Disclaimer: I do NOT own Hetalia, the characters from it, or the idea.
The autumn wind blew a few stray leaves from the trees. Maple leaves, Mattie's favorite, fluttered down and landed in front of his sneaker. The Canadian leaned down and plucked up the leaf with a smile. Such a pretty color this one was. The shape, too, was magnificent. It was just one of those maple leaves that looked like it fell right off his flag.
Matthew started to put the leaf in his hoodie pocket when a small, off-white paw tugged at his pant leg.
Kumajirou shook his head. "Not another. You have, like, sixty thousand. Besides, it'll crumble after too long."
Matthew sighed and let the leaf drop. The bear had a point. As beautiful and perfect the leaf was, it would dry and crumble into dust long before its owner did.
The disadvantage of being a nation, though, is that the nation always outlives such perfect things.
A bitter breeze gust against him.
Canada shoved his hands into his red hoodie. His curly anlog fell over his face. He increased his pace. Of course, Matthew wasn't cold. He'd been raised in the cold. His body was nearly immune to winter, being part of the artic circle, but Matthew would rather be inside his home, curled up in front of the fire with a cup of hot cocoa.
The prospect of the drink made the Canadian smile. Hot cocoa, with mini marshmallows. He'd probably have to make something to go along with it, too. Maybe pancakes.
Kumajirou saw drool start to roll down his owner's chin. He was thinking of pancakes with a pat of butter and maple syrup. The blond pushed his glasses up from the tip of his nose.
"Come on, Kumajarilo!" Matthew said, as usual forgetting his pet's name.
"I'm coming—who are you again?" The bear returned the favor.
"I'm Can—"
FWEEEEET~! FWEET! FWEET! FWEET!
A bird fell from the sky, flapping its wings wildly. The bird let out one final 'fweet!' before it crashed to the ground at Matthew's left.
"Maple!" Matthew gasped, darting over to the little, yellow bird. He cupped his hands under it. The bird tweeted a bit, trying to move its wings and fly without success. Its pupils were pinprick size and looking around wildly.
"C-calm down, eh?" Matthew stroked the bird's beak to settle it and spoke softly. Slowly the bird frantic breathing calmed. The adrenaline left its bloodstream. With the only thing masking the pain from impact gone, the bird stopped moving, making low whimper-like sounds.
Matthew held the little creature against his chest then darted down the road, towards home. The bear blinked, confused, before loping along side his owner.
~~~Line break, eh?~~~~~
Matthew set the bird in a shoe box lined with a warm towel. The bird passed out in the Canadian's hands on the trip there. Its breathing was steady, and Mattie couldn't see any outward injuries, but the chick could be bleeding on the inside. It had a broken wing, that much could be seen. The right one, the bird held tight to its side. The left hung limply out to the side.
Kuma poked his nose into the box, sniffing the yellow chick.
Matthew swatted his nose. "No. Leave it alone." He had a phone in his hand. It was a tad late, but maybe she'd still be there…
Ring, ring, ring, r—
"Hello?"
"Caroline. It's Matthew Williams." He said, petting Kuma's head.
"I know who you are; We've been friends for five years, Mattie. So, what do you need?" Caroline asked. Matthew wet his lips. Caroline was a vet Mattie met a few years back, when she'd just gotten out of college. Of all his friends who didn't know he was Canada, she was the only one to know he owned Kumajirou.
"I bird crash-landed near my house. Could you look at it? I think its wing's broken."
"Oh, sure. My car's in the shop, but I'm still at the clinic. Bring it on over, Mattie."
"Thank you, Caroline."
"No problem, but you own me one!" She laughed aloud as she hung up. To be honest, Mattie probably owned her more than one, seeing how many times she's helped him with his pet. Said pet had taken refuge under the couch. Matthew might like going to visit Caroline, but not Kumajirou. She always seemed to stick him needles or put that damned thermometer in a place it definitely should not go.
If only…that one guy…gave him permission to talk to her like he does to…yeah, him…and the other nations.
Amused with his bear's reaction to the mention of Caroline, Matthew put the lid on the shoe box with a smile on his face. He didn't need Kuma to come with him, today.
The Canadian grabbed his keys. He paused at the door and told Kumajirou to hold down the fort while he was out. The bear agreed he would, so long as …the guy who feeds him…does not bring Caroline back with him.
Without promising anything, Mattie shut the door.
~~~~Line Break, eh?~~~~
Caroline's clinic, named Animals' Haven, was a small building with white, cement walls and a light blue roof. A corral was attached to the side. A horse tied up to a post outside looked up. As Matthew stepped out of his car, a vet came out to the horse. Mattie greeted the vet with a wave. The vet smiled, untying the horse.
