A/N: I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'd be honored if you'd read a review when you're done, be it to tell me whether or not you liked it or to give me tips/ideas... Anyways, I just wanted to look at the character Canada a little bit more, since he seems so annoyed at being left behind... It's rated T for possibility of language, and there is a little bit (VERY LITTLE) of USUK in later chapters... So, you've been warned!


"Dude! Is your country always like this in the winter? All cold and stuff?" Alfred grinned, his jeans sopping wet from the snow he was trudging through alongside his brother. A polar bear walked behind them quietly. White flakes swirl and float to the ground slowly.

"Yes, in most places," Canada nodded. He looked up and noticed his older sibling wasn't wearing a coat, just a white shirt. "America, you should really put a jacket on, it's cold out here-"

"Nah, it's okay, bro!" America said, cutting him off. "I don't need a coat, I'm way to badass for that. Besides, you don't need a coat, so why would I?"

"Because I'm used to the cold weather up here-" the Canadian started, only to be cut off yet again by his brother.

"Whatever, dude. It's too late for me to get a coat now, you should've reminded me before we left."

"You're going to catch a cold, Alfred-" Matthew replied, but to no avail. Even in the silence of the snow-covered field, the only sound that could be heard was the sound of America talking.

"A cold? Bro, there's no way I'm gonna get a cold."


"You should've put on the jacket when I told you to, America," Canada murmured, waving a medical thermometer in America's direction so that he could see the numbers it had come up with. The man was burning up.

"What are you, my mother?" Alfred groaned, rolling his eyes. "Besides, you told me it wasn't a cold, it was the flu."

"That's worse!" Canada retorted.

"But, it does mean I was right, bro," the older brother grinned. Shortly afterwards, he curled into a ball and began to whine like a little kid, "Ahhh, my stomach hurts... dude, it feels like it's going to explode..."

Matthew sighed and turned away, mumbling, "I'll go get you a pill."

The younger blonde knew he should have tried harder to get his sibling to wear a coat yesterday, but it probably would have just been a pointless argument that still would have ended up in the southern nation overpowering his northern neighbor. Earlier that morning, America had called Canada. The older country wanted his 'little bro' to come over and 'take care of him'. Matthew hadn't necessarily been quick to say yes. He loved his brother, sure, but the two just didn't get along- mostly because America never let Canada do any talking. In the end, the Canadian gave in and promised to keep his brother company. The other countries had yet to be informed of their American friend's illness, but Canada hoped to take care of that later today at the World Meeting.

Matthew pulled a box of tablets from his brother's medicine cabinet, and began to read the label as he walked back towards his sibling's room. It wasn't long before he drifted back into his thoughts.

Telling everybody at the World Meeting wasn't a good idea after all, once the blonde thought it through. He was never noticed; not even in the slightest. His life was pretty much all staying in America's shadow. He had been hoping (guiltily so) that Alfred's absence might result in him becoming a more important part of the group of countries, but that in itself was unlikely. Nobody noticed him, and that was that. Being the ghost of the world was just his thing, the whole reason he existed, in his own opinion.

"America, take two of these and you should feel better," Matthew said, handing his brother two pink tablets of medicine.

"Thanks, Canadia." Alfred grinned, shoving the pills in his mouth. Canada shrugged and decided not to even try to correct the mispronunciation of his name. With a glance down at his watch, the man realized he needed to go to the World Meeting. America glanced at his own clock and came to the same realization.

"Just tell everybody why I'm not there, okay? They're going to miss me!" Alfred smiled.

"Okay, I'll try," Matthew nodded, leaving the room. He walked down the hallway and sighed, knowing nobody was going to realize he was even at the meeting.

Then, out of nowhere, the strangest idea hit the Canadian.

"Everyone always mistakes me for America," he mused aloud, though quiet enough that his brother couldn't hear. "And it's not like they'd notice me being gone if America were there... so, maybe, just for today... I could be Alfred."

Just for one day, he could act and dress like his older brother, and be noticed by everyone for once. What could go wrong? He turned to the mirror beside him, ruffling his hair around a bit. It was a noticeably different shade of blond then that of his brother, but he could blame that on the light or hair dye or something. The problem was its length. The Canadians hair was too long to be like the American's...

Within minutes the man was in the bathroom with scissors in his hands. He took hold of the first strand he intended to cut, a stray, curly hair that wound its way in front of his face.

"France is going to kill me if he ever finds out I'm doing this..." Matthew groaned, closing the sharp scissor blades with a quiet snap. The curly hair dropped to the floor. He quickly continued with the rest. Heck, he was already running late.

The glasses weren't a problem. Anyone would overlook a Canada's somewhat circular rims compared to America's square ones. But eye color... that was going to be an issue.

"Contacts," he thought. "I'll just get some blue contacts at the store on my way to the meeting. Yes, that's perfect. And a white shirt, like America always wears, I've already got that on..." Canada raised a hand to his face.

"Ah, Maple! I forgot about that stupid bomber jacket America's always got on... maple, maple, maple! He's wearing that right now! Where am I supposed to get another one?"

This was a stupid idea, Canada knew it. He didn't have any idea why he was so determined to disguise himself as someone he had been trying so hard to break away from. He smiled; it was kind of ironic to say the least. In the end, the man knew that the only reason he was doing this was because he was sick of being unimportant, and that was that. If becoming his brother was the only way to stand out, than so be it.

By now, Matthew knew he was going to be really late. He'd have to worry about the jacket some other time, should he ever decide to do this again. He did need a coat of some sort, though. He may be practically immune to cold, but being around a sick person all day made him worry whether or not going around outside in the could without a jacket was a good idea. He had been in a rush to come to America's house this morning, so he hadn't taken his sweatshirt with him.

"I could borrow one of Americas," Canada smiled. "It'll complete the look, and I'm sure he won't mind."

With that, the man opened up the door to the hall closet. With an annoyed sigh, he became aware of its contents.

At least thirty other bomber jackets, ready for America whenever he needed to get rid of his current one.

"Great, I guess that's just what I was looking for," the Canadian nodded, putting one on with a flourish. In an attempt to look like his brother, the blonde spun around and winked at himself in the mirror, giving himself a thumbs-up.

"I'm the hero!" he said loudly, in his most confidant voice possible. The act was going to need some work, but so far so good. With a nod of approval at what he considered a flawless costume, the Canadian turned around and walked out the door.


A/N: How was that? I realize it was probably really OOC, but, oh well. I hope you all liked this first chapter, sorry it's so short. If you guys like it, I'd be happy to write more!

Kumajirou: He didn't even notice me... just walked away and left me with America...