"So this portal takes you to a different universe? Sweet!" America shouts.

"Don't get too close to it. I only think it does. I could have cast the wrong spell." Britain warns America who is about to stick his finger though it.

France, America, Britain, and I watch the portal spin for a moment. When you try to look through it, it is black, but when you look at it from an angle, the edges are about as wide as a sheet of paper and purple. I stand holding Kumajirou and watch silently.

The whole situation started when America was looking through Britain's spell book and stumbled across creating a portal to an alternate universe. Just to amuse him, Britain chanted the spell and surprisingly, it worked.

Now we're all standing around at four a.m. in Britain's house staring at it, and the question is floating in the air.

"Who's going to go through it?" America asks a bit nervously. No one answers, but you can feel the tension build up.

"Not it!" America suddenly shouts.

"Not it," Britain.

"Not it~!" France.

"Not it." I reply too late.

"Alright Canada, it's all you!" America concludes and starts pushing me towards it.

"I really don't want to," I try to say about the time Britain says, "Alfred! I don't even know if I chanted it right. It could be a portal through time for all we know. Canada can't go through it."

"Now, wait a second. I could go through it if I wanted to," I try to argue back, but France talks over me. "Why don't you go through it, America?"

America starts laughing to cover up his nervousness. "I would, but I have a conference tomorrow that I have to go to. Besides, how would you get back if you did go through it?"

Britain thinks about it for a moment while I start feeling annoyed that just as quickly as I was mentioned I was forgotten.

"I suppose that you would find the me in the alternate universe, and he would make the same spell," Britain watches the portal for a second. "I'm curious now about what's on the other side. Maybe we can call Germany and get him to go through it."

"I'll go through it! I'm brave enough!" I try to shout as loud as I can. It ends up being a normal speaking voice. The three nations turn to look at me, and I regret saying it immediately.

"Are you sure? I don't know how stable it is." Britain looks uncertain at me.

"Of course he can!" France chimes. "My little Matthieu can do anything better than your Alfred!"

Britain and France get in a short fight for a moment, and I wonder just how much my father cares about my safety over showing off to Arthur. Now that I have said it out loud I really don't want to go through it. I hope for a moment that Alfred will say something to stop me, but he just pats me on my back and offers to help shove me in.

France and Britain finally stop fighting. "You can go in anytime now." He turns and gives France a challenging look. "As long as you still want to do it," He adds.

"Of course he still wants to, you fool!" France fusses at him. He turns back to me and smiles. "I can't wait to hear how fabulous I am in the other world!"

I stand looking at the portal. "Shouldn't I have a rope to pull me back through?"

Britain shakes his head. "Once you go through, the portal disappears. You need to find someone who can cast magic and have them read this spell." He hands me a sheet of paper with a bunch of gibberish on it. "Good luck."

"Kumajirou, you should stay here." I set the bear down and try to gather any energy, courage, or curiousity that might be lurking somewhere inside of me and get absolutely nothing. "Okay, here I go."

I glance behind me once last time to see if anyone is willing to stop me. Britain still looks uncertain. France is grinning and looks like he's about to rub it in Britain's face when I jump through. America is watching slightly concerned but mostly excited. I turn back to the hole, count to three, and take a deep breath before jumping through.

It feels like I'm spinning in circles at one hundred miles an hour for a few seconds then I'm thrown into a pile of snow.

I lie stunned for a few moments then sit up to look around me. I'm in some woods filled with pine trees, and a few feet in front of me is a house that sort of looks like mine. The lights are on inside, and there is smoke coming from the chimney. It looks just like my home. Arthur must have gotten the spell right after all.

I stand up and brush some snow off before running to the house. I feel some nervousness at knocking on the door, but remind myself that if it's a version of me he'll let me in.

I knock on the door for a moment. I can hear some movement in the house. The door cracks open a bit, and a shotgun barrel pokes out.

"Who are you?" a gruff voice asks, and I can feel my happiness die quickly.

"Uhhh," I try to think of something to say and stare at the small glimpse of a man with tan hair like mine staring at me through black sunglasses. He continues to stare at me before asking, "Did Alfred send you over here to prank me?"

"Ummm," I'm able to get out before the man opens the door and leans against the doorframe.

"Alright, get it over with already." He pulls the gun off of me and looks bored.

I stand for a moment trying to think of something to say that doesn't make me sound insane.

