Hey guys! Miharu and Mitsuki here—with our brand new pen name, AgeAndRicchanOwnYourSouls!~ So yes, we are MiharuAndMitsukiOwnYourSouls, just with a different screen name. Don't be alarmed, k people? Be cool.

Anyhow, about this story: This was actually done a few days ago when Miharu/Ricchan went over to Mitsuki/Age's house to help ease her boredom while Mitsuki/Age was babysitting her little cousin. Since the kid was pretty low maintenance, we made up this little story here by going back and forth, etc etc. It was originally intended as a oneshot, but it seemed to end a bit too abruptly and vaguely for our liking, so we decided to make this a multi-chaptered fanfiction. Enjoy!~

Chapter One: A Sudden Realization.

Prussia had a problem. No, scratch that; Prussia had a veritable army of problems, and these problems were all linked to the main problem that was first mentioned. The reason for this problem (and also for all the other aforementioned annoying, irritating problems that stemmed from it) could be explained with just one name:

Matthew Williams.

Otherwise known as "Canada", formerly known as the "British Colony of North America", sometimes called upon as "America", etc, etc.

Now hell if Canada knew that he was a problem, but he was not exactly helping poor, awesome Prussia by metaphorically shoving this problem into Prussia's face all the time. To be quite frank, if he knew what exactly the problem was, maybe he could avoid it, but since that was a negative, he was quite frustrated. Urgh…

Narrowed red eyes scanned the room, looking for a certain someone, as they had several dozen times previously. He wasn't even controlling it anymore; it had become reflexive, a routine. This room was unfamiliar, however, and, seeing as no one was currently in the room other than himself and his flurry of confusing theories, there was really no point to the action. He was too early. How unawesome. To eliminate the risk of being seen by any prospective attendees as less than his normally awesome self, he propped his feet up on the table and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. There. Nonchalant.

Appearances were everything.

The door behind him creaked open quietly. Someone was entering the room. Prussia heard the shuffling of papers and careful footsteps. Hm. Could be Japan, but he usually showed up with Italy and Germany, (Old habits died hard.) in which case, there would be much more noise at his arrival. Then who was it? He was guessing that, whoever it was, was walking so quietly and carefully so as to avoid waking him up, but he didn't know anyone else who would be so considerate of him. Hell, most of those still-a-country-and-you're-not assholes would probably yell at him or perhaps simply just tip his chair over.

Unless…

"Who?" Asked a high-pitched, familiar squeaky voice in questioning tones.

Prussia's stomach did an uncharacteristically nervous flip. If that thing was here in the meeting room, then that meant that… Maybe…

"I'm Canada, Kumakuma." Whispered back the unmistakeable, soft, polite voice that the albino man had learned to recognize within an instant, "Shh, be quiet, please. I think Mr. Prussia is trying to sleep."

Here we go again. Another stomach flip. What was wrong with him today? After all, it was only natural that even a quiet, withdrawn country like Canada would be unable to forget his sexy, awesome face, so why the hell was he feeling so goddamn happy about it?

"Oh. Hungry…" Said the polar bear pointedly, very clearly not caring who or why someone was sleeping in his presence.

Canada sighed softly to the snowy pet, and replied to it in hushed tones, "I'll get you something to eat after the meeting, okay? As long as you sit still and be quiet."

"Hmph." Huffed the bear, obviously dissatisfied by the deal, but was, nonetheless, silent.

Prussia opened one eye, surveying the host country from his peripheral vision. The small blond man was shuffling his papers into order, placing them carefully into manila folders. His large, violet-blue eyes were trained fixedly on a thick stapled document, eyes roving across the pages with great speed, skimming it. What could the papers be, Prussia wondered. Maybe it was a contract? But no, he thought as he saw Canada run his fingers through his slightly wavy strawberry blond hair, staying clear from one strange, errant curl sticking out, it must have been something more personal, or there wouldn't have been such a strange mixture of sadness and nostalgia in his wide eyes. The nation shook his head, put the papers back in his briefcase, and pulled up his seat, one a mere couple of chairs away from Prussia's.

Prussia didn't realize he had been staring until he saw the Canadian turn to face him, smiling nervously and questioningly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Prussia. I hope I didn't wake you." He said apologetically with overbearing sincerity. The kid was always so repentant over the tiniest of things. It was strange.

Well, shit, Prussia thought to himself. He'd been staring. He had to find something to say, but he couldn't for the life of him seem to find any words to direct at the other man. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He closed it, and then repeated the action several times over.

Crap, now Canada looked really worried. Why, though? Seriously, he hadn't done anything wrong, he'd done nothing to offend the Prussian. Hell, most of the countries he knew that had ever done something regrettable to him (such as Hungary with her awful habit of hitting him over the head with a frying pan or a piss-drunk England attempting to revisit his pirate days by trying to hack Prussia's arm off with his sword) had never been so remorseful or anxious.

But then again, Prussia thought knowingly to himself, that's Canada… He paused for a moment, and his eyes widened slightly in realization. Wait a second—"that's Canada"? Since when was I an expert? Mein gott, what's happening to me? He thought in frustration, frowning deeply.

So lost in his thoughts was the ex-nation that he didn't even hear the other voice his concern, nor did he notice when a certain Frenchman pulled up behind them both, smiling suavely.

"Ah, do not fret, mon petit Mathieu. Mon ami Prusse is simply lost in his thoughts." Chuckled France, patting Canada on the top of his head while smiling reassuringly. He pulled up a chair behind the newly attentive albino and nudged him pointedly. "Isn't that right, mon ami?"

