Chapter One: Canada (January 1st, 2000)
He wakes up. It's cold, and when he breaths out, he can watch the air leave his mouth in a cloud.
It's so cold, but somehow he realizes he doesn't mind.
Standing up on unsteady feet, he looks around with wide eyes. For a moment, he can't tell where he is at all. There are waterfalls above him, forest around him, but also vast snowy tundras, a jungle of concrete, oceans crashing on either side. He feels so big, so huge and powerful and-
The loneliness is crippling when it hits. His vision goes dark, completely black, as he finds himself gasping for breath. He is huge and alone and he can't remember how this came to be.
He doesn't know how long he flounders in this empty darkness, reaching out for something that isn't there. Time doesn't seem to be relevant here, and so when a shiver of brightest purple cuts through his vision, he can't be sure it has just appeared, or if it only took him forever to notice it. Now he stares, transfixed, as it expands, twisting into a ribbon of greens and blues and reds. All bright, and he can't help but smile, because it is hard to remember one is alone when surrounded by colours, come to life.
This time, he can tell it is a long time before he comes to the realization that his eyes are closed. As he slowly opens them, blinking away the last of the aurora's lights, he is met with a familiar sight. A small polar bear is pawing at his foot. He is standing in his bedroom, at his capital house, and it is January 1st, 2000. The night before is a little fuzzy, though he must have made it home alright, after spending the milestone new years celebrating with his people, seeing as he is standing in his room now. He didn't, however, seem to quite make it into his sleeping clothing last night, or even into bed. The bed is untouched and he is still in the red sweater he was wearing the day before. He really can't remember any details about last night at all, not after shouting happy new years with hundreds of others, in-
Well, it must have been in his capital. That's where he is now, after all. He must have not gone up to Toronto after all.
What had he drank that knocked him back on his ass so hard last night? It doesn't feel like he has much of a hangover. Just a slightly uncomfortable pressure behind his eyes. He stretches slowly, heading downstairs and deciding to let the strange lack of memories last night slide for his now. He's not pain, physical or national, so nothing terrible had happened. And his boss gave him the day off, so he may as well spend it with Kuma, and in the fresh snow that fell last night. He can even indulge in a huge stack of pancakes to start off the day, if he wants to.
And he does just this, making them for both him and a bored looking Kuma. There is an odd nagging sensation, as though he should be sharing these with someone else, but there is no one else, of course. His brain's still a little muggy, after all. So he eats his breakfast in silence, thoughts drifting, ignoring that hint of loneliness still haunting him from his odd dreams of the night before. He is Canada, home of almost thirty four million people. How can he ever feel lonely?
That morning, the phone doesn't ring. Why would it? His boss has no reason to call him, not on this day off, and there is no one else who would be calling. He doesn't even think anyone else knows his number. Canada is a unique being, after all. Almost like a spirit, of this country, the True North. Strong and free. So of course, the phone not ringing does not strike him as odd in the least.
The phone will not ring, looking for a friend, for a very long time. And when it does, Canada will have no memory of the voice on the other line.
"Birdie? Where has everyone gone? What's going on?"