Chapter Text
Romano never really liked himself. I mean, it was always pretty clear that he didn’t. The differences between him and his brother, Italy, were impeccable. Feliciano was always cheerful, finding the best in any situation. No matter how dire it was. Then there was Lovino. He was the direct opposite of his younger brother. He always looked at things as if giving a sense of hope could topple it all down. So, he had learned to never believe in hope, only in the certainty of something going to plan.
Naturally, the older Italian’s behavior and his view of the world had started causing him some problems. More than what they had caused before. Physical ones. His breathing begin to rapidly speed up whenever he made the smallest mistake, his hazel eyes which were once glimmering with pride had faded into dread, and his delicate tan skin slowly begun to turn pale and rough.
It wasn’t about if Romano was good. He was a good representative for his side of Italy, but he wasn’t great. Italy however, was not only great, he was exceptional. And Romano, hated it. Seeing his brother succeed at everything with such ease, had driven him to look at the younger Italian with hatred. However, Lovino hated that he despise Italy. To be so jealous of your younger brother that you begin to loathe them was horrible. But the southern part of Italy continued to display a clear sense of hostility towards the northern region, and it caused Romano to fall into a rabbit hole he couldn’t escape from.
January 29, 2026, 2:48pm
Due to the cold season known as winter, the heater was scorching hot. However, Romano still felt cold. It wasn’t do to the actual heat, just… something else entirely. The world meeting was currently in session, but Romano just saw it as white noise. His hazel eyes stared off into the distance. He didn’t even notice what was happening until his brother lightly tapped him on the shoulder. His hand was warm compared to Romano’s icy fingertips.
“Tutto bene, fratello?(You doing ok, brother?)” Feliciano questioned. Lovino eyes wided by the sudden movement made by his brother. The younger Italian’s face was glimmering with a worried expression.
“I-“ the younger brother hesitated, as if he was trying to find the perfect words. “You just… haven’t been looking ok at all. In fact, you look like you been though a battle fratello.” He finally said. Romano was stunned. Did he really look that bad? However, his thoughts began to flood his head. How did Italy notice? How bad did he actually look? Why didn’t he do something to fix himself up? They kept on coming as if a gun with never ending ammo was firing at him. Until one question passed his way.
Why can’t you just be better then him at one thing? Ouch… that one actually hurt.
“Huh?” The older Italian queried, not truly focusing on the situation around him. His hazel eyes quickly flashed around the room, noticing that some other countries stopped their conversations to see what was happening. The southern side didn’t enjoy those strange stares.
“Stai zitto, Italia. Stai facendo una scenata. (Just shut up Italy. you’re causing a scene.)” Romano muttered, making sure only Italy could hear what he said.
Italy’s eyes shot up as he examined the South. Romano looked even worse. His eyes were hollow, with clear eyes-bags underneath them, and his voice… it sounded so dead, with a slight gravel as if he was a walking corpse waiting for the holy one to take him to heaven. Did he really not notice? Or did he just give up on his appearance entirely? Seeing this, the northern side tried to analyze why his older brother seemed so bent out. Was it because his side of the country wasn’t in as good shape as he thought? Did something happen? He had no clue. “I’m fine Italy, now calm down…” Romano mumbled, breaking the younger Italian’s line of thought. Feliciano still had questions, but he didn’t push. He knew that if he tried, it wasn’t going to get him anywhere. So he remained quiet.
Still, the northern part of Italy wasn’t as focused as he was before. He couldn’t help but worry about how disheveled his brother looked.
Romano tried to focus on the meeting. He really did, but his ears couldn’t focus on one thing. He could hear everyone’s voices overlap each other, the heater’s hum, the sounds of a pen clicking, and so much more. It felt like a wave of constant noise. His eyes darted around the room, trying to focus on only one object or sound. Anything… anything to stop the noise. The older brother had hoped for something, but he realized… you can never trust hope. So, he had given up. The noise overwhelmed him, but he wouldn’t act unless he was sure it would work.
He heard small snips of the conversations around him. America complained about his president to Canada, the Southeast Asian countries discussing the severe energy shortages in their areas due to the Iran war, and the European countries were heavily focused on evaluate their major security and economic decisions.
The older Italian glanced to see that his brother was joining the other European countries, sitting next to Germany as he listened in. Romano would have normally joined in on the discussion. However, he felt like would faint any second now. To prevent that, he slowly got up from his chair and made his way out of the conference room. Surprisingly, no one seemed to mind. I mean, they were probably too rapped up in their problems to notice his exit. To be honest, Romano was grateful that they didn’t notice. The hallway was much quieter and peaceful then the conference room. The hazel eyed Italian still wasn’t feeling well, but he continued to make his way around the building.
