Masquerade

Prologue

 America was more than happy to let Canada have his moment. The slightly older Canadian was grinning from ear to ear as he was crushed in-between a sobbing France and a tearful England who was mumbling apologies under his breath. He barely managed to get away from his former guardians before he was given a hard slap on the back by a grinning Cuba, a pat on the shoulder from Prussia, and an encouraging rare smile from the Netherlands. As the rest of the world gave Canada his long-overdue moment in the spotlight, America couldn't help but feel further away from the rest of the world than ever.

 It wasn't as if he was longing for constant attention. He was more than happy to be out of the spotlight for a few minutes to catch some long needed respite before he had to put the stupid happy go lucky hero mask back on. Ever since he's gotten here, the young personification has put himself at the brunt of the other nations' frustrated verbal and sometimes even physical attacks, all to keep the peace so everyone could get through the memories faster. Being an unwanted mediator was no walk in the park and the fact that most of the world hated his forced interventions made the job even harder.

 Hearing jabs from countries who disliked him and comments about how Canada deserved better made his blood boil. As if they knew what happened to cause that invisibility. Instead of turning around and thrashing the personifications as he wanted, America kept his stupid hero grin on and mentally counted to three to calm himself down, just like his western brother taught him. Speaking of West... America closed his eyes and tried to mentally contact his older brother over their empathy link, only to feel nothing. America slightly scowled before replacing it quickly with his hero grin before anyone could notice.

"At this rate, I'm going to go insane due to all of the comments, lack of breaks, and loss of support from my older brother. Man Eric is going to be pissed after spending decades getting me back on my feet," America thought to himself pessimistically as he made his way over to Canada. The rest of the world noticed his approach and parted away like the red sea. Canada, noticing his younger brother's approach, began to walk toward him to meet him halfway. Cuba looked like he wanted to go after Canada, however, a grip on his arm and a warning look from Prussia halted him in his tracks.

"Thanks, Gil," America mentally thought before stopping in front of Matthew. The world went silent as many countries unconsciously held their breath as the atmosphere grew tense. Because his memories were next, America decided to lose his mask... just for a moment. His goofy and almost playful expression grew neutral. He stood tall as his cheerful blue eyes grew cold. Canada gulped and took a step back as he quickly diverted his gaze to the floor, lest he provoke the current world superpower. The world held its breath as they waited for the American to make his move.

"Canada... Look at me." Canada couldn't help but freeze. Not Matt or Mattie but Canada? It was rare for his brother to sound so serious and he was afraid of what he would see if he looked up. However, his curiosity got the better of him and after a moment of hesitation he looked up. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw his brother's eyes. His sky blue eyes, while cold, held remorse, guilt, and the biggest of all, regret. America bowed his head and let out a bitter chuckle.

"I could never understand how the majority of the world could mistake you so easily for me." Canada's head shot up in surprise. America rubbed his neck as he nervously kept eye-contact with his slightly older brother. "I mean come on. You have the lighter blonder wavier hair that reminds me of France while I have the shorter blonder hair, not to mention that you have a curl like the Italies while I have an ahoge," America started as he pointed as his stubborn piece of hair before stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"I have eyes as blue as the sky while yours are darker with an almost purplish tint. I am always sporting my bomber jacket while you always carry your pet polar bear around." Hearing the word bear, Kumajirou lifted his head but seeing and smelling no food, he went back to lounging on Canada's chair. "Most importantly, and I'm not saying this like it's a bad thing, but you shy away from confrontation while I usually meet it halfway," America continued as most of the nations made faces, realizing their short-sightedness in mistaking Canada for America.