Ello~ This is just a one-shot For SV. SV will be further explained in my profile, as I don't wanna keep you from reading. All you need to know is that this is Cannon in the SV and that there will be more one-shots for SV. Anyway~
Summery: Matthew was struck motionless. He was being filled with grief and such strong emotions that he held no word for at that moment. Why? What was happening? Who was that? Still, a whisper in his head and softly in his ear told him one thing. He knew the word, but not what it was nor what it meant. Something in him, broke. He whispered it anyway, just as it was whispered to him.
"NohtÂ."
Features: ..you know, Canada.
It was snowing again, the type of snow that came slowly and was likely to stick onto his nose. He looked up. Those beautiful lights were dancing in the sky as well. He wondered what they were. The elders said they were the ones who could not roam the ground. There was a loud roar in the distance that demanded his attention. It was an elder. He gathered the two polar bear cubs that had been playing in the snow and put them in the direction of the elder to start walking. He was the only one watching them at the moment, so he had to make sure they were fine. The snow crunched under his covered hands and feet as they walked, but otherwise it was silent.
When he reached the elder, he found something small with her in the snow. It looked like him, but with blond hair and vivid violet eyes. Its skin was darker then his own, as well. Without the polar bear pelt that covered his back, head, and arms, without the bottoms that covered his feet as well, that were crafted from fur, he would be like the small one in front of him. He sat questioningly in front of the small one and used one clawed and fur-covered hand to scratch at his darkly stubbled chin. His ice-colored eyes peered at it through the hood made out of the head of the pelt.
After a moment, he snapped to attention, just realizing it had no fur to keep it warm. He looked at the elder polar ear and tugged at his own pelt. The elder got up and left. He looked back at the small one and gently picked it up. It was beautiful, just like the lights in the sky, though it was the first time seeing another one of himself, even if the small one was different. It was looking up at him wih bright wide eyes and smiled. He paused, let his eyes widen, before he smiled back softly.
The elder came back with a small pelt in her mouth, and handed it to him, who reached with one hand while the other cradled the small one close to his chest. He looked it over before opening up the pelt. He placed the child in it so that the baby polar bear's empty head was around the small one. The arms of the pelt were filled with the small ones, and the rest hung off of its back. He got another pelt, this time bottoms, and covered its legs and feet. Now it looked more like him at that moment.
He smiled after he was done. It looked almost like a cub now. A small one that was born not too long ago, but a cub nonetheless. He looked at the elder, and his eyes widened. His eyes prickled with tears as she nudged his head with her own. The small one was his cub now.
He took to carrying his cub in one arm, close to his heart. It calmed both of them down, and he loved feeling the warmth and beating coming from it. His cub could not yet walk, but that was okay. He was born in the wrong season. He showed his cub the dancing lights, the stars and moon, and the snow. He also showed his cub-after it could see farther- the great body of water, where he hunted for food for the both of them and other sorts of animals gathered every once in a while. His cub loved it all, loved his land. It loved to laugh and smile as well, and play with the other young cubs. He was so proud of it, and loved it beyond his heart squeezing and his eyes watering.
His cub was his dancing light, just like the ones in the sky. He loved to snuggle up with it when it was time to sleep, to curl his whole body around it and make sure no snow comes into the center. It would give some sleepy smile and look up at him with half-lidded eyes that held unconditional love. He smiled evey time it happened, and let his eyes shine with the unconditional love he had for his cub, for it to see as it fell into dreams. He wondered why he got so attached to it, and how did he? It was not his blood, nor was it in his care for long.
His cub could walk now, and grew to the normal size of a cub. It had been odd to find his cub in the warm season so long ago, but his cub was doing as good as any, if not better. He guessed it might have something to do with his cub being what he was, instead of a normal polar bear cub. It made his cub more special, more beautiful, in his eyes.
His cub's hair was also longer and more golden. It curled in cute ways, and he had one curl that stuck out on the side of his head. He would nuzzle his cub when he saw it staring in space or pouncing on some falling snow. His cub was so cute, and friendly, and made him want to nuzzle or cuddle with it.
They found an orphaned cub that year. A poor young polar bear that was still too young to be on its own. Its family was special to him and his land, so he mourned for the loss of life and gathered up the new cub. His own cub was quiet that evening and snuggled close to the new one when they slept. The new one looked like fluffy snow. He watched as his cub squeezed the other close, like he was hugging a pile of warm snow. His heart soared and his eyes watered when he saw them clutching each other. He decided that night that they were of his blood, whether true or not. They were brothers, and they were his cubs.
