My name is Canada, though I honestly don't expect you to remember that by the end of this. I know, it's hard. Three syllables, four letters not counting the repetition of some of the letters. It really is difficult. So I don't harbor any blame for those who don't recall my mere existence, eh. Oui, I am used to this treatment. I'm always ignored and forgotten. None of the other countries acknowledge me unless it's convenient for them. But even when they do notice me, they don't know who I am. Even the ones closest to me have my being wiped from their minds. For example, my own brother America hardly recognizes me, and my Papa France has trouble placing my face in his mind as well. It's all very hurtful, but I don't complain. Who would hear me if I did anyway, eh?

Who am I again…? Oh! That's right. I'm Canada, eh. Oui, Matthew Williams. I almost forgot, silly me! Second largest country in the world and it all amounts to nothing. My assistance in various wars is passed over, counted as British efforts. Eh, the only time you hear about Canada is when violent hockey riots break out in Vancouver. Otherwise I'm nothing but an apparition.

I glance out the window of the conference room, noting the transparent appearance my body is taking on. I get goose bumps just looking at the ghostly image of myself. It frightens me and sends me almost into hysterics. I don't want to disappear, eh. Anything but that.

Wait…who am I? Come on…I know this. I know who I am…don't I? I should know. Gah! I'm Canada! Why am I forgetting? I've never forgotten who I was before, eh. This has never happened…what's going on?

I cast my gaze around the room of Nations, watching them all argue as normal, paying no mind to my existence. I smile sadly at the sight and lean against the back wall, continuing my life as a shadow to the other countries. They carry on, fighting over who's got the best economic systems, who has the best films, and even whose food is the best (which I'm sure Britain will lost in a heartbeat).

"Who…?" a tired, grumpy voice asks from my arms, drawing my attention to it. I give Kumachika my full attention and flash him a smile.

"Um…," I blink at my own confusion and furrow my eyebrows in thought, racking my brain for the common answer to this question. I struggle, but eventually I am able to find it. "Canada, eh!"

"Oh," my faithful companion responds, blinking his small eyes at me. "You ok?"

"O-oui, I'm fine, eh. Don't worry about me, Kumagichi," I nod and tap him gently on the nose. His response is to sneeze.

"Faded…,"

"Hm? Oh, oui, I know…,"

Kumakuro's normally blank expression flashes with an ounce of worry. "Worse than normal…"

My smile fades and I immediately turn to look at myself in the glass of the window again, seeing that he's right. Blinking, I take off my glasses and rub my eyes, glancing at all of the other Nations for a moment. I see them clearly. There's no blur in their forms, but as I turn back to my reflection I see the same is not for me. What am I? Nothing. I'm not there. In my eyes there's nothing in the window. I can't see myself, and for some reason I can't see my polar bear either. Possibly because he's a part of me, my other half. What is going on? Why do I suddenly feel as though I've lost something…?

…Who am I again? God…I…I just can't seem to remember.