A/N: I tried to keep things as canon as possible, meaning you are as free to take something as a pairing as your imagination will let you, despite nothing actually coming right out and saying it.
"Good morning Belgium." Canada chirped happily, coffee mug in hand. He was early for the World Conference, that way he could greet people when they came in, hopefully raising awareness of his presence.
Belgium, however, kept walking by.
"A-ah, good morning, Belgium..." He tried again, tapping her on the shoulder. She jumped and spun around.
"Oh! I didn't see you there, America!" She smiled warmly
Canada sighed. "I'm not America, I'm-"
"Canada! Oh, I'm so sorry!" She covered her mouth as if she just said something foul, and blushed. Well, at least she remembered before he had to say it himself.
"That's okay," he mumbled, and she continued walking.
He huffed. Why couldn't people remember him? What made him different from any other country? Countries like Belgium were never forgotten, or France, or Russia... "Russia!" He piped up, as the tall, burly man brushed past him, nearly plowing him over.
Russia turned his head. "Hm? Oh, it's just you."
"Yeah, just me..." Canada muttered. "I was wondering..."
"Yes?"
"What is it that makes you so noticeable?" Canada rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, feeling a bit shaky talking to the frightening man.
"That is easy! People notice me because I am big! I am the biggest country there is." He stated proudly.
Canada blinked. "Oh! You mean by land mass!" He realized awkwardly, his face turning red.
"...That too." He tilted his head and smiled innocently, before following the path to the elevator.
Canada shook his head, choosing to ignore that last part. Russia was right, he was the biggest... But Canada was big too! He was the second largest country in the world. Even larger than Australia, and he's a continent! And if Russia kept on getting smaller, -not that anyone had the guts to say that out loud- maybe he would be first! But that could take decades, maybe even centuries. There had to be a faster way...
He shuffled down the hall when a paper airplane flew out of the adjacent room with the words 'Air Force One' scribbled on the side. Canada poked his head in the door, only to almost loose an eye to a second paper airplane whizzing past his head. "Hey America" he greeted.
America set the third paper airplane down in the desk innocently and grinned. Then his smile wavered. "...Do I know you?" he asked
"I'm Canada."
"Doesn't ring a bell"
"Canada. I'm your brother. I live right above you, I mean, right above you." America still didn't seem to register who he was. "I'm your biggest oil supplier."
"OH! HAHAHAHA! 'Sup bro!"
Canada winced at his brother's booming laughter. "I was just thinking... How attached are you to Alaska?" America blinked. "I mean, I-It would make more geographical sense if it was a part of me-" Canada was interrupted suddenly by a karate chop to the head.
"HAHAHA! That's a funny joke man! Well, not really that funny, but props for trying I guess. So, sense that was clearly a joke, what is it you really wanted to ask me?"
Canada figured it was best to just forget that idea. He rubbed his head sorely. "Well, W-What I meant to say was... How can I be more noticeable?"
"Noticeable?"
"Yeah, like you. Everyone knows who you are. You're the United States of America."
"That I am!" his grinned stretched across his face. "I'm the hero, and everybody knows it, no matter what Britain says!"
"So, what should I do?" Canada tried to get him back on topic
"For what?"
"To be more noticeable," he repeated, this time slightly louder, but just slightly. His patience for his brother could only stretch so thin.
"Well," America thought for a moment, "When was the last time you bombed the hell out of a Middle-Eastern Country?"
"...Excuse me?"
"People will definitely notice you then!" He said cheerfully
Canada just nodded his head. "Uh... Thanks, I'll take that into consideration... I guess..." not. He smiled and scurried off, leaving America to his airplanes. That was one scheme he tried not to follow his brother on... Though it seemed he could never hold true to his words.
Sense America's plan was certainly not an option, nor was Russia's; Canada's hopes were beginning to drown. He wasn't famous, he wasn't scary, and he wasn't old like most countries were... But not all countries were big and scary, he remembered, as Finland hopped past. "Hello Finland."
"Hello Mr. America! What can I do for you?" He said, his voice seeming a little nervous.
"I'm not America. I'm Canada."
"Canada?" He asked, looking up, as if that would spark his memory. "Oh, yes, Mr. Canada! I remember you now!"
"Uh, yeah. Listen, people notice you, and you're not big, or scary. What's your secret?"
"Simple! When you're not big or scary yourself, you just need to make big and scary friends!" He said sweetly.
"Hey, that's not a bad idea!" Canada shook Finland's hand, grateful for the first possible suggestion he'd heard that day. Big and scary friends he could do. He was good at making friends, that is, when his brother didn't ruin it for him...
"Big and scary, big and scary..." He muttered to himself, briskly pacing in the conference room, waiting for more people to show up. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he already had a lot of big and scary friends, but they were all so far away. America was his only neighbor, and they already had one of the most solid relationships in the world, though Canada often wondered how... Wait a minute; that was a lie! Greenland was pretty close by too... His eyes darted to the end of the huge, ovular table arrangement, where Norway was sitting. Canada bit his lip; he found him kind of creepy, the way his eyes seemed zoned out all the time. And from what he'd heard, he had just as many bats in the belfry as Britain. He walked over away. "Hi. I don't suppose you would know if Denmark is here yet..."
Norway looked up. "Do I look like his keeper or something?" He asked, looking through him, rather than at him, as if he was only half there. Most likely he appeared that way. Canada couldn't tell if he was annoyed or not; his face was just as stoic as usual, and his voice didn't hold a weaver like sarcasm was supposed to carry. For a second, Canada thought he actually wanted an answer, before he opened his mouth to continue. "Don't expect him to be here until we're ready to get started. He's never on time."
"O-Oh. Well, I'll just wait until recess then." Canada nodded his head and walked back up to the other end of the table, where his seat was. The Norwegian didn't bat an eye to his sudden abandonment.
