Standing in front of a door way too familiar to him, Arthur fished the old key out of his pocket. Unlocking the door, he gently pushed it open and entered the apartment—his apartment.

Since he 'left' in a hurry, he never got to sell or pass the apartment to anyone. So it sat here, still and undisturbed for almost three years now. Apparently, three years was more than enough time for the air to turn suffocating stale and for the furniture to collect a thick coat of dust.

Since no one's been paying for the bills, the electricity and water's long gone, explaining the stench coming from the kitchen. Arthur decided that no matter what he does, he's not opening the fridge. Instead, he moved to the windows and opened them, immediately inviting fresh air into the stale room.

Night had already fallen and the moon perched in the dark clouds, providing the world with a fair share of light. Before Arthur could notice it, he was already staring up at the moon, dazed. The moon looked ever so peaceful and quiet, unlike the 'exciting' day he had just lived through.

He sighed and leaned against the window pane, breathing in the cool night air in hope that it would snap him from the daze. The air was apparently not cool enough. So he stayed there, both psychically and emotionally drained to do anything else.

There was, in fact, a lot to do. Arthur grabbed a chair and sat in front of the window, facing the moon with his eyes closed as he thought of how things would be like after the so called miracle.

After three days, Alfred would probably wake up feeling better than ever. He wouldn't feel any pain or discomfort, and might even be interviewed and thanked for what he had done. Everyone loves a hero who sacrificed himself to save a little boy.

Arthur smiled to himself as he thought of Alfred grinning. The guy's always wanted to be a hero, and now he was one. The doctors would probably be amazed at how he managed to survive a crash that serious. Man, Alfred's going to be so proud of himself after that.

Knowing him, Arthur's sure that Alfred will start bragging about it to everyone he knew. Then he would visit Alfred in the hospital with all his favorite food. The git's going to be so happy and excited, only to be stopped by his doctor and told to stick to light food for now. Then he'll just eat the food in front of that idiot, then laugh at the expressions he would make. Knowing himself, Arthur knew that he would give in to Alfred's puppy face sooner or later, and feeling guilty, he'll secretly pass Alfred a burger or two…

Oh wait.

How could he forget? He won't be there with Alfred after the three days… not anymore…


Arthur woke up the next morning, still on the chair and facing the window. His face was almost numb after one night of tears and cold breeze. Standing up for a good stretch, he patted his face awake and dragged himself to his bedroom.

There won't be breakfast since all he could find in the fridge would be fungi, and there won't be a need for any meal either. He hardly had the appetite to eat anything anyway.

Once he was in his bedroom, he ignored the dust and simply dumped himself on the bed, sending dust flying in the air. Turning his head to the left, he found himself staring at a photo on the bedside table. The photo stood in a brown wooden frame, also covered in a layer of dust. But the two figures in the photo could be still seen. The taller of the two had his arm around the other's shoulder as the two smiled at the camera. Behind them, was the Eifel Tower.

Arthur sat up on the bed and took the photo frame in his hand. Wiping the layer of dust away, he stared at the photo as his mind raced to remember when this was taken. The moment he remembered it, however, he started smiling to himself.

How could he ever forget their trip to France? It was probably the funniest trip he's ever had.

Personally, Arthur didn't quite fancy France. As for the reason to that, he blames a certain Frenchman he used to know. But when Alfred bought tickets there as a birthday present for him, Arthur knew that he couldn't say no. So the two packed their bags and arrived at Paris the next day.

The food there was good, he had to admit. And for a country known for being romantic and whatnot, he wasn't surprised by the number of people selling roses by the streets. But he was surprised when Alfred bought a single stalk of rose from every flower seller they passed by, then almost forcefully stuffed them in his hands.

By the end of the day, he had to carry a large bouquet or red roses into the hotel, and to be honest, Arthur was sure that his face was as red as the roses when they walked to the lobby. God the amount of people staring at them with a knowing smile was just scary. Alfred, on the other hand, seemed pretty proud of his doings.

… And then there was the part where Alfred decided that they should have a candlelight dinner and almost set the whole room on fire…

Hugging the photo close to him, Arthur found himself feeling a little better compared to yesterday. The countless memories shared between him and Alfred; be it funny or serious, happy or sad, those were things that made them special. Those were the memories that only they share. So even if he would no longer be with Alfred, the memories of them will be with him, accompanying him.

With that in mind, Arthur gently placed the photo on the bed before jumping off it. He bent down and looked under his bed, pulling two large card boxes out. Opening the boxes and coughing to the dust in the air, he revealed two boxes filled with photo albums and journals, all of which recorded their past memories in one way or another. Taking a deep breath to prepare himself, Arthur picked a random album out and started flipping through it.

Since Alfred's lost the past memories of them, the least he could do was share them with him again. And if fate would allow it, these memories would still mean something to him.