The nation pushed open the door with his shoulder. "Caroline?"
"Mattie!" Caroline was a woman with short black hair and sharp, blue eyes. Matthew walked to the counter and gently set the shoebox down. Caroline raised a perfectly arced eyebrow then opened the box.
A frown pulled Matthew's lips downwards. The bird, it wasn't moving. Oh maple, it's dead! I brought Caroline a dead bird! I wasn't fast enough. He thought. I'm such a failure…
"Wow. What happened to you, little fella?" Caroline touched the bird. It stirred slightly. Matthew let out a sigh of relief. It wasn't dead.
"He just fell out of the sky next to me." Mattie explained. "I was walking home, and down he came, eh?"
Caroline nodded. "Odd. Good thing you brought him here, that wing is definitely broken." She picked up the shoe box. "I'll be back. You can sit over there, while I work on this guy."
The nation smiled and thanked the woman. She took the bird to the backrooms while Mattie sat. He looked around the waiting room. A few other people sat on the hard plastic chairs: an elderly woman knitting what looked to be a colorful scarf, a businessman fiddling with his phone, a young woman bobbing her head to her MP3 player, and a preteen idly playing with the wire-and-beads toy, a school book and unfinished homework abandon beside her.
Matthew twiddled his thumbs, singing his national anthem in his head.
The nation anthem of the U.S. of A rang through out the room. A blush crossed the Canadian's face as he fished out his phone.
"Sorry, my brother changed it again." He chuckled slightly, turning the phone to silent before opening the text.
Alfred: S'up, Canadia?
Matthew: That better be a typo, Al.
Alfred: Uh, sure…
Matthew: What do u want?
Alfred: Bored! Iggy was suppose to com ovr bt he hasn't! What r u doing?
Matthew: Bird got hurt near my house. So I took it to vet.
Alfred: bummer. Wait, the cute vet girl?
Matthew: Her name is Caroline, America!
Alfred: the cute1? I've seen pics of her. She's hawt, bro.
Matthew: I'm not interested in her. She is a friend!
Alfred: Uh-huh. Friend w benefits? ;D
Matthew: Like you and Arthur?
Alfred didn't response. Matthew couldn't help but smirked. It was rare he got a good jab in at his twin, and when it did happen, Canada couldn't help but feel proud he'd out done the United States of America.
"Um, excuse me."
Matthew looked up from the phone to see the preteen. She held her schoolbook in her hand. Her face had a quizzical expression.
"Yes?" Matthew smiled.
"Are you a vampire?" The girl asked.
"W-what? No, what makes you think that?" Matthew was taken back. He, a vampire? Where did this girl get such ideas? Oh yeah, that one American author and that book series…
The girl squirmed under his gaze before finally turning her book around. It said "Canadian History." She pointed to a grainy photograph with a caption about the modern Olympics.
Matthew swore inwardly. Grainy or not, he could see his smiling face in the picture along with the athletes. Sometimes it was easy to forget he'd been alive a few hundred years.
"See? This guy here looks just like you!" The girl cried. "You'd have to be a hundred-years-old!"
Matthew laughed. "Human can't live that long and still look this young, sweetie, and vampire don't exist."
The girl looked a little disappointed that he wasn't some awe-inspiring mythical creature, but it was okay. Most history books don't mention the nations. The thought that an entire country could be represented by a single person was unfathomable for most people to understand. Every so often someone would find a picture like the little girl did and make the connection, and attention would be called to the nations again.
It is not like they were a national secret or anything, something the government did not want the world to know. It was just that people forgot about them. No big deal.
Maybe this girl will look into it and remind this generation of us. Canada mused. The little girl left, looking hard at the picture.
"Matthew." Caroline called. Mattie looked up. "Come here, would you?" Matthew stood and walked over. The vet opened the half door and led him in. They went down the hall then into a small room.
The bird had a split on its left wing and a wrap around its leg. Other than that, it was fine. It turned and looked at Mattie for a long moment. A shudder ran through him. Something about its eyes…this wasn't a normal bird. It had that look of agelessness, of knowledge, beyond its species—like Kumajirou.
The bird yawned and settled down to sleep in the towel-lied the shoebox.
"Well, the bird's not hurt too much. He'll need a week or two before much can be done with that wing, but other than that, he'll make a full recovery." Caroline grinned, petting the bird with her finger. "I still would like to know what caused him to fall like that. There hasn't been any storms or anything lately, I don't think."
