title: Alfred by the Stars

author: musiclover3

author's note: Um, I read a PruHun fic last night that was tragedy/romance, and then I listened to the song Everything's Alright from the To the Moon soundtrack, and then I read another tragedy fic starring England and America, and it's been raining for three days straight, and I kind of just got in the mood to write tragedy and everything just kind of messed with my mind-

ratings/warnings: T for Character Death. Obviously.

dedication: To Gone-san

playlist: Everything's Alright by Laura Shigihara. Listen to it when you read this. Just... do it. The lyrics at the beginning and the end are from the chorus of this song.

summary: "Hey, Arthur, if you're listening to this, then that means I'm dead."

until the stars all fall down

they empty from the sky-

I'm not sure how to start this off.

I was thinking about writing you a letter, but then I realized that that would be really cowardly and stiff and totally unheroic of me, and, honestly, I'd probably just start writing, hate what I've written down, and then throw it away and write another one. You know how indecisive I am.

So, I decided to do this recording instead- that way, I can ramble on and on without having to start over because I've said something stupid, because, hey, you're already pretty used to that.

So. Here goes.

By the time you finally get to listening to this, it might be years from now, maybe even less than that- although, I surely hope that that's not the case. I told Mattie that, if anything were to happen to me, to give this to you right away. He kind of looked at me with this 'Are you kidding me?' kind of face, but he agreed anyway, 'cause he's a pretty cool guy once you finally get around to noticing him.

You're my best friend, you know that, Artie? I know you've always hated that name, but you can't exactly do anything about it now, can you?

Sorry- morbid humor. I'll stop now.

The day's currently Tuesday, the date being the eighteenth and the month being May. I'd tell you the year, but I think that'd be a little too nostalgic, depending on what year it is at the time you're listening to this.

Besides, it's not like it really matters anymore.

Oh, and it's Alfred talking by the way- Alfred F. Jones, if you didn't get that earlier.

Just to clarify.

Hey, Arthur, remember the first time we met?

It was a while back, when we were about five, probably. First day of kindergarten, and you were already the grumpy, anti-social loner you are today. (And I can say that stuff now, because I'm not there for you to hit me.) I'd like to think that, whatever age you are now, whatever year it is in the future, you got a little happier and a lot less grumpier. (And I like to think that you finally got yourself a girlfriend. Wish I could have been there to meet her.)

You were sitting in the corner, drawing something with your chubby little fingers because, let's admit it, Artie, you were pretty freaking chubby back then. You were pretty focused on it, if I remember corrrectly, and you didn't even look up when I approached you. I tried to get your attention, like, a hundred times, and you still didn't look up. I'm pretty sure you were just ignoring me, but I like to give people the benefit of the doubt- even you, Artie.

After a while, I guess you just got a little ticked off at me, because you finally decided to acknowledge my heroic existance. I'm pretty sure the first words you said to me were, 'What do you want, you stupid git?' Even at five-years-old you had a bad mouth.

But, hey, I'm not judging.

You were drawing fairies, and I remember grinning and asking you, 'what kind of girl, are you?' You spluttered and turned red and pretty much yelled and threw your box of crayons at me.

I knew, right then and there, that we were going to be best friends.

You hated me at first. I could tell by the scowls and the name calling that it was true. (Not that you acted any different when you actually decided to acknowledge our friendship.) After a while, I guess you warmed up to me. Either that, or you just realized that there was no getting through to my thick skull, and I was going to stick with you no matter what.

It was probably the latter.

Back then, whenever I heard your accent, it would take all my willpower to stop myself from snickering or making fun of it. It was prissy and stuffy and all around different from mine, and I know you're probably scowling at me right now, but it's true. It's like how you feel when you hear a French accent, only with less hatred and more amusement.

Do you get along better with Francis now, by the way? I'd like to think that you guys at least hate each other a little less. I know that you're British and he's French and you're supposed to hate each other and all, but, really, you don't need to fit in with the stereotype. You're already stereotypical enough as it is.

