A/N: Yaaaay, snapped!Canada! I love snapped Canada so much, I really do. I know I should be working on my other hetalia and Inuyasha Fics, but I got a Flame on one of them, and honestly it made me lose any actual want to finish the stories. Sorry if the spacing is weird. But anyway, at the current, I type this while there is a small aftershock going on. Go away earthquakes. Nobody wants you. Anyway, R&R and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own hetalia, the only thing I own relevant to hetalia is a Canada plushy. It is adorable! I also do not own the song Matryoshka.


"Who?"

"Um…sorry , but who?"

"Matthew? I'm sorry, I've never seen you before."

"Matthew. familiar. Have I seen you before?"

I don't even even know if this message

that I'm overly concerned with will reach anyone

"Mathieu? That sounds really familiar, do we know anyone called that?"

"Who the hell is Matthew?"

"Matthew Smith? No? The other Matthew? There's another Matthew? Since when?"


Every. Single. Day.

Who?

Matthew Williams people. Not that hard to remember.

M-A-T-T-H-E-W W-I-L-L-I-A-M-S.

Or Mathieu, Matvey, whatever floats your boat.

Surely, forever and ever, I will be

a mad Matryoshka covered in patches.

My name is Matthew Williams and I am invisible. Seriously. No joke. I've had people sit on me; my family forgets that I am part of them (try explaining to your mom at 5 in the morning that, no you are not a hooligan, and yes you are the younger of the twins that she had)

Which bring me to my brother. Twin in fact. He is Mr. Popularity. If you haven't heard of Alfred F. Jones (he has our real dad's last name, I have our Mothers middle name. Her last name is Bonnefoy), then you must live at the bottom of a garden pond or something similar to that.

My headache is singing about a package.

The clock's hand is stuck at 4 o'clock.

Bright blond hair, sky blue eyes, 5000 watt smile, is naturally good with sports and people. All in all? Not me.

I have dirty blond hair, violet-blue eyes, rarely talk, tall and lanky, I friggin' disappear into the woodwork when someone talks to me, and the only sport I'm good at is hockey.

Hockey is my life. If I could, I would play hockey 24/7. The only time I ever get noticed is when I play hockey.

Apparently when I get on the ice, I am amazing. Graceful and deadly. A bullet. But even then, "who's that person?"

"I dunno, never seen them in school before."

"He looks kinda like Alfred."

"Hey yeah, doesn't Alfred have a bro? Martin or something like that…"

No one would tell me why,

But the world has begun to rotate in reverse.

Wednesday Nov 7th , 1:43pm, Hetalia High

Someone bumps into me as I walk to class.

No apology. But, oh well, I'm used to it.

As usual, the teacher can't see me and I have to go up and remind him that I am here.

Again.

I'm partnered up with someone. I know who they are. They don't know me. As always.

God, I hate that word so much.

Who.

Who.

Who.

I hate it so much.

What?

What?

Great. I'm going Bi-polar and insane now.

Most probably.

Again, what?

Yes?

Who are you?

I'm you Mattie.

Me?

No, stupid. I'm your brother.

So you're me.

Yes you. The you that has the passive-aggressive rants, the you that turns into a beast in hockey, the you that is the other you.

Yup. Definitely bi-polar.

Fine. Sure. Whatever makes you happy. Anyway, I have a proposition for you.

Really.

Fine. What is it.

Awesome, ANYWAY.I was thinking-

So I was thinking? Because if you're me, than I'm you. And this idea of yours, I'm pretty sure I never thought it.

Yes, yes you did actually did think it. And you don't even know my idea, but you will soon.

So what is this amazing idea of yours? Ours. Whatever.

Sooo, you remember last Friday's hockey practice riiight?

Vividly. I beat up Ivan. And now the Russian that scares the absolute shit out of everyone is scared of me.

Aaaand you remember how surprised everyone was, right?

Yeah….?

So I was thinking that you should call out your inner bad-ass Canadian-ness and show everyone that you are not just "shy Matthew"

That idea is impossible.

Whyyyy..?

Because I have to be angry or frustrated for that to work. Really angry.

Ah, I'm about to crack and burst,

so I throw away all of my memories.

So? I think that it would be fairly easy, considering the things people have done to you

Plus, I was in my hockey "rage mode"

Then channel that "rage" of yours, and use it, or I WILL be forced to take, unnecessary means to get you out of your shell

You are me. I really don't think you could do anything

You would be surprised ghost-boy

Ghost-boy? Really? Is that the most original thing you could come up with?

