Soon the small flakes turned to large balls of white sticking to everything. Though we couldn't go out to play in it just yet it was everything on my mind, at least for a bit. It wasn't long before my mind was elsewhere, high in the Japanese mountains playing in a hot spring along with many snow monkeys as a voice described the history of the place to me. It was a soft angelic voice that had me captivated. "Normally we wouldn't get this close." The male voice said so warmly that I would have thought the man had done this countless times before. "But it's safe right now, so I say let's join them."

I felt a strong hand on my shoulder causing the illusion to vanish, leaving me craving more of the world I had just been in. "Peter?"

"Yes, Ma'am I was listening." I quickly said, my head snapping to attention. I knew if I was caught daydreaming yet again she would no doubt call my father.

There came a slight chuckle. "Then dear you should have noticed that recess had started unless of course you wanted to spend it in her with me." Her gentle green eyes sparkled warmly as she winked at me. "So?"

Before she could say another word, I had dashed out, grabbing my coat on the way. I didn't have to be told twice after all but, I did wonder who the owner of the voice was. Perhaps Alfred? Today I would laugh at the thought but, well who else would it had been? Again, my thoughts were interrupted, this time by a snow ball to the side of my head.

"Peter pay attention! We're under attack!" Daniel cried out as he dove towards me, knocking both of us into the snow. Just as I was about to raise my head two snow balls flew past, missing us by inches. It was war and I'd be damned it I let the older kids win.

Soon the war which we had fought so hard in, was over with the ring of the school bell. Each group claiming victory in the mass chaos before rushing back inside trailing a mass of mud and water as we went.

Again I found it was hard to concentrate on the work before me and again I found the voice in the back of my mind, telling me stories of far off lands. I vowed that I'd fine the man behind the voice no matter how long it would take me.

Little did I know, I would never get to meet the man behind the stories nor would I ever understand how I knew his voice in the first place. It was a voice some people remembered, and one a lucky few would never forget. One of those lucky was sitting alone in a bar reading over his work as his sandwich laid untouched.

"Figures I'd find you here."

My father barely looked up, instead managing a lone sigh. "Shouldn't you be at work?" He pretended to reread the reports in front of him as he watched the tall blonde man sit next to him.

Alfred ordered a beer along with a side of fries before answering. "Shouldn't you be two states over with that wife of yours?" His voice had a faint air of hatred and pain that neither wished they hear. "Or did you dump her too?"

It cut my father deep yet he barely blinked. "How is your mother?"

"How about you go fuck yourself?"

Only then did my father lay his work down, turning to the man beside him, a glint of anger in his eyes. "Excuse me?"

Alfred's cocky smile was gone as he let out a stutter. "Nothing, she's fine." He muttered into his beer averting his eyes. The younger man had been in many fights before and while he wanted nothing more than to instigate the older man further, Alfred wasn't stupid. He came for answers so getting into a fight, no matter how much better he would feel afterwards, would give him nothing in the end. "Dealing with Grandmother and shit."

"Mhm." My father answered turning back to his work as his hand lazily moved towards his own whiskey. After taking a sip it was time to fill the awkward silence that had grown between them. "He reads all of your articles."

"Does he know who I am?"

"Nope."

Alfred downed the rest of his beer before motioning for another. "I'm not surprised," he said picking up the drink. "Why bring up me after all?"

He didn't say another word as my father stood, collecting his things. Once he was finished he turned to the tall blonde. My father wanted to say so much to the man but when he opened his mouth, only a few words came out. "He's twelve." It stopped Alfred cold but before Alfred could say a word, my father placed a twenty down and walked out. "That's for your drinks as well…try not to get too drunk. It's not even five yet."

It wasn't until the door slammed shut that Alfred moved again. "Twelve…" He said to himself over and over again as if he couldn't comprehend what he was just told. "God damn it."

"Sir?"

"Nothing." Alfred answered as he stood to leave. "But does he come in often?"

The bartender shrugged as he picked up the untouched sandwich. "Every day like clockwork."

"Figures." Was all he said as he grabbed a hand full of his fries as Alfred too, walked out into the waning light.