Recap: "Whatever, I'm only doing this-a because you insisted, not because I wanted to." Grumbled Romano, flipping to the proper page.
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"'Canada is a jerk towards America, he's just too invisible for anyone to notice.'" Romano looked up at Canada, eyebrow slightly raised. "That's true, you can be a jerk."
"Eh, it's true." Canada said, shrugging slightly.
America looked at Canada in confusion. "You're a jerk to me? Since when?"
"Oh I don't know, maybe when you give stupid ideas? Which would be always." Canada said, rolling his eyes.
Romano snickered, the few times he came to the world meetings he sat there hearing America's idea on how to stop global warming and agreed with Canada; America didn't have very good ideas.
"Hey! I have good ideas!" America complained, lifting his arms eagle-spread style.
Canada snickered. "Sure, America, sure. Keep telling yourself that, maybe someday it'll be true."
A few of the countries snickered while a few went 'Ohhh!' And Prussia took it a step further by saying,
"He told jou! Do jou need ice for zhat burn?"
America blushed slightly. "Yeah well, uh, um, uh, Your mom!" He yelled, pointing at Canada.
"Uh, America, you do realize we have the same mother, right?" Canada asked, sweatdropping slightly.
"Wah?! No way!" America gaped, anime falling.
The countries sweatdrop. How did he not know Canada and he share the same mother? He really is dense.
"Well, before we get too far off topic, who shall read next?" England, hiding a laugh with a cough.
"I will, da? There is only one page left." Russia said, standing up to get the book from Romano, who practically threw it at him before Russia got too close. Belarus might not have been there, but who knew if she wasn't about to pop up around the corner? With Belarus, anything could happen if 'Big Brother Russia' was involved.
"'Dear Diary, I come here to Vimy Memorial every April, if I can. To remember. You know... The Battle of Vimy Ridge was such a turning point for me, but I don't actually remember much of it. I just recall working my way up that ridge, constantly telling myself to stick to the plan. And I remember running into Ludwig near the end, in the last line of German defenses. He could have killed me; I could have killed him. But - and I still don't know why I did this - I let him go. And the last look that he gave me as he retreated was one of respect. I'll never forget that look. Canada.'"
"That was very noble of you, Canada." England said softly, wondering if he could have done that had it been him in that position.
Russia nodded, if it had been him, Russia didn't think he'd have given his enemy mercy.
Romano folded his arms. Canada was really nice, but Romano knew that during a war, Canada didn't always show mercy. So what Canada did was noble, but still, he wished he hadn't shown mercy to that Potato Bastard. Anyone else would have been fine. Then again, his idiota fratello would have been heartbroken, and he couldn't stand that even if he said otherwise.
France looked on proud, his son was a great country, and no one could change that. Even if Canada's hair wasn't nearly as amazing as his own.
America patted his brother on the back, and for once he thought of Canada as a hero.
China smiled, at least someone was civilized.
Japan sat quietly, even though he didn't look it, he was very proud. How many people would show mercy to their enemies instead of simply killing them? Not many would choose this for fear of them appearing cowardly.
Germany remembered that day, he remembered the fear he felt when he recognized the face of the country known as Canada and realized that he could shoot at the country and kill Canada; or vice versa if he didn't pull the trigger quick enough. When Germany saw that Canada had--for some reason unbeknownst to him--decided to allow him to retreat with the remainder of his troops he felt relief and gratitude. Countries could be killed, but after a while the country would be reborn unless if their country were to be dissolved. There was no coming back from Death when your country is dissolved. But even more prominent than the relief was respect, Canada had had every reason to shoot him, and yet he didn't. Canada hadn't shot, knowing that he could have killed Germany. And for that, Germany had a type of undying respect for the country. Even if he forgot Canada most of the time.
Italy was awed. How many countries had taken the lives of their enemies? Italy himself had--at one point in time during the mafia years--been forced to take the lives of many people, most of which were not innocent in the least, but still, the guilt had gnawed through the pit of his stomach; which lead to him vowing to never again touch a gun again unless absolutely necessary.
Spain himself didn't have any thoughts on the matter except, why? Why not just shoot Germany? Spain himself had taken the lives of people, innocent and guilty alike and he had almost never shied away from the deed. Almost, but even he was not proud of his actions. As happy as Spain looked, he didn't always feel that way. Especially during the Conquista and pirate eras. Because of Romano and his friends, Spain was feeling like his old self, the one from nearly one thousand years ago; the happy one.
Prussia smiled, Canada had spared his little bruder. Prussia didn't want to feel the loss of a family member again, not after Holy Roman Empire and Germania. Prussia wouldn't have been able to handle that, twice had been two too many. For having left him with a bruder still, Prussia liked Canada even more.
