Canada decided that he enjoyed visiting Russia's house.

It had been just a few weeks since the unlikely duo had become friends, but the larger nation had already invited Canada over to his home for 'lymonnyk and vodka.'

Canada, being the meek nation that he was, hurriedly accepted the innocently smiling country's offer.

Canada had initially expected a large, looming house in the middle of snowy woods; and he was right. However, he found that the interior was very cozy, and Russia's servants were so courteous...

This was where Canada found himself in his current predicament. He was standing in front of a large doorway, having already eaten, and was internally debating whether to open the door and have a peek inside.

The door had a decidedly ominous feeling to it; it almost radiated purple energy, similar to how Russia did when angered. However, according to Russia, this was where his room was.

Canada, being the shy and nervous nation that he was, didn't want to walk back down and bother Russia with asking if this was the right room, for fear of death by glare. So, with a deep breath, he twisted the handle and threw open the door.

And promptly nearly fell over.

As soon as he had stuck his head in the room, the pungent odor of strong alcohol had hit his nostrils, nearly making him faint. Holding his nose, he took another quick look.

It was a bit hard to make out with his eyes watering, but Canada managed to see the contents of the room before having to breathe. Then, his mind finally processing what he saw, the Canadian man sneaked another peek just to make sure.

He slammed the door behind him and leaned on it as he let out his breath. It was what he thought; thousands of bottles of vodka, stacked high on shelves that reached up to the arched ceiling. There was barely even any room to walk around the shelves.

Suddenly, Canada felt a presence looming over him. His blue eyes jolted open, and he slowly looked up, fearing the worst...

Sure enough, standing right over him, was Russia. He was wearing that incredibly creepy grin, and he was radiating a purple arua that consumed everything within two feet of him. He was also emitting a constant stream of kolkolkolkolkolkolkolkols.

"Comrade Canada, what are you doing outside of this room?" The large Russian said, his boyish voice unwavering.

Scared out of his wits, Canada forced himself to reply. "I-I th-thought that th-this was m-my room..." He whispered, not daring to look away from the large man towering over him.

"Oh, okay! So you are not America's spy!" Russia's demeanor immediately changed. His ghostly aura disappeared and he began smiling his genuine smile. "Your room is this way, Comrade Canada. Follow me, da?"

Russia led Canada to his room, which was a few doors down. "Have a good night!" The still smiling Russia added before closing the door and striding down the hallway, presumably to check if any vodka had been stolen.

Canada let out a sigh as he sat on the small bed next to Kumajiro.

"Who are you?" Kumajiro inquired.

"I'm Canada." Canada said with another sigh.