At UN Academy, one of the most prestigious schools in the world, students moved through the hallways with the usual mix of chatter, hurried footsteps, and exchanged whispers. Among them, USA—top student, sharp and observant—walked alongside his siblings, keeping an eye on the school’s daily rhythm.

Canada walked beside him, flanked by his brothers—New Zealand and Australia—moving with a quiet confidence that seemed to radiate effortlessly. But today was different.

Everyone was noticing him. Other students, representatives of future organizations, nations, cities—eyes following him like he was the main attraction of some grand parade. The subtle whispering, the occasional double-take, the secret glances—it all centered on him.

Canada hated the attention. Hated it. Yet… he couldn’t deny the faint warmth of pride that trickled through him. Flattered, yes, but he kept his gaze straight ahead, moving with the kind of poise that had earned him the title of the school’s Escort.

New Zealand elbowed him lightly.

New Zealand: "Looks like everyone’s eyes are glued to you again. Enjoying it yet?"

Canada grunted, exhaling softly.

Canada: "Don’t get used to it. I’d rather they focus on someone else."

Australia smirked, nudging him

Australia: "Sure, sure. But admit it… it’s kinda nice to have all that attention, isn’t it?"

Canada shook his head, lips pressed into a thin line. His strides remained even, measured, professional. He didn’t need validation—but the truth was, deep down, he couldn’t completely ignore the feeling that came with being admired by nearly everyone around him.

Canada, muttering under his breath, just enough for himself to hear,

Canada: “I hate this… but maybe just a little.”