Full Summary:

August 15th, 2011. All Alfred wanted was to spend all day with his brother. However, what promised to be a good day turns disastrous as Matthew is hit and killed by a truck. Alfred blacks out, and reawakens in his bed. The date is still August 15th, 2011. Realizing the day has reset, Alfred is determined to save his brother. AU, based on Kagerou Days, or Heat Haze Days, by Miku Hatsune. Human names used. Rated T for violence. Also, there are minor differences from the original PV to this story, such as the day resetting to August 15th instead of the 14th, just to let the story flow better.

Please excuse my bad writing, this is my first ever attempt at any sort of story, let alone a fanfiction. ._. Criticism is welcomed. Also: I'm taking requests for characters, as in if you request a character/pairing, if I agree to it, I'll make a story centered around that character/pairing.

August 15th, 2011. Los Angeles, California. The temperature is 34°C; sunny, hot, and dry.

Inside his room, a blond boy groaned, his face buried into his pillow drenched with sweat. He wore nothing but a thin tank top and his boxers, his blankets no longer covering his body but rather, kicked off because he got too hot during the night. The summer heat would be more tolerable if the air conditioner had worked, but it had broken about a month ago. A pair of glasses laid on the nightstand next to the boy's bed. On his head, sticking out from the pillow was one strand of hair that waved softly in the slight breeze rolling in from the open window.

The boy's room had so many different things in it that it almost created a claustrophobic atmosphere. The walls were plastered with many posters of American movies and heroes, so many that the colors of the walls were unknown, and his bed was a bright red, white, and blue in the design of the Stars and Stripes. There were comics strewn everywhere, especially around the bed, mostly of adventure tales involving superheroes and action. Some of the books were scattered across the beige, carpeted floor, some open, some not. His desk, in one corner of the room next to a television set, had a backpack leaning against it. It was obvious that the backpack was mostly untouched, and neither were the binders and papers that sat on the desk. In the corner of one of the papers read: 'Jones, Alfred; Period 2, Geometry' in sloppy handwriting.

The boy's name was Alfred F. Jones. Self-proclaimed hero, extreme patriot to his home country, the United States of America, and a junior, soon to be senior, at seventeen years old. Alfred was tall, good-looking, and athletic, the typical heartthrob of his high school. However, Alfred wasn't stuck up like the stereotypical jock of the high school; he couldn't care less about social status. He just liked to hang out with his friends, such as Kiku Honda, the quiet Japanese exchange student, or Toris, the nervous boy who moved to Los Angeles from Lithuania or Latvia or somewhere (Alfred could never remember, he didn't own a world map) at a young age. However, Alfred's best friend was his half-brother, Matthew Williams.

Alfred, the older of the two, had a different father than Matthew, with Alfred's father being British, and Matthew's being French. Their shared mother was a Canada-born woman who moved to the United States, meeting Alfred's father and conceiving him, until the father had died from a car crash. Then, she had met Matthew's father, and Matthew was born. Alfred and Matthew, although close to each other, were different as night and day. Alfred was loud and obnoxious, always hyperactive and eager, with an insane fear of ghosts and zombies. Matthew, on the other hand, was quiet and reserved, shy and calm. He was so quiet, in fact, that most people barely recognized his existence. Matthew was usually only noticed whenever Alfred brought attention towards him, but he didn't mind. Matthew didn't like lots of attention anyways.

The sunlight glared into the bold, bright room, piercing through the fluttering curtains and shining straight on Alfred's golden-haired head. He groaned, shifting to try to get more comfortable. However, his efforts were useless; the sunlight reached every part of his bed. With an annoyed grumble, the American boy sat up, rubbing sleep from his bright blue eyes. He grabbed his glasses, which he had so fondly named 'Texas' for reasons unknown, and placed them over his face. The boy's stomach growled and he frowned, looking down. After a change of clothes into a white t-shirt with a simple black design and shorts, Alfred picked up his phone, glancing at the time.

12:28 p.m.

