge.' Italy smiled a little as his breath hitched in his chest. 'All I want is to smile and laugh with you even though I know such a thing will never be. Still, another day sitting by our easels drawing bunnies would be nice.'

Italy slowly cracked open his eyes and sat up, rubbing salty residue from his cheeks as he did so. The day was still as beautiful as when he climbed the hill and though sadness was still weighing him down, he felt better than he had in a long time. He saw the basket sitting next to him and his stomach growled.

"Pasta!~" Italy exclaimed as he grabbed the basket. At the shout dozens of butterflies took flight from a field of flowers at the bottom of the hill. Italy's smile returned even as his hands shook while unpacking the two lunches from the basket. 'Wherever you are, Santo Roma, I hope you're happy.'

Italy hummed to himself as he ate his pasta. 'I wonder what Romano is doing today? I didn't tell him where I was going, or even that I was leaving. Hopefully he was fine today by himself.' He set the empty pasta container next to him and watched the butterflies flit from flower to flower. Italy giggled as one flew away from its fellows and up the hill toward him. It landed softly in his hair and Italy's eyes shut for a brief moment as the last of his melancholy left him.

When his eyes opened the butterfly was gliding away, back towards the field and its brethren. "Hey, wait for me!" He called as he chased the butterfly down the hill. "Funny, this side of the hill is steeper than the side I climbed earlier.' Italy thought moments before he lost his footing and careened down the hill. "Waa!~" He yelled as he tumbled. When he finally stopped moving he found that he landed had on his chest, knocking all the air from his lungs. He coughed as his body tried to return oxygen to his system.

"Are you all right?" The question was spoken softly, yet it still startled Italy. He opened his eyes to find he'd landed at the feet of a person with black boots. The sun obscured most of the figure except for grey pants tucked into black boots and the outline of a dark coat.

'Santo Roma?' Italy thought as the figure began to crouch down. The hope filled him instantly even though he knew his love was dead. Yet after living in his memories for the past several hours as he walked to the border and reminisced over misshapen bunnies, he could not help but imagine that his deepest desire was about to come true.

"You really should be more careful, Italien." The figure was crouched by Italy, revealing the coat to be blue, not black.

Italy's heart constricted with pain as he recognized the nation whose borders he had crossed without permission. "I'm sorry, Austria." Italy could not hide the tears once again sliding down his face, but he could not entirely lose face in front of his fellow country. "I'm sorry that I'm so clumsy and that I always make a mess. I'm sorry that I crossed your border without permission. I'm sorry the butterflies distracted me. I'm sorry! Please don't hurt me for crossing the border!~" Italy wailed, redirecting his pain and using it like a shield.

Austria sighed and the sound of disappointment made Italy cringe and curl into a ball on his side. "Why do you always get into trouble, Italien? You aren't little anymore. You need to take care of yourself."

Italy cried harder, remembering a day long ago when a little boy stretched out his hand and proposed they become a powerful empire together. "I'm sorry, Austria!~" Italy wailed as he forced the memories away.

Austria paused and then sighed again. "Come on Italien, let's get you back up this hill and across the border." Italy hiccupped in response as he tried to stop his tears.

Austria rose and offered his hand to Italy. Italy took his hand and was pulled to his feet. "Sorry to trouble you, Austria." Italy said as he wiped the tears from his face.

Austria said nothing and started up the side of the hill. Italy followed morosely. 'For just a moment I let myself truly hope even though there he is gone and there is nothing left to hope for.' The pain Italy felt in his heart melted as his tears stopped. 'Now I've angered Austria. Hopefully he won't be too mean.'

Austria made it to the top of the hill and looked down the hill, past Italy, at the field of flowers where the butterflies still flitted about. Italy finally made it to the top, panting from the exertion and collapsed onto his blanket. Austria stood still as a beacon, staring into the distance as though it hid a secret he sought.

Italy followed his gaze and realized why Austria stared at the flowers with such sadness. 'Perhaps we are here for similar reasons.' Italy smiled sadly at the thought. "Ungheria really loved flowers, didn't she?"

Austria did not move when the question was voiced, though Italy knew it had been heard. For once in Italy's life he decided to leave the grieving nation in peace. He put away one empty lunch container and one full lunch container and folded his basket, shutting his basket with a quiet snap.

Austria turned then and regarded the nation who was already turned to leave. "You brought two lunches, Italien." The slight accusation was enough to make Italy want to run far away.

"I always bring two lunches with me when I go on picnics." Italy turned back and smiled at Austria. "Just in case I run around too much and need a second lunch." He tilted his head in a carefree manner, yet his heart pounded with dread at the thought that Austria knew why he was here.

Austria stared for a moment and looked as though he might say something. Finally he turned back to his flowers. "Don't get into too much trouble crossing the border, Italien"

Italy smiled. 'He knows, but I spent enough years under his care with Santo Roma that Austria would never say a word about why I'm here.' Italy turned and ran down the hill, laughing all the way as his momentum kept him upright. He walked toward his border knowing he wouldn't be back for a while. 'Santo Roma, you may not be here but we all remember you. No one whose life you touched will ever be able to forget you.' The last trace of pain left from his moment of hoping Austria was Holy Rome slipped away leaving the Italian with a true smile. Italy didn't look back as he crossed the border into his own country, land that had once belonged to his beloved that now belonged to him. 'Don't worry, Santo Roma, not only will I never forget you, but I'll wait because you made me a promise and you never broke a promise.'