Canada looked down, lost in thought. He remembered that day well, the sounds had been deafening, the smell had been overpowering--the smell of fear, sweat, and blood--and they had haunted his dreams. Canada had needed closure, of which he could only get by honouring the soldiers' deaths. This had been his way of dealing with the lives he had taken, of which he had done either directly by killing them himself or by leading his own people to their deaths in war.
Canada touched his eyes, feeling the tears leaving trail marks down his face. Hearing the entry he had written so long ago had brought memories to the surface; memories he had not been prepared to remember.
Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder and without looking he knew it was his brother. Canada gripped America's hand tightly, glad for the reassurance. Then he felt small, thin arms wrap themselves around his waist and realized it was Italy, and Canada hugged back. England and France both patted his head soflty, like how they had done when Canada had been a small chibi and had been scared or worried.
Japan and China stood by him, smiling reassuringly to which Canada smiled back.
Prussia came up to the group with Germany, both smiling understandingly. They all knew how hard it was to take someone's life and the grief and guilt that ate them from the inside out.
Russia walked up and held out his hand, Canada grabbed it gratefully and stood. Sometimes even Russia had admiration towards someone.
Romano and Spain walked up as well, and Spain clapped Canada on the shoulders while Romano gave him a thumbs up, then he too clapped Canada on his shoulder.
They all understood the pain of going to war, of becoming a murderer just to protect their country, of going to the extremes just to protect their people and their beliefs. And they knew that they needed to support each other through tough times, especially family. They might not be related by blood, but through difficulties and happiness they had forged a bond that ran thicker than blood.
And in all, that was the best kind of bond they could have and hope for.
Without noticing, a soft, warm glow surrounded the group, lifting them up from the room and flashing out of the room.
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A/N Remember, anything in <> is Native American because I am a lazy tomato and won't do the proper research for this book.
By the time they broke apart they were in the original meeting room, but there was something off about the countries in the room.
All of the countries--other than the G8 plus Spain, Romano, and Prussia--were completely frozen, unmoving.
"Wow! What-a happened to-a everyone?" Italy cried, running and poking the countries--who were frozen in everyday positions. Well, most of them anyway. Switzerland was stuck polishing his AK-47 while Lichtenstein sat primly. Cuba was frozen looking for someone(most likely America) while Austria waited patiently with Hungary sitting next to him as if talking. The Nordics were sitting together, Norway choking Denmark with Denmark's tie while Sweden looked intensely at Finland who sat next to Sweden looking very uncomfortable. Iceland was looking the other way as if saying 'I don't know them'. A few other countries were in other positions, such as leaning over the table or frozen half-yell.
"I believe I can answer that." A voice said, a voice four countries knew extremely well.
England stiffened, he knew that voice. The owner of the voice was someone he had not gotten along well with. That had been nearly two hundred years ago, and even now he probably wouldn't get along with her.
America had missed that voice, the voice of his mother. The voice that had taught him her language, taught him the ways of her people, taught him of fairness and justice. America turned around as quickly as his brother, eager to see the face of his mother.
Canada too had missed the sweet sound and low timbre of Native America's voice, her soothing tone had always put him at ease during troubled times. And now, nearly two hundred years after she had been dissolved, he would hear her voice again.
"<N-Native America?>" Asked America and Canada as they turned and saw that, indeed, Native America still lived.
The rest of the countries, England and France not included, were shocked at the language the countries were speaking. But it also frustrated them that it wasn't a language any of them knew, even England and France were resigned to not knowing what was being said.
France was shocked, how could she still be alive? Her country had been dissolved so long ago it couldn't be possible... And yet, there she was, healthy as ever and still as beautiful.
"How?" Was the only sound that managed to come out, it was a strangled whisper that had only just managed to escape his lips.
Native America looked at him, eyes as warm as the sun, yet still as solemn as the darkest night.
"I was granted this chance to return to the Land of the Living by God." She said simply, walking up to the two young countries and hugging them tightly. "<Oh my sons, it had been a long time.>"
"<Yes, but how long will you stay?>" Questioned Canada, wiping his eyes. His mom was here, alive and well. It was amazing!
Native America smiles sadly.
"<I wish I could stay forever, He-Who-Is-Friends-With-Everyone.>"
"<Then stay!>" America interrupted, he didn't see why she couldn't stay. He didn't want to see her leave again.
"<I truly wish I could, but I cannot. I am only allowed a small amount of time here in your world. Though I wish it wasn't so, The-Courageous-One, I wish it wasn't so. But God has only allowed me to visit today, and only because I have a slight mission to do.>"
They swallowed tightly, nodding with tears in their eyes. As much as they didn't want to, they knew that Native America was a dissolved country and had only been allowed to come for now by a divine force.
The other countries had no idea what was being said, only that it was something very emotional and meant only for the small family's ears.
Native America turned to the other countries.
"I see you have read through the book and have learned about Tokota." Native America said, in perfect English.
