It had happened again. America couldn't have been the only one who was noticing it, could he? Canada arrived at the world meeting with yet another black eye. He had done this before, but just as it was then it was the same now; no one said a word. America couldn't be sure when this had started but once he first noticed it, it began to bother him with a growing intensity. He had to say something, but what?
The meeting came to a close and once again, America said nothing; though he didn't have much of a chance to. Moments after the meeting ended Canada had stepped out of the room and by the time America could slip away from the side conversations, he was already gone.
He sat at home and watched tv as his mind dwelt on Canada's face, unaware of what was going in his surroundings, unaware of Britain calling his name. "America! I'm talking to you, you git!"
"Oh, sorry…" he said, finally snapped out of his daze. Glancing over he realized that Britain was dressed in his police uniform with the mini skirt, and had a grey suit in his hands. "Again?"
"What do you mean 'again'?" Britain said, his face expressing irritation. "We talked about this earlier. Isn't this what you wanted?" America merely gazed back at the tv without a word. "What is it now? You don't want to wear the suit? I know it wasn't part of the original agreement but-"
"That's not it." He was stunned by America's sudden and very strong words. Something was wrong. Gently he rested the suit on the arm of the couch and sat next to his distressed America. Britain leaned in and slowly wrapped his arms around America's shoulders.
"Tell me, what's wrong?"
"It's Canada."
"Canada?" Britain's tone lightened. What could possibly be wrong with Canada?
"So you haven't noticed it either." His voice was laced with disappointment.
"I'm sorry, no." Seeing America like this made his heart sink. He felt as though he had neglected him in a severe manor. "What's wrong with Canada?" he asked with a more sincere tone.
"He had a black eye today."
"Really?" America's shocked and offended face caused Britain to instantly cover his mouth after blurting his reply. This situation was very serious to America and he thought himself an idiot for not speaking more carefully. "I'm sorry. I-"
"It's ok," he said as his face relaxed a little. "I didn't expect that anyone would have noticed. Or that it would really matter to anyone."
"I didn't… mean it like that." Then suddenly something happened that gave Britain the shocked face. America began to laugh. "H-have you gone mad?"
"Hah, sorry I'm just taking this too seriously, aren't I? I'm probably just over reacting, I'm sure he's fine. If he had a problem he would say something wouldn't he? Of course he would." After leaving Britain totally speechless, he picked up the remote, changed the channel to an action movie, and turned the volume up louder. His way of saying he was done talking, only more dramatic: laced with carefree sarcasm, heavy artillery, and a good laugh.
"I suppose that means the police won't be arresting the established business man this evening," Britain muttered to himself as he left the room leaving America to his movie, and the thoughts he was no longer willing to share.
A few days had passed and the image of Canada still bothered America deeply. He couldn't wait until the next world meeting to say something or he would never rest. Fortunately, Canada lived only a short ways away from him. He would stop by for a visit.
Canada's voice was so timid and meek when he answered the door with a surprised hello. He couldn't imagine why America would stop in so unexpectedly, but he welcomed the company. "I… I was about to go out, b-but you're welcome to come in."
"I'm sorry if I got you at a bad time, it's just… I couldn't wait." Silence fell and the moment felt awkward; Canada stared at the ground as America gazed upwards, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Um… I was just going out to buy some books. Would you like to come with me, maybe get some coffee or something?" Trying to break the ice once more with his offer.
"Sounds good."
After more awkward silence while browsing the book store and walking down the street to what was apparently Canada's favorite coffee shop, America finally got his chance. "So there was something I wanted to talk to you about."
"I figured as much, the great America doesn't stop in for no reason at all now does he?" Canada smiled playfully as he took a sip of his coffee and turned another page in his new book.
"It's about your eye."
Canada's mug just inches away from the table, his fingers delicately raised as the page slipped from his grasp, his eyes expressing all the words he was failing to say. He froze, but only for a moment, though to America it felt much longer. This was a feeling he hadn't expected. "You… noticed?"
"Yes, though it would appear I was the only one who did." As he mentioned this he glanced back at Canada's eye to see how it had improved if it had at all. He had used cover up. "If you don't mind me asking, why are you wearing cover up today, when you didn't before at the meeting?"
"Oh, well you see… the people on the streets or the bookstore, they would have noticed."
"And the meeting?"
Canada looked away and laughed softly, "Russia once sat on me for an entire meeting. No one ever notices. Why cover up what no one will see anyways?" As much as America hated to admit it, it was true. Canada was hardly ever noticed at the meetings by anyone. When it came his turn to speak those who were appointed to run the meeting based off of the subject matter often passed him by. And like always, no one knew the difference.
"But I noticed… Not just in the last meeting. I've seen this before. Please tell me what's going on!" America stared a rather embarrassed looking Canada in the eyes and then realized in this moment he had reached across the table and was now holding tight to Canada's hands.
"A-America?"
Quickly he took his hands away and Canada instantly placed his own in his lap. He looked away, blushing, only glancing up every so often to look at America for a few seconds. "S-sorry… Please, Canada what's going on?"
"It's Cuba."
"Cuba? But I thought you two were on good standings?"
"We are. It's just…he doesn't really like you."
"Well I could have told you that," he laughed. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"He… he keeps mistaking me… for you." It took only moments for the situation to sink in. America's feelings of concern for Canada had changed. They had changed into a feeling he did not have very often. Anger, towards himself.
"This… is my fault."
"No. No, please don't blame yourself. You haven't done anything. It's my-"
"Don't." America shook his head and rested it in his hands. "I… I have to do something."
Canada reached out and gently tugged America's sleeve causing him to look up. With a great smile on his face Canada spoke softly, "You don't. I'm ok." He could see the guilt overwhelming America's eyes. "You've helped me enough already, I feel so much better."
"What did I-"
"You noticed me."