Just consider it, kay? See ya later!

HEY, hey, hey waaaait, what? Hello inner self? What the fuck was that? Dear god, I'm going insane. But….what did I-he mean by unnecessary? That was ominous sounding. And now that I think about it, I have thought about actually being somewhat more aggressive, but last practice was the only time that I've really gotten mad enough to snap.

Flashback Type Thing

These are NOT lyrics, but if they are underlined then they are.

Last Friday, Nov 2nd 7:30-ish, Hetalia rink(A/N:sorry for such an un-imaginative name)

"M-matthew speaking."

"Hey! Mattie,! Bro, sorry, but I can't pick you up tonight"

"W-w-why?"

"Gonna go chill with Ali and Franny and we need the truck to go over to Yao's because he live a trillion miles into the middle of nowhere you can totally get a ride with someone so you'll be good. K thx Bai!"

He hung up on me. Damn, who was I supposed to get a ride with now? I could figure it out, we still had thirty minutes of practice, I could totally find a ride. Yup. Totally. And while we're at it, why don't I go see how popular I am, and how I woo girls with just one glance?

"Hello Matvey."

You hate me universe. You hate me so much, it's not even funny how much you hate me.

Out of ALL the people to notice me, you get him.

Ivan Braginski.

6"6, still has his Russian accent, on my hockey team, is large, but I know that it's mostly muscle. He hates Alfred with a passion, and has the creepiest smile in existence. If Ivan wants you to do something, you do it. It's rumored that he carries around a steel pipe to beat people up with. But the worst part? He HATES me even more.

Why?

Because I'm the only one that can beat him in hockey. The team has a running tally of games we've played against each other, and I'm ahead by 4.

So he takes every chance he has to make my life miserable. Because no one wins against him.

"What is wrong Matvey? Has Alfred abandoned you again? Not that I could blame him, after all who'd want to be seen wiv you? Oh wait, never mind, no one would see little Matvey anyways. So he must have forgotten you."

"P-please s-s-stop I-Ivan."

"But why? It is so very fun to tease Matvey after all."

" Cou-could you just stop, please?"

A bit of desperation leaks out at the end of the sentence. It makes him smile even more.

"Poor livle Matvey, forgotten by everyone, who will you run to when you finally break?Or when that livle bear of yours is sent to the trash?"

Most of the time, it takes more time for me to snap. But today, something in me just snaps. Maybe it's because we've just finished a game. Maybe it's because he's indirectly threatened my only comfort object. Maybe it's because I'm really sick and tired of people in general.

Ah, I want to know,

all the way to the bottom.

"Ivan."

"Yes, little Matvey?"

"Shut up."

"What?"

"Shut up Ivan. Shut the absolute fuck up."

"Aww, little Matvey is getting angry."

By then the rest of the team had gathered around. Not many people argued with Ivan, and came out moving or vaguely alive-ish.

"Ivan. I told you to shut up. Please do. If not, then I will make sure that the emergency room becomes your best friend within the next minute or so."

A collective sound of gasps comes out of the small crowd watching us. I can hear the whispers of bets going around the crowd, and surprisingly a few of the are for me.

" Braginski 'll crush him."

"Nah man, little dudes fast and quick. He'll totally own the Russian"

Ivan is smirking at me now. The smirk that looks really, really out of place on his childish face. That smirk is only seen when he is about to utterly whoop someone's ass.

Last time that smirk was seen, 3 guys got sent to the hospital with broken jaws and arms.

I don't care.

For all I know at this point he could be dancing the Macarena or wearing a clown's wig. I could feel all the hate and sadness and absolute anger compiled together leak out. Not all off it, but some of it. And so I let it go.

Uh, would you please dance even more?

Kalinka? Malinka? Just pluck the strings.

I punch Ivan. In the face. And it feels awesome. He reels back looking shocked, holding his nose, and I punch again, upper cutting him.

I keep punching, kicking and doing whatever I can, to inflict injury on him. I am faintly aware of cheering and the feel of a bone or something breaking under my foot. The cheering stops, but I keep on going. Smashing, and smashing his face. I can feel arms trying to hold me back, and I wrench away.

Where is Ivan?

Somehow, they've dragged him away, while the arms were trying to hold me back. I can still feel the adrenaline pumping through me, and I can feel it wearing off. My surrounding are fuzzy, and I realize that my head hurts a little and my hands are covered in something reddish.