He knew they were tied by heart when they never seperated in the ages that followed. His heart had soared when his cub of light had his first successful hunt, though it was a small catch it was big in meaning. His light cub had seen his younger brother look at him with adoring eyes, and had given his catch to him. It was so cute, and he could already see the relationship forming that would last forever. Not only that, he was sure that his little light would always be that sweet and considerate. He watched as the youngest jumped around his little light and they started to play some game. Before he could think of anything, he had scooped them up into his arms and laughed low and gruff.
It was almost time to sleep for the cold season. He decided that they needed to get more food and get out more energy before he made them go into a hole for a while. He smiled down at the both of them and squeezed them just a bit harder, and just a bit closer to his heart.
They made it a habit to go exploring just after they came out of their hole for the cold season. His little light had wanted to see what those tall things were that were sometimes in the distance. He understood the curiousity and wanted to know himself. It turned out that it was some thick stuff that was more colored than he had ever seen on something that did not move.
He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. It smelled so amazing and different, too. They always came back after that year, after every cold season, to explore more thick stuff. They found that the thick stuff was where it got warmer and held all different types of creatures. His youngest supprised him by jumping on his back from some big rock, and biting his pelt's left ear. He grumbled and rolled around in the snow, making sure that his youngest got a heavy dose of it.
His light cub was bigger than his younger brother, almost twice his size. He had a harder time curling around them, but he could still manage. He may have to get his little light another pelt soon, to fit his growing size. He smiled wide when he thought of how he was growing up. His youngest cub was not the smallest, but he would grow. When he did, and was big enough, he would teach him how to get his own hunt. Just like his little light.
For now, he settled on letting them wonder around some green and brown stuff they all found. It was tall and smelled so nice. He was glad his little light was with the youngest though, as it was hard to see them in the thick stuff. He loved getting a slight break from having both of their hyper little cub selves jump all over him and wrestle. He gave a dramatic sigh, and sat down in the snow. His cubs knew not to go too far fom him. He wondered what his cubs would act like when they were older. He laughed, knowing his little light was always going to be cheery and hyper. There was no other way he could see his precious oldest cub, and he knew his youngest would follow in the footsteps of his older brother. They would be such a handful, though he smiled at the thought despite himself.
He heard a loud sound, and immediately looked around sharply. He could not see his cubs. He got up and sniffed around before going after what he knew to be his oldest cub's scent. He did not know that sound, and it was too loud to be anything good for them. As he ran, he seemed to lose their scents. It was snowing again, and harder! Where were they? They could not have been that far from him! He looked all over, and even retraced his path and went different ways. He was franctic now. He had always been able to see them, smell them, or at the very least hear them. He heard the loud sound again. It was louder, harsh, and frightening.
He ran and ran until he could feel his lungs burn. Soon, he caught a wiff of his little light and sprinted harder in the direction with wide eyes. He had just let them play for a bit, how had they gotten so far in the thick stuff? As he neared the scent, he saw something that made him relieved. He saw his little light's pelt near some green plants. His youngest was surely near with his little light. When he neared his little light, he reached out and grabbed his cub's pelt. He was shocked by how light it was, and the fact that his little light was not in it. How did this get off of him? He knew it was secured on tight.
He looked around in confusion before his eyes widened and realization set in. The clearing with his little light's pelt was trashed and there were so many different footprints in the snow. There were several different scents than his cubs' distinctive scents. His eyes started to water, but he shook it off and growled low and harsh. His cubs. They were his, and they were not with him. He would not let them be taken by predators.
He took a good wiff of the different scents. One in paticular stood out to him, smelled special and antagonizing and too sweet to be anything good or harmless. He ran as swiftly as he could, howling for help. He was not one to let the wolves help before the polar bears, but this was different than what had happened before. He ran, and his eyes glowed sharply in the shadows of his hood.
He was scared. He wanted his father, wanted his warmth and comfort. He clutched his little brother close to him. He wanted his pelt, and he wanted this stranger to let him go. His younger brother growled and clutched closer to him. He hated walking on two legs, why was he being forced to walk that way? His other wrist hurt, the one not holding deerly onto his little brother. It was being held tight by a rapidly talking man that wore some stange things and had bright hair.
