Chapter 1

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He stood facing the door with irritation plastered to his face. He had been standing there for ten minutes and still his son refused to answer the door. "Matthieu, open up! I know you are in there, I can see your lights are on! Your mail is stacked yay high and I am sick of waiting for you to come and open the door like a gentleman!" He tapped his foot again and sighed heavily, turning the silver door handle. "I heard your doorbell go off and Francis told me he'd seen you in the kitchen not but ten minutes ago through the window! Now I really must insist that you open this door or I shall come in without such pleasantries!"


The Englishman heaved open the door when no reply or footsteps came and to his disapproval, a cloud of dust followed it. Coughing slightly and blowing the foul dust aside, he closed the door behind him, straightened his tie and walked down the hall, aiming for the door to Matthieu's bedroom, which stood slightly ajar; light drifting through it's crack.


"Honestly, the bloody git's been busy lately, I can see that but can't he take the time to dust a little?" He slid his finger over a table by the wall, where roses wilted in desperate need of attention and water. An inch thick, and still drifting through the air, he tsk-tsked and wiped his finger off with his handkerchief. "Matthieu you are being very irresponsible!" he called. "Letting your plants die like this-" He stopped at the door and listened. No sounds could be heard within. "Matthieu, I am coming in, for I can see you lack proper social skills this evening." And he pushed the door open, scanning the room for his only remaining son.


Matthieu was sitting with his back to his father, facing the wall, his knees pulled to his chest, and his bear Kumajirou, patting his leg.


"Matthieu? Are you all right?" He asked.


"Arthur?" He replied, turning his head slightly, his wavy blond hair shifting. "Yes. Never better. Please go away." He said passively; emotionless.


But Arthur simply shifted his weight to one foot, crossing his arms in skepticism. "You seem a bit... well, to put it most bluntly, you seem almost depressed Matthieu. That being said, I shall not leave! For God's sake man, your plants are dying and there is dust a mile thick shrouding everything!" He walked closer to his son and placed a hand on his shoulder, to which Matthieu recoiled from the touch.


"I don't need your sympathy Papa." He said, pushing his hand away. "I've just been busy lately."


"Indeed, cleaning up your brother's mess must be frightfully dreadful- If  the task is too daunting, why not ask for help? Is that not what Alfred's problem was?"


"Brilliant deduction eh, but I don't need your help." he snapped almost too quickly. He turned on Arthur then, glaring what appeared to be daggers at him. He was obviously tired, for dark circles had traced his eyes behind his glasses.


"Matthieu-" Arthur began, worriedly. It was unlike the Canadian to act this way- he was usually so sweet, polite and quiet! It was pretty much the main reason people didn't often take notice to him. "You need a break! Clearly the loss of your brother is still with you, it is still with all of us! Please, you must take a rest for a moment and let Francis and I lend you a hand! I am most positive that frog wishes to help you as much as I do! Let your parents assist, it is what parents are for after all!"


"You think Maman will help? Yes, he was here a bit ago as well. I have already told you as I have told him. I do not need your help. Quit asking or I'll have to drop 'papa' and start calling you 'hoser'." And he stood and walked over to the door to his bedroom, opening it. "Shall I show you the door then?" he asked.


Arthur sighed and shook hi head, "No need for that Matthieu, I know the way." And he nodded curtly and walked past him. "I need to see Francis. We must talk sense into Matthieu. I know he is stressed, but it cannot be good for his health!" And he departed down the street hurriedly, eager to seek out his partner in crime; his nagging conscience: his wife.




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Matthieu's back was pressed to the opposing side of the front door, a hand to his head. Chuckling a bit, he smiled sorrowfully. "They don't really care do they Kuma?" He asked in a melancholy way, and Kumajirou frowned with worry. "They never truly did. It's all an appearance thing really- what they really want is Alfred's land. But they can't have it."

Oh sad and little butterfly,
Why do you sit as such and cry?

He walked past his bedroom, heading for the door next to it which always stayed locked. Withdrawing the necklace he kept the key dangling on (he always kept it on his person) he unlocked the door. "Because they think by helping me I'll be willing to give it up." He frowned, tears coming back. "But land or no land, Alfred is still mine! He is my twin! and they can't have him!"

