Historical facts:

From 1800 to 1803 Louisiana was again in the control of France. At the time, Napolean was interested in recreating a French Empire. So in 1800 he took back Lousiana. But in 1803 Thomas Jefferson purchased Louisiana from the French.

Canada now looked like a young boy of twelve human years. He toured his land like he regularly did. Today he was heading south. If he was lucky enough, he might catch sight of his brother. Canada hasn't seen him in a month. Not since England's last reunion.

England liked to keep a watchful eye on his colonies. He would regularly arrange for meetings with all of them. Sometimes they would go to his place. Sometimes he would come and visit the two North American brothers. But they would see each other at least every 6 months, if not more frequently.

It had felt odd at first for the young Canadian. France wouldn't come as frequently, but when France came he would stay for a few months, and it would just be the two of them exploring, playing, having fun. They would hunt together, cuddle together near a fire, France would tell him a story before bedtime; France acted like a papa or a big brother to him.

Whereas England would only keep them for a few days at most. They never had time to develop a close relationship; they rarely did anything together. Of course, England would spend some time with them and teach them some things. But he felt more like a teacher rather than a family member. At least to Canada it felt that way. To America it seemed that England was more than a teacher and like an actual family member. But that was probably because England spent more time with America, or so, Canada thought. From time to time, Canada would feel nostalgic and wished France's return. But as the decades went by, Canada lost hope of ever seeing him again.

As Canada neared the border that separated him from his brother, he heard some people talking and instantly recognized America's loud voice. I wonder who he's talking to? Canada though, as he walked towards the noise. He gently pushed away a few tree branches that were in his way. When he stepped into clear view he could finally see that America was facing someone, laughing his head off. However, he was still to far away to clearly distinguish America's friend. So he walked towards them.

America, upon hearing someone approach, quickly turned his head to see who it was. When he recognized his brother he beamed him a grin and waved his arm frantically, to which Canada answered back with a small smile.

America's friend, who was also smiling, turned to face the new comer. Once he locked eyes with Canada, he instantly grew pale, his smile disappearing from his lips.

Canada instantly stopped in his tracks, for he too was surprised – more than surprised – to come face to face with France.

Seconds prolonged themselves into minutes as the two of them stud face to face, observing each other. After a while France grew anxious and started to fidget. He didn't like Canada's silence; it made him uneasy. He would have preferred anything else instead: a hug, or even a slap in the face; anything besides Canada's blank stare.

Canada didn't know how to react. Should he feel angry? Should he feel relieved? He felt both, but those feelings were jumbled up together. He didn't know which one to express.

France couldn't stand it anymore so he decided to break the silence. "Well… heu… it's nice to see you again. You've grown." He tried as graciously as he could to look pleased, yet failed miserable as the silence remained.

Finally, Canada decided to speak up. "Why?" he murmured.

"Pardon?"

He spoke a little louder. "Why?"

"Why what?" France asked, genuinely puzzled.

This time Canada practically yelled. "Why are you here? Why did you leave me? Why are you with America? Since you were here, why didn't you come to see me? Why? Why? Why?!" he cried out loud, his face flushed in anger and fists clenched in a tight grip.

France sighed. "It's not what you think…" He watched him with his eyes full of sadness, his heart aching.

"No?" Canada's anger instantly vanished and he stared back at him with a look of cold serenity mixed with pure hatred. "Then explain to me, papa." He spat the last word.

"It's not my fault. I didn't chose where I would be going. Napoleon sent me here to reclaim North American territory. He wants to build up a big French Empire, and he told me to start by taking control of Louisiana…" France trailed off, now knowing what else he could add.

"And you couldn't come to see me?" Canada asked, in a calm voice, which sent chills down France's spine.

"I'm not allowed to see you anymore, Canada. You're no longer under my care." He replied miserably, looking down at the ground. He couldn't face Canada's accusing stare.

"So you were planning on ignoring me? You were planning on sailing all the way over here without coming to see me even once? Not once?"

France, who was still staring at the ground, couldn't find any words to say. He bit his lower lip. Sure, he could have come up with a hundred excuses, but deep down he knew he was in fault.

"England was right." Canada continued. "You are a coward." France flinched, and tentatively raised his gaze to look back at him with pleading eyes, begging him to understand that the circumstances we not in his favor, that he hadn't meant to do any harm, that he truly wanted to see Canada – his cherished son – again.

"I… I really missed you…" Canada began to tear up. "I wanted to see you so badly…" tears fell freely down his cheeks.

That sight was breaking France's heart even more. He took a few steps towards him and tentatively raised a hand up. "Canada…"

"No!" Canada warned. "Don't come any closer." His anger flared up again and he swatted France's hand away. "I hate you! I hate you so much!" Suddenly he swiftly turned around and ran. "Adieu." He called before disappearing into the woods.

"Canada, wait!" France cried out. He started to chance after him but quickly stopped, his head hung low. He didn't think chasing Canada would change anything. He thought Canada never wanted to see him again.

But if he had mustered up the courage to chase after him, Canada might have given him a second chance.