Author's Note: We haven't heard from America in a while. I have plans for him and Florence later, but I don't know when they will occur this season. I can see how it will play out. I just need the when. I'm am debating on whether to do Yao and Ju or Kiku next week. The order is going back and forth in my head. I will know when next Sunday comes around. Oh and next week, Red Bones, my seventh -Man fic in the Fallen City series will premiere. Stick around for that.

Match Ten: Dragon Tree:

Every time Alfred saw Florence she looked like she was slowly wasting away. When did she lose that much weight?

"Has she been eating, dude?" he asked as they all sat in the den.

"I feed her, but she won't eat," Lydia whispered back. "She always says that she isn't hungry." Florence looked half-asleep on the couch. Her color had been drained of any color. It felt jarring to see her like this in summer.

Alfred stood up.

"That's it," he said. "We're going outside." Lydia turned her head with a confused look on her face.

"She's too sick to go anywhere," she complained.

"We're not going anywhere," Alfred said. "We're just going outside into the back yard."

"Why?" Lydia asked.

"Better than staying in here, isn't it?" he asked.

"Huh?" she asked. The American man leaned in close and broke into a huge grin.

The three of them ended up in the back yard. Florence sat in a lounge chair in the sun. She reminds Alfred of a wilting flower.

"She needs a hat," he said. Lydia wrinkled her nose.

"What?" Alfred asked. She snorted and rolled her eyes.

"Haven't you done enough?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" he asked. Lydia sighed and rubbed her forehead.

"What's the point?" she asked. "My sister's going to be dead soon anyway. It's not like you're even that close anyway."

"Well, I am trying to be," he said.

"But why?"

"I've quite fallen for her over our times together." He noticed Lydia's face when she wrinkled nose.

"What?" he asked.

"You for real?" she asked.

"Yes," Alfred said, nodding.

"Whatever," Lydia muttered. The American man looked around the big yard. He spotted the garden over in the distance. Alfred raised his eyebrow at how green and beautiful it looked.

"You've been taking care of the garden?" he asked.

"Yeah," Lydia said, looking down at the ground. "It wouldn't feel right to let it die out like that." Alfred got up and walked over to the fenced off garden. So many plants stuck up from the ground. He could see little white flowers in bloom on some of them.

"Wow, man," he said. "These look great. What all are you growing?"

"This and that," she replied. Lydia stood up and walked over to the garden.

"You did this yourself?" Alfred asked. "Dude."

"I had to," she said.

"Oh, of course. Um… Can I help out sometime?"

"Sure."

The American man lifted his head. "You serious?"

"Might as well. You come around here anyway."

"Nice."

"Whatever."

Alfred glanced over at Florence sitting in the sun. She looked like she was taking a nap at the moment. He couldn't remember a time where she was fully awake over the past couple of weeks. The American man almost envied how peaceful she looked. He thought that she was smiling at one point.

He had no idea what drove him to say the next thing.

"Do you believe in past lives?" Alfred asked. Lydia turned her head with a confused look on her face.

"Huh?" she asked. The American man froze.

"What?" he asked.

"What are you talking about?" Lydia asked. Alfred stood blinking as he seemed to blank out.

"I… I don't know," he said. The young girl tilted her head.

"Are you feeling okay?" she asked.

"No…" he said. Alfred turned and walked into the house.

"Alfred?" Lydia asked. The glass door closed behind him.

-1991-

He's been here before.

The teenage boy sat on the floor of the stall, crying. He couldn't take this anymore. How many times had he been down this path? He tried to pull himself out of it, but that old trick wasn't working anymore. He shut his eyes as more tears filled them.

Class would be starting now. He guessed that he would have to say that he was sick again to hide in the nurse's office. Even she looks at him in pity. His stomach became knotted up once again. He wished that he could break this cycle. How did this get to this point?

Last night, he spent all night crying and talking to her on the phone.

"I don't know how much more I can take of this," he whimpered. More tears welled up in his eyes.

"Shhh," she said over the phone. "You know I am here for you." He wiped his nose.

"It just gets so hard every day."

"I know." How could she stand to say with him all of this time? She had been by his side since they were little kids. She listened to him cry and wail over the phone every night. He cried on her shoulder throughout high school. She had been the one to pull him out of his darkest. He didn't know how she did it.

But, every person has their limits. He pushed hers the night that she came over to his house days before his death. He could never forgive himself for breaking her like that. Her only sin was she was trying to save him from himself. She could've just walked away. But she didn't. He almost asked her why at one point. She gave him a sympathetic smile. He couldn't see her gestures of love nor could he understand them.

She had a boyfriend at the time. The boyfriend was the start of how things fell out into despair. He never liked the suffering boy. He thought that he was using his girlfriend. The boyfriend tried to break up the friends. She wouldn't take it.

"He is my friend!" she said. "I just can't leave him."

"Why do you care so much about that weirdo?" her boyfriend asked.

"Don't call him a weirdo!"

"But he is a weirdo!"

"Well, he's my weirdo!" He always became the subject of their arguments. By senior year, things got worse. She broke up with her boyfriend days before graduation. She had been worn down by the time she reached her dear friend's house. Why didn't he turn her away? In their misery, they made things worse. When she came over, he was quite surprised.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. She leaned against his chest, crying.

"What happened?" he asked. "What did [name] do now?" She just looked up and kissed him. He should've pushed her off. They were lost in their moment of need. Because of this, they ended up in his room. Because of that, everything came crashing down.

He would take this regret to his grave.

-Reality-

Alfred stood in Florence's room, rubbing his forehead. What was this? The room felt like it was spinning. What did he come up here for? The last thing he could remember was standing around in the back yard looking at the garden. Alfred closed his eyes and tried to think.

Why am I up here?

The American man walked over to the back window. Florence and Lydia were still standing outside. They were probably wondering where he went off to. Alfred took in a deep breath.

"Right," he said. He needed an excuse to be in Florence's room. Alfred started looking around. He did think that she needed a hat. Now where would a hat be in a bedroom like this? The American man walked over to the closet. After about two or three minutes, he found a cute straw hat with a red ribbon around it.

"Perfect," the American man said. Alfred closed the closet and walked out of the room.

Lydia looked up when she heard the glass door opening. Alfred stood in the doorway, smiling.

"Yo," he said. The younger woman narrowed her eyes.

"What took you so long?" she asked.

"I went to the bathroom and looked for a hat for Florence," he said. Lydia tilted her head.

"Why?" she asked.

"I just thought she would want something to keep her cool while we're out here," he said. Alfred walked over to Florence in the chair and put the hat on her head. The tree woman looked up at him. He smiled and waved at her.

"Yo!" Alfred said.

"Alfred," Florence said. Her tired smile reminded him of that girl he kept saying in those strange flashbacks. He couldn't exactly trace why…