But, hey, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe you always just had this strange jealousy towards him. (I wouldn't be surprised. The guy does have great hair.) Maybe that's why you acted the way you did towards him.

Or, you know, maybe you just really did hate the guy's guts. At least try to be nicer to him now, will you? I can tell he doesn't hate you, even if you might not feel the same way.

Now, where was I? Oh, yeah, the first day we met.

I'll never forget it. I hope you don't either.

Remember the first time I got glasses?

I know it might not seem like a very important memory, but I'll never forget the day I came to school with them for the first time. I was a lot younger then, about seven, probably, and I hated them. They were awkward and lame and just plain nerdy- kind of like you. (I'm trying to lighten the mood here. That's your cue to laugh.) I remember the other kids laughing and making fun of me, but, of course, being the hero I am, I didn't say anything and just kept on walking.

You know what you did?

You glared. You scowled. You looked like you wanted to kick their- ahem- butts. Behinds. Backsides. I know how much you hate it when I swear, even though you do enough of it yourself. I guess the insults towards me kind of just pushed you over the edge, because, after a whole morning of hearing them, you turned around, gave them your best prissy 'I'm so much better than you' look, and stuck your middle finger out at them.

Seven-years-old, and that's what you did. (And it was darn hilarious.)

Your brothers were bad influences on you, obviously. Are they still like that now? I wouldn't be surprised. It didn't seem like they were going to change their ways any time soon.

Of course, you got in trouble for it. Sent off to the principal and forced to call your brothers and tell them what you did.

They were more proud than angry, but I don't think that helped your mood much, did it?

I guess I remember this because it was one of the first times you actually did something nice for me. We didn't really talk about it afterwards, seeing as you were pretty much ready to incinerate anyone that dared try to talk to you about it, and I was pretty much just worshipping the ground you walked on. But I remember it, Artie. Do you?

It's that one little blemish on your record. You pride yourself on being a gentleman, and, honestly, you're the most bad-mouthed gentleman I've ever met. But, you know what? I think you're one anyway.

Gentlemen are kind of like heroes- they don't let anyone get away with hurting their friends.

After that day, we hung out more. We'd either go over to your house or mine, and we'd do anything we could think of together- video games, play outside, etc. We were kind of inseparable back then- just the two of us- Arthur and Afred, Alfred and Arthur. The Gentleman and the Hero. We were unstoppable.

You know, until I had to move away.

Mom got a new job opportunity somewhere far, far away, and Mattie and I had to leave with her. I was all depressed and gloomy for the whole week after I had found out. Mattie said that I had this cloud of absolute doom over my head, but how else do you react when you find out that you had to move away from your best friend?

Ugh. I'm being sappy again. I know you hate it when I do that, and I really hate it when you do that too. I guess we both just can't help ourselves, huh?

After a while, you kind of got sick of watching me laze off and acting like it was the end of the world, so you stormed up to me and demanded to know what 'the bloody heck' was wrong with me.

You've always been blunt like that. I guess that's another reason why I liked you so much.

After a lot of depressed mumblings, I told you.

You were surprised, obviously, but not really that upset. If you were, you certainly didn't show it.

I took that the wrong way.

I was hurt. I was stupid. I was a kid.

So, I walked away.

We didn't talk to each other for the remainer of my stay.

That hurt me a lot, you know that, Artie? I'm not saying it's your fault, because, obviously, it wasn't. If anything, it was mine.

I had forgotten that you were Arthur Kirkland. You were the anti-social loser- pardon my insult- who had never had a best friend before. You didn't know how to deal with any of this stuff, and you had never been one to show your real emotions anyway. (And don't try to deny it, Arthur. We both know it's true.)

I've had a lot of friends, Arthur, but you've always been my best.

We didn't see each other until the day we started our second year of high school.

That wasn't that long ago, really. I won't name years, but...

I still remember it the clearest.