The silence is deafening.

I look to the side. I really shouldn't have.

I feel a mixture of guilt and pride.

The guilt: I gave someone that bad of an Injury.

The pride: I beat up Ivan. The Ivan. No one else has done that before. I will totally get noticed for this.

I can hear the whispers.

"Dude…he just beat up Ivan. The Ivan. That guy is IN-SAYNE."

"Holy shit. Did you see his face? It looked like he was gonna kill Braginski."

" Pffft, from how Braginski looks now, he probably was."

I can feel a really huge blush starting form. Oh My God. I just totally snapped. That was really embarrassing.

I look over at Ivan again. His nose is broken, he has two black eyes, and looks like he's passed out. His arm is broken now.

Well then. I just stand there feeling awkward.

The coach afterwards lectures me, and bans me from playing for 2 months. Dammmit.

But that was really fun. I should do it again sometime soon.

What should I do with this kind of emotions?

Won't you please tell me?

Monday, Nov 5th 10:00 Hetalia High

The bell rings as I walk into the class, and the only empty seats are near Ivan. He wears a cast, and an unhealthy amount of bandages and Band-Aids. Eeeeh. I am so screwed when he gets better. He's gonna make my life a living hell. I suck it up, and sit next to him. He doesn't notice. For once I am so incredibly thankful for my invisibility. And then attendance starts. The teacher calls my name as absent, and I have to go up, and remind the teacher that I am here.

I get up, and totally avoid looking at Ivan. When I sit down, I glance out of the corner of my eye, and see something that confuses me. Ivan is shaking. And not the "Haha, I'm trying to keep my laughter in" but a "Oh dear god, I am going to die now" type of shaking.

Strange.

I decide that, after school, I'm gonna apologize to him. After all, I broke his arm and

nose. The least I can do is apologize.

3:05pm

I wander through the gates looking for the tall form of Ivan. Being taller than almost everybody here, should make him fairly easy to find, right? Nope. I can't find him anywhere.

There! I see him and I quickly jog over to him, before I lose sight of him.

"I-Ivan!"

It looks like he hasn't heard me, so I call his name, but louder.

"I-I-IVAN!"

I see him turning around, look at me, go white, and speed walk away. Well, that's sort've understandable to not want to talk to the person who beat you up, but this is Ivan!

This dude is the scariest there is!

Unless….

He's truly and really scared of me. I decide to test that theory.

I try to make my voice as mad sounding as possible, and yell…

"I-VAAN!"

He breaks into a full out sprint.

Awesome.

The signal reception is good, 5-2-4 !

Freud? Keloid? Just hit the keys.

Let's just laugh everything off.

Hurry up and dance, you group of fools!

End of Flashback Thing

Damn it. Just thinking about how it was to beat him up, and see him shake in terror, from me, is making me feel weirdly happy. I loved the feel of power.

Or how it would be to beat someone else, kicking their gut in until-

The bell rings, interrupting that strange path of thought. I get up, and start walking towards the door, when someone pushes by and knocks me over. I sigh, and get up, not expecting an apology, and I don't get one. Until…

"Hey, asshat! Yeah you, the one with the sandy-ish hair. Watch where you're going. People might think you're blind, if you keep walking like that. But you must be blind, with eyebrows like that. Those things are monsters! Do you have a family of hamsters living in there?!"

Oh. Dear. God. He/I did not just do that. The person he was insulting, turns around, and I inwardly shudder. Dear god, those eyebrows are huge.

But I shudder even more, because the person, who was just insulted, is the student body president and all around stuck-up prat, Arthur Kirkland. Physically, this guy isn't very threatening.

But he has the power to kick you out of any club, or activity. So you did not want to get on his bad side. Which I was pretty sure I just did.

"E-excuse me? What did you just say?"

Now's my chance to apologize!

"I said your eyebrows are huge, fuzzy brows! They're so big, you could nest rats in them!"

Daaaammn itt.

Together let's clap our childish hands

to this intentionally deranged rhythm,

"…..!I have never heard someone speak so rudely to me before!How uncouth!"

"Lol, you said 'uncouth'. Who the hell says THAT anymore?"

Arthur is starting to get flustered, and is stuttering and mumbling. This is way more fun than it should be.

"Mighty queen Arthur, reduced to blushing and mumbling? I must be more of a charmer than I thought."

