The canal's surface rippled, reflecting the twilight. Two hundred meters east of Piazza San Marco. At the foot of a stone bridge, three figures stood. "[sad]I'm so bored..." Italy hugged their knees on the bench. Their curled brown hair swayed gently in the damp breeze. Even the ahoge on the left side seemed to droop. "[angry]Shut up. That's all you've said for a while now." Romano, sitting beside them, furrowed his brow. He ruffled his dark brown hair roughly, averting his eyes from the canal's surface. "[gentle]But we still have to wait another hour and a half for low tide." Japan spoke quietly. Her glossy black braid swayed faintly. Gently pressing down the sleeve of her kimono, she stood at the canal's edge. Her posture was perfectly straight. There was still time until low tide. The Mermaid's Tear Stone lay at the bottom of the San Marco Canal. It could only be retrieved at the lowest ebb of the once-in-a-century spring tide—at three o'clock this morning. Several hours had already passed since they left England's magic workshop. The city of Venice had few tourists. A single gondola glided silently along the waterway. "[whispers]Coming here... it makes me remember an old friend." Italy murmured. "[surprised]Huh?" Romano gave them a puzzled look. "[sad]His name was Holy Rome. A kid I used to play with, a long, long time ago. I... I really liked him. But before I knew it, he was just... gone." Italy's voice wasn't its usual drawn-out, sweet tone. Their large amber eyes gazed at the distant water. "[sad]It's probably because I was weak, right? Because I couldn't protect him." "[angry]Hey, stop it. That's ancient history." Romano stood up. But his hand, reaching out to pat Italy's shoulder, stopped in mid-air. "[crying]I... this time, I absolutely don't want to lose anyone precious to me. Not Germany, not Japan, not Romano. None of you." Tears rolled down Italy's cheeks. One drop, then another. They tried to smile. But they couldn't. Their lips trembled, and they bit down on them. "[angry]Don't cry, you idiot! Why are *you* the one crying?!" Romano yelled. But his voice was shaking. Unable to look at Italy's face, he turned away. Japan silently offered a handkerchief. "[gentle]Italy-san." "...Thank you." Italy took the handkerchief. The hand wiping away tears trembled slightly. (*If Germany-san were here, he would have known how to speak to them much better.*) Japan thought. In that instant, something pricked deep in her chest. (*Why, now, did his name come to mind?*) Japan lowered her eyes. Memories surfaced, one after another. The moment on the ferry when a sleeping Italy leaned against Germany's shoulder. The scene where Germany draped his own coat over Italy, who was shivering from the cold. That sense of reliability at the service area, when Germany chased off a man hitting on Italy. (*I am jealous, aren't I?*) She murmured quietly in her heart. (*The kindness Germany-san shows Italy-san. I've seen it, time and time again. So why... why now?*) Japan lifted her face. She gently adjusted the collar of her kimono. Her expression didn't change. But deep within her black eyes, something flickered faintly. "[gentle]When Italy-san cries, it makes me sad too." Saying that, she smiled quietly. (*I won't tell anyone about this feeling yet. As long as he is watching Italy-san, there is no room for me to enter.*) --- Meanwhile, in the Alps. The climbing trail of Mount Edelmont. They were past an altitude of two thousand meters. Three figures ascended a slope where snow still lingered. "[serious]Hurry. We only have three hours until the full moon." Germany, walking at the front, looked back. His slicked-back blond hair was slightly disheveled with sweat. The shoulders of his straining one-piece dress creaked with every step of the climb. "[laughing]Germany, how about a little break? The altitude is bad for my skin." The beautiful young man, France, said as he swept back his platinum blond hair. "[serious]I'm telling you, there's no time for that." "[sarcastic]But you know, your heart doesn't seem to be in this. You keep looking in the direction of Venice." France grinned. "[angry]I am not looking!" A vein throbbed on Germany's temple. "[sarcastic]Aren't you worried about Italy? That kid cries a lot, right? Someone needs to be by their side." "[angry]Japan and Romano are there. It's not a problem." "[sarcastic]But *you* want to be by their side, don't you? Why do you think that is?" Germany's feet stopped. (*Why am I so concerned about Italy?*) He asked himself. (*Because I have to protect them. That idiot has a hopelessly low ability to defend themself. Someone has to be there.*) "[serious]It's a natural responsibility. We're on the same team." "[sarcastic]Ah, let's leave it at that, then. But you know, Germany, even the way you get angry is directed right at Italy. You don't get angry like that at people you dislike." France pressed the attack. "[angry]Don't say unnecessary things!" Germany shouted. That's when it happened. *Crunch.* The snow beneath France's feet gave way. "Whoa!" The beautiful young man lost his balance. "[cold]Watch your step." Germany grabbed France's arm and pulled him up. "[laughing]Falling beautifully is also part of art. Thank you, Germany." France laughed, unshaken. Then, he spoke to Austria, who was walking behind them. "[serious]Still, Germany is stubborn. Don't you think so too, Austria?" Austria sighed wordlessly. "[sarcastic]Look, how many times do I have to tell you that idle chatter during a climb just wastes energy?" France said, mimicking Austria's tone. "[cold]Enough. Let's just climb quickly. If we miss the blooming of the Moonlight Flower, we'll be stuck like this for twenty-eight days." Germany quickened his pace again. (*I hope Italy isn't crying.