"I lost my favourite flower today
With winter cold it died away!"

He unlocked the door, opening it to a dark room, closing and locking it behind him. The room bore no windows but light from monitors softly flared to life with it's inferred motion sensors. "Haha- They'll never be allowed to have you, now will they?

And with a sad and little sigh
The butterfly, he said "Goodbye."

In the centre of the dark room lit only by monitors sat positioned a 'tank' where the lifeless blond form of Alfred stood frozen in harsh, glass-clear ice, perpetually preserved. His face held an expressionless sleep, appearing to all the world as a three dimensional painting, if nothing else. Matthieu gently and caressingly rested his palm on the glass, the heat sending condensation just above it. "They aren't worthy to have your land Alfred. They never were, after all- I was the one who came to help, not them. Never them." And he grinned again.

But then had popped in his mind;
A wondrous thought to pass his time!

It was such a strange grin. A thin grin; a sad grin. An insanely crooked grin which curved up his lips like some twisted puppet, who's artist slipped when painting their lines.

"Let's bring more flowers all together
And make a garden bright and better!"

"I'm having a thought Kumajirou." the Canadian said quite suddenly. The small bear that never left his side looked startled that the blond nation had remembered his name; something that rarely (if ever) happened. "Alfred was always thinking big wasn't he? Perhaps we should as well, non? We should bring everyone together so that they can all share in his dreams of grandeur! Oh yes... but who to ask first?"

"I'll bring my other friends in hand
And build a pretty place so grand!"

He slid his fingers over the icy glass, pressing his forehead to it in deep thought. "Oh, I know just the man! I'm sure he'd simply love to assist us- he's always asking the same of everyone else anyways, what choice would the second largest country have?" His grin suddenly spread further, violet-blue eyes widening at the very prospect of the thought. "Oh that's right isn't it? I am so much bigger now- so much bigger then he! Perhaps I can be stronger too!" He cackled aloud, throwing his head back. "Yes Alfred- I'll do it! Oh how happy they will all be to join in our cause!"

"I'll plant their seeds with love not dread!
My heart will lie inside that bed!"

He whirled around, his face losing the smile in an instant, a cold expression taking it's place. "Come Kumajirou- we have work to do." And he closed the dark room behind him, locking it tight.

"And lonely I'll no longer be
A bunch of friends surrounding me!"

"I need to prepare if I'm going to pay him a visit." He said and Kumajirou frowned, trailing after and tugging on his maple leaf jacket. "Hmm?" Matthieu looked down through his glasses and Kumajirou shivered slightly. Those eyes- sad, sad eyes were no longer familiar! So strange and foreign, as if he were looking at someone else. "Let it rest Kumajirou." Matthieu ordered sweetly, bending down to lift up the bear. "I'll make sure you get whatever you like when our dream is realized all right?" And he patted the bear gently on the head.

Oh what a party it'll be!
A sight for all eternity!

Kumajirou closed his eyes and snuggled into his grasp, remembering this kind of gentle treatment well. He had not held him like this for a while, too enveloped in his sadness. But Matthieu was particularly fond of him and whatever madness was breaking inside that brain of his, at least the kindness towards him would not falter.


"I'll bet you'd like something to eat-" Matthieu continued, heading towards the kitchen. "I know you like fish, but.... have you ever had anything else?" He looked kindly down at the bear as he sat him on the counter. "I know normal bears like to eat more then just fish-" He smiled sweetly, but something sparked in his eyes that almost frightened Kumajirou.


He walked hurriedly out of the room and after a moment of temporary shuffling clanging noises, he returned with a worn, bandage wrapped rifle and his jacket. "Come on! Let's go! I'll teach you something interesting." He grabbed the small bear and headed out the door where fresh snow was beginning to settle on the ice below.


The darkness of night was taking the land, and though Kumajirou could see well, he wondered how the Canadian was able to find his way through the blizzard that was rapidly taking hold of all visibility.


"Listen up eh- tonight is going to be most interesting. Trust me, you are going to like the result."

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(To be continued in Chapter 2)