Wow, already noon! Alfred opened his door and ran downstairs, where he could smell the scent of food coming from the kitchen. His mother was in there, and so was Matthew, having already been up and about since 8 o'clock sharp. Their father was not there; he had a job to support the family with. Matthew and their mother both looked up as Alfred ran into the kitchen, skidding to a halt and sitting down at the table with a grin on his face.

"Morning!" he said, his white teeth shining. "What's for breakfa – ehhr, lunch?"

"Al! It's already 12:28, you sleep too much," the quiet voice replied, coming from the boy, two years younger, who was sitting across Alfred. He had the same face as Alfred, except his eye color was a soft, light indigo, bordering on violet, rather than a bright, bold blue. His hair was a lighter blond than Alfred's, coming down almost to his shoulder in wavy locks. Similarly to Alfred, a curly hair stuck out in the front of his hair, seemingly unable to be tamed. Matthew Williams wore an amused expression along with a thin, red hoodie with shorts. Glasses sat on the bridge of his nose, his purplish eyes looking straight at Alfred. A plush of a polar bear sat on his lap, its eyes peeking over the table. Matthew had gotten it for his fifth birthday and treasured it since, naming it 'Kumajirou'. Unfortunately, Matthew couldn't remember his bear's name over half the time, but refused to change it. He still kept Kumajirou by his side, even though he was already a sophomore, soon to be junior.

"Come on, Mattie! It's summer break, let me sleep in a little! You can start kicking me awake like usual when September's here," Alfred said, while grinning sheepishly. The mother shook her head with a light laugh of amusement, before setting plates in front of them both. On each plate was a sandwich. Alfred's was the classic ham and cheese, and he grinned happily. Matthew, being a vegetarian, had only vegetables such as lettuce and tomatoes in his.

"Thanks for the food," they both spoke, before beginning their meal. As soon as they were done, Alfred dragged Matthew outside with a happy smile, wanting to go to the park. He had wanted to bring a ball and some gloves, but Matthew had not allowed it, saying that his 'vital regions still hurt from the last time we tried to play catch'. Although slightly dejected, being Alfred, he recovered immediately, simply saying that they could play some other game at the park. After only a short walk of about three or four blocks, they were at the local lake. The ducks and geese in the lake quacked and honked at passerby that tried to feed them bread crumbs, hordes of pigeons gathering to steal the food away or at least get the leftovers. Alfred ran over to some swings and sat down, patting the one next to him, looking pointedly at Matthew. The indigo-eyed boy sighed, and with a smile, sat down on the swing next to his brother. He could be so immature sometimes, but Matthew supposed that was one of Alfred's charming points.

As soon as Matthew sat down on the bench, Alfred began talking. Matthew didn't really pay attention – Alfred usually told the same stories over and over again anyway. Alfred told tales about his school life, about how Kiku was a 'beast' at shooting games, how Ludwig almost tore off his head when he accidentally tripped Feliciano, how Ivan was a creepy commie, et cetera. In the middle of a monologue about the time when Ivan cowered in fear at the sight of his own sister, Alfred trailed off, raising an eyebrow. His brother was staring off into space, looking at the sky with Kumajirou in his arms. Alfred waved his hand in front of Matthew's face, trying to get his attention. Matthew blinked and looked over with a start, a sheepish, apologetic expression on his face.

"Sorry Al, it's just that you tell the same stories over and over again all the time. I was just thinking about other stuff."

"Dude, that's totally not cool! I do not tell the same stories over and over again, I add variety! Well anyway, what were you thinkin' about?" Alfred asked as he reached over and poked Matthew, waiting eagerly for an answer. Matthew swatted away Alfred's hand, a slight frown on his face.

"Well," he began, looking down at his polar bear plush, petting the white, artificial fur. "You know… I kind of hate summer," said Matthew, watching his fingers run through the smooth, synthesized hairs. "I really hate it, actually."

Alfred waited to hear more, but no more words came out of his brother's mouth. He raised an eyebrow skeptically, crossing his arms and looking at Matthew. He had expected more than just that. Alfred already knew that his brother disliked hot weather, and therefore disliked summer. Just another difference between Alfred and Matthew. Alfred hated the cold winters, and loved the warmer summers.

