He hated it. They all did. He hated how every world meeting he would see his brother. His brother who didn't remember him.
He would always be there, chatting with his new brother, laughing with his friends, being with people who would never begin to appreciate him.
And it hurt. It hurt more than a knife wound. It hurt to see him not remember, to see him acting like they were strangers.
He could see how much it hurt the others.
Sweden could never quite look at the boy, and has yet to look him in the eyes.
Finland had tried hinting at it for years, but he is always met with a blank stare. He stopped decades ago.
Denmark's smile was never as bright when he was in the room. He always tried to hide his sadness. He always failed.
Norway was probably the worst. He avoided all interaction with him. And when they did absolutely have to speak to each other, Norway was concise and borderline rude. He never looked into his eyes. And he had developed such a loathing for his new family.
His family. The ones who made him forget. They had to have, why else would they have to look at their brother. The one who grew up without them. The one they abandoned.
The one who didn't remember.
He didn't remember them, and he didn't remember his name, or any of the time they spent together.
He didn't remember the ones who had named him Vinland. All he remembered was Canada.
And it hurt.
But Iceland had caught him staring at them. Many times, actually. Maybe he was curious.
Or maybe there was hope of remembrance.
But one thing was sure.
The Nordics would never call him Canada. And he would always be their brother.
He would always be Vinland to them.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any brands that may have been mentioned in this fic.
Just a short oneshot before I went to bed. I've always loved this theory! I hope you liked it and feel free to contact me with any questions you may have! -Kate