It was at a concert when America, sitting in the front row and only pretending to be interested, first understood the importance of classical music to Canada.
His younger brother was sitting up ramrod straight, but his eyes were shut, and his head was bowing every so often when the notes were particularly sweet.
America tried to pay attention; he didn't want Canada to know he was bored. He watched the violinists' bows jump back and forth over the strings and the movements of the conductor's hands, but he kept fidgeting and wasn't able to concentrate.
The first song ended. Canada sighed deeply and opened his eyes.
"That was beautiful," he said. America was surprised to see how bright his eyes were shining.
"You really like this, don't ya, little bro?" America observed.
"Yeah," Canada said softly. "Ever since I was little, France has been taking me to concerts like these."
The next song began, and Canada immediately stopped talking as the music began again.
America tried again to listen properly, but he just couldn't concentrate. He envied Canada's ability to sit still for the five minutes the waltz lasted.
Once the song ended, Canada again sighed heavily before opening his eyes. He turned to look contentedly at his brother only to see America looking very distressed.
"America, what's wrong?" Canada asked. "Do you not like the music?"
America shrugged. "It's not really my thing, but…" He frowned. "I wish I could enjoy the music like you do."
"Really?" Canada asked. "You want to enjoy it like me, eh?"
America nodded sheepishly; Canada smiled.
"Close your eyes," he whispered, putting his hand on America's.
Throughout the next song, Canada whispered instructions in America's ear, squeezing his hand to emphasize his points. With each swirling crescendo, each dramatic roll of the timpani, each trill of the flute, Canada explained the feelings he felt, helping America to feel them too. Finally, as the music slowed and ended on a low, sweet chord, Canada patted America's hand.
"You can open your eyes now," he said.
America sighed heavily, then opened his eyes.
"Did you feel it?" Canada asked hesitantly.
"Nope," America said.
Canada's shoulders slumped in disappointment, but then he felt America's hand on his.
"But don't think I didn't appreciate it."
Author's Note: This was written at my future sister-in-law's band concert; I didn't mean to write an America/Canada story, but suddenly, I just saw them there. Hope you enjoyed.