It was always around sunset.

School would end at three thirty, and the kids would rush home after a day of working, meeting up with friends, playing…

But after hours, some kids would go to the park to play. It was always this time where it would be at its busiest, groups of children rushing around nosily. After a while though, they would either get bored or want to leave home for dinner and all would become quiet again.

There was one boy, though, who would always stay behind until the sun went down, and only then would he head for home. He was pale, with blonde hair that stuck up in strange ways, and looked as though it would attack like wild animal if anyone attempted to comb it down. The most striking thing about his appearance had to be those thick eyebrows, both of which were dark and bushy, like…two caterpillars on his face, really.

Whenever Alfred would look his way, those eyebrows were always knotted together into a frown. If he would ever catch the child's eye, which were a striking forest green, the frown would turn into a defensive glare in his direction, which would cause the American boy to look away, a little uneasily.

He would never join in to play with the other children. In fact, no one ever approached him at all. The other kids would give him a wide birth, acting as if he was part of the fencing which ran around the playground. Alfred would have asked him to play, but the boy looked as if he might lash out if he stepped anywhere near him.

It was one Friday evening, after school, of course, Alfred found the child staying on as the rest of his schoolmates left the park area in their small groups. He watched the blonde for a moment before turning to his younger brother. "Who's that kid, Matt?"

Matthew, who was almost the splitting image of his older brother, save the long curl that sprouted from his hair or the fact that it was a little longer and smoother looked up from playing with his stuffed white bear to blink at him "Him…? The one with the eyebrows?"

Alfred nodded.

"That's Arthur…" he said, his voice coming out in a soft whisper "He's the year above you I think…" Matthew glanced over at him "No one really knows much about him; he doesn't talk to anyone, ever…"

Alfred cocked his head to the side, in thought.

"We gotta go back for dinner, Al…" the younger brother said, his voice still quiet and gentle.

"Tell mom I'll be a little late back. She'll understand." He shooed the boy away, taking a few steps toward Arthur, ignoring his brother's protests that 'the bullies might come after him again', before he finally left the park himself.

Alfred made his way over quietly toward the blonde, a little hesitant. It was just the two of them here now. The sun was starting to set on the horizon, causing shadows of trees and other playground apparatus to lengthen along the ground.

"Uh…"

The boy named Arthur turned to look at him, the glare that he always saved for Alfred across his features. He didn't say anything though.

Alfred stared, trying to work out what to do or say next. It didn't help matters that no one knew anything about the boy, so he couldn't strike up some form of conversation that he would find interesting. So he went with introducing himself "I'm Alfred."

The other child blinked, but the glare remained. "And?"

Alfred paused. "Hi."

Arthur raised a massive eyebrow at this response. The American's attention was drawn to them after that. He stared at the dark strips of thick of hair above his eyes.

The blonde boy growled "Stop staring at my eyebrows, git!"

Alfred's eyes snapped back to look into his "Sorry, but…they're huge!"

He fumed, covering them both up with his small hands, flushing with embarrassment and anger "Go away!"

The American boy blinked "You have a funny accent."

"Go AWAY!" he yelled, turning on the spot and stomping off.

"Hey, wait!" Alfred ran in front of him to stop him in his tracks "I'm sorry, let me start over…"

The English boy folded his arms. "Have you come here just to be mean to me or did you want something?"

"I said I was sorry!" he cried, exasperated "You should be glad someone's talking to you for once! You never play with anyone!"

Arthur clenched his fists, looking less angry and more upset now "Just leave me alone!"

Alfred thought for a moment, ignoring the boy's demands "You're always here after everyone else has gone…why is that?"

The child glared at him again "Why do you care?"

"I just wanna know. Is it such a bad question?"

A small silence as Arthur considered if he should answer or not. He seemed genuinely interested, but in the space of the last thirty seconds the American boy had insulted his looks and the way that he spoke. Why should he let that horrible kid in on his secrets? But that boy was right in saying how no one else ever spoke to him or even made an attempt to acknowledge him.

Finally he said "I don't like going home."

Alfred cocked his head to the side slightly, curiously at this answer "Why not?"

The English boy hesitated once more, before saying quietly "My brothers…" he turned to Alfred "I have four…three older and one younger…I don't see them during school much, just when I head home. So I try to stay away from my house as long as I can."

"Why don't you like your brothers?"

"They're horrible to me." Arthur turned from him "They beat me up and call me names all the time…" He shook it off and turned back "Okay? Will you get lost now?"

Alfred gave a small, sad sigh. He was the oldest brother in his family, and he only had one to contend with. Matthew and he had their rows, as brothers do, but to have four other brothers, especially three that were older than he victimise him constantly must have been unbearable. He suddenly felt bad for making fun of the kid. He reached forward to put a hand on his shoulder, as comfortingly as he could.

Arthur started slightly, staring at the hand on his shoulder, and then turning to look at the child in front of him. Despite being older than him by at least a year or two, the blue eyed boy was taller. That was another aspect he was mocked for by his brothers: his stature. He suddenly felt anger wash over him, almost envy at the ability to be so tall at such a young age.

"No. I wanna play with you, Arthur."