"Was that all? Well then! If you're so hot right now, let's go get ice cream, yeah?" Alfred said, with a big grin. "I'll pay for both of us!"

Matthew couldn't help but smile, and nodded in agreement. They both rose from the swings and began walking out of the park, occasionally making jokes, jabbing at and teasing each other. Right before the cross-section, however, Matthew accidentally dropped his plush. Being on top of a hill, Kumajirou began to roll down it, into the middle of the road.

"Oh no, Kumagorou!" Matthew cried, trying his best to remember his polar bear's name. He ran in front of Alfred, trying to reach the polar bear before the light went green and it got ran over. There was an alarmed look on Matthew's face as he rushed down the street after his beloved toy. Alfred ran after Matthew, trying to help him get back his bear; Matthew always threw a horrible tantrum when his Kuma was gone, and Alfred had learned that the hard way years ago when he hid it as a practical joke.

Thankfully, however, the streets were mostly empty. Matthew slowed his pace and walked onto the road, picking up Kumajirou and dusting him off. With a smile, he turned around to go back to Alfred, who was still coming down the hill for his brother had a head start. Alfred grinned back at Matthew, waving as he slowed down his run into a jog, stopping at the sidewalk by the road, waiting for Matthew to come back.

Matthew, the smile still on his face, began to walk back, when a truck came speeding from the road, turning a corner. Neither brother had enough time to react. Matthew's head had barely turned when the white cargo truck slammed into his body, sending his body and his blood flying, and staining the white truck red.

Alfred's eyes widened and he stumbled back at the sudden turn of events. His shocked blue eyes watched as his frail brother's body broke on impact, flying away into the middle of the road, causing some cars to swerve and almost crash in alarm. The front of the cargo truck was splattered with crimson blood, and so was the road. Matthew laid face down into the pavement, his head turned sideways, and his wide, now dull indigo eyes staring straight at Alfred through broken glasses. Kumajirou, equally stained red, rolled to Alfred's feet, the black marble eyes staring at nothing like its owner.

The sounds of screams surrounded Alfred as he dropped to his knees, his hand going up to cover his mouth. The heavy stench of blood made him feel sick, his head beginning to spin. Tears poured out of his eyes as he stared at his brother's corpse, yet he couldn't tear them away. His brother, his best friend. Dead. Killed by a speeding truck, when the afternoon just barely began. They hadn't even gotten ice cream together yet.

Alfred could barely see, his vision warped by his tears, fogging up his glasses. The real world seemed to become distorted as well, everything seeming to bend and distort due to the heat wave that was passing through Los Angeles. The scene almost faded to black before returning to normal, everything blurring in and out of focus. Alfred began to feel dizzy, his mind barely able to comprehend. He reached out a hand in Matthew's direction, as if doing so would bring his brother back. It had to be a lie. His brother wasn't dead. This was some sick dream brought on by the summer's heat haze.

"This is no lie."

Alfred's eyes slightly widened, his hand twitching. In the middle of the heat distortion, he thought he saw a half-transparent figure standing across the street that Matthew had tried to run across. The figure smiled, and Alfred could see a head of red hair, and pinkish eyes that seemed to mock him over tinted sunglasses. The illusion of the heat haze stood and smiled at him, clothed in jeans and a bomber jacket like Alfred's own despite the heat.

"You lived, and your brother died."

The illusion brought on by the heat haze laughed, and Alfred's world finally went dark. The clock stopped turning, and was covered in blood.

Alfred's eyes shot open as he jolted up in bed. He was breathing hard and with one hand, he clutched his head. His hand immediately felt moist with sweat, but he paid no mind. Instead, he quickly grappled around his nightstand until he found his phone, immediately turning it on and staring at the screen. What time was it?

The digital clock read: 12:04 p.m, August 15th, 2011, Sunday.

