Hey people~

So, I wrote this in honor of America and Canada's birthdays!

Happy Canada Day (kind of late, I know) and Happy Fourth of July!

On July 1st, Canada stood alone in his home, staring at his coffee table. Upon it laid a single card, decorated with smiley faces and balloons placed on top of a white pastry box. He picked up the card and opened it.

~Bonne Fete, Mon Ami

I hope you have an extremely Happy Birthday!

Enjoy these croissants, I made them myself -)

Love, France

The blond couldn't help but smile at his friend's gesture but knew that it didn't make up for all the other countries that forgot his birthday, even his own brother. It's the same thing every year, his birthday would go casually unnoticed but America always threw this huge bash that everyone went to. And Canada was expected to show up and bear it, while everyone congratulated his older sibling and those that did notice him would constantly ask if he was proud of his brother or try to see what gift Canada got him. But not this year, the younger country decided. If I'm just going to be ignored then what's the point? I'm not going.

_xXx_

On July 3rd, there was a world meeting. Canada sat in the back as usual holding Mr. Kumajirou close to his chest. Germany was talking about the sanitation of water in some third world country, which was extremely important but the way the German was barking out stats and orders was causing the other countries to drift off into sleep.

"Alright, stop with your boring words. I've got something to say," America declared, bouncing out of his seat.

"What did you say?" Germany demanded, glaring at the dirty blond trying to claim his podium.

"I want to talk, so move."

"That is the most disrespectful, arrogant—"

"Okay, so I know you're all pretty psyched for my party tomorrow!" America interrupted, facing the group of seated countries, ignoring the German that was giving him the evil eye. "I just wanted remind everyone that gifts are not required but expected. Please, try to make them epic, and you know, not practical," he emphasized, glancing at Japan, who held an unaffected expression. "We wouldn't want a repeat of last year's 'socks' fiasco, ok guys? I have plenty."

"I think we get it, you tosser! So why don't you take a seat and let us continue our meeting," snapped England.

"Ah, Angleterre, there's no need to get so fussy. Let the boy enjoy his birthday," sighed France.

"No one asked you, Frog! I'm not trying to ruin his day; I just don't see why we have to stop everything for practically a whole day because of one country!"

"Doesn't your country have multiple holidays dedicated solely to patriotism?" asked Austria, matter-of-factly.

"That's different!" retorted England.

"Of course it is," the brunette agreed, tone pervasive with sarcasm as he rolled his eyes.

"Ok, so I don't know why the conversation stopped being about me, but I'm going to change that. The party starts at three and it's a pool party, so bring your bathing suits! If you try to swim without one, you'll probably be thrown out, right France?" America asked, raising a brow at the country in question, who merely shrugged.

"I didn't get any complaints," the blue eyed blond winked. The American shivered and returned back to his speech. Canada merely stayed quiet in the back, as always, watching the clock tick away, hoping it could move faster. Eventually, Germany got tired of the dirty blond at the podium taking over the meeting and forced him to sit down but when he finally did, the meeting was over. Countries filed out of the room, discussing the party and what they should bring. Canada was trying to get out of there as fast as possible, which would have been easier if Mr. Kumajirou hadn't kept trying to escape from his grasp, claiming that the Canadian was kidnapping him. He almost reached the door when he heard someone call out his name.

"Canada, bro! Can you hold on a sec?" America yelled. Dang, Canada thought. I don't really want to talk to him, but it would be rude to just leave. Regardless, the nation began to creep forward but his brother landed a strong hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, dude," the American grinned as his brother turned to face him. "Didn't you hear me calling you?"

"Uh yea, I just-" he began softly.

"Doesn't matter," America waved him off. "I'm going to need you to bring some stuff for the party tomorrow. I have a list but you know I hate shopping for stuff like that, and you're so much better at it." He handed the shopping list to his brother.

"Uh America, I'm-"

"Oh, right. Money," he facepalmed. "Here's five hundred, that should cover it," he claimed, pulling a couple bills out of his wallet and handing it over.

"I'm not-"

"Thanks a million, little bro," he grinned, already leaving.

"AMERICA!" Canada yelled, his voice echoing throughout the room. Everyone there flinched, except Italy, who was cowering under his desk and Spain, who was trying to discern where the noise had come from.

"Whoa," America said. "You never talk like that," he noted, walking back to his brother.

"I have something to say," Canada demanded, trying really hard not to lose his nerve.

"Well, why didn't you just say so?" The American asked, staring directly at his brother, expectantly.

"I-I-the thing is, I'm-" he hesitated.

"Just say it," America encouraged. "We don't have all day."

"I'mnotcomingtoyourparty," he rushed.

"What?" Canada took a deep breath.

"I'm not coming to your party," he enunciated. America stared at him for a moment and then chuckled.

"Nice one, bro. I almost believed you for a second."

