Party Conversations

The ballroom was teeming with people, Canada noticed. He tried not to focus on that—this was about Ukraine. He just had to keep his anxiety under control for a few hours.

He'd arrived with America—and Belarus, who, since staying with America, had taken to tailing him everywhere.

America had told Canada he found it tiring.

Most of the countries in this room had yet to even recognize Ukraine's new independence, Canada noted dryly. Though he supposed that wasn't their fault; politics tended to move slowly.

Belarus made a beeline for her sister; clearly, any new attachment to America did not outstrip that to her siblings.

America spotted Lithuania in a corner and his face lit up. He rushed over, leaving Canada standing awkwardly by himself; Canada tried not to fault him too much. America had been really worried about Lithuania for decades now.

Canada headed over to the table and got some punch; nearby, England was drunkenly yelling at France about something.

He sighed. It looked like it was another night of being ignored.

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"Canada?"

Canada turned to see Ukraine, who was holding a glass of horilka.

"Hello, Ukraine," he said, a little surprised. Other than America stopping by with Lithuania to chat, he'd been alone for the entire night.

"I wanted to thank you for recognizing me," she said. "You were the second to do so, after Poland."

Canada felt himself blushing slightly.

"It's no problem," he said. "I hope we can get to be friends in the future!"

Ukraine beamed.

"I'd love that," she said. "Ever since I left Vanya's house in August, I've been trying to make friends in the west, but—it's been hard."

Canada nodded, feeling euphoric. She'd remembered him, she wanted to be friends—

"So, where's Belarus?" Canada said after an awkward pause. "I thought she was with you."

"She was," Ukraine said. "Now she's over there."

She pointed to where Belarus was talking quite amicably to Estonia, her face slightly flushed from alcohol.

"I came here with my brother," Canada said. "Now he's with Lithuania."

He nodded to where America was going on about something to Lithuania, complete with excited hand gestures. Lithuania appeared to be listening intently.

Ukraine let out a soft giggle.

"Hey, Canada?" she said after a moment.

"Matthew. You can call me Matthew, I mean," Canada said.

"Matthew," Ukraine said. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Canada said.

"Why are you back here? You know all these people, surely you have friends," Ukraine said. "You're friends with Netherlands, right?"

Netherlands was currently speaking to his siblings; it'd be rude to interrupt. And Cuba wasn't even here.

"He's busy," Canada said. "Besides, I wouldn't want to bore him or anything..."

"You wouldn't," Ukraine said. "You're not boring to talk to, Matthew."

"Really?" Canada said. "Most people don't even notice I'm there."

Ukraine frowned.

"Really? That's weird. I don't have a problem noticing you," she said. "Good thing, too, because it's pretty great to talk to you!"

"Really?" Canada said. There weren't very many people he knew enjoyed his company; just America, Netherlands, and Cuba (when Cuba wasn't mistaking him for America, anyways). "You, too. I really like talking to you, too."

He internally cringed at how dorky he sounded.

Ukraine's face lit up, though, and some of Canada's nerves calmed a little.

"Oh, thank you! And uh—there's something else," Ukraine said.

"What is it?" Canada asked.

"Thank you for taking my people in," she said. "When I lived with Vanya."

Canada blinked.

"You're welcome, Ukraine, but I certainly wasn't going to turn them away." he said.

"Iryna."

"Huh?"

"You can call me Iryna," Ukraine said.

"Okay," Canada said. "You're welcome, Iryna."

As Ukraine launched into another topic, Canada focused on her every word.

It looked like this was going to be a fun night, after all.

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Canada recognized Ukraine on December 2, 1991.  It was the second country to do so.

Ukrainians did indeed go to Canada during the Cold War, mainly political refugees and displaced persons.