Alfred blinked and stared at the phone's screen for a long time, unmoving. Finally, he let out a long sigh and put the phone back on the table. He let himself fall back down onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. Memories of Matthew's death replayed in his head. Was it all just a dream? If it was, then that was a complete nightmare. Alfred chuckled and shook his head, feeling happy. It was still August 15th. His brother was still alive. Alfred probably just drank one too many sodas before he slept the night before. After ten minutes of sitting on his bed in silence and staring out the window, the boy finally got up and dressed, into a white t-shirt with black designs, and cargo shorts. He went downstairs, where he could already smell the scent of toast, and saw that his mother and Matthew were there, sitting at the table.

Alfred's face split into a wide grin and he immediately hugged his brother, causing him to nearly drop his polar bear. He was so glad Matthew was still alive. It was all just a horrible nightmare, after all!

"A-Al! Let go of me, you're crushing my ribs!" Matthew gasped, trying to pry off his brother's death grip while keeping a hold on Kumajirou. Alfred finally did let go after a while, and he looked down at his brother with a grin.

"Morning, little bro! Sorry about that! Anyway, what's for lunch?"

"Really, Al, you need to learn how to control your strength," sighed Matthew, shaking his head with a smile. "And it's already past noon! You sleep too much."

"It's summer break, Mattie! Let me sleep in as much as I want. You can start kicking me awake and stuff again when the school year starts!"

"Calm down, you two, and eat your food," interjected the mother of the two brothers, a soft smile on her face. Alfred immediately stopped his loud, grating laugh and sat down, eating his sandwich. Something nagged at the back of his brain while he was eating. Didn't Alfred have ham and cheese sandwich in his nightmare?

Alfred shook off the thought. There was no way that was possible! Alfred quickly gulped down his sandwich, and made Matthew hurry up and finish his vegetarian sandwich, before pestering him to go to the park. Just like in his nightmare, Matthew refused to let Alfred take the gloves and ball. The nagging in Alfred's head increased, and when Matthew tried to take his polar bear with him, Alfred took it out of his hands and put Kumajirou on the couch.

"H-hey! Why'd you take Kumazaburou?"

"It's Kumajirou, Mattie, remember? And I think it's better if you leave him behind. You don't want to, like, drop him in the lake or get him run over by a truck, right?"

Alfred shivered slightly at the second example. He didn't want to delve deep into that. Dreaming about his brother dying was horrible enough, and he didn't want dream to become reality. After some argument, Matthew finally agreed, albeit grudgingly. The two made their trip to the park, and found themselves sitting on the swings again. However, this time, Alfred wasn't sharing his stories with his brother. He was quiet, staring at the ground, slightly rocking on the chains of the swing. Matthew raised an eyebrow and looked over at him, curious.

"Al, is there something wrong? You're being really quiet," Matthew asked, his voice a little higher than a whisper. Alfred blinked and jerked back to reality, blue eyes closing and opening rapidly before resting on his brother.

"Oh… Sorry, Mattie. I was just thinking about some stuff," the patriotic boy replied, with an apologetic smile.

"Really? Well… I was thinking about some stuff, too," the quiet brother replied, beginning to swing lightly as well. The nagging in the back of Alfred's head returned, and he thought he saw a smirking, vaguely familiar figure in the trees.

"Yeah? What kind of things? Like your boyfriend Gilbert?" Alfred teased, a grin on his face to try to deter the conversation. Matthew immediately blushed slightly, looking at Alfred with a flustered frown.

"He's not my boyfriend, Al! He's just a good friend. If you say that again, I'll start telling everyone that Ivan is your boyfriend!"

"Ew! Hell no, I would never date that commie!" Alfred made a face, which caused Matthew to laugh. However, his laughter died down rather quickly, and he looked up at the sky with his purple eyes.

"You know… I kind of hate summer," he spoke, sending shivers down Alfred's spine. This was too much déjà vu. However, the smile came back quickly onto Matthew's face as he looked up at his brother. "Oh, sorry, you like summer, don't you? But it's so hot… Do you want to go get some ice cream together?"

Alfred's face lit up at the prospect of ice cream – one of his favorite foods! – and was about to agree excitedly, when the memories from the nightmare hit him. They were on their way to get ice cream when Matthew was suddenly struck and murdered by a truck. The blond's excitement faltered, and he shook his head.

