A/N: I'm back! With more Hetalia, of course. Which I do not own. It's only my sandbox.
"This is bear-speak."
Some easily forget their pasts.
Part I: First Impressions
He didn't notice the mumblings, not at first. Adult matters were of no importance to him at that age, and he had no desire to start early. It was when he heard a strange squalling did he become aware. The escalating murmurs and commotion finally caught his full attention.
From the pieces of conversation he could catch, somebody had come back with a strange thing. Another had said that it was a who, a living, breathing, thinking creature. Of course, no matter how much he demanded, "What what what?" nobody would tell him himself what exactly happened.
He almost lost it when the innocent Iqaluk looked askance at the small cub. He paused to carefully think over his choice of words before answering. "Noclaw cub Anuri town lost."
He squealed with excitement. A noclaw! Nobody ever let him see one, and here was his chance! He scrambled to his paws and bounded forward to follow Iqaluk. He didn't get far before a sharp swat to his rump sent him sprawling forward.
"Nuvujaq! Danger careful you hurt danger danger stay!" Nuvujaq slowly twisted around so he could see his anaana's face, cringing away from her biting tone.
He pouted. If what their pack-mate had said was correct, then the noclaw would be no danger at all as a cub, especially with all the bears undoubtedly gathered around it. "Safe careful yes yes, go?" After a never-ending staring match, she reluctantly nodded with a huff.
Joy echoed throughout his whole being as he bounced and shoved and slid around much bigger paws, eyes only for clueless Iqaluk. Many of them snarled at his impudence, which he easily ignored.
The sole cub of the pack halted at the edge of the crowd, having lost sight of his guide. He paced around for a while, searching for an opening. No matter what he did, whether poking his head between paws or stretching up on his hind-legs, he couldn't break through the live barrier. He plopped down tiredly with a pout on his face.
Finally, an old yet authoritative growl rose over the cacophony of writhing ursine. "Enough!" That was all it took for them all to stop and back away for the elder, revealing the noclaw.
He took in as much information as he could from watching the peculiar animal. It had no fur except for a patch of yellow on his head. Its skin was as pale as the snow beneath its paws. A thin pelt hung around his thinner frame. Nuvujaq couldn't help but wonder how the noclaw survived the arctic cold without a thicker pelt. Or fur. It was small, smaller than the adults surrounding it and only slightly bigger than himself.
He didn't notice the elder, their leader, brushing past him, engrossed was he in observing the creature.
A very familiar scent wreathed around him, its source coming from behind. He had no time to leap out of the way before he felt jaws closing around his scruff. The mannerisms were very anaana-like. She shook her head as he squirmed in her grasp, protesting, "Let go! Let go let go let go let go!"
Her grip loosened, dropping him to the ground, only for two large paws to wrap around him and secure him in place. "Later. Listen Elder quiet hush hush later." His protesting grumbles went unheard, so he settled for closing his ears and glaring holes in the ground.
When the grip around him fell and the elder had decreed that his anaana the caretaker of this strange creature, he took the opportunity to greet his new anni, tripping over his own paws in his haste. They were almost nose to nose before he deemed himself close enough. He didn't seem to mind their proximities anyway.
"Hi! Nuvujaq me you we pack."
The noclaw responded with burbles and giggles. "I Matthew!"
"Matthew." He loved it.
Part II: Brothers Forever
Nuvujaq catapulted himself away from their anaana, accidentally-on-purpose disturbing his still contentedly sleeping sibling. The messy nest of honey blond hair shot up in alarm, before its owner relaxed. Bear-like growls worked in his throat. "Early, Nuvujaq, anaana angry," he warned.
The polar bear looked back with a grimace and a shake of the head. "No no no, cubs!" One she-bear, Auja, had recently given birth to two cubs, one a male and the other a female. Imiq and Nuna, respectively.