"I'm telling the truth," his sibling replied, the assertiveness in his voice disappearing.

"Yea, okay. Just make sure you get everything on the list, dude."

"I'm not going shopping and not going to your stupid party!"

"Stupid? My parties are awesome!"

"Yea, maybe for you but I hate them."

"If you hate them so much, why don't you throw your own?" America shot back, his anger rising.

"It's not just about the party," Canada tried to explain, his volume matching that of his brother's.

"Oh really? Because I'm sure the reason you don't throw your own party is because no one would ever come!" America yelled. His sibling stepped back, determined not to let his older brother get to him.

"I'd rather no one come, than have a party full of people who hate me!"

"They don't hate me," America laughed.

"Maybe not, but they sure as heck aren't your friends. They're only there for the stuff!"

"At least they remember my birthday!"

"Because you'll never let anyone forget it! You spend the entire week preparing everyone for your moronic event, believing that we all actually care!"

"You know what? Don't come, I don't even want you there! No one will notice you're gone, not even me!" America snapped. As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted them, feeling terrible as hurt took over his brother's face. "Canada, I-"

"So, you should probably do your own shopping," his sibling said softly,changing the subject, unshed tears shining in his eyes. He placed the money and shopping list on the table.

"Dude, I didn't mean-" America began but his brother had already left the room.

_xXx_

July 4th. America should have been happy. It was his birthday and all his friends were here to celebrate. Rock was blasting through the speakers, the beer never stopped flowing and everyone looked like they were enjoying themselves, well except England, but he was always touchy around this time of year. But why am I so unhappy? America shook his head at the thought, he knew the answer. He checked his watch. The party had been going on for two hours now and there was still no sign of his brother. Was he serious? Is he really not going to show? America had called his brother hundreds of times and left millions of text but didn't get a single reply. Who can blame him? I can be a real jerk sometimes. He left the backyard, where the party was being held, and sat in the living room with a photo album. As he moved through the pages he couldn't help but notice all the pictures of himself, with Canada somewhere in the background. He had a whole section dedicated to his birthday bashes and as the years went on, his brother seemed to disappear more and more. America closed the book and placed it on the coffee table.

"I've been a crappy brother," he noticed.

"Yea, but I love you anyway." America turned around to see Canada smiling shyly at him.

"Bro, I am so sorry-" he began but the younger nation held up hand.

"I understand. You're passionate sometimes, I shouldn't have snapped at you," he admitted.

"No, don't do that. Don't act like this your fault, I screwed up. You shouldn't have to baby me," the American claimed, standing up.

"I'm not babying you."

"Yes, you are. You're always trying to protect my feelings when I keep disregarding yours. I'm the older brother, I should be taking care of you."

"I really don't mind," he said.

"I'm not asking, bro, and I promise I will make it up to you."

"You don't have to."

"Again, not asking. Now, let's go enjoy the party." The American grabbed his brother's hand and led him outside. First thing he did was announce Canada's arrival to the other guest and he glared at anyone who even attempted to say, 'who?'. Then he brought his younger sibling to the gift table, claiming that half of the presents belonged to him. When Canada tried to refuse, America simply laughed, again stating that it was not debatable. Even though his brother could be a little stubborn, Canada had to admit that he was having fun. People were talking to him and not just about his louder sibling and America was being much nicer as well.

It was almost time for the fireworks but the birthday boy was nowhere to be found. His younger brother maneuvered through the crowd to find him but eventually had to give up and take a seat to watch the show. He'll turn up, he reasoned. The Canadian was sitting on a white lawn chair in front of the crowd, anticipating the show when his brother claimed the seat next to him.

"Where were you?" he asked.

"You'll see," the American smirked as he turned his attention to the show that was beginning. Canada looked at him for a while, then shrugged it off. Knowing America, 'you'll see' could literally mean anything. As the show started all the nations stared at the skies in awe; bursts of red, white and blue formed magnificent spirals in the heavens. Some laughed as the lights formed a picture of America's face in the clouds and applauded when the words HAPPY BIRTHDAY spanned across the sky.

Then, towards the middle of the display, the blue seemed to disappear. Canada wondered if they had simply ran out when he saw a firework launch and explode into the image of a solid red maple leaf. Like the one on my flag. He turned to look at his brother, who was smiling but demanded that he kept watching. The phrase HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY CANADA! shone brightly in the air above as an image began to form. It took him a minute but then he recognized it as his own face. The Canadian looked around as the other nations watched the spectacle in admiration. He couldn't believe it. He knew they were watching fireworks but that was him up there and they were smiling. Some of them even turned to wink at him. He couldn't help the warm feeling that was coursing through his veins. It felt good to be noticed and he owed it to his brother.

"Hey, America," smiled Canada.

"Yea?" his brother asked, turning to face him.

"Happy Birthday, bro."

"You too, dude," America grinned.