"Well, what's the joke?" the man frowns at me and looks annoyed.

Before I lose my voice again I say, "Hi, I'm Matthew William. I'm from an alternate universe. It's a long story. My friends made a portal and I was voted to go into it so here I am. Um, I was wondering if you could tell me where the other Matthew Williams' lives? I know he has to be around here somewhere. Thank you." I take a shakey breath and hope that the man doesn't shoot me.

The man stares at me silently for a moment before saying, "I'm impressed. Usually Alfred just sends someone to tell me a lame knock-knock joke, but no, this was a lot more detailed. Give him my regards when you see him." He grins and starts going back inside.

"It's not a joke!" I shout. The man frowns at me again.

"Ha ha, it was very funny. You can go hope now, kid. I'm impressed you hiked all the way out here. I hope Alfred paid you well at least." He says and starts closes the door.

"Wait! Can you at least tell me where Matthew Williams lives? Or Alfred F. Jones? Or Arthur Kirkland? Even Francis Bonnefeuville will be helpful! I need to get to Britain to open the portal! It's not a joke! Just please help me!" I shout desperately at the door. It's silent for a moment then the man bursts open the door and rushes me with the gun pointed at me. I stumble backwards and fall into the snow, and he's stands over me with the shotgun trained at my head.

"HOW DO YOU KNOW THOSE NAMES! TELL ME OR I'LL SHOOT YOUR HEAD OFF!" he screams.

I try not to pee in my pants.

"I'm telling you! I'm from a different dimmention than this! Arthur made a portal and Alfred wanted to explore it but Arthur said it was too dangerous. Then France got into this whole thing about my kid is better than yours and I had to go through or he would be disappointed." I try to control my breathing so I don't pass out, but I'm failing horribly.

There's a silent pause and he considers this. "So," the man says slowly, "you're Matthew Williams from an alternate dimension?"

I start feeling a little more hopeful that I won't have to die in this man's lawn. "Yes."

He slowly pulls the shotgun off of me and looks at me for a moment. Now that he's out of the house I can see that he has his hair pulled back into a ponytail, and he's wearing a bright red Mounties uniform jacket.

"Huh," he says softly to himself. "You sort of have the hair. Still got the curl. I don't recognize the clothes or voice though." He continues to study me, and I don't try to move in case he takes it as a threat and points the gun at me again. He knows the Canada of this universe at least, but he's so violent!

Suddenly he realizes that I'm still lying on the ground. "Sorry about that." He offers his hand and pulls me up. I stand and wipe the snow off of my back. "I'll get you coffee inside," he says and starts walking inside. I stand unsure for a moment until he turns around and gestures for me to follow him.

He could be a serial killer, I think to myself when I follow him inside. The kitchen looks the same as the one in my house. Even the same coffee maker. Maybe not, he might just be defensive.

"Do you want eggs and sausages or something? I kind of feel back about almost shooting myself," he offers. I shift awkwardly on my feet. Why did he say 'shoot myself'? He was aiming the gun at me!

"You don't have to cook for me," I reply, but he's already busy going through the fridge and probably can't hear me.

"Pancakes would be nice if you have them." If he's insisting on cooking for me, I guess I might as well let him.

"Pancakes?" He turns and frowns at me. "You want pancakes instead of sausage and eggs?"

I feel more awkward with him staring at me. "I like pancakes with maple syrup."

"Oh. Alright." He turns back to the fridge still frowning to himself. "I think I have an old box of pancake mix somewhere. I just assumed you like sausage and eggs. I guess we're more different than just looks alone."

I stand for a moment trying to process this until the whole thing hits me. You sort of have the hair. Still got the curl. I kind of feel back about almost shooting myself! I guess we're more different than just looks alone.

I stare at him in a state of shock while he searches through the top drawer of his cabinet mummering things to himself. "You're the me in this world?"

He turns around and studies my reaction for a second before becoming angry and yelling, "Well, don't look so fucking horrified! I didn't know who you were! I'm trying to make it up to you by making you some damn pancakes!" He turns around and starts looking again. "Where's the pancake mix!?"

I decide not to question it and take a seat at the kitchen table to think through everything. Okay, so the me of this world is aggressive and gun-touting, but he means well now that I'm not a threat.

