A/N: I know, I know, I should be off updating my other stories. But this is what I ended up writing when I sat down today. A random idea inspired by a random quote: White is the color that forgot itself, much like myself. I don't think that this is my best work but maybe you all will think otherwise!
For every nation, there is a single color. One that represents everything about that particular nations country, all bundled up into one shade, one tone. Russia is a deep purple, much like the hue of the sky right before midnight. Japan is represented by the warmest shade of orange that one could think of.
Sometimes, depending on how the country is doing and how it's government is run, the color will change. In the beginning, back before the wars, Russia was a light yellow. Japan, when he still lived with China, was a shade of burnt umber.
Because the color speaks so much about what is going on in that country, once every five years, there is a meeting to discuss what color the nations associate themselves with. If there's a drastic change, even when the news has yet to cover the situation causing it, then it lets the other nations know that something is up.
Usually something bad.
These colors are identified by slips of paper. Special paper. Pure white paper that, when touched by a nation, changed its color.
This year, Japan was hosting the meeting. All of the nations, micro-nations and former nations included, had already arrived at the hotel it was being held at. A massive twenty story building, on which the top floor had been cleared out so they wouldn't be bothered.
And everything seemed to be going good. Or as good as it could, what with all the natural disasters that had hit in the last few years and everyones economy going down hill so rapidly.
America's blue, for freedom and the ocean that he crossed when he left England, had dulled some. The money issues that his country was having, just on the verge of being a national crisis, had taken a toll on it. The earthquakes in D.C., followed almost immideatly by Hurricane Irene, hadn't helped. But he was still vibrant and bright and not going to fall, no matter what those nasty European nations said.
The earthquake, and the tsunami and the explosions and the nuclear radiation that was still being taken care of, had drowned out the warmth of Japan's orange. A pale yellow, like the sun when it was just starting to rise, had taken its place. But it would brighten again, and everyone knew that, so no one was worried.
It wasn't until Canada, pushed to the front of the room by Kumajirou, pulled out his slip of paper that the laughter and banter being traded came to a stop.
Because Canada's paper hadn't changed colors.
"Mattie?" America was the first to speak, face scrunched up in confusion and slight worry in his tone.
Canada didn't answer. The piece of paper, still just as white as before his fingers touched it, was pocketed and he made his way back to his seat. In silent. Face downturned and light colored bangs hanging in front of his soft violet eyes, mouth a perfect line.
When he sat down, still silent, Kumajirou jumped into his lap. The small, white bear put a paw against the nations chest and peered up at him. "Who?"
"I'm Canada." No response from the bear but the Northern Nation didn't seem to be interested in going into more detail. Honestly, at that exact moment, he didn't think he'd be able. His name was right there, on the tip of his tounge, and he knew what it was. It was Mathew. Mathew Williams.
It just didn't seem to fit him anymore.
"Who?" Kumajirou asked again, more irate sounding then the first time he spoke. He didn't like it when Canada didn't tell him exactly who he was. It meant that the issues his master suffered were getting worse, that he was going downhill.
It took a few seconds, and America trying to catch his near-twin's attention, before Canada uttered out a quiet, "Mathew."
"Kanada." Germany pursed his lips together, sharp blue eyes locking onto the True North, as he leaned foreward in his seat. He folded his hands on the table in front of him, a futile attempt to dissuade Italy from hanging off of them. "What is wrong with your paper?"
"Yeah, dude. Isn't your country supposed to be, like purple?" America could've sworn that last time they did this Canada's slip had turned purple. He remembered because he'd thought it was weird that his baby bro, as Canada would forever be reffered to when the American thought about him, had almost the same exact color as Russia.
Kumajirou sent what could only be described as a dissaproving look towards the American nation. "Idiot."
"Don't be mean, Kumachika." Canada muttered. He ran a pale hand across his pets white fur, ignoring the glare that was sent to him by said polar bear, before shifitng to look at his American twin. "Yes, Al. It used to be purple."
"What's with the color change then?" America asked. If something had happened in Canada recently, he should have heard about it! Their two countries were so close with each other, so friendly, anything that could have brought about such a huge change in his brother's slip of paper should have been all over the American news!
The fact that it hadn't changed colors at all didn't even register with him.
"I think," England said. "that it's the lack of change we should be concerned with. I don't think I've ever seen this paper not change its color! Mathew, lad, what's the matter?"