“Ughh… my head is pounding.” Lovino muttered under his breath, nearly tripping on nothing. “Well, I really should make my way back-“ he was about to finish his sentence. However, his immune system had other plans. He felt a sharp, stabbing sensation run through the left side of his torso. Soon after, stomach acid began to rise up his throat, burning it. Romano had to hold in the vomit, and without a second thought, swallowed it back in.
“Holy shit. I- I didn't think it would get this bad” he stammered.
The older Italian ran as fast as he could. He soon found a restroom just a few feet away. The south quickly made his way inside, vomiting into a sink. The vomit was a yellow tint with a slight hint of red and brown. He could barely process what was happening, he simply ran on instincts. Romano stared at his left hand to see it was rapidly shaking.
“Fuck…” the southern Italy spat.
Even as he made his way back to the conference, his hand wouldn’t stop twitching. That’s odd, normally it would be his breathing, not his hand. His left hand wouldn’t stop fidgeting, his palm opened and closed, each finger jerked as if they had a mind of its own. He did manage to walk back in the meeting, holding his hand down like it was a feral animal he had to put on a leash.
When Romano finally made his way back to his seat, he stared down at his own hand as if it had personal wronged him.
“I hate this… what is wrong with me? I make one small mistake and my whole body goes on meltdown. I- I don’t even know what to do.” The older Italian whispered under his breath, his hazel eyes burning up, his foot nervously bouncing up and down. It seems the other countries didn’t notice, good. Romano didn’t want them to. He wanted this to stay as a private matter.
The southern sides attention was quickly turned to the clock right next to the billboard, 3:36pm.
The meeting ends at 4.
Romano looked back at his hand, still twitching violently. The older Italian examined his hand closely, seeing if there was anything to tell what was going on. Normally he would have just left and figure it out later, but he didn’t want to risk the other nations noticing the situation. Also he left his phone back in Italy by accident. So Romano just reminded seated at his chair, hiding his left hand in his pocket.
xXx
“Alright guys the world conference is over!” A loud obnoxious voice yelped, it was America. Hearing this, the older Italian couldn’t help but to let out a sigh of relief. He dragged his brother Italy by his left shoulder using his right hand, making sure Italy didn’t see the twitching. “Wait fratello! Me and Germany still need to talk!” The younger brother yelped. “Not my problem. We’re going home, it’s so cold over in this cursed country…” Romano sighed, dragging Italy out of the room to quickly head to the airport. To be fair, every country that wasn’t Italy or similar to the pasta loving nation, Romano didn’t like it. Their flight was booked at around 5:00pmish? Romano wasn’t really sure. He just wanted to go home and fix the problem.
Romano insisted on driving, thought he had underestimated the fact that one of his hands wasn’t function properly. The Italians nearly crashed multiple times. Of course, Romano blamed it on himself; like he did with everything. “Fratello?! Are you sure you can drive? You nearly crashed multiple times! I may not be a good driver but it’s better than crashing! ” The younger Italian screeched, trying to reason with his older brother. Romano wanted to argue, to say that he didn’t need his brother to drive the car instead. “Ughh… fine.” The southern Italy sighed. He knew that no matter how much he wanted to fight his brother, he was right. There was no way he could make it home like… this.
The drive was an awkward one… the Italians just sat there as the radio rambled on about something that they couldn’t quite understand.
Romano stared at his left hand, still twitching. He let out an exasperated sigh. Why is it like this? He really did just want to find out what was going on with him, but he didn’t want to concern the younger Italian. Knowing him, he would nervously babbling about how Romano should be sent to the hospital to make sure he’s ok. So, the hazel eyed Italian kept his mouth shut. “You ok fratello? You look really tried.” Feliciano asked. His dark brown eyes had a slight hint of pity. Seeing this, Lovino recoiled in disgust. “I’m perfectly fine you bastard!” The older Italian snarled, “I’m just a bit tired, that’s all.” He quickly added. Ok the “a bit tired” was a bit of an understatement. He felt like he was going to faint any second. His body couldn’t handle the constant pressure, and now… his stupid hand!
They finally made their way to the airport, well barely. The whole boarding process was kinda a blur, the older Italian only knew that he was on the plane.
Romano hated planes. They always gave him these painful headaches and horrible stomach pain. However, it was either flying or going on a boat, and he hated those even more. The motion sickness alone was like hell on earth. His brother however, loved both of them. The hazel eyed brother had no clue how anyone could like those things, but his younger brother adored it. He once again looked at his left hand, still shaking, just as he thought. “Ughh… Odio questi cazzo di piani. (I hate this fucking plane)” Romano sighed.
