Paraguay knows a myriad of things. How to tie a sailor's knot, despite being landlocked. How to smile politely whilst sharpening his knives. How to fire a gun.
He knows how to read people, too, and it seems that comes out the most important, these days.
He knows Uruguay, somehow. Knows his shy but determined voice and the unseen steel in his eyes, know the look he has when he's ready to kill and the look when the knife is going into the back of someone he loves.
He knows they're allies, or at least he thought he did, because he stepped into to save him, from Brazil, but Uruguay left him to the dust.
He knows Brazil, too, although he wished he didn't. But he makes it a mission to know thine enemy, and know them well. He knows the shattered-glass crystal that Brazil is looking through, the mirage-like pieces of the future he's looking to. He knows the great Brazilian empire has a chokehold on him, and Paraguay knows another thing too.
He knows the reason Brazil always smiles. It's because otherwise, you see the death in his eyes. And that's a hard thing to hide.
He knows Argentina, though not as well. But he knows jealousy when he sees it, he knows the burning ice look in his eyes when he's at the table with Brazil. Paraguay knows jealousy. Jealousy is easy.
But there's something he doesn't know, and that in it of itself makes him despise Argentina. Because when Argentina looks at Brazil, there's always something unreadable in his eyes, something even Paraguay can't get a proper grip on, like a star swept glimmering piece of the sea at night.
He knows himself too, his gun bracketing near insanity and the swish of bright colors in the back of his vision, but that's not really all too important. He gets the feeling that he won't be around much longer.