*) Deep in his heart, he found himself thinking that. (*Why am I so concerned? That idiot is just a teammate. Nothing more, nothing less.*) But France's question wouldn't leave his mind. --- Venice. "[excited]It's here! Low tide!" Italy shouted. The canal's water level dropped rapidly. The bottom of the San Marco Canal began to emerge from beneath the dark surface. Three meters deep. The Tear Stone could only be retrieved at this moment, when the tide was at its absolute lowest. "[serious]Romano-san, please." Japan said with a serious expression. Romano was in charge of the dive. "[whispers]............" Romano stood at the canal's edge, motionless. "[surprised]Romano? What's wrong?" Italy tilted their head. Romano's face was deathly pale. "[whispers]I... can't do it." "[surprised]Huh?" "[scared]The water... it's deep. I can't. I can't go in." Romano's voice trembled. "[scared]Romano?! Don't tell me... you're scared of water?!" "[angry]Shut up! Don't say it!" Romano yelled. But his feet wouldn't take a single step forward. The time limit was now under three hours. The next low tide would be in twenty-eight days—and the full moon's light was only tonight. A hopeless situation. "[surprised]Wha... what do we do...? Someone has to dive in his place. But... I can't really swim that well..." Italy began to panic. "[angry]Don't tell anyone about my weakness! Especially not France! If that bastard finds out, I'll be teased for a hundred years!" Romano shouted, his face bright red. It was then. "[gentle]I will dive." A quiet voice rang out. It was Japan. "[surprised]Huh... Japan?" Italy turned around. Japan placed her hands on her kimono's obi. With a soft rustle, the sash came undone. "[gentle]The Venice team has three members. If one cannot move, the remaining two simply do the job." Her tone was calm. But in those black eyes, a strong resolve dwelled. (*This is my battle.*) Japan thought in her heart. (*Now, with Germany-san not here, I must act. This is no time to be crushed by my emotions.*) "[scared]Japan, are you okay? The water's cold!" "[gentle]I am accustomed to it." Japan smiled. She removed her kimono, now in her under-kimono. She retied her long black braid tightly. (*If Germany-san saw this scene, what kind of face would he make?*) For a moment, the thought crossed her mind. (*No. I must focus now.*) Japan stood at the canal's edge. She took one deep breath. And then, she quietly dove toward the dark water. *Splash.* Water sprayed up, and ripples spread. "[scared]Japan...!" Italy clasped their hands tightly and stared. "[angry]I'm the lookout! If anyone comes, I'll chase them off!" Romano declared a role no one had asked him to take, fidgeting as he looked around. "[angry]Romano, cheer her on!" "[angry]Shut up! Be quiet!" The water's surface was silent. Time flowed slowly. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds—. "[scared]Japan... isn't she taking too long...?" Italy's voice trembled. Ten seconds. Fifteen seconds. (*Please, be safe.*) Italy clasped their hands as if in prayer. —*Splash!* Japan surfaced. "[surprised]Japan!" "[gentle]I retrieved it." In Japan's hand was a small stone. A pale, bluish-white glowing stone shaped like a teardrop—the Mermaid's Tear Stone. "[excited]You did it! You did it, Japan!" Italy jumped for joy. Japan climbed onto the shore. Having emerged from the cold water, she was shivering slightly. "[excited]Japan, are you okay?! You'll catch a cold!" Italy hurriedly removed their own scarf and wrapped it around Japan's shoulders. "[gentle]Thank you, Italy-san." Japan smiled. But deep in her heart, a small voice whispered. (*If it had been Germany-san, I wonder if he would have warmed me up more skillfully.*) She immediately dismissed the thought. (*No. I must not think such things.*) "[excited]Alright, that's one ingredient secured! Now we just need the Moonlight Flower from the Alps and the Fairy Spring Water from England!" Italy had regained their energy. The remaining time was about two and a half hours. The Venice team hurriedly set off for England's magic workshop. --- The Alps, altitude 2,780 meters. "[serious]We've arrived. The Moonlight Flower colony." Germany stopped walking. On a rocky ledge on the north face, about thirty silver-white buds grew in a cluster. The Moonlight Flower—a legendary alpine plant that would only bloom when bathed in the light of a full moon. Germany looked up at the night sky. The full moon was beginning to peek over the mountain ridge. "[serious]Just a little longer until they bloom." "[sarcastic]Germany, did you put on your leather gloves properly? Touching them with bare hands will give you frostbite." "[serious]I know." "[laughing]Come to think of it, when we get back, make sure you talk to Italy properly, okay?" "[angry]What are you talking about?" "[sarcastic]The answer you came up with. The answer to 'why you're so concerned about Italy.'" Germany didn't answer. He just took one step forward. The Moonlight Flower buds, bathed in the full moon's light, slowly began to open. With each petal that unfurled, one after another, the silver-white light grew stronger. The time limit was drawing closer, moment by moment.