The flight was only a few hours long, but it felt like an eternity for the older Italian. His left hand that was still being held down shook violently. Romano hated it, he hated how he had to hold down his own hand as if he was a child who couldn’t even control himself. The younger Italian was thankful in another section of plane. So the older Italian could actually have a moment alone with his thoughts. There were a few movies available on the plane, however Lovino didn’t understand a single word that the actors said. “Ughh… I cannot wait to come back to Italy.” He murmured underneath his breath.
“We have arrived at our destination: Rome, Italy!” The flight attendant cheered into her microphone.
Romano couldn’t help but feel grateful. He could finally figure out what’s wrong with him. Well, physically speaking. On the other hand, Lovino wouldn’t stop blaming himself for things out of his control. For example: his people’s emotions, his brother’s ability as a country, the list could go on and on but if I did that the list would be longer than this story. “We’re finally home fratello! Oh how much I missed this place!” Italy squealed, breaking Romano’s lack of focus. “Please stai zitto (shut up) fratello… my head still hurts from that dreadful flight.” The hazel eyed Italian snarled at Italy. “Hey! That was so uncalled for! You really should be nicer to me!” He wailed. Romano just gave him a cold glare as he waited for the Uber to arrive. The warm breeze howled through the air, but Romano still felt cold.
“You must be Feliciano Varges correct?” The uber politely asked.
“Ah yes that’s me! Also will you charge more if I have an extra person? I’m more than willing to pay of course!” Italy rambled.
Ugh not this again. Every time without fail when Romano travels somewhere with his brother. It will take them forever just to go somewhere due to the fact Italy cannot keep his mouth shut for less than 2 seconds. “Hurry up already! I want to go back home.” The hazel eyed Italian snapped at his younger brother. He wasn’t going to be dealing with this for the 4th time in the past 2 days. 1st at the airport, 2nd at the drive to the meeting, and 3rd the drive to a hotel to stay the night. “Oh! I’m so sorry! I’ll try to get there faster!” Italy yelped. The older Italian’s hazel eyes rolled dramatically. As if the northern side could ever keep his mouth shut. “Alright if you do one more annoying conversation with the driver again I will slap you.” He coldly scolded his brother. The younger brother screeched in fear, and quickly made his way inside the car, not making another peep after what Romano said.
Good, now it was just Romano and his thoughts. Well also his hand that was behaving like it was possessed. At this point he might have called an exorcist.
The drive was an awkward one to say the least. Neither of the Italian brothers spoke a single word during the drive, they simply sat in silence as the sound of the car's radiator buzzed in the background. “So…” the younger brother hesitated. “What did you think about the meeting fratello?” He nervously asked, trying his best to break the awkward silence in the uber. “Uhh, it went well.” Romano replied. “Oh… ok.” Italy awkwardly muttered. Well that didn’t go to plan. The younger Italian hoped to have a normal conversation with his older brother, maybe even figure out what was on his mind. Naturally however, Romano had no interest in talking with his brother. He simply wanted to go back into his room.
Sure it was long and exhausting, but they had finally arrived back to their house. It was surprisingly small for a nation. You would think they would live in a massive mansion, however the two Italian’s didn’t enjoy having a living space so abnormally large. So they opted for a more “normalish” home. “Thank you so much for the drive signore! (Sir)” the northern Italian cheered. Romano let out a deep, relieved sigh. “Well come on mío fratello idiota. (My idiot brother) I don’t want to have to deal with your striking up another conversation.” He groaned. “Oh… ok!” Italy hesitated. It was clear Feliciano was catching on to Romano, and he hated that.
Damn it, what did I do? Why is he acting so weird? Is he catching on that I’m hiding something from him? Normally, he would be fighting back so he rambled on like the chatterbox he was. However, he seemed more- ugh what’s the word? Reluctant! Yeah…that seemed to work. “Umm, fratello? Why’d you stop walking?” The brown eyed Italian probed, breaking his brother’s line of thought. He didn’t even realize he stopped moving. “Oh I- I umm…” Romano paused, “Ugh just get inside that house already.” He groaned, pushing his brother with his only functioning hand.
“Well fratello-“ Italy tried to strike up a conversation with his brother, but before he could even speak, Romano had already ran in his room.
Despite their lack of effort in things such as physical exercise, both of the brothers did inherit an impressive amount of strength. Not one that they used often (mainly cause they didn’t realize it) but also due to the fact it was easier not to. They did however use it when they needed to. Like Italy when he was chased by a rogue boar in England. He somehow managed to outrun it, but that’s a story for another day.
“Ok finally.” The hazeled eyed Italian sighed.
Romano went to his desk and opened his laptop. Seems there were a bunch of notifications that were unread, but he didn’t care about them. He opened up Google and searched up his current symptoms. He hoped that it was something simple like high stress levels or something like that. However, it was never that simple for southern Italy. “Chorea.” He whispered under his breath. He remembered that word.