His eyes started to water. Where was his father? He was being dragged away, and he did not have his pelt to hide in the snow with, nor did he think it would be his again. The man had ripped it off of him, and now he would not let go. He looked back, where he heard a howl and knew his father was searching for him.
The man tightened his grip and pulled on him harder, making strange noises that were flowing together. The man's body was stiff and he did not understand what was going on. He kept looking back, trying to find his father. Where was his father? Did the man hide his scent? He tried to resist, to get a way, but he could not break the man's hold.
He tried one last thing, the only thing he probably could do. It was his first word, something that had been whispered in this head, that seemed to fit into this. If he howled, he would confuse the search. He had forgotten how to howl right anyway, and was still learning. So he gathered as much air into his lungs as he could and let it out in a scream.
"NOHTÂ!"
He never found his cubs. He searched for days. For nights. For weeks. Months. Years. Forever. He had found some of the predators that held some scents from the clearing, and had attacked. It gave him a round scar on his shoulder from a branch they had that made the loud frightening sounds. It was harsh after they left, down three men that he had killed. He had been growling and let the wolves attack the rest of them. It turned out that it was all for nothing. His cubs were not with them.
He tried not to give up, but after a while he knew that he would never find his beautiful cubs that had been full of life and happiness. He took back thinking that it was nice to have a break from them. He never wanted them to be out of his sights now. He held his little light's pelt in his left hand so tight that he knew it would not be swept away any time. His right hand, that was covered in the pelt's paw, went straight over his heart. He looked up into the dancing lights in the night and let his eyes well in tears.
Soon those tears were streaming down his face in rapid secession and he would not stop them. His heart not only squeezed, but absolutley shrivled and split. He scrunched up his face and let out a horse cry that was closer to a scream. It was low, harsh, and filled with such mourning that could not be expressed any other way. His cubs.
His cubs.
The man had made him wear some white dress. It was nothing like he was used to, and he was held in such a warm place. The man even seemed to name him something, Matthew. He felt his eyes well up with tears. There was no snow to be found and he did not want to be named. He looked out what the other had called a window, and watched as water fell from the sky. Warm water. He was curious about the new things he saw, but it was not good enough to replace his home.
His little brother came up to him and huddled close to him. The man had almost killed and taken away his little brother. The tears were now running down his face before he burried his face into the side of this brothers side. So much was changing.
He seemed to get sick so much after the man had taken him. It took all his energy and spirit. Matthew guessed it was not so bad though, as he was not allowed to roam and play as he used to anyway. If he could not use any energy then why have it? The man, Francis, had made so many new rules. He was to talk in the weird language Francis spoke. He had to use things called table manners. He had to sit down for hours and learn things that had not mattered before.
Francis had even tried to make him call him "Papa". When he learned what he was saying, and what it meant, Matthew almost threw a fit, and was definitely more than willing to bite Francis. He had a father. He later compromised with calling him Big brother instead. Matthew sighed as he passed his little brother, who wanted to play but he was too busy, and went to his next lesson. Maybe he could play with his little brother later. He felt a slight pinch in his chest and winced. He wished he was back home, though he was getting used to the weather and surroundings.
Matthew had been given to England. He wilted just a little bit more. He was getting more tired and did not wish to talk as much anymore. It was worse than staying with Big brother. The food was aweful, and he had to learn another language. He got headaches often, making him want to be left alone, and even his polar bear friend was getting too much for him. He sighed, thinking that he really needed to name him soon. He could not just continue calling him that.
He had a brother-besides Big brother France- now too, Alfred. Alfred was American, just under his own land which happened to be Canada. He was glad, as he did not want to be the only one his age around England. It was too bad that he was not so full of energy like Alfred was, otherwise he may have actually been able to catch up and play with him more.
Matthew looked out into the nice day. He really did not want to stay inside with such a nice weather. He wished he was home with his Big brother, making something tasty. He seemed to be remembered there more too, though that may be his own fault. He was rather quiet and kept to himself.
Matthew pet his bear, Kumajirou. He had found the right name for him after a few months of searching. He had also finally had his freedom, just like Alfred. He was free and out of his big brother France's hands as well as England's hands. He smiled to himself, before it dropped a little. It felt a bit hollow. It was like something was missing. He stared forward and thought about it. What was he missing? What was not there?