My mom's job had been transferred back to our old hometown, so, obviously, Mattie and I were excited. Going back home? Going back to all of our old friends? Heck yeah! It was a dream come true.

I was most excited to come back to you though.

I didn't get to tell you about it though, because we'd lost contact with each other the moment I walked away. (And, I know you must be cursing my name for bringing all of this stuff up, because you remember it and you were there so there's no reason at all for me to bring this stuff up.)

But there is. Just wait for it. I know you're not the most patient guy, but hear me out.

Like I said before, I was excited to be back. After a while though, I realized that there was a slight problem.

I didn't even know if you were still there.

(But I didn't let that get me down for too long, because I was the HERO after all, and what kind of hero loses hope?)

We met again at the high school's planetarium.

I didn't even know our town had a planetarium, much less one in the school. (But, you know I've never been really informed on anything like that.) I had gotten a text from my old buddy Kiku to meet him there. You remember Kiku, right? Kiku Honda? Awesome Japanese guy with the manga obsession and the cool last name like the car. He was always a polite guy, real nice- I hope he's still like that. You were friends with him too, right? That's why you were with him at the planetarium that day.

I hadn't expected to see you there, and you hadn't been expecting me either.

There were three things that happened.

From me, there was shock. I knew that there was a huge chance that you were attending this school too, but what were the odds we'd meet on the first day? I honestly wasn't sure whether to do a victory dance right on the spot, or bolt right out of there like I had that day five years ago.

From Kiku, there was awkwardness. He had been friends with me back during grade school, and, even though he hadn't really spoken to you much back then, he knew enough to know that we had been pretty close friends. So, obviously, he probably also knew that we weren't anymore, seeing as he had been friends with you, too, at the time, right?

And from you?

Horrified silence.

You didn't say anything. You didn't move. I wasn't sure if you were even breathing. You just stared at me with horror written all over your face. The word was practically painted across your forehead, and your face was the palest I'd ever seen it. (But your huge eyebrows were the same. It still looked like dead caterpillars had somehow been glued there in its place.)

You were older and taller, and your looks and voice might have changed a little, but you were still Artie. You were still the kid who I had found drawing fairies and hitting anyone who dared make fun of that fact; the same kid who told those bullies off like a boss and somehow still remained a gentleman through and through.

You were Arthur Kirkland. You were my best friend.

(And you still are, you know that?)

Back then, even in the silence of that planetarium, with the imaginary stars on the ceiling and the total awkwardness of the room, you were my best friend.

Just... thought you'd like to know.

Obviously, you weren't happy to see me. Me, being the hero I am, decided to take the initiative and greet you first. I had put on my best smile, stuck out my hand, and introduced myself, just like I had all those years ago.

You, of course, being the stubborn and infuriating tsundere you are, had shot me the fiercest glare you could muster under the circumstances, and had practically run me over going out the door.

(And it darn well hurt me, but I didn't show it, because what use would it be to do that?)

I guess you could say you were the reason I stopped by the planetarium everyday.

I had always claimed that I was there to see Kiku, because he was my friend just like he was yours, and you had to share him, dang it.

But, really, I was there for you, and I can admit that without being embarrassed now, because you can't see me.

And, I know that sounds awfully cowardly for a hero, but all heroes have their moments of weakness, right?

I think Kiku knew what was going on, because, every time I'd show up, he'd stiffen and mutter something under his breath and spazz out any time we'd start fighting.

But maybe that's just what all stereotypical Japanese teenagers did when they saw their friends fighting. Who knows?

But, one day, Kiku left us alone to go get more supplies for the planetarium. (And, yes, I know I'm making this dramatic; I do what I want. And, right there, I just stuck my tongue out at you. You couldn't see it, obviously, but that's what I just did.)

It was silent for the most part. Just the two of us, under the stars, awkwardly doing what we needed to do to keep this planetarium alive and going strong. (And that sounded like a freaking romantic movie. Sorry about that.)

