Disclaimer: This story contains mentions of suicide, some possible OOC, and depression. If these things trigger you, please do not read, I don't want anyone to get offended or possibly hurt from this story. Also, I might change this to a rated M story in the future, but I honestly doubt it. Oh, and Hetalia never has and never will belong to me.

A/N: For those of you reading my other stories, don't worry, I'll still be updating them :)


America was returning from the meeting to his hotel room. Words can not begin to describe just how egregious the conference had turned out. For one, every other nation aside from him was actually okay with having the meeting in Russia (or rather, they were much too frightened of the intimidating nation to really object). Of course, America tried to convince the others that this would be a terrible idea, but as always, his words were completely disregarded, as everyone assumed he was just being an idiot. When he continued to ramble on, in hopes of grabbing everyone's attention, he was eventually told in a very compassionate manner (meaning that he was yelled at, but he was just too used to that) by England to just stop talking, since he's too stupid and might cause another pointless war. Surprisingly, America did just stop talking after that, for his seemingly everlasting determination was used up when he finally realized that no one was ever going to listen to him.

Sometimes, he wondered why he even bothered going to the meetings when he was constantly shunned for his ideas. Of course, his boss wouldn't be too thrilled if he just started skipping them, but surely his president also noticed at one point or another that the other nations completely disregarded him? Well, whenever he did try to explain that to his boss, he was always told that he needed to present himself in a more professional way, since how he normally acts during things such as meetings tends to give off a vibe that he is not taking it too seriously. When he tried to defend himself and say that he did take them seriously, the only response he received in return was a, "Well, you're just going to have to change the way you act, because making that claim is not going to change the way others view things."

America simply didn't understand why he would have to change. His attitude towards important events seemed to do him plenty of good in the past, so he should've had no problem during meetings. Besides, didn't he always follow those simple, unwritten rules on how to make himself heard? Well, of course he did. He was loud, he was confident, he could speak clearly without even mispronouncing or stuttering on one word; so people should've been taken him seriously. Instead, he was always talked down to as if he were just some child trying to barge into an adult's business. Although, he couldn't necessarily say that people treated him exactly as they would treat a child, since they weren't nearly as gentle towards him.

If what he had to go through before the meeting even started wasn't enough to make poor America miserable, then the actual conference itself definitely did it for him. This time during the meeting, instead of having some 'ridiculous' plan put together, he didn't even bother making any presentation. The only thing he did bring was some blank paper and a pen, since he figured that maybe just being silent for once and observing every single thing his peers had to say would change things for the better. For once in his life, he was actually hoping that he could go unnoticed, just as his brother, Canada, always was. Somehow, not even that seemed to work out, for someone just had to cause some sort of conflict with him, "America, it's your turn to present, and this time, you'd better have something worth sharing."

"No," was America's firm response, "I don't have any presentations today."

"What do you mean, 'you don't have any presentations today'? Have you become even more lazy?"

"What are you even doing here when you're not even participating?"

"Are you ever going to pay your debt?"

At that point, America just wanted to bang his head on the table until there was a large pool of blood on the floor, but of course, he knew that he couldn't just do that, since it wouldn't have done anything for him. Instead, he just settled for resting his head on one of his hands, and waited for the others to just stop yelling at him. By the time they were finished, America decided that it would be safe to just rest his head in his arms on the table until the meeting was over. No longer, did he care for taking notes on what the other nations were presenting.

By the time the meeting was finally over, America immediately started packing up his things, and started to head out of the building. This time, instead of going out through the exit that every other nation was headed for, he decided to go through the one that people seemed to forget about. He was about to walk outside to be met with the gelid outdoors of Russia, but when he felt a tap on his shoulder, he immediately halted. Dread began to lurk within the pits of his stomach, but he turned around anyways to find that the person who was trying to grab his attention was Canada. America furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at the fact that his brother didn't appear to be angry with him, and wondered why anyone would want to be more welcoming towards him, so he decided to ask, while making sure that his hopes weren't too high, "Matthew, is there something you need?"

"Alfred," more confusion was prickling in America's gut when he heard the concern in Canada's voice, "You haven't been acting like your usual happy self lately. Is something wrong?"