Matthew rolled his eyes. He had been waiting for this, for this explosive energy that came with the newborns and the joy of not being the youngest (Matthew did not count). There were many a day when he had been awoken in that same fashion just to find out it was a false alarm. Sometimes, he wondered if maybe his brother actually knew, and just did it for fun. It wouldn't surprise him if his suspicions were right.
Said cub was still there, waiting for his anni's reaction. "Come!" He groaned and reluctantly complied.
His slow movements only seemed to aggravate Nuvujaq, who stomped towards him to push his anni forward, making him almost fall over. "Hurry hurry cubs hurry you slow!" This didn't faze Matthew, only growling back at the cub in amused irritation.
"Foolish anni sorry," the child snapped back. He still didn't go any faster, much to Nuvujaq's displeasure.
It took far longer than the older of the two had hoped to arrive at the den, but when they did, the more assertive one barked a greeting inside, warranting an immediate response.
Two white bundles launched themselves from Auja's side into the older cubs. Nuvujaq was big enough that he wouldn't topple over from the surprise attack, but Matthew was, and did, laughing all the way.
Nuna sniffed at that strange yellow fur atop her pack-mate's head and wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Matthew noclaw!" she cried fearfully. With that proclamation, she scuttled away. Imiq did likewise, and they cowered away from the bewildered child.
Tears pooled in those sky-blue eyes. Nuvujaq closed his eyes to shield himself from his anni's secret weapon. True to his predictions, a quiet sob permeated the air. More followed, growing heavier and heavier until his own brotherly instincts took over and rushed him to comfort Matthew. Many of the older bears threw dirty looks to the unintended instigators, while their mother drew them back into the den. All this, Nuvujaq ignored.
"Hush brother mine. Matthew mine. Matthew pack."
Glittering indigo eyes met black, and his cries slowly quietened. "I not bear. I not pack." It was soft and lilting in the bears' language, something unique to this noclaw-bear. He loved it. It was what made Matthew, Matthew. But the utter sadness and despair and conviction of one who's beliefs have been ripped and stomped on and shattered, this was something he needed to fix.
He took the short and blunt approach. "Yes. No."
"What?" Clear confusion bled into Matthew's wobbly tone.
Nuvujaq shut his eyes against the sudden scene of that tiny flame of hope flickering out of existence. "Matthew noclaw." His heart squeezed at the hitching gasp. "Yes." Just to make sure he understood.
Matthew pushed at him, screamed at him, tears renewed. Nuvujaq's paws encircled the small boy, denying him the escape he craved. He leaned forward until their foreheads touched to get his hysterical brother's attention. "Matthew pack. Matthew anni."
Part III: Goodbye
He could feel eyes on him. Made him itch and burn and squirm under his fur. It gave him a sense of dread, of doom, and made him overprotective of Matthew.
What made it worse was the scent that seemed to cling to him, stifle him. Just when he thought he had gotten rid of it, it would be on his brother. It scared him, that smell of burnt fish and roses intermingling into truly horrific abomination
His brother, on the other hand, was either oblivious or impervious to the stink, although he never had that profound sense that the rest of his - their - pack had. Instead, he carried on with his regular schedule of play and dragging him along. Now that he thought about it, nobody seemed to smell it.
The polar bear snapped back to reality in time to hear his sibling's whining. "Nuvujaq, snow-brain play!" He couldn't help but roll his eyes at his antics, his incessant need to ignore all but him. Yes, he thought the same way, but Matthew was much, much worse. Maybe he was just being hypocritical.
Not even one step forward, when that stench seemed to suddenly grow fouler and engulf them all. It combined with an ominous crunch of snow instead of the soft thump of ursine paws. Fervently, he hoped and wished and believed with all his might, that he was imagining things again.
His was the first of many heads to look up and see the approaching humans. He was the first to try and hide Matthew, their intended target, the only noclaw there, the cub that had been missing for a long time now. This, of course, didn't do much, Matthew was already much bigger than himself. Once the other bears had figured out what the humans wanted, they too surrounded Matthew in a protective circle.
