Hiya, Hikou no Kokoro back again! I just ploughed right through my Writer's Block, and I hope that nothing has suffered because of it. So anyway, I bring you another Theory chapter, where everything is excruciatingly subtle. Things have mellowed out for a bit, until we reach the first Reason chapter. I can't wait to bring that about.

Well, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Axis Powers: Hetalia. It rightfully belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. I just own the AU plot.

To Create Perfection

"Things do not change; we change."
—Henry David Thoreau

"Theory 3: Without Worries"

I liked Francis. I really did. Nobody understood why, and nobody could explain Francis either. He was a paper sort of guy; he wasn't fond of those electronic tablets that everybody else used. Yes, he caused some troubles. He didn't get the messages as quickly as everybody else. Paper and ink were stuck through the Land Control Facility more than they normally did anywhere else in the World Domain. But he would disregard the inconveniences. "It's better for the eyes," he would say. "Everything seems more tangible on paper," he would say. And then he would leave it at that. But the truth was that he was afraid. Nobody knew why, but everybody disregarded it. Maybe that was why I liked Francis so much. He turned out better than that irritable "gentleman" Arthur Kirkland. Francis liked to stick paper in recycling facilities and took whatever was given to him without altering a word on the page. Maybe Arthur should have learnt a thing or two from him.

Francis had been sitting at his desk, again doing paperwork on papers rather than a screen. All the reports he had been receiving weren't the best. The borders were constantly on high alert as enemy attacks were frequent, and a few sectors of the western branches were closed off due to damage and bluffs. But of course, he was confident in the safety of the majority. Gilbert Beilschmidt was no fool, and he easily took care of security without blinking. I have seen the stresses the war had put on, and I have seen how Gilbert worked—I was quite jealous.

But that was not part of Francis' problems. His real problems lied with Arthur. His head hurt, and bandages were wrapped around his forehead and underneath his blond hair. Sure, his doctor told him that it wasn't as bad as a concussion and there was only a bit of blood and that he shouldn't worry too much. But he couldn't help himself from thinking that it wasn't the case, and in his confusion he had said something foolish, causing Arthur to blow up verbally. And that would explain why two papers from Kiku and Sadık reported that Arthur had asked to switch to their instructions. The idea was frustrating to Francis.

It had been around this time that Arthur knocked the door. Of course, he waited for Francis to say come in, as dictated by common courtesy. But when Francis did, Arthur stormed in. Well, I thought he stomped right in; his boots clanged against the floor. Arthur had told me otherwise, and Francis seemed to be unfazed looking up from his papers.

"Welcome back," Francis had greeted as he set down his pen. He smiled up to Arthur when he approached with a folded piece of paper in his hands. "Do you need anything?"

"Yes." Arthur was waving the little note in front of Francis. "I've received orders from Mr. Gilbert Beilschmidt to go to this address. He told me to bring you along." Arthur was scowling. And he was leaning on one side. I didn't like the tone he used.

Silence fell over them when Francis plucked the paper out of Arthur's fingers. Realisation hit as soon as Francis looked at the tiny words, and he folded up the note. He knew what Gilbert had been trying to do. The real address, converted from Gilbert's eccentric "code," was SS-24 Plot 3, a place that was a good hour drive from BCWD campus. Gilbert would go there once every year; it held a special spot in his heart and he would never let it go. It was depressing to see those words on that note. But Francis simply sighed and agreed. He told Arthur that he would bring them to the area the day after the next, since he needed to ask for a day off in order to pull a stunt as this.

Then Francis requested for Arthur's address. Arthur blew up upon the request, shouting a variety of false accusations. But Francis returned each one with a smile. He clasped his hands together as he looked up, waiting for Arthur to finish his argument, which mainly spoke of how Arthur could wait for Francis on BCWD campus. When Arthur was done, Francis said that it would be more convenient and mentioned that he could always look through the staff and intern files for the address; after all, he did have the access. But he much preferred Arthur to say it, since he didn't want to drop in unannounced. Secretly, though, Francis just wanted to visit Arthur's home and hoped to meet whoever Arthur's partner was. Nevertheless, Arthur grabbed back the folded note and scribbled down his address. Then he stomped off again without a single farewell.

The day afterward was another normal day. Arthur once again found himself under Francis' wing, and once again Francis simply dragged Arthur through a tour around campus and down the list of staff members. Nothing productive happened—anything Arthur deemed to be productive. He just met more people, and was forced to remember a million names of people whom he probably would never talk to in the long run. But the two did visit Alfred and Matthew. They continued to chat away, and Francis made another one of those red concoctions for Matthew, who remained silent and almost faded away several times during the visit. Alfred had talked about Antonio and Lovino, and how it was disappointing that they could not go to the cafeteria with them anymore. And then he complained about how last night the sounds of marching feet would pass by his door and he could hear shouts from some Russian patient and the barked orders of Sadık. Apparently neither Alfred nor Matthew had a good night's sleep then.

Afterwards, Arthur's work day had ended and he returned home to his brother, who was waiting impatiently with a bottle of bad whisky in his hand. Alistair snapped a few harsh words and then hobbled off to bed. Arthur forgot to tell Alistair that he was going off to SS the next day and then things turned sour.

But, throughout the whole time, Francis did not once mention Arthur's failed mission to find a new instructor. Yes, Francis had been extraordinarily offended, and he was tempted to bring the subject up a few times. But he didn't say anything and acted as if the verbal fight with Arthur had not occurred at all. That was why I had liked Francis. He didn't waste his time changing things that he didn't need to fix.