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Racing Memories

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Chapter 1: world meetings

Her name was Byzantine. His name is Italy Romano, and they share the same body, mind and soul, forever hidden, forever stolen and in a never ending loop of pain and memories that are whitewashed but as clear as glass and as delicate as such object. Romano sat in the midst of chaos. Countries screaming, talking, fighting or flirting where everywhere, and whether or not they realised it, only a few brave souls where trying to get everyone quiet, but with no success. After he watched Canada try to catch America's attention for the third time that morning he finally decided to speak up..

But then again he could just wait a bit more.. America, he realised, had started closing in, a dangerous mix of stupidity and bad replicas of his food. He hissed slightly, his green eyes glaring menacingly at him, to no avail. In reality it was just a friendly (although overly so) country coming over to say hi, but in the mixed areas of his minds all he could see was the enemy, a Crusader, getting closer and closer. panic began to rise in his stomach and the ghost of a searing pain went all across his body, the feeling of Constantinople being attacked over and over again. by the time America had reached him and tapped him on the shoulder the Italian's Post Traumatic Stress Disorder attack had passed he was left angry, in pain and scared.

"yo what's up dude!?"

he glared at the male, who looked so much like.. like.. like him. like the person who had hurt him.

"che, what do you-a want Burger Bastard?"

what really made things worse, was that just like him, America had hurt him too, during the 1880's he had to immigrate to his country, and America had treated him and his people like dirt. sure, he apologized and later on helped him out, but what had been done, was done. Romano was the one who paved many of the streets in America, Romano was the reason why so many buildings stood proudly, Romano built up America and he poured all his work and heart into it, only to get thrown aside, and to get attacked during the second World War. Sure, it should be normal, as they were countries. Taking, Killing and Expanding, but something upon the way America behaved and treated him in all the years they had known of their existence hurt him more than anything. how could those baby blue eyes look so innocent over all the pain and misery they had looked over?


he jumped, startled.

"WAHh.. what the fuck do you want?!"

the blonde smiled.

"i wanted to know if you were okay, since you looked kinda odd"

thoughts raced through his head, alternating between A bittersweet feeling that the male had cared enough to come over, to an annoyed and angry feeling towards himself for giving something away and finally sadness and jealousy for he probably only came over after being nagged by the easily annoyed British man across the table, currently fighting with France.

"hmph, why would you-a care?"

the cheerful male shrugged.

"i always care, you simply never notice.. also England sent me to check up on you."

"Well. I'm-a just fine, all that food you-a eat must have finally started hitting your-a brain then"

His face seemed to have fallen, although only momentarily. Had he gotten upset that Romano had said that? A female voice in the back of his head screamed that, no, he simply was upset he hadn't risen to the bait.

"Aw, Roma, that's not cool!"

He glared at the strong male.

"I don't care. Leave me alone, and don't call me that!"

The male cocked his head and sat to the seat on his right, the left occupied by a sleeping and surprisingly catless Greece. Spain had gone over to talk to France his own brother preferred to sit next Germany, rather than himself. But he didn't care. No, not all. Who would want the two few people close to them to not want to sit with themselves?

Obviously not Romano. He turned to watch the westerner, a flash of a battlefield covered in red came and left his mind, and a metallic taste lingered his nose and mouth. It soon went away and back was the blue eyed male, staring at him.

"So. Why can't i call you Roma?"

He winced, although it was barely noticable, the name bringing back bad memories.

"Just-a don't. It's something I-a don't want to get into."

America just shrugged, sensing much discomfort from himself.

"It's chill. Can i give you a nickname though?"

He wrinkled his nose slightly in distaste but nodded. Anything to pass the time till the blonde German blew a fuse.

"How about.. Ro-Ro?!

The name. Surprisingly didn't make a single click in his memories. It was fresh, new and although now it seemed as an obvious nickname he was surprised it was never used on himself or her. speaking of her, she seemed confused towards the name and seemed to have shut up.

" I guess you-a can call me that.."

The childish man hooted and clapped excitedly getting him a few eyerolls and a few stares.

"Che! Calm down you blubbering idiot!"

The other simply grinned.

"Neveer! Romano finally accepted one of my nicknames!"

I was about to answer when England stood up. A stressed out Germany looked at him in surprise, and I'm guessing he was on the verge of yelling at them all.

"America, you git come here!"

The shorter male glared at the taller, hands on hips and the room fell into momentary silence.

"Why should I?"

The jade eyes looked stuck for a few seconds.

"Because.. I order you to!"

A more tense silence fell across. England rarely told America to do something, unless it was important.

"Why thoooo"

The shorter male looked more annoyed now. He took out a long stick and a loud gasp followed by a small more subdued gasp followed. Everyone looked confused.

"America. I have to tell you something very important. Only you. If you don't come I'll make you!"

Said country frowned slightly.

"You can't make me do anything! I do what i want biatch!"

A few facepalms came through.

"England. Nei."

Eyes turned to Norway, who's face looked as stoic as ever but his navy blue eyes gave a slight view of panic.
Romania stood up.

"Yeah, Nor is right, Nu, you recently learned it. Anything could go wrong!"

It was like watching an intense tennis match. He himself was watching with wide eyes, pushing aside her radical views to watch everything work out.

"I don't care!"

He pointed the wand at America who put his hands up.

"turn temporis affectum redirent unit animas unum et indissolubili potest venire ad over et ratio potentior modo communi voluntate virtutis atque illis redire consensum negare durum inveniet!!"

I looked at him and he looked so powerful.. Like. Like someone i used to know.. Who used to protect me. As a white beam came from the stick all i could feel was adoration, albeit momentarily, i couldn't ever possibly like the grumpy old man.. But back to the matter at hand. America instinctively got away, and the beam found a new target.

Me and Greece. The moment it hit a loud bang resonated the room and all i saw was white. Then her voice got louder, louder and louder.

"Hello's great to see me again"

The female stood before me, floating. My hand reached out without my permission and she paired her palm with mine.

"What is happening?!"

She smiled sadly.

"We will find out soon enough"

And then everything went from white to black.