"No, no ice cream today… I think I had a nightmare last night from eating too much of it," Alfred said, making up an excuse. "There's a new café that opened the other day, a couple blocks down from here. They serve some great pancakes; do ya wanna go there instead?"

Matthew seemed a little shocked that his gluttonous brother would refuse ice cream, but his eyes lit up as soon as pancakes were mentioned. Matthew Williams believed that only two foods were necessary for survival: pancakes, and maple syrup. He was a boy who dared to try out any food with maple syrup, and insisted that nothing was bad when coupled with the sweet tasting liquid.

Matthew nodded happily and set off down the street with his brother. Alfred had chosen to go to the newly constructed café because it was in the opposite direction of the street where Matthew had died. He didn't want to take any chances. The two talked and laughed as they made their way over to the café. The café, owned by a Swedish man and his wife, was the bottom floor of a tall building. The couple lived in the floor above the little shop, and the rest of the building was to become an apartment. As the upper floors were still in construction, machines continued to drone on the rooftop. It was a simple, yet charming little café, with a wooden sign that read 'Kukkamuna' with the illustration of a white dog. Matthew noted that the sign was in Finnish. Alfred didn't know, though; he could barely tell the difference between French and Spanish.

Suddenly, around the two brothers, some people began to yell and gasp. Alfred looked around, confused. Some of the people were pointing up, and naturally, Alfred's eyes followed their direction. Above the rooftop, he saw some wires break on a crane, and metal poles were falling from the sky. Alfred's eyes widened as one of the poles came directly towards him, and he stood there, rooted with fear and surprise.

"Al! Move!"

Suddenly, Alfred felt himself get pulled backwards and he stumbled back, falling on his rump. He saw a head of blond hair and a body clothed in a red hoodie rush forward, wide indigo eyes glancing back at him once.

"Ma—"

The metal pole pierced Matthew's body. It passed right through the middle of his torso, and the end of the pole stuck to the ground, cracking the concrete. Matthew fell over due to the impact and coughed up blood, his blood dripping out onto the cement. He screamed and cried out in pain, gritting his teeth and looking down. His hair covered his eyes, and his fists were clenched. Meanwhile, Alfred watched, his blue eyes wide.

"Mattie! Mattie!"

It wasn't true; it had to be a dream. Alfred couldn't lose his brother again, no, it would be too much. It was just another nightmare, he told himself, as he scrambled up and reached out for his brother, the pole sticking out from his fragile body like a grotesque, extra limb. Alfred wrung his shaking hands, not knowing what to do, only able to stare down, horrified, at Matthew's weakening body. He eventually grabbed his own head, pulling at his hair in distress. It was a dream. It had to be.

"This is no dream," called a voice. Alfred's head jerked up, his eyes widening at the figure standing on the other side of Matthew. It was the same illusion from his so-called dream, with the same smirk, same red hair, same eyes that stared him down. "It's all true, and the last one was, too. You survived again; aren't you happy?"

The same feeling of dizziness returned, Alfred beginning to sway on the spot. The screaming of the surrounding passerby at what had just happened suddenly became vague, as if it was all muffled. His vision began to go dark again, until the only colors he was able to see were black, white, and red. Before the world disappeared once more, Alfred thought he saw a small smile grace Matthew's lips.

Alfred, while his subconscious was in the dark, awakened for a short moment to see a hallway full of turning clocks. The heat haze stood in the middle of it, staring at one certain clock through tinted sunglasses. The clock had stopped turning, and was smeared with blood. The heat haze noticed Alfred, and smiled. A second clock, next to the first one, stopped ticking and the second hand laid still. The illusion, who looked like Alfred's doppelganger, raised its hand, stained in red, and smeared the second clock with crimson.

Alfred jolted up in bed once more. His forehead was covered in cold sweat, his eyes wide and breathing heavily. The hallway of clocks. The heat haze.

"This is no lie."

"This is no dream."

Matthew.