He blinked a couple of times. "You…what?"

"I wanna play with you!" He tugged on the older boy's arm "Come on! We have the whole park to ourselves!" Alfred rushed over to the swing set, propelling himself forward and high up from the speed and force at which he leapt at it.

Arthur blinked again, unsure what to do.

"Betcha' can't swing higher than I can, Arthur!"

A challenge? Forgetting his hesitancy he made his way over to the swing set and jumped on.

The two boys called to each other as they swung, Alfred yelling how he knew how he could beat Arthur at this. Arthur forced himself to swing with all his might, determined to defeat the other.

After a minute or two, Alfred gave one final cat call before jumping off the swing and landing, albeit a little clumsily, but he recovered by striking a "heroic" pose. "Beat that!"

Arthur frowned in concentration, and after reaching the highest point of his swing, let go of the ropes. Unfortunately, he had misjudged just how high and far he'd be rocketing off, and the angle which he was at would have resulted in a form of casualty if Alfred hadn't been there to catch him.

The American fell to the ground from the sudden impact, and, dazed, rose up slightly, Arthur on top of him.

"Oh, bloody hell!" Arthur cried, climbing off him quickly, looking very concerned "Are you alright?"

Alfred chuckled "Yeah, I'm good…ah…" he rubbed the small of his back slightly, having landed badly on it "I will be."

The blonde messy haired boy looked upset, though. "You got hurt…it's my fault!"

The American waved his hand, dismissing this fact. "I'll live. But…you could have really hurt yourself if I hadn't been around!"

Arthur wrung his hands slightly, a slight pink tinge in his cheeks as he said "…thank you, Alfred…"

He grinned "Don't sweat it!" He slowly got back up, trying to ignore the slight stinging sensation that had arisen from where he had landed. He turned to walk over to something else to play with, when he heard Arthur cry out.

"You're bleeding!"

He craned his neck around and bent slightly, trying to see the spot where it stung "Oh...yeah. Oh well, just a scratch."

Arthur shook his head furiously "That looks really bad!" He grabbed the taller boy's hand and pulled him toward the exit gate "Come on, I'll fix it up for you."

'You don't have to!"

Arthur walked over to a tree, underneath which held a small hole. He reached in and pulled out what looked like a small green rucksack. Unzipping that and rummaging around in there for a second or two, he pulled out what looked like a first aid kit.

Alfred cocked an eyebrow.

The English boy blushed "Mummy makes me carry it around all the time. Just in case…something like this happens, I guess."

He gave a small nod.

"Turn around."

Alfred obliged, feeling the smaller boy pull up his shirt slightly. He then felt an even more painful sting against his skin as the other applied something on to the cut "Ah! That hurts!"

"It will help it!" Arthur stated, frowning at the blue eyed boy's behaviour. Honestly, antiseptic wasn't that agonising. Besides, he knew, from experience that he was doing the right thing applying it sooner than later. His mother had to heal her son up a lot after getting into fights with his brothers.

He hissed in pain, feeling Arthur applying a large bandage on top of it. He reached around to poke at the newly applied plaster, only to have his hand slapped at by the older boy. "Hey!"

"Don't touch it, idiot." He said, frowning. "And don't you dare take that off until you're sure it's okay to!"

He was trying to be sweet in his way. Arthur wasn't used to being genuinely nice to anyone, since he himself hadn't been shown all that much kindness from his siblings and peers. Still, it didn't make that slap hurt any less. Alfred pouted, folding his arms in an accurate impersonation of the other blonde boy.

The American turned toward the horizon, realising with a start that the sun was almost down, and the street lights were switching themselves on. "Oh! I better get back home! Mom will kill me if I'm not back soon."

Arthur could feel a slight twinge in the pit of his stomach as he said this. "…you're leaving?"

Alfred nodded "Yeah. I gotta." He looked up at him "But I'll see you soon, okay? After school?"

"…that's not until next week…"

The American thought "hm…well…why don't we meet up tomorrow? Same time as today? We'd have the whole park to ourselves again!"

Arthur nodded "…yes. Okay…"

A grin "Sounds good to me!" He patted the English boy on the back "I'll see ya then! Don't forget, okay?"

"You too!" Arthur called as Alfred ran off back home.

The messy blonde haired boy stared down at the ground for a few moments. Had...he made a friend? A real friend? Sure, the boy named Alfred seemed arrogant and wasn't the brightest crayon in the box judging on what he had heard about his school grades but…he seemed genuinely nice, and he'd been nice enough to Arthur that evening. He couldn't help but smile as he watched him go, and he kept his eyes straight ahead in his direction until he was out of sight, and then, finally, turned off for home himself.

"There you are, Alfred!" Matthew cried, as his older brother rushed into his house, remembering at the last minute to take off his muddy shoes at the front door. "I was worried…"

"Cool it, Matt, I'm fine!" he replied, grinning, slightly out of breath from running back all the way home.

"How did it go with that Arthur kid…?"

Alfred gave a small chuckle and said "I don't think I've ever met a guy with bigger eyebrows or a worse temper!"

Matthew frowned "Not well then, huh?"

"…I never said that Matt." He smiled.