"Yeah, weird, eh? Could I take him home to heal? I've taken care of my friend's birds before." Mattie touched the bird's yellow feathers.
"That probably be a good idea. You're so good with animals, Mattie." Caroline giggled. Mattie picked up the box gently and thanked her both for the compliment and the medical care.
"No problem. Get home safe." The woman pecked the nation on the cheek just before he exited. "Bye, Mattie."
~~~~~Line break, eh?~~~~
Ludwig couldn't believe it.
It was a bird for Pete's sake! Just a little, yellow chick that clung to his head. He forgot about it more often than not. And yet—
"Gilbird! Gilbird! Where are you?" The albino cried, lifting a rug and checking under it for the chick. The German pinched the bridge of his nose.
"I'm sure he couldn't have gone far, bruder." Ludwig sighed. "I'll call outside. We'll find him soon."
"Gott, where is he? Did you say something?" Gilbert looked up at his bother. Germany swallowed the annoyance and swears that rose in his throat, before he repeated he statement.
"Ja! Good idea, West!" The Prussian tossed a pillow aside. "Mien poor little Gilbird… probably lost and hungry and without the awesome me!"
~~~~Line break, ja?~~~~
Kuma stared hard at the bird…whatever that guy's name is…brought back home. What's-his-face was staring too. The bird simply picked at its feathers and dressings.
"Can you talk?" Mattie asked. "Do you understand me?"
The bird looked long and hard at the Canadian before losing interest in the person. The bird knew this guy was a nation, so sooner or later he'd return the bird to his owner. The poor Prussian was probably going nuts without him there.
"Kamuarho, can you talk to it?" Matthew asked the bear.
The bear shrugged then made some grunting and growling noises to the bird. The bird titled its head then chirped. Kuma blinked.
"I don't know what he's saying…who are you again?"
"I'm Canada. I feed you."
"Oh, right."
The Canadian sighed and patted the bear's head. Something told him that this bird was like Kumajirou, a pet of a nation. One of those special animal companions who lived on through the ages with their respective country until the day the country was dissolved.
But which nation?
Matthew started making a list of nations he knew had pets: Himself, of course, America had that whale of his and a unicorn, apparently, Japan had a cute dog, Germany bred dogs for show or something, Estonia had those…things he bought off Ebay, one of the Nordics (he couldn't remember which) had a puffin, Australia and his creepy koala, New Wales—or was it New Zealand?—kept sheep, Switzerland kept some goats, and…France had birds.
Matthew hit himself in the forehead with his heel of his hand. How stupid could he be? This had to be one of France's Pierre birds! It probably got lost and fatigued before it fell.
"I'll call France in the morning, so I can get you home, okay, mon cher?" Canada smiled, having actually slipped into French half way through the sentence.
The bird just pecked at the towel, thinking Who are you?
~~~~~~Line Break, oui?~~~~~~
Francis stared at the huddle ball in the corner of the room. He sweat dropped slightly.
"What do you want me to do?" The Frenchman asked Ludwig.
"Help me."
Ludwig had been trying for three days to make his brother leave the house, eat, and, ugh, used the restroom. Thanks to two and a half kegs of beer and a funnel, the latter two of the tasks were accomplished.
Gilbert had his knees to his chest, rocking slightly and whimpering about his Gilbird.
"His bird is lost. You're his friend, do something." The German pointed at the Prussian. "Now."
Francis nodded, heading towards Gilbert (partly because Ludwig still scared him a little bit). The Frenchman leaned down and put a shoulder on his friend's. He wet his lips. Issues like this were more Antonio's area, not Francis. If Gilbert was in the middle of an issue of the heart, Francis would have a better idea what to do.
Whatever Antonio was doing, it better be damn important. Francis thought tartly, even though he knew the Spaniard was more than likely partaking in a siesta or watching a football game with Romano.
"Hey, Gilbert." Francis said softly. "What is the matter?"
"Gil…bird…my poor, awesome, little Gilbird. He's unawesomely gone." The man whimpered.
Francis looked at Gilbert's younger brother. Ludwig shrugged. Neither would have guessed Gilbert's sanity was so dependant on having that yellow chick around.
"It's all right." Francis tried to sound reassuring. "I bet he found a pretty, little dove, and he and she are—"
Buzz, buzz, buzz.
Francis whipped out his phone, earning a glare from Ludwig.
Mathieu: Hey, did you lose one of your Pierres?
Francis: No. I don't think so. Y?
Mathieu: Oh. I found I yellow bird by my house, and I thought it might be yours. Srry to bother you, then.