Alfred threw on his clothes and ran down the stairs, where Matthew and his mother were waiting, like before. Matthew's face lightened up and he opened his mouth to greet his brother, but Alfred abruptly grabbed his arm and dragged him outside. Their mother, surprised, called at Alfred to wait, but he ignored her, continuing to run. The panicked boy said nothing as he went around the back of their apartment and ran up the stairs, Matthew stumbling and trying hard to keep up behind him.

"A-Alfred! What's wrong, where are you taking me?" Matthew yelled, his glasses bouncing on his face, his arms empty as he had dropped his Kumajirou back in their house. Alfred did not respond, just simply continuing to run up the stairs, keeping Matthew close to him. Something had to be done differently; Alfred couldn't lose Matthew again. He simply kept running up the stairs until he reached the top. He turned around to make sure that Matthew was still following, when he saw a figure out of the corner of his eyes.

The heat haze was waiting for Alfred on top of the stairs, looking downwards with closed eyes, a smirk on his face. Alfred spun around abruptly, shocked at the sight of it. He looked at the figure with fear in his eyes, about to ask what it wanted from him, when he realized something was missing. Matthew's wrist was not in his arm. He had let go by accident, taken by surprise by the heat haze.

Alfred looked backwards, to see Matthew falling back, still reaching out for him, his indigo eyes wide behind glasses that reflected the summer heat's light. Alfred's eyes widened in horror before he screwed them shut, hearing several loud thuds, before a final 'crack!' that resounded through the silent apartment complex. After a moment of silence, Alfred slowly opened his eyes, afraid to see what had happened. Matthew's body lay down at the bottom of the stairs, eyes wide and staring at the sky, blood forming a large puddle around his body. Alfred could only stare in horror, his heart beating rapidly.

He felt two hands clasp onto his shoulders, steadying him when he began to sway again. Alfred's head slightly turned to see the heat haze right beside him, smiling softly down at Matthew's body. Its eyes traveled up to look at Alfred. The latter looked back at his doppelganger illusion, whose smile widened.

"Isn't it great to be alive?"

Alfred's body trembled. He almost dropped to his knees again, but he was a bit steadier this time. He shook his head side to side, his head dropping down. Matthew died again. It was Alfred's fault. He failed to save his brother from another death. This was the third time, wasn't it?

Alfred's eyes slid shut, his world turning black. When he opened them again, he found himself in the hallway of clocks from before, his doppelganger standing in front of him. A third clock had stopped turning, and the heat haze reached over, smearing it with blood too. Alfred watched silently, glaring at the heat haze, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Do you think this is some sick joke?" he hissed, pointing accusingly at the heat haze's face. It frowned in response, looking at Alfred, confused. Alfred continued to glare at it, before slowly looking downwards, his arm dropping.

"…I want to go back," he murmured, his tears dropping onto the floor. His voice rose, looking up at the heat haze, his blue eyes hard and cold despite the tears. "I want to go back! I have to save Matthew!"

The heat haze continued to frown at him, not saying anything. Instead, Alfred's world went dark once more, and he woke up in his bed.

"One more time."

Reset. Blood on the train tracks. Repeat.

Reset. The bloody nail bat of a gang. Repeat.

Reset. The ring of a gunshot. Repeat.

Reset. "Why do you try so hard?" Repeat.

Reset. "Why aren't you glad that you're alive?" Repeat.

...

Alfred stood in the hallway of clocks, his hand resting on another bloody timepiece. The hallway was filled with red-stained clocks, once filled with so many turning hands that it could turn anyone dizzy, but now carrying the heavy stench of silence and blood. Matthew's blood. So many clocks, so many failures. Alfred's eyes traveled around the clocks on the walls, and he realized that he must've been repeating this for decades, failing each and every time. How many different ways had he seen his brother die?

Alfred's glassy eyes were reflected in one of the still turning clocks. How many more clocks were there? How many more times did Matthew have to die, because of him? Alfred stared into the surface of the clock, seeing the scene unfold behind him. Matthew and Alfred were laughing, when Kumajirou suddenly dropped out of the former's hands. The stupid polar bear rolled down the hill, and Matthew chased after it, Alfred following a little after.