"Good, I found it," he says to himself and jumps off the counter. He pauses for a moment and causiously sniffs the box and wipe the dust off the cover of it then realizes that I'm watching him. "It should be okay," he assures me then starts gathering mixing bowls and a frying pan.

He does sort of look like me, I think as I watch him read the directions on the box making comments to himself about the ingredients, if I grew long hair and wore sunglasses. And shot at people. I suddenly remember the reason this Matthew didn't shoot me immediately.

"So Alfred pranks you?" I ask him and try to image what this world's Alfred would be like. If this is me in this world I'd hate to run into someone like Switzerland or Germany.

"Yeah," he replies almost to himself again. Suddenly he looks up and stares at me really hard. "How are you doing that?!" he shouts.

"Doing what?" I glance down and realize that I've started disappearing. "You mean disappearing?"

"Yeah, it's creepy! Stop it!" he shouts a bit scared of me. I start coming into focus, to my relief, and I can see the other Matthew starting to relax some.

"How'd you do that? It's like I forgot you were there, and then the next moment I could barely see you." He stares at me with almost amazement.

"Uh, it just happens sometime when people forget I there," I answer lamely. "It's more tedious than anything."

He's calmed down enough to go back to mixing the pancake mix but glances up every minute to make sure I'm still there. "I bet it's useful in combat though," he points out.

"Not really. I try to stay out of fights as much as I can," I answer honestly.

He frowns at me. "Why? Don't you think the middle of a fight is exhilarating?"

I give him an uncomfortable look. "I believe in peace-keeping. You and I see battles differently."

He gives me an unsure look. It's silent for a moment as we consider each other's beliefs, and the tension in the room seems intensify to me. Finally he says, "You still are going to have to teach me how to do that disappearing thing. That could be useful."

I decide not to tell him that I'm the only one who can do it for now and watch him attempt to cook a pancake. The first one he makes is undercooked which he denies but tries to make another one "to be nice".

The second one is burned black on both sides with the middle being undercooked.(How he managed that is beyond me.)

"Maybe I should try to cook," I offer.

He glares at me with murderous intent. "You think you could do better?"

I struggle for words, and he exits the room. I sit trying to think of a way to calm him before I remember the stovetop is on. I decide to focus on cooking breakfast for myself instead.

I grease the pan with butter and carefully pour in the pancake syrup. I watch the bubbles form in the batter and carefully turn it when the other side is firm but not burnt. I patiently wait for the other side to cook until it is lightly brown. I poke a fork into the center to make sure it is fully cooked which it is. I smile to myself and make one more before I turn around, and I almost run into Matthew standing behind me.

"AH!" I try to cluntch the plate in my shock, and lucky I don't drop it. Matt continues to study the pancakes before studying me, lost in thought.

"How'd you do that? I can't even cook boiled eggs without under or overcooking them," he asks.

"Uh, France taught me," I reply and try to manuever to the table before he does something to make me drop the plate.

"France?! He cooks worse than me! How'd he teach you?" he glares at me like I'm lying to him.

"Maybe your France can't cook," I reply back quietly, "but mine could probably make a chef salad out of weeds and make it taste like the best thing you've ever eaten."

I realize that that could come off as insulting, but Matt considers this for a while. I get up to check the fridge for maple syrup but don't find any. What I do find is a lot of boxed meals in the freezer including a microwavable sausage and eggs. I return to the table and pull out my personal maple syrup bottle that I carry with me and pour it on. I start cutting into the pancakes. Despite being made with a just-add-water mix, they're not half-bad.

"So, from the sound of it you have a good relationship with your France. What's he like?" Matt asks with an expressionless face.

I think for a moment of how to describe him. "He's a bit of a womanizer, but he means well. He's into fashion to the point of calling everyone's military uniforms tacky. Britain and he get into arguements sometimes, but they're allies. Um, physically he has shoulder-length blonde hair and blue eyes. He usually wears a bright blue cloak and red pants to the Allied Forces meetings."

What if he's not in the Allied forces?, I suddenly wonder. What if he's in the Axis Powers?

I stop for a moment before asking a bit uncertain,"Is World War II going on right now?"

He nods his head and waits for me to continue talking. "And you're in the Allied Forces, right?" I ask unsure of what I'd do if he isn't.

Something changes in his face, but I can't tell what. He pushes his sunglasses down. "Which do you think I'm in, honestly?" he asks slowly while studying my reaction.