Francis pursed his lips. A bird? A yellow bird…No way it could be that easy, no way.
Francis: Sent a picture, Mathieu.
Mathieu: Um, sure…?
PING!
A smile crossed France's lips. "Gilbert, you'll never guess what Canada found."
~~~~Line Break, oui?~~~~
Matthew sent the phone aside, confused. Francis said he wasn't missing any Pierres. Why does he want a picture? Maybe bird is a new slang word for pretty girl…or maybe a pretty guy?
The Canadian rested his chin in his hand. The bird turned its beak up at the seed Matthew sent down. Mattie sighed then took another bite of pancake. The bird was on the kitchen counter. Kuma crawled into the chair beside his owner.
"He doesn't like it." The bear stated.
"I can see that."
"Hmm… I know." Kumajirou put a paw on Mattie's plate and slid it over to the bird. "Here."
Matthew nearly jumped up, about to yell, when the bird chirped happily, eating up the pancakes. Sticky syrup stuck to its feathers, but the chick didn't seem to care.
"He likes people food." The Canadian said.
"Fweet!" The bird chirp through a beak-full.
Matthew's phone rang. Probably France again.
Alfred: Guess what—and don't say chicken butt.
Matthew: What?
Alfred: Guess~ Guess~
Matthew: I'd rather not.
Alfred: Okay, I'll tell u.
Alfred: I totally got laid.
Matthew:…why would I want to know that?! DX
Alfred: Cuz ur my bro and bros talk about having sex w/ Englishmen?
Matthew: I'm blocking you from my phone.
Matthew shudder, completely disgusted. Up until recently Mattie always thought that Alfred and Arthur's relationship was akin to his and Francis', a platonic brotherly one or a father-son one. That is, until the Fourth of July when he'd found the two of them in a very awkward position on the kitchen floor.
Thank maple Francis dragged him out of the room, before they could notice him.
That wasn't the first time he'd witnessed two nations…in the act. A world meeting not too long ago ended with everyone walking in on a certain Spaniard and Italian. Matthew still wasn't sure what half of those swears Romano used were.
It was starting to become a more common sight among the nations. Nations were near immortal, living for centuries and centuries while remaining youthful and vibrant. Humans live for about a century, tops. A long-time relationship with one of them was more-often-than-not off the table.
Nowadays, though, more and more governments were recognizing and allowing such relationships, even if they were between two men.
A stone fell into Matthew's stomach. He wondered regularly if he'd ever have to tell his boss he was in a relationship with another nation. He highly doubt it. No one ever noticed him. France and America remembered him a lot more than everyone else, sure, and Cuba and England were always nice to him, even if they did think was his brother once in a while, but those were about it.
Canada just wasn't memorable.
He'd walked in on the middle of a G8 meeting, and no one even glanced up, even as he tripped over the rug and crashed into the water set beside Italy. They only freaked out that the water 'mysteriously' spilled all over the Italian.
Sometimes Matthew wondered if he should just stay in his homeland. He bet no one would even care…
Kuma knew that look on his owner's face. Whoever that blond was…was depressing himself again. The bear stuck his head under the man's hand. Ensuring his want to be petted became known.
Matthew smiled softly, stroking the bear's head.
Mattie's phone sang his anthem.
If it's Alfred again, I'm going to kill him in his sleep with a hockey stick…
Francis: Prepare yourself.
No sooner had the Canadian finished reading the text did someone pound on his door, yelling in German. Matthew put the phone in his pocket and headed to the door. He opened it to find Gilbert, pointing a gun in his face.
Mattie's violet eyes widen. "P-Prussia? What are you doing?"
"Where is mien bird, Canada?" The Prussian hissed.
"Bird…? Please tell you mean an actually bird, not your five—"
"Fweet!"
Kumajirou trotted out of the kitchen with the syrupy little chick on his head. The bear stopped beside his owner and sat. The bird chattered happily, waving his good wing around to get the Prussian's attention.
"Mien Gilbird!" Gilbert shouted, scooping up the chick. "I was so unawesomely worried. I thought something happen—what happened to mien bird's wing, Canada?" He pointed at the bandage around Gilbird's wing.
"That? He crashed, eh? Yesterday, he fell out of the sky. I took him to a vet, because I thought he might be hurt." The Canadian explained. Gilbert looked at the bird, then to the blond, then back, then the bird, then repeat.
"You took care of Gilbird?"
"O-of course. He was hurt, eh?"
"Can you hurry up? I want pancakes! Pancakes!" Kuma whined. "Hurry up!" Matthew told the bear he shouldn't interrupt, it was very rude. The polar bear, of course, rebutted with that, saying it didn't matter, he was hungry.