Canada gave a small shrug. At the moment, nothing was the matter. Nothing that hadn't been happening for the last few centuries, at least. "I'm fine, Arthur."
"Right." Gilbert snorted. "Of course you're fine. So fuckin' believable. Your paper wouldn't be white like that if you were 'fine', Birdie."
The other nations were too busy staring at Prussia, surprised that he'd given any sort of imput into the conversation, to notice how Canada shifted just slightly in his seat. To notice when the Northern nation's eyes shined, for just a moment, with something that hadn't been there since he was just a colony. To see the approving nod that Kumajirou gave Prussia, who was still staring at Canada with impassive red eyes.
"Bruder? What are you talking about now?" Germany questioned, voice only slightly annoyed. The heavy silence that seemed to have settled over the room snapped then, and several of the nations gave the albino annoyed looks.
"Geez, West. Don't you remember anything?" Prussia rolled his eyes at his brother before returning to staring at Canada. The younger nation squirmed under the gaze but said nothing, violet eyes falling down to look at the floor. "Right before you all decided I wasn't 'fit to be a nation' anymore, my paper turned white. Then I died."
"It did?" China peered across the table at Prussia. "I think...I think I remember that, aru. You don't have a color anymore either."
"Nope." The Prussian leaned back in his seat, turning an accusing gaze to England. "So why don't you tell me why his papers white, Artie? Gonna give his land to someone else too?"
"Wh-what?" England sputtered, cheeks flaring red in embarressment. "Of course not! Don't say things that obviously aren't true, you git!"
"Then what's with the blank paper, huh?" Prussia demanded of the European nation. He didn't actually think England would even think of doing that to Canada but, attacking someone clearly innocent, had always been the easiest way to get Canada's attention.
And it worked. Only a few more traded insults later, Canada muttered something under his breath.
"What was that, Birdie?" Prussia asked, completely forgetting the nasty name he had been about to hurl at England.
"I said it's not England's fault." Canada repeated. He was loud enough to be heard this time but his voice was still soft. Still quiet.
In his lap, Kumajirou snorted. "Liar."
"Kumataki!" Canada scolded. Why was his bear doing this right now? Kumajirou knew why Canada had never brought it up to anyone! They'd spoken about it just the day before, to make sure his bear knew that nothing was going to be said about! "Hush!"
"Come out with it, Birdie. How long's your paper been like that?" Prussia's had changed to white three months before the decision was made. Three months before his status as a nation was destroyed and his land was given to his brother. And something told him that Canada's had been that way longer than just a few months.
Canada didn't speak for a few moments. He pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, biting down on it hard enough that he could taste blood. It was only when Kumajirou nudged his hand that he spoke. "It turned white three years after World War Two. I think...I'm sorry. I don't really remember exactly."
If anything had ever been uttered at one of the meetings that brought so many of the nations hearts to a stop before, no one could remember it. At that moment, no one even cared to remember it. They might not remember the Northern nation very often, or noticed him when he spoke, but that didn't mean they didn't care for him.
In fact, many of the other nations held Canada very close to their hearts.
To think that something had been so horribly wrong with the young nation for so long and they hadn't noticed it...What sort of things had they ignored? What sort of problems had their little Canada been facing that meant his very expierence was being threatened?
"What the hell do you mean since World war Two?" Prussia barked out, eyes widening. How the hell had Canada stayed a nation if his paper was white for so long? The thought was only in his head for a moment before his eyes were drawn, almost of their own accord, to the white bear perched in Canada's lap.
And Kumajirou stared right back at him, button like eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Bout time you all noticed."
"It's not their fault, Kumachacha." Canada muttered. It was clear his heart wasn't in it though.
Again, Kumajirou tilted his head up to stare at his master. "Liar. Tell truth. Now."
"Yes, Mon Lapin, please tell us what is wrong?" France' reached across the table, nearly elbowing England in the head when he did, and grasped onto the hand Canada wasn't petting Kumajirou with.
And no nation could deny that the startled look on Canada's face when they nodded in agreement, throwing out their own questions about his problems, made their stomaches twist.
