Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

What Lies Behind the Mirror

He looked around the table, towards the others. No one sees him, as usual. So why does he come to these meetings? Why does he listen to all these petty arguments? Why does he even bother?

Canada sighed as, once again, his bear asked him who he was.

One of these days, he might snap.

But not anytime soon, for he is slightly afraid of what might happen.

It started ever since he went to England's house once. England had forgotten he was there, and, becoming nervous, he went to look for him. He had gotten lost, and stumbled upon the library. A library that was heavily locked, but the Canadian somehow managed to enter. He was highly suspicious about it, and realised that he must have stumbled upon England's 'spell books'.

The first few he found were in a language he could not decipher. The few he found in English were more silly than anything else. But then, the more he read, the more an idea started to bloom.

He was thinking about being invisible all the time, and how much he hated it. He started to search for ways to make the other nations notice him, until he found that spell.

A friend that knows the other side of you.

A friend. Perhaps that is what he truly wanted. A friend that knows the side of him that others never saw, since they never even saw him.

That might have been his first mistake.

…

When the meeting was over, they all returned to their hotel rooms. Canada's first course of action was to go straight to the bathroom. Towards the mirror.

He started spending more time in front of mirrors, and he'd rather not have anyone know about it. Not even France, the narcissist, spent half as much time as he did in front of mirrors. He never stared at a mirror in public. There was too much of a chance that his secret would be discovered. And if that happened, would they undo what he had done?

He sighed as he opened his eyes, staring at the face behind the glass. A face that was his own, but at the same time, not. While his violet eyes inched towards blue, the other's eyes inched towards red. While his hair was more of a brown-blond, the other's was a golden blond, and was also longer. The ponytail was evidence of that. The other him was also paler, which contrasted with the black suit he wore instead of the brown that he wore. Instead of the glasses, he wore a pair of black sunglasses atop his head.

And he might as well be his best friend.

Whenever he looked in a mirror, he would always see the other him. Whether the other him was looking in a mirror or not. Whenever he wasn't, Canada could see snippets of the other's life.

And what he saw would sometimes terrify him.

There were many times when the other him was drenched with blood. Never his own. He used his hockey stick on other people, and that terrified Canada. Thankfully, the other him didn't extend his cruelty to animals. Canada wouldn't have been able to handle it. Instead, what he saw towards the animals was nothing except kindness. He even had a black bear with him.

The other times, he was at a meeting, or simply spending time with the other countries. He was noticed, something that Canada severely wished for. He had seen the other America, France, England… He was glad he didn't have to spend any time with them. He even found himself shuddering whenever he saw the other Italy. Yep, the other them were scary.

Sometimes, Canada would wonder if the other him was able to see him. If he could see glimpses into the other's life, does it work the other way as well?

But, when both of them were in front of a mirror at the same time, Canada discovered something shocking. They could speak to each other. They could speak to each other as though they were standing right in front of each other, without a veil of glass in front of them.

"Hey, Matthew," the other him greeted, grinning. "What's up?"

Matthew smiled, a softer, more gentle smile.

"Hey Matt," Canada greeted. "The usual."

While his voice was a quiet whisper, the other's was a lot louder. But it almost seemed as though the other tried to tone it down. He probably didn't want the other nations of his world to discover his secret either.

Matt sighed.

"You should really learn to be more assertive," Matt said.

"I wish," Canada sighed. "But, unfortunately, I'm not you."

"I beg to differ. You are, in fact, me, just like I am you. You're just the me that's behind the mirror."

Matthew smiled. While it may be true, he wasn't like the other him. From what he could tell, everyone in that world was the opposite of what they were in his world. And he was glad that he didn't have to interact with them.

"You know, Matthew," Matt said, snapping him out of his thoughts. "I actually enjoy chatting with you. It's nice to speak with someone that isn't a psychopath."

"And it's nice to actually speak to someone that listens and talks back."

Matt sighed.

"Sometimes, I worry about you."

Yes, he enjoyed spending time with the other him. And that might be his second mistake.

…

Poland was looking into a small hand mirror that he had. It was almost time for another world meeting to start, and he was making sure that he looked decent enough. Yes, he enjoyed looking at himself in the mirror, almost as much as France did. And, lucky him, the Frenchman was sitting next to him, in an effort to keep France, England and America away from each other. That was, after all, how things normally went. One of those three would start an argument with one, or both, of the others.

He saw something in the mirror that made him pause. It was someone wearing a black suit. No one ever wore a black suit, not to a world meeting. And that was not the scariest part. He saw the eyes, tinged with red, and the psychotic gleam. He quickly whipped around, looking for the mysterious face. But he didn't see him. He just saw the gentle face of Canada, a nation he barely paid attention to on a regular day. He looked in the mirror again, holding it so that he could see the Canadian's reflection, and it temporarily showed the other face again, before showing Canada.

He nudged France and told him to adjust his own mirror, wondering if it was his imagination or the mirror was somehow defective. France frowned in thought before doing what the Pol asked.

And nearly dropped the mirror.

It wasn't his imagination. France saw it too. They kept a wary eye on Canada, watching him sit down next to America. They had never paid so much attention to the North American nation as they did then.

Poland briefly glanced back to his own reflection before his eyes widened.

Black hair and blue eyes were staring at him. The other one blinked his eyes before a smirk crossed his face. A smirk that sent chills down Poland's spine.

For once, he found himself overcome with an irresistible urge to go visit Romania. He needed to ask him something that anyone else would find laughable.

He needed to know exactly what lies behind the mirror.

If you guys want, I can continue this in a separate story, but this will remain a oneshot. Just leave a review telling me if you want me to continue.