Canonverse, no human names.

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Miss, forget, miss, miss

Mirrors had been around for so long Finland couldn't quite remember the first time he'd seen one, even though they'd only become reliable in the last few centuries or so. It was kind of funny how, for so long, something as simple and common as a lake could give him a more accurate image of himself than anything manmade, no matter how quirky or expensive it was.

And lakes were a thing of which he definitely had no shortage. His country hadn't been nicknamed the "land of a thousand lakes" for nothing, after all. His and his people's beautiful lakes, one of the views he'd missed the most every time he was forcefully kept away. There were other lakes in other places, he knew, a few even looked like his, but he just felt those were not his, not his people's. Something in his reflection was never right, something about how the ice formed and melted was different if he was away, and he couldn't quite explain it, but he could definitely tell when he was at home or not.

Now, he didn't feel at home at all.

Which was weird, considering he technically was.

He couldn't understand! He didn't have any major unsolved personal issues, everything seemed to be in order at his house, the country wasn't in any kind of serious trouble. War, famine, economic recession and civil unrest weren't really going to happen anytime soon unless something seriously went South all of a sudden without anyone ever thinking it could happen, which did indeed happen sometimes, but mostly because nobody had been competent enough to foresee and avoid it, and definitely not often enough to be a real concern for now.

The sun had risen ages ago, and even though it was summer, it was definitely too late for Finland to be lying on his bed, even more considering he'd gone to bed early the day before. He'd left the window open, trying to find some way to avoid getting sticky with sweat (God only knew just how much he hated it), but he now regretted it. The sun shone way too brightly. It didn't match his mood. The sunlight hit the mirror on the wall opposite to the window, and it shone way too much. It was blinding, gave him a terrible headache. Finland knew there was no way it could really be this bad. He'd spent so many summers like this, why did it bother him now of all times? He wasn't keen on darkness either, would he just be stuck with discomfort like this? It was pitiful, really: the discomfort he initially had felt was by no means major, but now the very feeling of discomfort made him feel even more out of place.

This was not the first time he felt like this, and would not be the last, he knew. Still, it frustrated him to not even know why he was like this in the first place.

Then he suddenly remembered what this felt like. He screamed to his pillow, unable to cope with the new wave of sensations and feelings, but nothing really made him feel better.

He missed him.

How did he always forget it? He now recalled having felt like this so many times, always due to the same goddamn reason. Why did he always forget? Was his own mind trying to play tricks? Was it just trying to protect him the way it could? How the hell did he even recall it all of a sudden?

Anyway, he took that as a sign that going back to what it used to be was impossible and that even trying would be foolish. He ignored the blinding sunlight the mirror reflected, or tried to. He'd soon forget it again.

But why did inaction hurt that much?

Was it even really inaction?

Drip drip drip.

-.-.-.-

If it sounded rushed, it's because it was.
I wrote it in like half an hour.