You know, I've always hated awkward silences, and I was usually the one who broke them. This incident was no exception.

'So... How have you been, Artie?'

You have me a glare. As usual. 'Don't call me that.'

Maybe it seems strange, but I had actually felt a little better when you had said that. It was familiar, old, and something that you had said countless times before I had moved.

'Same old Arthur, eh?'

You had grumbled and turned away from me in response, busying yourself with something that didn't need your attention.

'You know,' I had stated casually, 'I've missed you.'

Your response was, again, a familiar one, consisting of you practically tripping over your own two feet and dropping all of the supplies in your hands onto the floor, spluttering and red faced. 'What?' you had said, sounding harsher than you probably had meant to sound.

'I've missed you,' I had repeated, slower this time. 'We haven't seen each other in what- five years? That's a long time to be away from your best friend.'

You had scowled, just like you had always done. 'Best friend? I don't see anyone here.'

Ouch.

Low blow there, Artie.

I maintained my cool though, and said, 'Aw, come on, Artie-'

'Don't call me that!'

'-five years hasn't really changed anything, has it?'

'You know very well that five years has changed everything, Alfred.'

I had just smiled, and asked if we could start over.

You were reluctant, obviously, but then said:

'You're buying me tea then.'

And, then, everything was alright again.

It took a while for us to get back to what we had before, because five years had changed a lot about us, and it was a lot awkwarder than it had been than when we were five or seven.

We both still had our differences. You liked tea and embroidering and still believed in fairies, (dude, really?) and I, on the other hand, liked hamburgers and football and coffee.

I have to admit, when I had heard that you were still the horrible cook you had been when we were younger, I was relieved, because at least that hadn't changed.

(You're scowling now, right? You know your cooking sucks, Artie.)

We both had one thing in common though.

The stars.

We both liked looking at them. Even though I had never really ever taken an interest in astronomy or anything like that, I still liked to look at the stars. We usually looked at them together in the planetarium, even though they were obviously fake. (But, hey, you take what you can get, right?) You knew almost all of the constellations, and I knew next to none.

You used to give me these long speeches about them, remember? Depending on my mood, I would either listen or totally ignore you, but I don't think you had ever really minded.

You looked happy enough just telling someone about them, so I never said anything.

You should smile more, Artie. It'll make you live longer.

After that, everything kind of went back to normal. It became a routine for us to meet there after school. None of the other kids really visited the planetarium besides Kiku occasionally, so we usually had the place all to ourselves. It was clear that you still had some issues with me, and I still wasn't as comfortable with you as I had been all those years ago. But, you know what, Artie? That was okay with me, because I had gotten my best friend back.

(Did I make you cry yet? I may sound like a jerk for asking, but I'd really like to know, because, I'll admit it, I did.)

Hey, Arthur, if you're listening to this, then that means I'm dead.

It's kind of obvious by now, huh? You've probably already went to the funeral and everything. You probably even got me flowers, even though I had specifically told you one day that I didn't want any, because, to me, that's more of a happy kind of thing to do. I don't like seeing people give flowers to the dead. It's like saying that they're happy that they died.

(I sure hope you're not happy I died, Artie, 'cause that would suck.)

I'm starting to sound like a downer, huh? Sorry about that. It's getting harder and harder to go on with this.

Do you mind telling the others some things for me?

Tell Mattie that he was- is the best brother a guy could have. He may have been quiet and shy, and maybe I didn't notice or pay attention to him as much as I should have, but... tell him I love him, alright? Tell him he was an awesome brother, and that I don't regret a single moment I ever spent with him. Tell him that he should have more confidence, because, when he starts talking more, he'll be golden, and no one will be able to resist him. And he makes the best pancakes in the world.

Tell my mom that she's awesome. She's the best mom in the world, and I'm not just saying that because she'd be upset if I said otherwise. Don't blame yourself for this, alright, Mom? You raised me, you took care of me, you dealt with me even when you didn't want to, and, honestly, you're the best. I love you, really, and I hope you and Mattie are happy even now that I'm gone. I sure hope I died a heroic death, because, then, maybe it would hurt less for you guys. Stay golden, okay, Mom? I'll always be your hero.

