A/N: Hello, all! Hyperbole and Hetalia here! I'm alive! Surprising right? I know, I'm shocked, too! I bring you a little one-shot of brotherly antics! I've got another idea for another one-shot in this vein, too, but I make no promises. I know I haven't updated my lil' post-apocalyptic fic in a while… it's kind of evolving into a monster (kind of like the Night Things /shot/), but I'm still working on it!
So, this summer, my family and I went to Niagara Falls for a week, and part of our trip involved walking to Canada over Rainbow Bridge. My cousin is quite possibly my only relative to like anime, and after we passed a sign that said something along the lines of, "American and Canadian something-or-other," she and I ended up talking about the North American brothers our whole walk to Niagara Falls, Ontario. Then I read online that some people see Rainbow Bridge as a symbol of the friendship between America and Canada and… well… how could I resist some brotherly rambling? Sorry if it's dorky and not well written, I sort of wrote half of it in July and the other half today, and I don't feel like proofreading, so… Also, I probably adopted a lot of world elements from other people's fanfiction, so yeah! Anyway, enough of my ranting, on with the thing! (And no, June and the British girl aren't based off of me and my cousin, what are you talking about?)
Couples holding hands.
Poncho-wearing tourists with waterproof cameras.
Groups of joggers who didn't give the international boundary line a second glance.
Matthew leaned against the railing, drumming his fingers casually on the metal, and watched them all.
A wind was blowing over the Niagara River gorge that made Matt's hair whip into his face and the falls-bound tourists' ponchos flap around loudly. It was an unusually pleasant day to be outside, and it was making him quietly hate the thought of the five-and-something-hour-long drive he'd have to make to return to his duties in Ottawa.
A group of loud American kids ran by him, shouting in thick, obviously fake Canadian accents as they raced each other to the end of the bridge. Older voices shouted after them about passports and customs, but the children didn't seem to hear.
Matthew turned to squint into the wind, scanning the few faces on the American side for his brother. He knew that Al technically had a longer drive than he'd had, but he still hadn't thought he'd be that much earlier than him. Maybe traffic had held him up?
Alfred had spent the past few days in Rochester on some errand that his boss had sent him on to keep him busy. Matthew had been on a similar assignment in Toronto for the past week. He was supposed to be returning to his capital that evening, but since he didn't technically need to be back until the following morning, he hadn't seen it as terribly out of line to meet his brother on Rainbow Bridge.
It'd been ages since they'd seen each other in person. Sure, they did a lot of communicating online and through texting, but Matt had a hard time determining when his brother was joking about something stupid that way, and he was pretty sure Al hadn't been picking up on his sarcasm over text. They'd have normally seen each other at a world meeting by now, but after recent events, the nations had decided to move the venue of their meetings to an online, non-physical setting until the conflict had simmered over.
Matt understood the precautions, but they were inconvenient. Two or so months ago, Arthur had been kidnapped by a group of teenagers who had been, at the least, crazy (although it was more likely that they had had a yet-unidentified terrorist affiliation). The kids had apparently been planning to kill him and, although that wouldn't have meant a permanent death for Arthur, it would have meant economical disaster for England. Ever since, most nations had, among other things, been confined to their own countries. Al and Matt's bosses had both been insistent that they not leave their countries, going as far as to arrange so that they would be notified if either of them went through foreign customs.
However, that didn't mean that there wasn't necessarily a workaround.
"Mattie!"
Alfred appeared as if out of nowhere from where a small group of sightseeing Canadian girls had been only a few moments ago. He was wearing a Doctor Who shirt, a worn out pair of jeans and his trademark toothy grin, and he was moving toward Matthew at an alarming speed.
Before Matt could even get out a, "Hey, Al," Alfred had swept him up into a rib-crushing hug that quickly knocked the breath out of him. Matthew let out a surprised squeak and chuckled in amusement, trying to return the overbearing gesture with little success.
"Still as strong as always, eh?" Matt finally ground out after managing to get a tiny breath of air in his lungs. Alfred seemed to, miraculously, take the hint, and he released Matthew and took a step backward.
Matt looked around them and noticed that at least two of those Canadian girls had stopped and were giggling. A third appeared to have been trying to covertly take a picture of the display. He looked up at the flags fluttering in the breeze and noticed that, in his enthusiasm, Alfred had knocked them both completely onto the Canadian side of the bridge.
"You're breaking the rules," Matthew joked, jabbing Alfred in the ribs. Al tossed a look over his shoulder at the bronze plaque clearly labeled "International Boundary Line" and snorted.
"I haven't gone through Canadian customs. It doesn't count, dude."
