Hello! My name is yoakeyiguri, and this is the first time I've written a Hetalia fanfiction. If you are somehow a moron and failed to read the title, this fic is Falling Snow. It's a CanAme – yes, this pairing is "geographically correct". Meaning, Canada tops. If you don't like CanAme, Hetalia or yaoi, this is not the place to be. For everyone who likes these things, please enjoy! This is for my friend Kouya-kun. I am sorry for being a fail at life :(

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia

Pale lights danced across the cold white marble and in the navy-colored night sky. It was far too beautiful a show to go unnoticed, and yet it was invisible to the shivering teen leaning against the rail of the balcony. After all, such things tend to be secondary when one is in mortal danger.

The teen in question pushed light blonde hair away from his eyes, taking deep calming breaths. This was far more terrifying than any horror movie, he decided, because a monster is something physical to fight. How can you fight the cold? With a fire. Except there was absolutely nothing to light a fire with. How was one supposed to light a fire when one is stuck on a marble balcony, attached to a house that has the door locked, and overlooking a field of snow? The teen's clothes were useless – he was wearing a thin hoodie and sweatpants, and his shoes were nothing but indoor-wear slippers.

Tears began to run down the teen's cheeks, freezing against his skin. In a fit of desperation, he slammed his fist against the glass door separating him from the house. To his amazement, a light flickered on in one of the rooms next to him. Relief flooded through the teen, and he sank to the floor. Perhaps he had gone to a party and gotten drunk, somehow managing to lock himself outside and fainting from the alcohol intake, awaking to find that he couldn't remember a thing. Yes. That was it. That had to be it.

"Hello?" The teen called weakly, his voice barely above a whisper. Clearing his throat in annoyance, he wondered why he was so quiet. "Hello! I-is anyone in there? I need help, eh!"

Another light flickered on. This was for the hallway beyond the glass door, and for the first time, the teen could see clearly inside. The carpet was a deep, rich, red and the walls and ceiling a creamy yellow. The entire place had the look of a red velvet cake. A chandelier hung from the top, throwing gold light onto the scene. Someone was walking down the hallway. The teen smiled weakly and waved. They did not wave back.

After what seemed like an eternity, the figure reached the end of the hallway and began to unlock the door. The teen's heart fluttered at the sight of him. The figure was a tall, young man, perhaps a year or two older than himself. He had straw-colored hair and eyes like bits of the sky. He was very muscular, but the amnesia victim noticed that he was also a bit on the chubby side.

"Hello…" the teen started as the figure unlocked the door and pushed it open, "Err… I k-kind of woke up out here… and… and I don't remember anything. I'm going to freeze to death out here…"

The figure placed a finger against the teen's lips, startling him into silence. "Please, Mattie, none of your games now. It's been a hard night for both of us."

The teen was immediately filled with questions. After a short pause, he prudently asked "So… my name is Mattie? Matthew?"

The figure looked at him tiredly. "Alright, I'll play your game, but you're coming inside first. You look half frozen to death." The figure wrapped an arm around the teen's shoulders and led him into the warmth. After closing the glass pane behind him, the figure turned to the teen. "Okay, what's the game this time? A guessing game?"

"No," the teen said hurriedly, "I'm not playing a game, I promise. Please, I'm serious. I can't remember anything. Do you know what happened…?"

The figure looked shocked. Grasping the teen's shoulders, he asked "You can't remember anything? Nothing at all?" The teen shook his head. "Holy… are you… No, you're not. Holy shit, Mattie."

The teen repeated his question from before. "Is my name Matthew?"

"Yes. Yes, you're Matthew. Matthew Williams. My name is Alfred Jones. I'm your brother."

"Matthew… Alfred…" the teen murmured, trying out the names. Adrenaline left him as he realized he was no longer in a life-or-death situation, and the teen – Matthew – felt his eyes growing heavy. He slumped into his brother's arms, drained. "You… you aren't leaving, right? I don't know anything…"

"Of course I'm not leaving," Alfred said, "what kind of hero would leave his brother all alone?" Matthew felt his brother's chest puff out a little, and, looking up, he saw Alfred smiling for the first time. It was a pleasant sight, and Matthew wondered if Alfred smiled often. "We should go to bed," Alfred continued, "It'll be easier to explain everything once we're rested." Matthew nodded. There was nothing else to say.

Short prologue is short. I promise that the next chapters will be much longer.

This passage is kind of confusing, even for me. Basically, "the teen" = Matthew, and "the figure" = Alfred. The next chapter is kind of the same, so if you're confused as to who's who, just scroll down to the bottom and it'll be there. Writing from the viewpoint of a person who has amnesia is hard…