Tell Kiku that he was a great friend while it lasted. He may have been quiet and shy and a little too polite for his own good, but he was awesome nonetheless. I remember when we used to go to anime conventions together. We'd dress up like our favorite characters and ship random ones together so hard it could be considered canon. We used to play video games all night, and, sometimes, I'd be able to convince you to do some stupid stunt with me, like spray paint some random house black or run through the sprinklers in some stranger's yard. You would deal with me when no one else would, and listen to me ramble on and on about stuff that didn't really matter to anyone but myself. I was lucky to have you as a friend, Kiku. It was a blast while it lasted.

Hey, Arthur? This is for you.

It's been years since that day we first met, and I've never regretted a day spent with you. You might be grumpy and cranky and an overall jerk, but you're my best friend, so that's okay. Best friends can overlook all of those flaws, right?

When you look at the stars, Arthur, remember me.

Remember when we used to look up at them together- just you and me. Remember how we could talk for hours and hours about anything and everything, and still never get tired of it. We're total opposites, but I like to think that that's what makes our friendship perfect.

You're my one and only best friend, Arthur, and you always will be.

(And I sound like a total sap saying this stuff. Sorry about that. It seems like we're switching roles.)

Don't blame yourself for my death, alright? I, of course, don't know how I died, but...

Knowing you, you'll blame yourself for it, no matter what. Don't, okay? Don't do that. You're too good for that, and, no matter how it seems, you did nothing wrong. If anything, you did everything right.

You'll be sad for a while, of course, but, eventually, you'll move on. You'll move on to greater things, be anything you want to be. You're a smart guy, Artie, you'll manage without me. I was kind of holding you back after all.

I liked hanging out with you though, even if you didn't exactly seem to enjoy my company. I'll never regret meeting you.

Hey, Arthur? You're kind of my hero.

(I'm not lying. I know that's what you're thinking, but I'm not.)

You might be prissy and infuriating and grumpy, but you're still awesome through all of that, and I want you to know that. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, all right? If they do, just kick their- ahem- butts. Behinds. Backsides. You know what I mean.

Keep smiling, alright? I know it rains a lot over there in your home city of London, but smile through it. One day, you'll find a new best friend, one that doesn't tick you off every five minutes and calls you annoying nicknames. (But I know you secretly liked them, jerk.) And, one day, you'll find the girl of your dreams. I like to think that she'll be the total opposite of you, with a sunny smile and a nice attitude. You'll have a dozen kids and grandkids and live in some happy country in Europe- Norway, maybe. Or maybe you'll even marry a French girl- who knows? If I know you well enough, you'll probably insist on moving back to London. Even though it rains all the time, you'll be able to smile through it with your girl, because she's the reason for your smile. Your children will look just like you, (hopefully without the eyebrows) and you'll show them pictures of us, smiling and laughing, pointing at me and telling them that that's your best friend in the whole wide world. And you'll be able to do it with a smile on your face and without that ache in your heart, because those are happy memories, dang it, so smile, alright?

I hope that I live long enough to meet them. I'd like to be an uncle.

Hey, Arthur? I was diagnosed with an irregular heartbeat a while back.

I won't say when, because that will probably just make you even more upset, right? I never told you, because, obviously, I didn't want you to worry. I wanted you to be happy and smiling for just a little while longer.

I guess it was just irregular for a guy like me to love you so much. My heart just couldn't handle it. (We'll be best friends forever, alright?)

You don't need to worry about me now.

Just know I'm watching you, alright? Always. I may sound like a stalker, but it's true. I'll always be there for you, Artie, even when it seems like I'm not.

We're best friends. Always.

So...

Live a happy life for me.

fin.

-but I don't mind

if you're with me

then everything's alright