Work Text:
Title: Nothing Alike
Author: Triste
Fandom: Hetalia
Pairing: Canada/England
Rating: PG
Status: Complete
Disclaimer: Not mine
~~
England’s first clue was the knock at the door. His second was the form of address. America never knocked. He had a terrible habit of always flinging doors open to loudly announce his appearance. He was also the least reserved person England knew. Americans by nature were rude and uncouth. America seemed to take great pride in this.
“England-san, I brought you those notes you were asking for the other day. I hope you find them useful.”
“Um, thank you.” England paused. “Canada, isn’t it?”
It was more of an educated guess than anything. There were very few people who added –san to his name. Japan was one of them, but he had more of a presence. The person standing before him bore an uncanny resemblance to America, but since he was considerably politer and more considerate, England could only assume his identity and hope for the best.
“Yes, it’s me,” Canada sighed. “Honestly, haven’t you learned how to tell my brother and I apart yet? You managed it somehow when we were children.” His disappointed expression switched to one of curiosity. “Did I interrupt something? I thought I heard you having a conversation.”
“I was, actually,” England said. “Malcolm and I were having an in depth discussion about making jam.”
“Malcolm?”
“An acquaintance of mine. He’s a fairy.”
For a moment there was silence. England fully expected Canada to mock or scoff or give him the pitying, disturbed looks so often bestowed upon him by America and France. Much to his surprise, Canada did nothing of the sort.
“I see,” he said. “In that case, I apologise for my rudeness. Please also give my regards to Malcolm-san.”
England could only stare. “You’re not going to laugh?”
“Why would I?” Canada sounded confused. “If you say he’s there, then he must be there. Just because he’s invisible to most people doesn’t mean he doesn’t exist. I’m sure he’s happy to have somebody acknowledge him.”
“Oh.” England shifted, uncomfortable. Of course Canada understood. He knew perfectly well what it was like to be invisible. It made England feel slightly ashamed of his inability to tell Canada and his brother apart since becoming independent adults. “Malcolm says thanks, by the way.”
Canada smiled brightly. “Please tell Malcolm-san he’s welcome.” Then he bowed. “I’m sorry for taking up your time. I’ll excuse myself now.”
He left as unobtrusively as he came, being careful to close the door behind himself with hardly any sound.
England looked down thoughtfully at the paperwork Canada had delivered. A small tug on his shirtsleeve caught his attention as a tiny voice whispered into his ear.
~~
Finding Canada the next day was not as easy as England had anticipated. He’d been forced to grudgingly get help from France who, as far as England knew, was the only one who could recognise Canada at a glance. England felt ridiculously self-conscious as he made his approach, clutching the cloth-wrapped Tupperware box he’d prepared earlier to his chest. There was no reason for him to make such a big fuss over present giving. He’d done it before without any major problems.
He tapped Canada on the shoulder, cleared his throat and thrust the box into his face. “I made this,” he said gruffly. “It’s jam roly poly.”
“How kind,” Canada replied. “I’ll be sure to pass it on to America when I see him.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. It was Malcolm’s idea. He helped me. It took all afternoon to make one that wasn’t burnt.”
Canada laughed good-naturedly. “Malcolm-san is also very kind. Don’t worry, I’ll let America know how much effort the two of you went to.”
“You’re not getting it,” England said, irritated. “It’s not for America, it’s for you.”
“All right, England-san,” Canada assured him. “I’ll make sure America eats it. I won’t let him throw it away. I know how insensitive he can be. It would be too cruel to let such a thoughtful gift go to waste, especially when it’s been made with so much love.”
“Don’t get the wrong impression! It’s only a gift. There’s no love in this at all! It’s filled with jam, nothing else! Feelings played no part in it! Stop implying otherwise!”
“Yes, yes, I understand.”
“No you don’t! I made it for you. It’s *yours*.”
“You’re so silly.” Canada sounded fond. “Why would anyone want to give me a gift?”
“Because...” England trailed off, helpless. “Because... just because! Do you really need a reason?”
But Canada was no longer listening. He was too busy waving America over. “It’s a present from England,” he explained. “He made you jam roly poly.”
“Eww.” America wrinkled his nose. “Chuck it. It’s bound to taste horrible. Haven’t you ever eaten his scones?”
“Bastard!” England snapped, his hands flying to America’s neck and shaking him violently. “How dare you insult my cooking?”
“But it’s bad!” America choked out cheerfully. “Even you know that.”
England released him before shuffling off into the nearest corner to gloom. “Of course,” he muttered. “Of course it’s bad. Everyone says so. Even Malcolm probably thinks that. He’s too nice to tell me otherwise.”
“Right then,” Canada said, giving America the box that England had given him. “I’ll leave this with you.”
“I don’t want it,” America retorted.
“It’s not yours!” England told him. “For the last time, it’s for Canada!”
America cocked his head in bemusement. “Dude, you never give him anything. Why would you suddenly start doing so now?”
“Forget it.” England snatched the box back with a scowl. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter anymore.” Then he stormed off.
“What’s up with him?” America wondered.
~~
Fortunately for England, his next attempt was something of an improvement.
“So,” he began. “I heard you like ice cream?”
“Oh yes,” Canada said. “America loves it very much.”
“But you like it too, right? America told me.”
Canada immediately took offence. “Just because my brother and I have the same face doesn’t mean our personalities are equally identical. We’re nothing alike, you know! He’s loud, overbearing and rude. I’m the nice one! And yet I’m always getting into trouble because everyone mistakes me for him. It’s terribly unfair.”