Alfred's eyes darkened as he watched the scene. He knew the truck would come around the corner, and kill Matthew. But no two deaths had been the same, so far. Why was this loop the same as the first one? Alfred saw Matthew bend over and pick up Kumajirou, before turning around and smiling at the Alfred in that loop. Alfred straightened up, suddenly knowing exactly what to do in order to get past this time, this one summer's day.

Alfred ran out, into the new time loop, replacing the Alfred he saw in the scene. Just as the truck turned around the corner, Alfred ran into the street, pulling back his brother and throwing him out on the sidewalk, out of harm's way. Time suddenly seemed to slow down, Matthew's indigo eyes widening in shock, and the truck coming to meet Alfred's body in slow motion. Alfred's grimace turned into a smile a second before the truck hit him.

This way, Mattie was safe.

Instantly, pain shot through Alfred's body as he flew, hearing and feeling several of his bones crack, his limbs flying at odd angles. He landed on the pavement, hearing another loud crack and blood seeping through his hair. Alfred did not die instantly, being sturdier than his brother, who died on impact with the truck. Through quickly glazing eyes, he saw the heat haze standing besides his shocked brother. The heat haze looked astonished, its reddish hair messy and pinkish red eyes wide. Tears began streaming out of the eyes that had laughed at him so many times before. Alfred grinned.

'Serves you right,' he weakly mouthed, unable to form words as his consciousness faded at a rapid pace. Alfred had won. By sacrificing himself, Matthew would live. Matthew would grieve and be distraught for the first few weeks or so, maybe, but he would get over it. Matthew would go on and live, graduate school, get a job, and a nice family. He would survive. Alfred had finally won.

Alfred gave one last glance towards his brother, the smile still on his face. His brother had specks of Alfred's blood on him, and so did Kumajirou. He was screaming, horrified, apparently calling for help. It was too late, however; Alfred could already feel his brain shutting down, and his heart had stopped. He was about to finally close his eyes, satisfied, when he saw the second figure standing by Matthew. The figure looked like a second Matthew at first, but was different. The almost invisible figure looked up, straight at Alfred, wavy locks tied in a ponytail and faintly visible, indigo eyes blank. The second heat haze put a hand on Matthew's shoulder, and smiled.

Alfred's eyes widened, one last time, before his world went dark.

The heat haze stood in a hallway of clocks. However, instead of being smeared with blood, the clocks that had stopped running were broken, shards littering the ground. The shards cut into the heat haze's feet, but it didn't notice, or mind. The newest clock that had stopped turning was broken, as well, and blood dripped down to the floor where the glass had cut its hands. Its eyes stared blankly at the wall of ticking hands.

How many times had it been so far?

The heat haze turned his head to look at the boy standing before him, his fists clenched. Tears dripped out from behind blond locks, sneaking out from behind the glasses that rested on his nose.

"One of you has to die, you know."

"I'd rather it be me than him. I'd do anything to save my brother."

8:00 a.m, on an early summer morning. A boy woke up in bed, tears streaming out of his eyes. He slowly got up, his blond hair messy, a strand sticking out the front and drooping in front of his face. He didn't bother to grab his glasses, and simply sat there on the bed, pulling up his knees. The boy's room was clean and organized, with a shelf full of books. All his homework for the summer break had been done, and neatly put back into their binders and into his backpack, ready for the school year to start in less than a month. His room was a modest white, with a red carpet. A single Canadian flag was pinned on the wall, and a small sign on his red door read 'Matthew Williams' in neat calligraphy.

The boy clutched the plush of a polar bear in his arms, hugging it tightly. His dull indigo eyes looked down, his tears falling on Kumajirou's head and disappearing. The digital clock by his bed read '8:00 a.m, August 15th, Sunday' in bold, black letters.

"I failed again, Kuma…" Matthew whispered. A figure appeared in the boy's room, sitting down besides the bed. It wrapped an arm around Matthew's shoulders, indigo eyes similar to Matthew's looking at him, although they conveyed no emotion. It smiled softly, but even that gesture had no meaning behind it, and it faded quickly, replaced by a frown.

"Why can't you be happy that you stayed alive?"