The one that smelled of fire stepped forward aggressively, as if he expected them to just give their cub back. He had been abandoned by noclaws, and had been claimed by the pack. In their minds, he was rightfully theirs, and they had no right to meddle. It was this thought that made them more defensive, made them huff and growl and stomp their feet. In the middle of them all, Matthew clung to Nuvujaq like that time oh so many sun-cycles ago.
The fiery noclaw seemed to get the message at last and backed off, forepaws in the air in submission. Unintelligible noises left his mouth, but none of them could understand it. Nevertheless, they relaxed. As long as he kept his distance - or just gave up - then they had no problem with him.
Until another ran up.
One that smelled of roses.
Nuvujaq had to keep himself from leaping forward in rage and horror. It was them, them and their terrible aroma. Something writhed inside him, screaming to attack, to protect, to keep the monsters away from his not-so-little brother. He couldn't tell who was who anymore, excepting their eyes. One a sickly thaw-season green, the other a dangerous sky-blue (much, much different from his brother's). Both had the same yellow fur his precious Matthew did, albeit with different styles.
And his heart seemed to drop when Sky-Blue held out something, and Matthew reacted. Indigo orbs were instantly drawn to it like a moth to light and he let go of his fur and no no no, where was he going?
He watched, frozen, stuck in his paralyzing trance. Watched as Matthew took his hand, watched as Sickly-Green ruffled his hair, as his pack did nothing to stop them from taking his Matthew, their Matthew. Watched as he looked back at them, happy as can be, waving what they had learned was interpreted as goodbye.
The last thing he remembered of him was the fact that he still walked on four paws instead of two, and that gives him a faint glimmer of satisfaction, he does not belong to them.
Part IV: Reunion
The next time Nuvujaq saw his brother, the noclaw was considerably taller. And had an overdramatic identical twin. He made him glad he had come alone.
He long since left his pack, his reason being that he wanted and needed his independence. Of course, that hadn't been the true reason, and he suspected the elder knew that too. Either way, they let him go with much adoration and little fuss.
He had still been young and impulsive, quick to hide in noclaw denning areas, and not as quick on his feet as he liked to think. There had been too many close calls for him to not have learned better.
Now here he was, his reason for leaving fulfilled. With two Matthews. One in disbelief and the other completely flipping out over a wild "Bear-Dude!"
The things he did for his no-fun brother.
At first, he was confused. Two Matthews? But then he looked closer and saw little details, ones that showed who was who. One smelled of maple and sugar; the same scent that he had been looking for. The other smelled overpoweringly of sweets, making his nose twitch in disgust. One had gentle indigo eyes, the other had deep blue eyes, ones that threatened to take you in and swallow you up, eerily reminding him of one of his brother's captors.
He already hated the doppelgänger.
It was worth it though, just to hear his quiet voice again. "Nuvu- Nuvujaq?" And the rhythmical growls that were music to his ears. He barely remembered to nod, so in awe was he.
A new voice broke their thoughts. "Uhhh, what did you say, Mattie?" It was grating on his ears, loud and rough and clearly hyperactive.
"Alfie, this is Nuvujaq," he explained, unaware of his slip back into ursine. "And Nuvujaq, you haven't grown at all!" Alfred-Matthew had a look of bafflement, one that said, 'What is happening?"
But what he had said was true. Ever since he had met Matthew, he felt like he hadn't grown at all, his body opting to stay at its cub-size. It frustrated him, to say the least, brought him trouble the few times he had run into aggressive or territorial polar bears.
"I get that you knew this dude before, but maybe you should give him an... understandable name? In English? Or something that isn't a bunch of grumbles and growls?"
Both gave him a deadpan look, one muted and one peeved. "Fine, Alfred. What about... Kumajiro?"
Two loud, simultaneous, "What?" attacked his eardrums from both sides. Alfred was clearly incredulous, Nuvujaq-Kumajiro doubtful. Matthew could be surprisingly forgetful, and that name sounded like something he would forget.
