"No! NO! You can't do this!" screamed Italy into his phone. "I-I'm not going to let you!"

"Italy, it's the only way…" said Germany. He knew how hard this was going to be for Italy.

"NO! There has to be some other way!" cried Italy, tears forming in the corners of his light brown eyes.

"Italy, please… I have to do this…"

"NO YOU DON'T! YOU CAN'T!" The phone started shaking in Italy's hand. Or was it his hand shaking the phone? He didn't care.

"It would be better… For the both of us…"

"Germany, please…!" Italy was desperate. "If you do this, it will tear me apart! You can't do this to me, Germany.

"Sorry Italy, I have to go now. Prussia's here." The line went dead. Italy stared at the phone for a while, before bursting into tears. Romano opened the door.

"What did the potato bastard say?" he demanded. Italy wiped away his tears, and looked sadly at his older brother. He took a deep breath to stop the sobbing.

"H-he…He's… going to throw away… the pasta…"