A smile was now present on America's face, although, it didn't quite meet his eyes. If that wasn't enough to make Canada cringe, the laughter that followed right afterwards completed the scene. Perhaps to the less observant, America would've appeared to be fine, but being a shy individual, and hardly ever having someone to talk to, Canada was able to learn how to read the emotions of others just from being a spectator of everyone's actions, and it was almost as if they were a book with simple writing that even someone with poor comprehension skills could understand. Despite the fact that more worry was now present one Canada's face, America explained, "Please, Canada. There's really nothing for you to worry about. I'm fine. I was just a little tired today, that's all."

Canada sighed at this, almost ready to just give up, but instead, he continued to proceed, "Alfred, I'm your brother. You know that you can talk to me if something's bothering you. And you know perfectly well that I would never speak poorly of you, and obviously not gossip about your problems, because people just don't notice me anyways…"

He really did hate bringing up his loneliness to his brother, but Canada knew that it might have been the only thing that could possibly encourage America to open up to him. However, not even his last resort seemed to work on his stubborn brother, for his tone became slightly irritated, "Canada, I'm fine. You know perfectly well that I can handle what the other nations say to me."

Then, the smile returned to America's face as he added, "Besides, they're just being ignorant for not listening to my epic ideas. They'll see one day that the hero was right all along, so what's there to worry about?"

Canada still wore an expression of uncertainty. There really didn't seem to be as much heart put into America's small heroic speech as there usually was, but he eventually decided to not dwell on it any longer, and just tell him in a cautious voice, "Whatever you say."

With that said, America left in order to return to that hotel he was staying at.

As America continued to think about the events that led up to the calamitous meeting, and the current day itself, he hadn't even realized that he had passed the hotel he was staying at during his mindless wandering until he was right at the edge of some forest. Then, he glanced behind himself to see if he could find any familiar sidewalks that would lead him back to the hotel, but of course, since he was not paying any attention, he couldn't recall anything. America sighed at this, and returned his gaze towards the forest. He had a basic understanding of the Russian language (just as he did every language, since that was something required for a nation to know. At least, for the ones that had to interact with many other nations.), and could've just asked someone for directions, but decided against it, since he was starting to feel too ashamed of himself to want to be seen by anyone. Therefore, he entered the woods, hoping that he would never have to deal with another pair of judgmental eyes scorching through his already damaged ego ever again.

By the time he was in the middle of the forest, snow began to fall. At any other time when America was only wearing his bomber jacket with his regular clothes, a pair of boots, and a pair of gloves, he would've been furious with the sudden display of chilly weather. However, he was finding the slow pace in which the snowflakes were falling to be rather peaceful. For a moment, their captivating beauty was actually able to make him forget about his own personal conflict. Then he remembered that he was still in Russia, and he had already made it forbidden to find anything about that nation great in anyway.

Since his mood was now ruined by the fact that he remembered he was still in Russia, and he had just absentmindedly considered his snowflakes beautiful, he continued to trudge through the deep snow. His face was beginning to sting due to how frigid the air was becoming, but he really couldn't of cared less if he received frostbite at that moment. It probably wasn't even possible for nations to have a terrible case of frostbite that world require them to lose a body part anyways, since something catastrophic would have to effect their country in order for that to happen.

When America grew extremely exhausted from having pushed himself to walk through snow that was at least two and a half feet deep, a blizzard began to pick up, making it much more difficult for him to move forward. By the time his vision dimmed, due to how fatigued he was, America decided to just collapse in a pile of soft snow. Then, he curled up in a vain attempt to keep himself warm. After a while of just lying there and shivering, America looked around himself in hopes of being able to detect what was in his surroundings with his lack of clear vision, but was unable to see anything.

At that point, it didn't matter if America was still in the middle of the forest or not, for he could feel himself giving up on any motivation to keep himself awake. When he closed his eyes, a thought came to him, Maybe it would be for the best if I just froze here, and no one ever found me. They would never have to deal with how much of a loudmouth I am, or deal with my stupidity. Besides, maybe I'll eventually just die off if I stay frozen for long enough time. It may hurt my citizens for a while if they don't have someone to represent them, but they'll just find some other representative that's more qualified for the job than I'll ever be. Really, they're better off if I just die. I'm just so sick of the hardships of being a nation anyways, but mostly, I'm just sick of living this immortal life.

Tears began to fall from America's closed eyes as a smile of relief decorated his features. Of course, there was no guarantee that he would die if he went through with this, but even the thought of being forgotten was enough to fill him with glee. America continued to think about how much more functional he thought the world would be without him until he finally fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.