The general hustle of the meeting was strangely quieter than usual, England and France not fighting, and America talking uncharacteristically quietly. "So... I was, um, wondering if I could have the 2010 Olympics... if that would be alright." There was nods of agreement all around.
Germany, who was leading the meeting, also nodded. "Yes, that will be alright. No one seems to be disagreeing with having it in America. Here are the papers you need to have filled out by the next meeting. Any questions?"
"Well no, but I'm not Ame..." The blond country was interrupted by a rather loud look-a-like who bounded in the door, hamburgers in hand.
"We really need to either make these meetings shorter or put a McDonald's in here."
The room stared. The loud America walked over to the other one, hardly even noticing he was there. France stood up. "Which one is the impostor?"
One of the America's was about to respond when England stood up as well. "The impostor must be a shape-shifter! Luckily, I know that spraying water on him will make him show his true form!" With that, Arthur took his glass of water and threw it on them, making sure to get both America's wet.
The room was silent, waiting for something to happen. Then one of the America's looked to the other, seeing him finally. "He isn't a shape-shifter, he's... um... my Neighbour to the North!"
"Canada." Matthew corrected, used to Alfred forgetting his name.
"Of course, Canary."
France cocked his head to the side. "You have someone to the North?"
"Yup. Surprised me, too." America took out his trusty map of America and pointed to above himself, which was just white. "He's like here somewhere."
Germany took the American map and compared it to his world map. "I always wondered why the shape was different. I just figured you couldn't draw." He shrugged and put both maps down. Everyone else sat back in their seats.
Canada sat down, wiping water off of his papers. At once everyone went back to doing what they were doing before, forgetting about the second largest country.
.oOo.
England looked at the morning paper, totally confused. He picked up his phone and dialled the number he insisted he didn't know by heart. "America? I just got the paper, and it says the Olympics will be held in Vancouver. I don't think I've ever heard of this state. Where abouts is it? Near California?"
"No... Vancouver? Sounds kinda familiar... But I don't remember having the Olympics in America. Maybe it's a place in Australia?" Alfred took a bite of his hamburger, lovin' it.
"I don't think so..." England was interrupted by his door opening and his most-hated person in the world peeking his nose in.
"Angleterre? I have a question." France said, holding up a paper.
"I just phoned him. Vancouver isn't in America."
"How about..."
"Not Australia, either. Maybe Germany knows." He hung up the phone, dialling another number. This one, however, he didn't know as well, so he got it wrong. But as soon as the other end picked up, he asked, "Where is Vancouver?"
A meek voice was on the other end. "E-England? Vancouver is in British Columbia. You know, Canada. Me"
"Oh... yes of course. Well, thank you, Canal." Arthur once again hung up the phone.
"Well? Where is Vancouver?" Francis asked, curious.
"It's in someplace British, of course. It's better than someplace French, so I'm fine with it."
.oOo.
The downhill skiers zoomed past the flags, expertly swerving around them. America was in the lead, followed by Germany. They made it to the bottom of the slope and the announcers went wild! "America wins! Germany second and... wait... what?" The confused man looked at the replay of the race. America had certainly been first, but there was a blur right after him, that almost looked like a person...
The Canadian announcers were already on the ball. "Canada got second!" The Canadian stands errupted in polite clapping, with the ocasional whistle.
The next event Matthew was in was Hockey. He couldn't wait to get out onto the ice, dodging other players to get to the goal, with the occasional bodycheck into the side. Ah, The Game was always a way to let some of his tention out.
The same Canadian croud that had earlier clapped politely was going wild. There was a whole section with red faces, in the basic shape of a maple leaf. There were loud yells of support when the Canadian team came on the ice, suddenly visible. Loud boos were heard when the American team skated on.
.oOo.
Skating over to his brother, Alfred shook his hand, the graceful looser. "Good game." He smiled, and tried to ignore the large bruise that was developing on his side from this same, now-peacful nation.
Matthew smiled, not even paying attention to how his fingers were turning blue from America's squeezing hand. "You too." He then skated off the rink, once again invisible. A small polar bear was sniffing a sweaty glove. "We won, Kumajiro!"
"Who?"
Canada pouted slightly. "Why do I even try?"
After he was showered and everything, he went outside for some fresh air. He was surprised to see Italy there.
Once the brunette saw him, he came running up to him and threw his arms around the blond nation. "Oh, I'm so sorry you lost! I'm sure you will do better the next game, ve!"
"Um... I'm Canada, I was the winner."
"Oh. Sorry, Canada. Do you want some pasta?"
.oOo.
The Olympics over, all the countries went back home. Alfred unpluged his phone after a week, tired with all the calls he was getting, congradulating him on being a very good host for the Olympics.