I shift nervously in my seat. "Well, I don't know you that well. You could be in either. I guess America is in the Allies, but I can't tell whether you consider Alfred a friend or not," I answer nervously and hope that I didn't offend him.

His eyebrows furrow at me confused, and he leans back again to drop the aggressive position he had. "I'm in the Allied Forces," he says defensive. "Alfred's my friend. He just can be annoying and needy sometimes, but he's my friend." He frowns a bit hurt at me. "Do you really think I'd be in the Axis? Have you heard some of the things that Hitler guy has been saying? If he does half of the things he promises to do..." He shakes his head, and his ponytail swishes back and forwards.

"Sorry," I apologize. "I didn't mean to be rude or offend you."

He waves it off. "Don't worry about it. I can come across as intimidating when I want to. Alfred says it's because my coat looks like it could be stained in blood, but I think that's because he watches too many horror movies." He thinks for a moment, and I imagine his coat stained in blood which is fairly easy to do. "What's your Alfred like?" he asks curious.

I smile and wince at the same time. "He's a bit arrogant, ignorant of the world, and very excitable. We look similar, so usually when he gets someone angry they mistake me for him. He eats too many hamburgers and junk food. He has light brown hair and glasses and likes to wear an pilot's jacket everywhere he goes. Despite all of that, he's usually nice to me and doesn't forget about me completely like the other nations do."

"The other nations forget you? What do you mean, like forget you're there?" he asked a bit sketical.

"You know how I can disappear when a person forgets I'm there? That happens a lot."

He watches me eat for a moment lost in thought. "So," he says, changing the subject, "how are planning on getting back to your universe? You mentioned Arthur, but I don't think he'll be able to help you."

I remember the sheet of paper Arthur gave me and check my pockets to make sure it's still there, which it is. I trust Matt so I put it out and set it down on the table. "He told me to find the him of this world and have him read this to create another portal."

He reads the paper before tossing it back down onto the table and shaking his head. "That thing is complete shit." He gives me a pitying look. "I think they kicked you out."

"No, it can't be!" I grab the paper and read it and indeed, it looks like a bunch of bull crap. harrihudinniotterpotter cheeriosluckycharmskelogstoast flubbernut

I stare at it and try to find out if this is an actual spell or if Arthur is just screwing with me. Some of his spells can be outrageous sounding, but they work. I look up at Matt who is still giving me a pitying look. "It looks like you got screwed," he concludes. "If you want to, you can stay with me until you can get a house."

"No!" I say definantly and shock myself. "I trust Arthur. The Arthur I know would never hurt anyone on purpose, and he doesn't joke around like this. The spell works. I just need someone who can read it."

Matt stares a bit taken back at my confidence in him, and I focus on finishing the pancakes self-consciously.

"Alright, we'll talk to Alfred when he gets here." He checks his clock. "He should be here in about an hour. So what else did your Britain say about the spell? Do we have to sacrifice a goat or something to make it work?"

I stare at him, and I'm suddenly not very hungery anymore. "Um, no. Just someone who can use magic says it, and a portal should appear."

"Huh." We sit quietly for a moment until I get up to clean the plate. He watches me clean it and scrub the dishes.

"So," I say when the silence start feeling awkward again, "what is your Alfred like?"

He snorts at my term of 'your Alfred' and pulls out a cigarette to smoke. I ignore the urge to tell him that smoking is bad for your health and move back to the table to wait for him.

"Well, I've known Alfred for a long time. He ignored me and I him until the War of 1816 when he tried to conquer me, and I had to beat him back with a stick." He blows some smoke out of his mouth and watches it rise to the ceiling while I hold the mental image of Alfred being beaten with a stick by Matt. It makes me smile for a moment until I can focus again.

"After that he understood that I can defend myself and insisted on visiting my house daily because he gets lonely easily." He sighs. "He hasn't stopped since. Physically, he has dark brown hair and weird green eyes. He's easily depressed and too sensitive. He used to smoke of marijuana and opium. Luckily, I convinced him not to use LSD or cocaine so his mind isn't too damaged. Despite his many flaws, he's probably my only friend."

He doesn't say anything else and starts looking out of the window, so I consider the conversation over. In a few minutes he checks his watch and says,"Alfred should be here in a few minutes."

He looks back out the window, and I start feeling nervous again. If everyone is as violent as him then I don't want to meet this America when he is carrying guns.

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