It was during this conversation that Gilbert had found that his chick was stuck to the palm of his hand, along with a sizeable amount of white hair. The Prussian turned his hand over. The bird remained stuck fast. He lifted his hand up then lowered it. The chick didn't move.
The Prussian's eyes shone.
"…Awesome, I'm a chick magnet!"
Matthew couldn't help but wonder how long Gilbert been waiting to use that.
~~~~Line Break, ja?~~~~
After successfully cleaning the syrup off of all parties present, save Mattie, the group settle into the kitchen.
The chant "Pancakes! Pancakes! Pancakes!" rang in Matthew's ears from the crowd behind him. Gilbert had sampled some of Gilbird pilfered pancakes and demanded that the blond make more: 'Mien awesomeness demanded it, so it will be done.'
Canada watched with interest as Prussia shoved a whole pancake in his mouth. As Gilbert chewed, he cut a piece off another pancake and handed it to Gilbird. The bird chirped and happily took the piece.
"Canada, you make awesome stuff—although not as awesome as my cooking, of course!" The Prussian declared, spitting bits of food on the table.
"Um, thank you—and you can call me Matthew if you want." Mattie informed him.
"Ja, sure, Matthew." Gilbert nodded. "I think I can remember that."
The Canadian laughed bitterly and murmured. "Uh-huh, sure." Gilbert didn't even look, provided he heard the comment.
Once Gilbert finished off his seventh pancake, he leaned back in the chair, patting his stomach. These pancakes things were almost as good a wurst—almost. Wurst was still more awesome.
Matthew covered a smile. It was always nice to see someone who liked his cooking. An ability France swore to the grave Mattie inherited from him, not Britain, much like his hair.
Abruptly, Gilbert pushed his chair away from the table and stood. He stretched his arms above his head. Gilbird chirped and flapped his wings to try to fly up to his owner's head. With his broken wing, the chick barely jumped a few centimeters off the ground. The chick sighed, flopping onto its bottom.
Matthew leaned over the table and picked the bird up. He stood and walked over to the Prussian, holding out the chick. Gilbert took him in his hand. His red eyes gazed at Gilbird, who was just happy to be close to his albino owner again, for a moment before nodding to himself.
"Okay, the awesome Prussia has decided!" Gilbert announced loudly. "Mattie, I will be awesomely gracious and do anything to repay your kindness." He paused then his hand shot out, gripped the hem of Matthew's hoodie, and tugged it up. The Prussian eyed the body hidden under the red fabric.
"Ack! Hey! Gil—Prussia! What are you doing?" Canada grabbed at Prussia's hand.
"Ja, alright." Prussia dropped his hand and smirked. "Matthew, I will do anything to thank you for taking care of Gilbird—anything." His eyes glazed down at Mattie's body again. A blush shot across the Canadian's face.
"I…I-I don't want that!" Matthew sputtered out. "I mean, it's fine, eh? I was doing what any person would do, eh? I—" Gilbird chirped, cutting Mattie off. Shaking his head, Matthew cleared his thoughts. He opened his mouth to tell Gilbert he didn't need him to thank him, when he stopped himself.
Matthew swallowed. "Actually…there is one thing you could do. You don't have to, though, if you don't want."
"The Awesome Prussia can do anything!" Gilbert declared. "From cleaning to concurring, I can do it all!"
"It's not cleaning, but," Mattie took a deep breath, steeling himself for rejection, "would you like to spend time with me, outside of nation-related functions?"
"Who are you?" Kuma asked, having watched from the floor.
"He's Matthew." Gilbert said. "He just made pancakes and asked me on a date."
Mattie gasped and shook his hands in front of him. "N-no! Not a date—just to hang out, get to know each other."
"Like a date."
"Not a date!"
Gilbert laughed. "Well, on this not-a-date date, I accept. The awesome me will grace you, Mattie, with my awesome presence. Thank me for it." Matthew did not pointed out that the not-a-date date Gilbert's thanking of Mattie, not the other way around, but thanked him anyway.
~~~~FIN, eh?~~~
Longest oneshot I've ever written! Anyway, I've been in a PruCan mood lately (this story isn't really, PruCan, though…*_*' ) and decided to write this after doodling a pic of Canada with a bird falling out of the trees (the cover, even if I forgot his glasses). So, yeah. Not really romantic or anything, maybe a little at the end, if you squint. Not really fluffy, either?
What IS this?!
So, anywhoodles~ might write a squeal, might not.
~Waveripple