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[On the whole, Canada didn't sleep a whole lot. Never had, likely never would. A few hours here and there were refreshing, but not absolutely necessary, in any longer chunks. So waking up to find his clock read some ungodly hour of the morning wasn't unusual. It was the vivid, horrid dream that had awoken him that was unusual. It wasn't any of the typical nightmare setups. There was a battlefield or piece of weaponry in sight. Just him. And others. And him being everything he hated in other Nations.
It took him a few minutes to identify it as memories, not just a dream. A few more minutes to question Kumajirou and hear about the conversations he'd had over the past few days. The conversations he'd goaded others into stopping, because he was being that much of an asshole. Isolation was one thing, but when others stopped talking to you because you were being a horrible being... He felt cold inside, more humiliated than he had ever been, and a little bit sick at the thought of the others not forgiving him. France and Netherlands... he'd known them, respected them both for hundreds of years. And they'd both hung up on him.
If his housemates happen to be in the kitchen at around five in the morning, they'll catch the waffle-iron getting put to good use. Before too long, there are plates of stroopwafles of apology ready to be delivered and/or left out for everyone as a general apology. The filling is probably a bit maplier than usual, but the thought's still definitely there. Netherlands and Scotland both get plates of the treat left in front of their doors, with identical, handwritten notes:
There's no excusing how I behaved, but I'm still really sorry anyway.
Canada
And once those are dealt with, provided no one stops him, he's off to visit France.]
It took him a few minutes to identify it as memories, not just a dream. A few more minutes to question Kumajirou and hear about the conversations he'd had over the past few days. The conversations he'd goaded others into stopping, because he was being that much of an asshole. Isolation was one thing, but when others stopped talking to you because you were being a horrible being... He felt cold inside, more humiliated than he had ever been, and a little bit sick at the thought of the others not forgiving him. France and Netherlands... he'd known them, respected them both for hundreds of years. And they'd both hung up on him.
If his housemates happen to be in the kitchen at around five in the morning, they'll catch the waffle-iron getting put to good use. Before too long, there are plates of stroopwafles of apology ready to be delivered and/or left out for everyone as a general apology. The filling is probably a bit maplier than usual, but the thought's still definitely there. Netherlands and Scotland both get plates of the treat left in front of their doors, with identical, handwritten notes:
There's no excusing how I behaved, but I'm still really sorry anyway.
Canada
And once those are dealt with, provided no one stops him, he's off to visit France.]