France keeps his arms crossed over his chest, a glare on his face. Britain stands a solid metre away, the same scowl on his face and his bushy eyebrows knit together in displeasure.
"Honestly, this is ridiculous. I settled here first, therefore, you're trespassing," France snorts, turning his nose up at his rival.
Britain's green eyes widen in astonishment. "Oh, just because you think you're so important with that bloody monopoly and furs. Even they can't save you from your debt, France."
"You're just jealous because I have a new colony here and you don't!" the older country taunts, his voice rising and falling in a sing-song way.
"Why you-"
In the nearby bushes, a little boy pokes his head out from between the branches. He observes the tussling countries, his violet eyes wide with both curiosity and fear. He's surprised by their appearance more than anything, simply because both men look a lot like him. The little nation has seen mainly Aboriginals around here, not so many people with pale skin like him.
He takes a tentative step backwards, trying to slip away without being seen, but he steps on a twig. There's a loud crunch that both the older countries nearby seem to hear. Their heads snap towards the little blond boy, their hands still locked in a shoving battle and their foreheads nearly touching. The boy, young Canada, squeaks in surprise as his eyes widen.
"Hey...is that..." Britain mumbles.
"Mine! Called it!" France shouts, shoving the Englishman away. "You got America, but I'll get this one!"
Canada lets out another surprised squeak and turns tail, dashing away through the bushes as he hears the two men giving chase. His eyes sting from the rush of air, making him squint as he goes faster and faster, his white clothing pushing against his tiny body. It's not that he's scared, he's more embarrassed that he was caught spying on them.
He collides with a solid mass, feeling the wind get knocked out of him as he crumples to the ground. An involuntary groan leaves his lips as something near him lets out a surprised gasp.
"Ma parole! Quelle est la grande idée?" a rather high-pitched voice exclaims.
Canada opens his eyes, staring up into the face of another young boy. The boy has sandy brown hair that's combed neatly, although it's rather long and brushes the back of his neck. His eyes almost match his hair, soft brown in colour and rather soothing. His clothing is similar to Canada's, instantly making the young country feel much better about his circumstances.
That, and he's got the strangest feeling that this boy isn't just a regular human.
"Uh...I don't...I don't know what you're saying," he stammers, getting to his feet and trying to distract himself with brushing off his clothing.
The new boy blinks a few times. "Je suis Québec. Toi?"
Canada looks up at him, wiping his eyes. "Québec?"
Before Québec can respond, the sound of rustling foliage reaches their ears. Both boys jump and let out shouts of surprise as France bursts from the trees, panting yet bright-eyed.
"You...you are fast!" he gasps, breathless laughter leaving him as he points at Canada. His eyes fall on the brunet boy, growing wider. "Québec? What are you doing here?"
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I Am Canada (A Hetalia Fanfic)
FanfictionMatthew Williams, otherwise known as Canada, is a country that most ignore, often without trying to. Just as he is ignored by most countries, his history is left out of most Hetalian tales. There's a rich history behind Canada, even before he became...