When the older Italian was still a new nation, he would often trip and fall. He didn’t know why, but his leg would bend on its own, causing him to trip. Spain took him to a doctor to figure out what was wrong with the hazel eyed nation, turns out he had an illness that was caused by a severe cause of metabolic issues due to his old habit of sleeping in all day, which stripped him of one of the most important things that is needed to sustain human life: vitamin D. To solve this, Spain forced Romano to work outside more often, which also led to his love for tomatoes. He thought that they cured his illness, but apparently it was simply laying dormant until he was lacking vitamin D again. Well he wasn’t even 100% sure if that’s the reasoning, but he had no other idea on what it could have been.
“Oh dannazione. (God damn it)” Romano hissed under his breath, staring down at his left hand. Still twitching.
He looked at his bed to find his phone connected to a charger. “I have an idea but I don’t want to talk with that bastardo.” Romano groaned. He didn’t really have much of a choice however. He grabbed his phone and dialed the number.
“¡Hey Romano! How 's mí amigó doing?” That way of rolling the R in Romano was partially a watermark, Spain. The older Italian let out a deep sigh. “Look I don’t want to call you, you incompetent bastardo, but…” Lovino paused, "I just need your help with something.” He finally confessed. God to think he needed to ask Spain of all people for help, yet here he was.
“Oh dear, what's wrong!? Did something happen!? Is there a war?!” He yelped through the phone. It was so loud that the older Italian had to pull the phone away from his ear. “Damn you are loud. It’s nothing like that, you idiota. I just have to ask you something.” He muttered, staring down at his left hand. “Can I turn on the FaceTime feature really quickly?” Romano requested. “Uhh, ok I suppose?” The Spaniard replied, still unsure of what the older Italian was planning. Southern Italy placed his phone down on his desk, making sure he looked a little less of a mess then he already was. “Ok now tell me what is going on Romano.” Spain annoyingly demanded. Lovino took in a small breath.
“You remembered how I would always trip on stuff when you took care of me?” Romano recalled. Spain shook his head with a confused expression placed on his face. “Well, I believe I have the illness that caused it again.” He finally confessed, refusing to look at the camera. “Que!?” Spain screeched. Before the Spaniard could continue, the hazel eyed man raised his left hand towards the camera, showing Spain the rapid twitching.
“Normally I would have never asked for your help, but you're the only person that knew I had an illness when I was younger.” Romano stated, his voice slightly quivering.
Spain stayed silent, and it was a deafening one.
xXx
Italy stayed in the kitchen, trying to figure out any recipes he could make- Ok that was a lie- He was actually just thinking about how his brother seemed so down and how he could help. Romano was never really nice, but he never actually meant any harm. That was just the older Italian’s nature, be rude but still care.
He stared off into the distance, planning ways to make his brother feel a little better, or maybe even tell Italy what was wrong.
“I got it! It’s perfect!” Italy cheered.
The younger Italian grabbed his phone from his left pocket to see if he could do the surprise arrangement that he had in store for his older brother. He dialed the unknown number, pressing his phone to his ear as he lowered his voice. “Great! I’ll see if I can go soon!” North Italy cheered. He also called his boss to see if he could make room in his schedule. Thankfully, they were rather stable as a county, so convincing their boss wasn’t that difficult.
The younger brother made his way upstairs.
Romano could hear Italy’s footsteps throughout the thin walls that made up their home. Quickly, he hung up on Spain and fell back on his bed, pretending to be asleep.
“Fratello! I have great news to tell you!” The northern part of Italy beamed with excitement, ramming Romano’s door open.
Romano’s eyes widened. What could Italy be so excited about? Did he see a really beautiful woman? Or maybe even saw Germany in the city? The older Italian groaned. “What is it..?” He muttered under his breath, his brows slightly raised.
“Well our boss just told me that we can go on a little vacation! Is that great fratello!” Italy cheered, he could barely stay still with excitement.
Romano however wasn’t buying it. In fact , it made him more nervous. Did Italy finally catch on? Was he gonna confront Romano about his little secret? Whatever that younger brother was planning, Romano didn’t like it. However, the older Italian couldn’t deny that a vacation sounded nice. A calming trip to France perhaps? “Where are we going then?” Southern Italy politely questioned. Italy perked up at the question. “To Germany!” He cheered.
Romano froze.
Germany? GERMANY?! Out of all the places that were great for travel, he chose Germany… Romano hated the german with a passion beyond anyone’s imagination. I mean, what was there to like? The food was horrible, the cities were overcrowded, and the temperatures particularly were like living in a freezer. Had Italy gotten smacked in the head with a frying pan? It sounded like this was just a fever dream, but Italy’s firm grip on Romano’s right wrist cut that small dream under the rug.