A.N. Hi! I'm Pachimew, and this is my first fan-fic, so I really hope it came out right! I had a poll, and this won, so here it is! It is based off of a roleplay I did with my friend…well, enjoy, everybody, and if you don't believe in the Germany= HRE theory, THEN GET OUT OF MY FAN-FIC! NOW! Okay, are all the non-believers gone? (Shun the non-believers!) Good! Then enjoy the fan-fic!

"ITALY! IT IS TIME TO START TRAINING!" Germany bellowed. Italy, who was peacefully playing with a cat, jumped. "V-ve? Aw, but Germany! I don't wanna train!" Germany sighed and rubbed his temples. "Italy, how do you expect to get stronger if you don't do any training?"

"Ve~you'll protect me, of course, right Germany?" Germany blushed and muttered something under his breath. "Italy, I won't always be around to protect you." Italy tilted his head to the side. "Ve~of course you will! Nothing can defeat you, Germany!" Germany looked down. 'If that's true,' he thought, 'then why can't I remember my childhood?'

"L-look, Italy, just do it. I don't want you to get hurt if you have to fight..." Italy weakly stood up. "But Germanyyyy...I wanna play with the kitty!" Germany gave Italy a stern look and firmly said, "After training, Italy, and not before. Now, give me 10 laps!" Italy frowned, but sensing that his puppy-dog eyes wouldn't work, began walking. "Besides," Germany called at his back, "I think Britain is on his way here now!"

"WHAT?!" Italy shrieked, "WHERE?!" Without bothering to wait for Germany's answer, Italy took off, nearly breaking the sound barrier. "ITALY! WAIT UP!" Germany raced after Italy, mentally shaking his head. He would never understand Italy's thought process.

Italy, meanwhile, just ran like hell. He didn't like Britain and had no desire to be caught by said nation. While he ran, he heard a faint "Gah!" Screeching to a stop, he turned to see...GERMANY LYING FACE-DOWN WITH A GASH IN HIS HEAD?! "Ve! GERMANY!" Italy cried, racing back to his fallen friend. "Germany! Germany, are you okay?!" The gash in Germany's head was already healing, the blood clearing. Groggily, Germany's eyes opened. "I-Italia?" Italy was too relived that Germany was okay to register the fact that Germany called him Italia.

Germany—a.k.a. the Holy Roman Empire—was confused. He had been looking for his Italia...he'd asked Mr. Austria, who'd told him that Italia was all grown up. He had thanked Mr. Austria and began leaving to continue his quest. The next thing he knew, he woke up here, lying on the ground, with his Italia above him...no, not his Italia, he could see that now. It was someone else. "...okay?" The tail end of the stranger's sentence reached his ears. Groaning, Holy Rome sat up, rubbing his head. "Y-yeah." He said, rubbing his head. Relief flooded the strangers face. "Thank god!" he sighed, never opening his eyes. Just like his own Italia..."Come on," the stranger—who Holy Rome decided to call Italy, on account of looking so much like his Italia—said, "You need to go home."

Italy was simply overcome with happiness that Germany was okay. He seemed a bit dazed, but Italy was sure he'd be fine by the time they reached home. "I-Italia..." Germany murmured. Italy stopped dead in his tracks as he realized what Germany had called him. Italia was a name no one had called him since...since Holy Roma left..."Where is my Italia?" Germany said, a little more forcefully. 'No...i-it's not possible...Germany is-'

"WHERE…IS…MY…ITALIA?!" Germany growled, his voice charged with power. Italy could feel the tears forming at the corners of his eyes. Slowly, he turned. "H-H-Holy Roma?" Italy asked, voice quivering, the tears threatening to spill over. Germany recoiled as though he'd been struck. "How do you know that name?" he snarled.

Holy Rome was starting to get edgy. This stranger, who he didn't know, had just called him Holy Roma. No one except his Italia called him Holy Roma! "Holy Roma!" The stranger cried, rushing to Holy Rome and hugging him, out of the blue. "What the?!"

"Holy Roma…I thought I'd lost you…" the stranger sobbed. "W-What are you talking about?! Get off me!" Holy Rome yelled, pushing him off. He shrunk back with a shocked expression. "Y-you don't…remember?" Italy asked weakly. "Don't remember what?" Holy Rome asked, keeping his voice low and menacing. "Don't you remember, Holy Roma? All the times we had together? You would chase me, demanding I become part of your empire…"

'What?' Holy Rome thought, eyes widening. "And I would run, at first…or the time that I tried to teach you how to draw…or that day in the river…or the cat festival…"

'How does this stranger know about all this? The only person that should know all this is-' The realization hit him like a brick, 'Italia…'

"And then…you had to leave…" Italy said, more to himself now, "On that day…we had our first…" Italy blushed, deeply, "k-kiss…"

'Italia?!'

"And I gave you my push broom…and you promised to come back…" Italy was crying now, crying hard, "B-but you never did…"

'It is Italia!' Holy Rome's eyes widened forward as two sets of memories flooded his head. One set was his own, and the other…was…of his life…as Germany?

"W-why didn't you come b-back?!" Italy wailed. He just couldn't stand it, seeing Germany—or was it Holy Rome?—right in front of him but not knowing who he was. It was like having his heart torn out of him and ripped in half before his eyes. Then he felt a pair of arms wrap around him. "V-ve?" Italy looked up, opening his eyes ever so slightly. Germany…was holding him…? "Italia…I am so, so sorry…" he murmured into Italy's ear. "Holy Roma?"

"Yes, Italia?" Italy smiled and snuggled into Germany's embrace. "I love you…"

"I love you, too, Italia." Germany smiled down at Italy. Then a thoughtful look crossed his face. "But I do have one question."

"Yes, Holy Roma?"

"Why are you wearing boy's clothes?"

"A-Ah…well…" Italy blushed and pulled away a bit. "I'm a boy." The statement grew heavy in the air. Italy could practically taste the awkwardness— just for the record, pasta was much better. "Well…that explains a few things…" Germany said, a bit embarrassedly. "D-does this mean we can't be together, Holy Roma?" Germany grabbed Italy firmly by the shoulders and looked straight into Italy's opened eyes. "Italia, I love you no matter what gender you are, so don't worry, okay?" He said firmly. Italy smiled. "Okay, Holy Roma."

The setting sun was missing, but for the two nations, the moment couldn't be better as their lips locked and the long-lost lovers shared their second kiss.

And finished! Woo! Not bad for a first fan-fic! At least, I hope it's not bad…moving on! This may become a two-shot showing the reactions of various nations—Prussia, Austria, Hungary—and Italy clearing a few things up for Germany/Holy Rome. Only if I get enough reviews requesting it, though! Tell me what I can do to make it better if you don't like it, and if you just plain dislike the Germany= HRE theory or GerIta…WHY THE HECK ARE YOU HERE?!

HETALIA FOREVER!

~Pachimew