“I dare say it is,” England replied before Canada could launch into full on rant mode. “But do you like ice cream? Honestly, it’s a simple question. I can’t rephrase it any other way.”
His annoyance must have started to seep into his voice unwittingly, at least enough to make Canada give a meek nod. “Yes. I like ice cream.”
“Good.” England cleared his throat. “Would you care to make some with me?”
“But...” Canada tried. “Wouldn’t you rather do this with America? Why are you asking me and not him?”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” England said hurriedly. “It makes no difference to me. I only thought working with someone else would speed the process up. It’s not because I’m desperate for friendship or anything. I’m not as lonely as people make me out to be.”
“Of course. You have your fairy companions.”
“Excellent. I’m glad we’ve got that straight.”
The rest of the day turned out to be surprisingly enjoyable, not that England would ever have admitted it out loud. Late afternoon turned into early evening as they waited for the ice cream to set. To pass the time – and also to do something about the awkward silence that had set in – England suggested a game of chess.
“It’s a shame we never did things like this together when I was younger,” Canada said. “Not that I’m blaming you,” he added quickly. “America was the one who took up most of your attention, after all. I’m not resentful. Well, not very. Maybe a little. It would help if you started telling the two of us apart.”
“I’ll make more of an effort from now on,” England promised. “And I know you’re different from your brother. You don’t make fun of me, for a start. You also don’t devote most of your time driving me insane.”
“That’s because I’m the responsible one,” Canada insisted. “And I think you’re very lucky to have things like fey folk and unicorns. All I have is Kumajirou-san. I keep trying to find ways of standing out more, but none of them have succeeded. I’ve stamped a maple leaf on my forehead, written my name in my underwear, and yet nothing seems to work. I wish I looked more distinctive. I’m sure people would remember me better if I bore more of a resemblance to you rather than America. Maybe I should make my eyebrows thicker? That might work. It did the trick for Sealand-kun and he isn't even a proper country.”
“You’d better not,” England advised. “Then you’d get mistaken for me instead and France would molest you at every opportunity. Not that he isn’t busy molesting the rest of the world, but he seems to put more of his energy into it where I’m involved.”
“See? That’s exactly the problem! France-san has never tried to molest me before. He does it with everyone else, but not with me. Am I that repulsive? Surely I must be. France-san will hit on anything. Why should I be the only exception?”
“You can never tell what’s going through that pervert’s mind. All right, you can. It starts in ‘s’ and ends with ‘x’. Consider yourself lucky he’s never done anything to you. He once tried to force me into marrying him. That’s the kind of bastard he is.”
Canada seemed to be mulling this over before clapping his hands together all of a sudden as he reached a conclusion. “That’s it! That’s the solution!” He pointed dramatically at England. “Marry me! Make me visible!”
England couldn’t even find words to reply with.
“No really,” Canada continued, apparently on a roll. “America would be jealous. People would pay attention to me at long last!”
England coughed. “You do realise how ridiculous you’re sounding?”
“It’ll work. It’ll really work!” Then an expression not unlike the ones France tended to make whenever something evil or erotic was going through his mind flitted across Canada's face. “You’ll be able to make up for the neglect I suffered as a child if you grant me this one wish. You wouldn’t have to feel so guilty anymore. Isn’t that great? From this day on, England’s special relationship will now be with Canada!”
“I don’t know how to tell you this,” England said haltingly, “so I’ll be blunt. It’s impossible. All of it. I’m sorry.”
Canada wilted visibly, his earlier enthusiasm evaporating. “You’re right. I could never be a replacement for America. I don’t know why I bothered trying.”
England gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder. “Don’t be depressed. Come on. Let’s eat that ice cream.”
~~
One week later, Canada turned up on England’s doorstep with a crate full of maple syrup.
“Please accept this as a reconciliatory gift,” he said humbly. “As an apology for trying to force you into marriage.”
“It was a half-arsed attempt at best, but hey.” England peered down at the crate. “What on earth do you expect me to do with all of this?”
“We could make pancakes. Since our ice cream making went so well last time.”
“I usually eat mine with lemon juice...” England backtracked upon seeing Canada’s face fall. “But I suppose maple syrup isn’t so bad once in a while.”
Canada’s smile returned. “I thought we could make this a regular thing, you know? Cooking something together, I mean. Let’s make a fresh start. I promise to try my best to be more distinctive if you promise to stop mistaking me for America. I’ll help out as much as I can. I’m on a mission to make myself more visible. I have to try hard to be noticeable and that means not blaming or relying on others. Oh,” he added, taking off his backpack and lifting Kumajirou out of it, “Kumajirou-san would like to meet Malcolm-san, if that’s okay.”
“You know,” England told him slowly, “being the owner of a talking polar bear would make anyone unique. Not that I’m complimenting you. Don’t misunderstand. I would only truly be impressed if he could do something like magic or alchemy.”
“He can sing the national anthem backwards while spinning around on his head and drinking coca cola through a straw with his nose,” Canada offered. “He also has cute eyelashes.”
“You,” Kumajirou accused. “Who?”
“Sadly, his memory is very bad.” Canada looked awkward. “I hope it’s not any trouble. If you’d rather spend time with America instead... and I’m not him, by the way, in case you’re still confused. I even wore my name tagged underwear if you want to check. And a bracelet that has my name printed on it. And a belt buckle in the shape of my name. And –”
“Yes, yes, I get the idea,” England interrupted. “You’re Canada. I know.”
“Who?” Kumajirou piped up.
“Honestly, Kumajirou-san, haven’t you been listening to a word I’ve said? It’s Canada.”
England heaved a weary sigh. Any more of this and his mind would start slipping away.
End.