It wasn't until Prussia said "please", something that few nations knew was even in his vocabulary, that Canada seemed to snap back down to reality. But he didn't know what to say. That never being acknowledged was putting a stop to his existance? That, because he was almost never allowed to speak about his countries well-being at the meetings, he had started to fade? That, more often then not, even he found himself wondering if he had the right to stay a nation anymore?
But all that seemed like it would place blame on the other nations so, like he did so very often, he kept it to himself. Instead, he gave a small shrug and told a half truth. "I think it's just that white's the color that forgot itself. Like me."
Confused looks a plenty were given to him and Canada suddenly realized how stupid that sounded to anyone that didn't usually listen to his half-baked theories and seldom heard thoughts. Which meant just about everyone at the table.
Pale face turning red with embarresment, Canada ducked his head and tugged Kumajirou closer to his stomache. "S-sorry..." The words came out mumbled, almost unhearable, as he pressed his mouth to his polar bears fur.
"What are you saying 'sorry' for, Birdie?" Prussia asked, rolling his eyes. "If anything it's all of us that should be apologizing to you. Isn't that right?" The last words were sharper then the rest of his sentence, just daring anyone to say other wise.
No one did. In fact, most of the nations nodded their agreement. What Canada said didn't make sense to them but...The blond nation wouldn't need to say anything right now if they had paid attention to him sooner.
"C'mon, Mattie. Tell us what we can do to help!" Alfred stuck his lower lip out, giving his brother the best pleading look he could form.
"Tell the truth." Kumajirou prompted again, tilting his head up so he could look at Canada.
The nation looked like he'd rather be anywhere but there. Canada had always wanted to be noticed, needed and craved to be noticed, but not like this. Not when everything that he said would put such blame on the others; upset them maybe or make them angry, neither of which he wanted.
No. Right then, Canada just wanted to go back to his little house in Yukon and curl up on the couch for a while. He just wanted to go back to being unnoticed and let the others figure it out on their own; something that would never happen and he knew would never happen.
But the other nations kept asking him to explain what he meant and Prussia was still giving him that look. And Canada couldn't just ignore them, could he? No...No, he couldn't. So he bit down on his bottom lip again, teeth digging into the soft flesh, and risked a half-glance up.
Everyone was looking at him.
Everyone was listening to him.
It was weird.
"W-well...I..." Canada gave a small shrug, tightening his grip on his pet. "I'm...I'm sorry, I don't know how to explain."
Prussia frowned when the spectacled nation lowered his eyes to the table. "Just say what's wrong. Simple as that."
But I don't want any of you to get upset, is what Canada wanted to say. Instead, he just let himself sink further into the seat and in a voice quieter than normal explained to the best that he could. "I'm just not very noticable, I guess. I mean, I know that I don't have as many problems as you all do and that's why you all don't let me speak but...I guess that sort of makes it like I'm not a real nation."
There was so much more to it than that though. There was the fact that he was never spoken to during the meetings, never seen or heard. That he was often forgotten when the invitations went out for events and gallas that the nations were to attend. That, the less he was acknolwedged by the rest of the world, the less he was acknowledged by his government, by his people, and by his land.
That he knew, from conversations with General Winter and the natives of his land and just from watching history, that soon not even Kumajirou would be able to keep him tethered to the earthly realm.
Canada didn't think that he'd be able to say all of that though. It was hard enough to tell them what he'd already said. Not because he didn't mean or that he didn't want to say it, because he did.
He was just worried that saying it all out loud...Oh, he didn't even know what the problem was anymore. Canada had just gone so long dealing with his problems on his own that he didn't know how to let the other nations in. And, already, he could feel the anger towards himself well up because for once everyone was paying attention to him and he wasn't saying anything!
And the anger that Canada felt towards himself was mirrored in the other nations. They didn't understand everything going on in their northern friends mind but they saw enough flashing through his violet eyes. They were ignorant after all, not stupid.
"Mattie..." America started, only to be cut off by the Prussia slamming his fist into the table.
"Damnit, Birdie, you should have spoke up sooner then! The awesome me would have no trouble making sure all these losers don't forget about you!" Prussia shouted. Some of the other nations frowned at him, Ludwig rolled his eyes, but it wasn't them the Prussian's red eyes were focused on.
It was Canada.
And the small flicker of hope on the other's face was more than enough to quell the annoyance he felt towards the others; they might forget later on about what happened here today but Prussia knew that there was no way he would ever be able to.