This story is told from Japan's perspective as he writes down the minutes for the meeting, and later on in Canada's pov.
Every nation has a weakness, a little flaw to them that if they were human would have been their genetic defect. The Ancients figured that it was whoever had created them's way of saying they were just like their human citizens, and that they weren't perfect.
It went without saying that even in "families" the secret of what exactly each person's weakness was wasn't brought up. Even if it was an empire that had many colonies, no one ever asked what the weaknesses were. Everyone was told that they shouldn't let anyone else ever know about their weakness either, or else it would kill them. All the young colonies believed this, when they were young they always believed everything their colonizer said though. It was just one of the things they didn't question as they got older.
In some cases this was almost fatal in the end, Canada was one such case, and the only one that any of the other nations could remember.
But, that's getting ahead in the story. As this is the official record book for the world meetings I should begin from the beginning of the story, and not give a hint of the end. I should probably scratch out the start of this entry before Germany checks it for mistakes later, he can be very perfectionist. Shoot, I'm treating this like my journal at home.
Japan leaned back from the table frowning at the page in front of him.
"I guess I should take this home with me to recycle properly and start off on a fresh piece of paper. Why the janitors don't put a recycling bin in the meeting rooms remains a mystery to me."
Mathew, otherwise known as the country of Canada, had found that he was always cold lately, and nothing he did ever changed that. Even then lying under his covers and reading a book to wake up while wearing several layers of clothes did nothing to change the fact that he was still shivering.
He truly didn't want to get up; but the clock read 7:28, and the meeting started at 9:00. He groaned a bit, and mumbled about how much he didn't want to; but he still got up, and it wasn't like there was anyone there that was listening and would care.
He knew that going to this meeting would just make him feel colder.
He'd known early on that his weakness was that his body temperature is regulated by the gestures and words of those people around him. Nice words or a hug equaled a nice warm body temperature, and having glares directed towards him and an angry tone or argument left him shivering like winter had arrived early and suddenly to all of his provinces and territories.
He did his best to be agreeable and not anger anyone; but there's only so much you can do when you have the States for a brother/doppelganger.
Looking in the mirror he could see that his lips were starting to turn blue, and his shivering had increased just from the good morning "who?" he'd gotten from his pet polar bear. The best he could hope for today was to make it through to the next without hypothermia.
The meeting had started as he suspected, everyone ignored him. When it first started he'd thought they were joking around, then he realized after the first century of this treatment had passed that this was no joke. They honestly couldn't even see him. It's like only seeing what you want to see. They only ever saw him when they wanted to see his brother, they never wanted to see him, and that made him feel colder on the insides in a totally different way.
He'd tried once to voice his opinion; but England had glared at him and told him to shut up, and that no one wanted to listen to his stupid ideas...America.
He'd felt his internal temperature drop even more.
That's when the meeting had started to get weird, with the room tilting around him in a weird way, was it supposed to do that?, he couldn't tell for sure; but, he could have sworn he saw Russia looking at him, finally, quizzically.
"His skin is waxy, and his pupils are dilated. He is shivering. England, I suggest you stop him from trying to remove his sweater. He has hypothermia." Russia said in his pleasant tone of voice, the one he used to appear childish. Mathew knew what it really meant, Russia didn't know what to do. He knew Russia just felt nervous. He didn't know why though.
Mathew tried to speak, but even in his unaware state could tell that something was wrong with his words.
"His speech is slurred." Russia noted.
He didn't quite understand what was going on, all he could concentrate on was the cold. He didn't think it had ever gotten to be this bad before. Then he felt a burst of warmth, and sighed, it was bliss.
Russia sounded panicked now. "England, put my coat over him now!"
Mathew could still hear them, a bit, but his vision had gone black. He couldn't see, and the sounds of the other nations was being replaced with a ringing tone. Until suddenly it wasn't. There was no ringing tone, or the other nations, or the pins and needles he'd felt all over his body. There was nothing.