The meeting was carried out as usual. America would suggest something stupid, England and France would start arguing over his stupid idea, and everything would go downhill from there. Things were quieted down by Italy's sudden burst of tears when he stepped on his own foot trying to escape France and England's escapade. Germany glared daggers at the two childish nations, before Italy nudged his shoulder like a wounded puppy. Germany didn't seem to approve.
Eventually they got around to actually talking about their long list of problems with the world. America brought up the recent chaos on Syria, and Russia innocently threatened that if anyone went anywhere near Syria, he and China would have to intervene. Canada wanted to stand up for America, but refrained from doing so. His boss wouldn't approve of him taking place in this conversation, and wanted nothing to do with the uprising country. Not that anyone would see him do it anyway.
The Netherlands suddenly spoke up about the GNI issues, and how some countries weren't paying the agreed percent to developmental aid. Sweden agreed, and that sure got their attention. Greece uncharacteristically spoke up about how he could barely cover his own nation, let alone someone else's. Britain muttered something about how he was close enough. Canada wasn't supposed to speak up about this one either... He just sat and listened intently like always.
Recess came after a few more discussions were had. Spain was trying to convince Romano that he could make pasta for him, and Romano insisted he always put to much tomato sauce on it, and swore before chasing after his brother angrily, who was bouncing up and down between Germany and Japan. Switzerland was escorting Lichtenstein out the door, urging her not to look anyone in the eye, and to hold his hand as they crossed the street when they got outside. Austria seemed quite unnerved about whatever Hungary had drawn in her little sketchbook, while she smiled innocently at him. Things were just as they always were.
Canada edged back over to the Scandinavians, who were now all there and accounted for. Sweden was muttering something inaudible to Finland, who just nodded his head frantically. He was always flighty like that, Canada realized, no matter who he was talking to. "Hey, I wanted to- I mean, do you want to be my friend?" He stuttered, and realized he didn't direct the question at any particular one of them, when they all turned their heads simultaneously.
"Denmark." He added, and blushed, embarrassingly. He was without a doubt intimidated by this group. Why were they all so weird? Well, they probably thought the same about him. But gosh darn it, he was on the Arctic Council with all of them, you'd think he'd be used to it by now.
Iceland nudged Norway. "Is that Vinland?" he asked quietly
"You wanna be friends with me?" Denmark finally responded. After Iceland's comment, he must've realized who the Canadian was. "I mean, of course you do! Who doesn't?" He added quickly and beamed. His teeth looked like they could cut metal.
"Well, it's just-"
"Sure." He interrupted him.
"Wha- Really?" Canada didn't expect that response.
"Yeah, of course," he continued smiling, "Just give me Hans Island."
"What?" Canada jumped back, "No! It's in my national waters!"
"No, it's in my national waters!" Denmark stepped foreword, and Canada was reminded how tall his current opponent was. He gulped. It was a lot easier fighting him long distantly.
"You know what? I think I'll just... Leave now..." He bit his lip and slowly took a few steps back, before turning around and briskly walked away.
That was a fail, just like everything else.
His head hung low as he trekked down the stairs. It seemed destiny just never had intentions of making him noticeable. Sometimes he wondered if he even showed up on a map. Perhaps he should just give up, accept his fate as America's hat. I mean, there had to be benefits too, right? No one ever scolded him for all his mistakes of the past like they did to everyone else, and no one ever tried to attack him in a long time. There were a few of the countries who remembered him, though some needed a spark to their memory first. But Russia never seemed to forget him, or the Netherlands. And Britain usually got it on his second try... Usually... France! France occasionally remembered who he was too. There were some exceptions. His brother remembered him when it was convenient for him, but considering America's lack of brain cells, that was the best he could ask for, really. Yeah, maybe it wasn't so bad being like he was after all...
Canada opened the doors to the street, and his denial was crushed. "Hey there, America!" Now an instinct, Canada turned around to see who was calling him.
"I'm not-"
"You think I'm made of money, huh? I knew I shouldn't have given you so much, I knew it!" Switzerland reached for the collar of his suit and pulled him foreword. Lichtenstein's eyes got bigger, (if that was possible,) and started pulling at the end of his jacket, trying to get his attention.
"Big brother, I don't think-"
"-And look what I get for not trusting my instincts! Give me my money!"
"Get in line, aru! He owes me first! Clock running out! Japan angry too, he just too polite to say so, aru!" China appeared out of nowhere, and for such a short guy, he was pretty intimidating when angry. Switzerland lifted him off his feet like he was nothing, and Canada squeaked.
"I'm not-"
"Switzerland, set America down, I'm sure we can work this out in a gentlemanly fashion." Thankful for England's interruption, Canada sighed in relief, than turned to face the man, only to be grabbed by the shoulders and shaken furiously by the Brit. "You irresponsible, block-headed twit! We want answers!"
Canada's eyebrows furrowed. "I'm not America, I'M CANADA! He owes me money too!" Britain suddenly set him down, and Canada huffed, not used to speaking so loudly. He felt proud of himself. That might've even given America a run for his money. Then, suddenly, the Canadian found himself up against the doors. England has pushed him.
"Nice try, but Canada never yells like that!"
"Who's Canada?"
"I think I know that guy, his boss a real snob, aru."
Canada sighed on the inside. The bright side of things was starting to get dark again.
A/N: I think my biggest problem is the weak ending; it kind of just cuts off, and not in a good way. Perhaps I will change it after more considerations/any suggestions reviewers are willing to give, (that is, assuming this will get reviews of course.) This is my first Hetalia fanfic, as well as my first one-shot all-together, so I am eager to hear any critique. But, if that isn't your forte, don't be afraid to review regardless.
Anyway, maybe I will write again, maybe not :)