"Tokota? Who is Tokota-aru?" China asked, not knowing who 'Tokota' was.
"Ah, that would be me." Canada said, stepping up.
"Excuse me, but are you not carred Canada?" Japan asked, most countries didn't have different names. Of course, some did end up changing them through the years.
Canada nodded. "I am Canada, but when Native America was still a country I was known as Tokota or 'He-Who-Is-Friends-With-Everyone' and America was known as Napayshni or 'The-Courageous-One'." He explained, smiling at the memories the very names had brought up. America too smiled at the pleasant memories that came to the surface.
"Ah." Japan said, understanding.
"But anyvay," started Prussia. "Vhy are zhe other countries still frozen? Ve're here already."
"Because we are not done." Native America said sternly. "I just wished to see my sons before I leave." She said simply.
She turned to America and Canada. "I wish I could stay, but even though I can't I can say that I am very proud of you, both of you."
Tears formed, they smiled wobbly smiles, their mother was proud of them. Even through all the terrible things they had done, Native America was proud of them.
The countries stood back, smiling at the family departure. Some of the more emotional countries cried as well(France, Italy, and Spain) while the others just held it in. Native America hugged her sons one last time before a halo of light surrounded her figure and she disappeared, leaving behind the scent of pine and woodspruce.
"I-I'm going to miss her." Canada admitted, running his eyes.
"Yeah, but I don't think we could have done anything anyway." Said America, stifling a sob.
England didn't like seeing America like this, fragile and emotionally drained. For the first time since the American Revolution, England saw how much Native America's death had taken its toll on him. He pulled America into a hug, while France wrapped his arms around Canada. France liewise didn't enjoy seeing Canada sad, with tears streaming down his face. The small family hugged, England and France putting aside their grudge to provide the comfort America and Canada needed.
The other countries closed in and hugged as well, they knew how it felt to lose a loved one, in one way or another they had lost someone dear to them at one point in time. But when in these times, the countries were at their most human times of compassion and sadness. At this time they were human.
Later they broke apart, smiling wobbly smiles of reassurance, and began readying themselves for when the frozen countries would unfreeze. It didn't take very long until all of the countries were doing whatever it was they had been doing as if they had never been frozen. That day America received a headbutt courtesy of Cuba(Canada hid until Cuba left), England and France fought per the norm, Switzerland continued polishing his AK-47 wiht Lichtenstein sitting patiently for him to be done, the Baltic States cowered under Russia's gaze(with Poland telling Russia to leave Lithuania alone) and Austria spoke with Hungary while Prussia bothered them.
With Canada, it was different, once he arrived in the base Aero and the rest immediately unfroze, beginning their conversation where they had left off.
"I wouldn't crash because I'm an excellent pilot!" Insisted Aero, while Skipio and Toris saw that Canada had something behind his back.
"What've ye got there?" Asked Toris, attempting to see behind Canada.
"Oh nothing much." Shrugged Canada, bringing his arms around. "Just some pancakes."
"Ah yeah! Gimme!" Aero said, reaching for the pancakes. Skipio hit him on the head with her book.
"Don't be rude," She scolded. "Be more polite."
"Ow~ Sorry, sorry." Aero grumbled, rubbing his head.
Canada laughed and split the pancakes, giving each five in total. Aero attacked his with a ferocity that matched a wolve's. A tugging on his pants reminded Canada of his bear, Kuma, who--upon looking down--was fixing Canada with a baleful glare.
"Don't worry, Mr. Kumajirou, I didn't forget about you." Canada giggled as he produced another plate stacked wiht pancakes for his bear(Silly Canada, the bear owns you).
"Thank you, sir!" Aero said as he inhaled his pancakes.
"No problem." Said Canada, smiling.
Skipio looked at him. "Aren't you going to want some, Commander Williams?"
Canada shook his head. "No, these are for you."
Skipio nodded slowly before eating hers. Canada smiled, his team would move on and be the best of the best, he was sure.
Ironically, they did rise to the top ranks, but this took them many years to complete and when they did, Canada had never felt prouder of his team. Of course, their story is not mine to tell, that is theirs.
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Don_Spain: First of, this part isn't in italics because part of this chapter disappeared and so I had to rewrite it. Wah. ;-;
Jess: That did suck, you had a mini-meltdown.
Marth: Mini? I didn't think that 'OHMYGODS THIS IS SO UNFAIR, ZEUS WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME?!!? WHY GODSDANGIT?!!? NUUUUUU!!! PROQUE A MI?!!?!?!?' Was considered mini.
Don_Spain: It was so unfair though! And I don't remember what I had written here in the author's note thing, except that it had to do with sugar, MCR, Greenday, and anime, alot of anime. So, I guess vote..?
Jess: Comment! Unless it's just a bunch of hate, then keep it to yourself.
Marth: And please like! Thanks!