Matthew shrugged and scratched his head. "Y'know, Kumajiro. Japanese for polar bear. Fits, right?"
Alfred sighed. "I dunno, man."
Nuvujaq-Kumajiro pouted, detesting the fact that they were talking about him, and he was right there! "I'm still here," he whined.
"He can talk?"
The polar bear sighed and shook his head. "Fool-Alfred."
Matthew sniggered.
Part V: Who are you?
Small, glittering beads of white lit up the twilight sky overhead, providing meagre light. A biting wind blew, unrelenting to all, creating puffs of snow, the only movement on the tundra. As far as the eye could see, great expanses of that powder stretched far and wide, with the occasional drift here and claw-like spire there. There was almost no sign of life, the only one being him. Turning around, he concluded there were also the decidedly noclaw footprints.
He looked closer and realized there were two sets; one of a small noclaw, and the other of an equally small polar bear, intertwined, although the bear's led straight to him, while the other went the opposite way. 'Who?' Curiosity twisted inside him, and he abruptly turned and followed the prints. If he squinted, he could almost see a small two-legged figure.
An unseen force seemed to pull him towards the silhouette, and he had no choice but to comply. His breaths shortened and shallowed into heaving gasps as he pushed himself to go faster and faster. Yet no matter what he did, no matter how fast he went, it seemed to get farther and farther away. "Wait! Come back!"
The cushioned softness shook beneath him, rousing him from his slumber. A grumble was the only reaction he gave, as he didn't feel much inclined to get up anytime soon. Rarely did he wake up without immediately wanting food, and he was set on exploiting that as much as possible. It was even rarer that he had dreams, although he never remembered them afterwards, and he had an inexplicable want to get back to it.
Unfortunately, it seemed that his body didn't want anymore rest.
He kept his eyes closed until he heard the water running in the bathroom, then chose that time to stumble onto his paws. The room had barely swum into focus before he jumped/fell off the high platform and onto the (thankfully) carpeted floor.
He ambled out of the room, past the bathroom, and into the kitchen to wait for his master, hunger yet again being the only thought in his mind. He already knew better than to try and get food himself. His sore head was testament to that.
Beady black eyes darted from the slowly ticking clock to the hallway to the clock again, slowly growing impatient. 9:15, the little polar bear padded back towards the bathroom and scraped his paw down the wood. Numerous marks like the most recent littered the door. "Hungry!" No answer. He huffed and went back to the kitchen to observe the clock. 9:19 was when he heard Matthew coming.
He glared at his favorite person for taking so long. "I'm hungry," he repeated.
Matthew smiled apologetically. "Sorry, Kuma. You want pancakes? I know I do." The man proceeded to pull out the mix, not even bothering to wait for an answer. This was their morning tradition.
He stared at him irritatedly. He would happily answer to any name he had been given, except for nicknames or Alfred-names. He had a special hate for Kuma. 'Either call me Kumajiro or Nuvujaq, but not Kuma.' As payback, he asked, "Who are you?"
Those violet-blue orbs he loved so much flashed behind his newly-acquired glasses. "I'm Canada! You know, the guy who's lived with you since infancy, the guy who feeds you? Maple, you'd think you'd remember." Thin humor messily coats the shock and sadness underneath.
Now he's confused. He only knows a Matthew, never this 'Canada.' The furry face crumpled in bewilderment. "Who?"
Canada sighed and shook his head. "Never mind."
He knows Matthew was sensitive. He knows the others have recently started ignoring him. He knows that this would hurt Matthew. But this man had the foolish idea that he was Canada, but he wasn't, he was Matthew, and he needed to understand that, needed to learn. If he wanted to be Canada, he needed to put up with their ignorance until he decided to be Matthew again.
Others do not.
A/N: Yes. I've fallen in love with Kumajiro's and Canada's relationship, and ta-da! I'm thinking of making a series of one-shots of Matthew adjusting to bear life. Thoughts? Edit: Changed some of the wording, sorry if any previous readers were offended!
R&R!