Family, something whispered in his ear softly. He snapped out of his thoughts. Family. He had Alfred still. France was still his big brother despite Matthew not being his colony anymore. It might be strained, though, from then on and England was not really that close to him anyway. While his people cheered, his eyes watered.
There was no reason for it. He was happy, and so were his people. He was free, but something felt like it was leaving him. Something important. He looked at Kumajirou, who looked right back at him.
"Who are you?"
Matthew's eyes widened in confusion. That was weird, Kumajirou knew who he was before.
Matthew had gotten more quiet over the years. He was older, but not more noticed. Some part of him was glad that no one saw him, but another part was sad and annoyed that he was like a ghost. He was easy to forget, easy to ignore, easy to not think about. He sighed and pet his pet polar bear. He looked at the paperwork on his desk. If he was going to be invisible, then why could the paperwork not also be invisible?
Matthew sighed as he left yet another useless meeting. All they ever did was argue, and he was always forgotten or ignored. He could not remember the last time he was noticed at least half as fully as another country. He really did not mind Alfred taking the spotlight, but he really wished he was taken more seriously.
"Come on," he called softly to his pet polar bear. His bear had kept on forgetting him, ever since he was free. So he 'forgot' right back, except lately he was actually having a hard time remembering his name. He knew it started with 'Ku' but other than that he was left with a blank.
"Who are you?" Matthew sighed. He might be a nation, but it apparently meant nothing most of the time. They had a plane to catch. The meeting had been in Alfred's country this time, but his home was stil very far away. He sighed. He hated flying.
He never lost the habit of roaming all over, hoping that he could still get a scent of his cubs. It was fruitless and stupid, but he had nothing left. Nothing left to do but survive and notice another year fly by. His mind felt numb and he swore that he felt nothing at that moment. There was nothing he could do about it, but continue on.
He was in that place that he had lost his cubs in. The last place he had seen them. Maybe he just needed to go farther. He sighed and continued on. There was no use, but he went on farther anyway.
Matthew had been done with being on the plane by the time it landed. It was a miracle that his house was not so far from the airport, so he was home within just two hours. He left his stuff in the entrance of his house, and went out to his back yard to get some fresh air and relax. He had managed to do just that, when he saw what looked like a polar bear not too far from him.
His own pet polar bear came up next to him and tilted his head. Matthew stared at it with couriousity, and felt something tug at his chest. There was something stirring in him. Not only was that polar bear familiar, but he felt like he had forgotten a part of himself. It was like something was filling him, but not the memories that would help him find out why the strange polar bear was familiar.
He had found his scent. His little light. His eyes widened and tears sprang forth. He broke out into a run and followed the faint trail before he could think too much on it. It was the first sign of his cub. The first sign ever that his cub was still out there. He ran and ran until he found a human's wood home. Standing just in front of it was a tall boy that was just shorter than himself, but he remembered those eyes. Even if they were behind glass.
Those eyes that held joy and awe when he had first seen him. Those eyes that would light up like the lights in the sky that he watched. Those eyes that had catpured the hearts of all the polar bear mothers when they crossed paths. Beside his cub, was his youngest. His youngest had grown up. Tears streamed down his eyes. They were both alive. Both of his cubs. They were still so beautiful, and just there. He promised to the stars that he would not leave them again, as long as they were real and not some image he was seeing.
As he got closer, he noticed something was off about them. They did not know his pelt. They saw him and were in range to smell him, and did not remember his scent. His youngest tilted his head at him. His little light frowned. They did not know him. His cubs. Please, stars, do not let it be as he is thinking.
He stood up and walked to the edge of the forest. He looked his little light in the eye, tears still welled up, and lifted his right hand to his heart and reached to the old worn baby pelt to hold in his left hand. He held the pelt loosly forward, just a foot or so.
His cubs. He knew they were his cubs. Please do not let him be the only one who knew.
Matthew looked at the worn dirty pelt the other man held out. He was confused as to what was happening, and why the man was on his property. He was also wearing a polar bear pelt, something his did not-
Matthew was struck motionless. He was being filled with grief and such strong emotions that he held no word for at that moment. Why? What was happening? Who was that? Still, a whisper in his head and softly in his ear told him one thing. He knew the word, but not what it was nor what it meant. Something in him, broke. He whispered it anyway, just as it was whispered to him.
"NohtÂ."