Great Canadian Identity Crisis

The Great Canadian Identity Crisis
Chapter 1

"I'm sick of this shit!" Matthew slammed his fist on the large round table, yelling out his frustration. No one seemed to notice. And that was exactly the problem. For years, centuries, Canada had gone unnoticed, unheard and unseen. Sure, he had gotten used to it and treasured the moments when a few countries did recognize him. France had been his only friend for a long time, having raised him and putting a lot of cultural influence into him before he was handed off to the British ass hole who spent all his time denying his love obsession with America. Oh yes, Matthew knew Arthur had it bad for Alfred. That idiot brother of his was as clueless as ever, the British influence and terrible food rotting any intelligent part of his brain away to nothing, (not to mention his severe lack of taste buds too). With all the time Arthur focused on America, Canada was left alone, left to foster himself and form his own country in plain view of the former British Empire. He never noticed, not once. Matthew had even absorbed most of the English influence into his country instead of adopting his own like Alfred did. He used the metric system, kept excellent English pubs, hell he even still worshiped the Queen and kept her face on all his money, and even now, in the 21st century, things were no different. Canada had become the second largest country in the world, and if Russia kept on shrinking, soon he would be first. His lands were vast, beautiful and fruitful. He did well in the economy even when everyone else was failing around him.  Even thought the weather was harsh in both extremes, and the population was small, Matthew still prospered. He was a peace keeping country but never failed to jump into the war, even before Alfred would come rushing in to be a 'hero'. He helped others. He never wronged anyone. He did his very best to keep peace and spread happiness and free health care across his land. Yet, no one said anything. No one remembered his influence in the war, his efforts even greater than his southern neighbour. No one ever said 'Thank you Canada for insulin, the telephone, basketball and zippers.' No one saw him as a threat. In fact, rarely any one saw him at all these days.

That would have to change.

The world meeting was in full force, Ludwig doing his best to present his side of the current debate while Alfred continued to interrupt with protests of boredom and hunger, which only earn a rebuttal from Arthur telling him to shut up or some insult about his weight. Nothing ever seemed to get done. Matthew was sick of it, sick of sitting down for hours just to watch an immature shouting match between the world's super powers. All the while, there were actually some countries with real input, real solutions to today's greatest problems. When the yelling and throwing of burnt scones finished for a while, someone would speak, many agreed and Alfred would make sure his opinion was known, to which Arthur would soon began the rotation from sanity to madness again.

Matthew had an opinion too, but whenever he tried to speak during these moments of silence, someone would always steal away the spotlight. He had thought that maybe it was because of his quiet voice and that the others just didn't hear him start up so they themselves would take his place. His remedy of bringing a microphone to the last meeting was a failure. It wasn't because no one heard him, it was because they couldn't, or maybe they just didn't ever acknowledge his presence in the first place, and he was just an empty chair to them, (which explains why he had been sat on so many times buy a certain soviet country).

As the shouting match actually seemed to turn into a potential fist fight, Matthew's already closed fist tightened and trembled with rage. Kumajiro, who was sleeping peacefully in his lap, was abruptly woken up when Canada stood and screamed.

"WILL YOU TWO JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP AND SIT DOWN ALREADY!!" With that he picked his chair up and flung it across the room. It smashed into the wall, breaking into a few pieces. This rash action finally caught everyone's attention. They all stared at Matthew, and he normally would have blushed and hid himself from shame, but his fierce anger kept him standing tall. Alfred was the first to speak.

"AHHHH OH MY GAWD OH MY GAWD!!! DID YOU ALL SEE THAT?! IT'S A POLTERGEIST! A GHOST! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!!!" Alfred was terrified, and all his hyped up fear spread to some of the other nations too, gripping both Italy's, Japan, Finland and the Baltic's. Latvia, trembling as usual, seemed more scared of Alfred's remarks then of Ivan. America had long fled the room as did the others. The rest slowly filed out, the common thought that 'there was no way the meeting would continue now' floating around in light chatter.

Matthew just stood still, face blank, eyes watering slightly. Kumajiro, unhappy with being woken up then thrown to the floor, was knawing on his ankle, but Matthew didn't care. In his most violent outburst and coincidentally only ever public outburst, not one single person had taken notice of the northern nation.

Well, that wasn't true.

In the aftermath of Alfred's little scene, one country sat calming in his chair. Francis.

"You are unsettled, no?"

"Very." At Least Francis had always been there.

"Come, mon cheri, lets calm you down and get you somewhere quiet."

"No thank you." Even in this serious situation, Matthew fine manners did not let up. "Come on Kumajiro. We're leaving." The bear unhitched his jaw from his mastered leg, looked up questioningly as he was picked up, asking that same question he had spoken so many times before.

"Who?" Canada glared back, nothing but anger behind his stare.

"You know damn well who I am." He spoke quietly but the message came across as threatening. Francis didn't move. He knew how to deal with Matthew when he got like this. The best thing to do was to leave him alone to cool off on his own. He would bounce back sooner or later, and then maybe Francis could take him out to dinner, give him the reassuring talk like he always did whenever Matthew got upset. However he got the feeling dinner might not be enough his time.

Matthew left the meeting room, slowly making his way out of the conference centre, spotting the various nations all taking a break in the lobby. Alfred was huddled in a corner and sure enough Arthur was there trying to coo him back to his normal flamboyant and arrogant self. Ludwig appeared to be doing the same with Feliciano, and Antonio with Romano.  To them it seemed that a chair had picked itself up and flew across the room, breaking upon contact with the wall. Only one person had seen it was being picked up and thrown by a very pissed off nation.

Matthew knew that staying for the rest of the meeting was pointless. He exited the building, flagging down a taxi to bring him to the airport. He hadn't any bags with him since the meeting was only in New York. He could get from there to his home easily in a couple of hours on a commercial flight. Strangely enough, getting a taxi had always been easier then speaking at a meeting, something the Canadian never understood. Once inside, the driver revved the engine and the small yellow vehicle was on its way to the airport.

His ability to hail taxi's more easily than any other task also applied at airports. Getting tickets and being allowed a polar bear in first class on just about any flight was a simple task. There were even some occasions where the female staff had flirted with him. It was times like this Matthew was glad to be noticed, glad that no one forgot to bring him coffee and glad that a pretty girl had taken the time to wink at him.

Once home in his downtown Ottawa apartment across from the parliament buildings, he changed out of his suit, took a shower and threw on a robe. He just wanted to sleep. There had never been a time he had gotten so angry before. The only exception might have been the three hour rant that reduced his brother to tears, but even then, this anger had been for a whole different reason.

Matthew did not get truly angry often. He didn't like the general feeling of the emotion and tried to avoid it at all costs. But when it came down to it, he knew what had to happen if he didn't want his outbursts to continue. If he wanted to be noticed, be heard, be seen, be praised, be known, he would have to do something he had never done before.

He, Matthew Williams, Canada, would have to go to war.