"Sh-shut up git. Stop th-thinking so high of y-y-yourself. Who a-are you anyways? I've never seen you around this school before."

I snort at that last comment.

"Nope. Self-confidence is good thing. Besides, you should all remember the name Matthew Williams. Cuz that's the name that's gonna be all that you're gonna be talking about for the next while. Because I'm going to show you what bad-ass and awesome really is."

What am I doing? What am I doing?!

Dude, I'm doing you a favour. Now, all you have to do, is live up to peoples expectations.

But I don't know how to be "bad-ass", I'm used to being unnoticed! I can't do that. Maybe if I stop now people won't remember! Maybe they'll forget!

Nah man, you just got into an argument with the student prezzie. And started winning. No way are people gonna forget you now.

Why am I winning an argument with him any way?

Because he doesn't know you. He's never noticed you, so he has no blackmail to argue against you with. So you have the upper hand.

Why do you keep referring to me as the person arguing? I'm not, you are!

But I'm you Mattie. Just, not the normal you. I'm the inside you.

B-but….

Surely, I couldn't care less about everything.

The world's temperature is beginning to melt.

So embrace it Mattie. Embrace the freedom that comes with being seen, and making attention. Be seen. C'mon, you know you want to….

Fine.

Whoa, really?

Yes.

Sweeeet. Let the madness begin.

That's not that reassuring at all.

Meh, whoever said that this would be calm?


January 12th 12:26

My life has successfully gone to hell in a hand basket. I should probably re-introduce myself now, with how much everything has changed.

Hello, my name is Matthew Williams, and I am one of the most known students in the school. Why, you ask? Because I'm a scary and dangerous (yet hot, apparently) person. I can make the Ivan Braginski shudder in fear. I am a monster when I get on the ice. If you don't listen to me, then no one listens to you, because you'll be in the hospital. I make the freshmen tremble and the seniors wish they could get out of school now.

I want to sit at this table, and you're sitting at it? Too bad, I'm sitting here. Now move. Oh, you want to date me? Sorry, I don't date sluts.

Most people would be all "But I don't want this sort've attention! I want people to likeme, not be scared of me!"

Guess what? I love it. People are terrified. Mothers shoo their children into the house when I pass by. Whispers of "that Williams kid" are always around. Parents warn their children about me. My parents wonder what they did wrong.

You and I, having a rendezvous? A rendezvous?

Or maybe a unimaginable adventure (adventure)?

With a crooked stepping, 1, 2, 1, 2.

My brother is terrified of me. He used to take total advantage that I was a pushover, and only really remember me when he wanted something. Not since I "showed" him how much I wasn't a pushover anymore.

His nose is still crooked.


May 2nd

It's the same. It is still the goddamn same. I'm still lonely. I'm still isolated. No one talks to me. It's like I'm invisible, but a crude mockery of invisible. People are still whispering about me. If I even look their way, they turn away, and hope that I don't talk to them. Except this time, I know that I can never go back. I can never really make friends anymore. My reputation is like a huge cloud above me.

I guess I'm like a bad apple. Sweet and tender on the outside, but bitter, worm filled and sour on the inside.

Remaining Lyrics to the song

Ah, with your two hands,

please take me in.

Uh, would you please listen to my important talk?

Kalinka? Malinka? Just pinch my cheeks.

I'm telling you, I can bear this no longer.

Shall we try something even more wonderful?

Don't cry while screaming "It hurts, it hurts!"

Parade? Marade? Just clap a bit more.

Asking you to wait, I wait and wait,

before I become completely alone.

You and I, having a rendezvous? A rendezvous?

Or maybe a unimaginable adventure (adventure)?

With a crooked stepping, 1, 2, 1, 2.

Drink yourself wasted! Sing! Today, too,

I'm a mad Matryoshka covered in patches.

Uh, would you please dance even more?

Kalinka? Malinka? Just pluck the strings.

What should I do with this kind of emotions?

Won't you please tell me?

The signal reception is good, 5-2-4!

Freud? Keloid? Just hit the keys.

Let's just laugh everything off.

Dance quickly, and get out of my sight!

*kiss kiss

A/N:So…good?bad? I keep thinking that inner Mattie looks like Prussia. I don't even know why. But review if can, and people who fav and don't review, don't think that I don't see you. Please leave a review if you can. Flames will be used to heat my house, because at the current moment, it's snowing out.