"Huhhh? Uh… Yeah! 'Course!" Yelled Prussia hastily, slapping his signature Cheshire-esque grin onto his face. "The awesome me was just, uh, devising plans to conquer more vital regions! Yeah… Kesese…"

Thank god for France and quick thinking. You're awesome, me. Thought Prussia in relief.

Canada simply smiled and giggled lightly at the boisterous speech. "I see. Good luck, then." He said without a trace of sarcasm, then turned his attention back to his notes as nations began to file into the room.

Unbeknownst to Canada, he had turned at precisely the right time to miss seeing the stark pink coloring on the albino's cheeks.

France however, did not miss this.

Onhonhon… How unexpected, indeed…~ He thought to himself with a smirk. This was sure to be entertaining.

"Yo! The hero has arrived! Rejoice, bitches!"

Well… there was America, no doubt about it. Following that stupid, crude statement was the tell-tale sound of at least two dozen hands meeting with their respective foreheads in a brilliantly orchestrated symphony of facepalms.

"Shut up, you insufferable, bloody git!" Yelled England angrily.

America puffed out his cheeks in a childish display and cannonballed into the seat beside the Englishman, drumming his fingers against the table impatiently.

With that tradition of an exchange put out of the way, the first of two weeks' worth of Canadian-hosted world meetings had commenced. In all fairness, however, if would probably be more reasonable—and not to mention accurate—to call these gatherings "a complete waste of time and energy for an assemblage of nations who secretly despise each other and try at every waking moment to yell over each other to make themselves feel important".

Just as stated above, America further proved this point when he began to yell senseless profanities at Russia from across the long table and throw anything within arm's reach at the tall, creepy man.

"Communist bastard! Taste my pain!" He yelled, throwing one of his shoes across the table. Far from hitting the desired target, Prussia saw Canada narrowly dodge the flying footwear as it made a hole in the wall behind him.

"A-Al, calm down, eh? He didn't even say anything to you…" Said Canada just as softly and soothingly as he could given the circumstances, locking eyes with his older brother.

"Yeah, but he protagonized me!" Yelled the other blond North American, thrusting an accusatory finger at the smiling Russian while nearly everyone else in the room was trying to figure out why exactly America was talking to air at the moment.

"You mean antagonize, not protagonize, you bloody wank. There's no such thing." England scoffed with an annoyed sigh, shaking his head disappointedly as if to ask 'What did I do wrong…?'

"Same thing!" America snapped back harshly, still glaring daggers at Russia. "Ya communist bastard! I'll nuke you to death if you ever ask my little brother to become one with you ever again!"

Just nuke his ass right now, he has it com—Prussia's thoughts were cut off suddenly as he replayed what America had just said slowly in his head.

Wait a second…

'younger brother'? …That was Canada, so…

Become one… With Russia?

Oh hell no!

"Kolkolkol~"

"Al, calm down, eh. He asks everyone that." Reasoned Canada, sighing resignedly.

"But Mattie—"

"Seriously, who is he talking to?"

"Dunno. Maybe he really is a schizo, just like the rumours say…"

"Al, just sit down, okay? Please…?" Pleaded Canada quietly, looking up at his brother with big, puppy-dog eyes.

"ERK!" Prussia exclaimed, and twitched, feeling his face heat up again and his body tense.

What the fuck, Canada? Why are you so damn cute?

The room was silent, and, despite his pleas to every nonexistent god he'd ever heard of, Prussia knew that everyone had seen his little wimpy, unawesome reaction, and were looking for an explanation.

Well, hell. Prussia wanted an explanation, too, so those annoying sons of bitches could wait. To help himself, he attempted to piece together the events that might have led to this particular situation.

Event A: Prussia meets Canada just six weeks previously on April Fool's day when he is given maple syrup that the man claims will "bring happiness to all who use it!"

Event B: After three weeks worth of pancakes and syrup-induced bliss, Prussia suddenly and inexplicably decides to start attending those stupid, pointless world meetings again after several dozen years of avoiding it like the plague.

Event C: Prussia finds the Canadian after one of the meetings and asks him for some more syrup. He gets some. (But not like that unfortunately and oh hell he's getting off topic. Snap out of it!)

Event D: Despite having the wonderful, maply goodness in his awesome possession, he continues to go to the meetings and finds himself looking around for Canada every chance he gets. Though he doesn't need to if it's about the syrup; he's gotten three months' worth, easy.

Event E: (This occurs today.) Prussia continues to look for Canada. He notices that whenever he sees or even hears the Canadian, his stomach does weird, loopy flips and he is suddenly at a loss for words when in the general vicinity of the man.

Event F: (Presently.) His mind is cluttered with thoughts about how adorable Canada is and other such things of this nature. His face is bright red and he is either having some sort of attack or his heart is, to use Japan's otaku terminology, going "DokiDoki".

He considered these events for what felt like hours, and suddenly came to a conclusion.

Mein gott… I may possibly maybe sorta have a huge gay man crush on Canada.

Well, shit.

"Ve, I think Prussia-nii is dead~ Ludwig, what do we do?~"

"Just leave him be, Feliciano. He'll snap out of it eventually."

"Gee, thanks West. Your love touches my awesome heart, it really does." Said Prussia sarcastically, finally snapping out of it. Germany purposefully ignored him and resumed the meeting.

So then… I kinda sorta maybe-ish like Canada… He thought, looking over at the oblivious, attentive Canadian. Well… This is gonna be one hell of a trip…

Please remember to story alert/favourite/author alert/favourite if you like the story, and, above all, review please!~ We love reviews most of all!~ OUOb We will love you forever for it, screen name or anonymous, we just like to hear from you~! Second chapter is in the works!

-AgeAndRicchanOwnYourSouls.