"Your boss said you couldn't leave the country! This half of the bridge is Canadian, eh?"
"I still say it doesn't count," Al insisted, puffing his cheeks out like a child as he took three steps backward until he was on the American side.
For several minutes, the brothers just sat on opposite sides of the border and talked about nothing relevant. Alfred told Matt about some of the new stuff he was into, Attack on Titan and Minecraft and various British shows. Matt made fun of Alfred for opening himself up to "special relationship" comments from Francis by wearing Doctor Who stuff everywhere. The two swapped stories about their citizens and the hilarious stuff that some of them had been doing recently. Al complained about the cold. Matt complained about the heat.
"Canada!"
Matthew reacted instantly, his head snapping up and his eyes snapping immediately to the person who had called his name.
Two girls, one American and one exuding an aura that could only be at least partially British, were skipping, arm-in-arm, across the bridge from the American side. The American one, an almost-adult with curly hair and an anime shirt, pointed at the Canadian flag flapping above Matthew's head.
The other girl giggled and shouted, "Yusss!"
Alfred turned to look at the girls as well, an amused smirk bending his features at Matthew's knee-jerk reaction.
"Friendship!" the American girl shouted, making a rainbow with her free hand.
"Brotherhood!" the British girl chimed in at a slightly lower volume.
Matthew laughed and gave Alfred a look.
"Yours are loud."
"Nu-uh, man. Yours are just quiet."
The brothers watched the girls for a few minutes, amused. They appeared to be relatives—cousins, according to the British girl, who was babbling in a melodious British accent about the other girl being "the best cousin ever." The two seemed beyond excited to be going to Canada, which brought Matthew the slightest twinge of pride. The American girl—"June"—approached the border like one trying to sneak up on a cat, and straddled it for a few moments before jumping it completely. Matthew chuckled.
"Welcome to Canada, eh."
The girl flushed a bright shade of red and stammered incoherently for a few seconds, finally managing a "thank you, haha." Meanwhile, the British girl was straddling the border and shouting, "My butt crack is the boundary line!"
Alfred snorted. "Remind me to tell Iggy about that one."
The girls soon linked arms and skipped to the other side of the bridge, one shouting every few seconds, "We're in Canada!" and the other singing a song that sounded like "Canadian, Please."
Matthew looked at Alfred. "Told you it counts."
"Whatever."
For a few more minutes, the brothers just watched people cross the bridge, laughing to themselves at the antics of those around them. It wasn't long, though, before Al stood up with a sigh and stretched.
"Already getting too old to sit still for very long?" Matthew asked with a joking air.
"Haha, very funny."
"I live to entertain."
Alfred tossed a look over his shoulder at the sun, which was starting to dip below the horizon. Matthew followed his eyes, struck by how beautiful the sunset was, reflected off of the water rushing beneath them.
"I've gotta get back to D.C.," Alfred said reluctantly, puffing out his cheeks. "My boss is prolly gonna kill me as it is for this detour."
"Yeah, I should probably get going, too. I've got to be back in Ottawa by tomorrow morning, and I really don't feel like getting up early tomorrow to drive back."
"And you say we're nothing alike!" Al laughed.
"As unfortunate as it is, I don't think there's anything I could do that would make people believe we were less related, anyway."
"What-freaking-ever." Al stuck out his tongue to add to his point, which only succeeded in making Matthew laugh.
A particularly strong wind blew over them, and Al quickly retracted his tongue, crossing his arms across himself to shield himself from the cold. Matt frowned slightly as Alfred turned toward the American side once again. Alfred could be a pain in his backside, but he hadn't realized until the recent drama had gone down that he actually sort of missed his company when he wasn't around.
Alfred caught his look and grinned victoriously. Matt was quick to smooth any unhappiness over with irritation. In spite of his intentions, though, that just made Al laugh.
"See you around, Mattie!" he shouted, flashing his too-bright smile and waving enthusiastically, in spite of the fact that he was about four paces from Matthew.
"See you later, Al," Matt muttered in return, letting an amused smile touch his face for a brief second.
Matthew watched Alfred with a small touch of concern as he hurried back toward United States customs, hoping that he wouldn't do anything too stupidly obvious to make officers look him up. Technically they were all right as long as they didn't enter another country, but still… Alfred tended to get himself in unnecessary trouble on a regular basis.
Glancing down at the engraved plaque marking the boundary between the U.S. and Canada, Matthew smirked to himself and turned his back on the pair of flags, American and Canadian, flying on opposite sides of the border.
"We're always going to have to put up with each other, aren't we?"
