Yo, Hikou no Kokoro here with the second part of Reason 2! This one is a short little thingy with almost filler-y events; nevertheless, it's pretty important for revealing Francis' and Jeanne's character, although everything is a bit subtle for this one. Well, I hope you enjoy!

Thank you very much for my reviewer, firelight3, for reviewing the last chapter! And thank you to Star Anise for favouriting this story as well! You guys are the reason why I keep writing!

Enjoy!

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

To Create Perfection

"When the solution is simple, God is answering."
—Albert Einstein

"Reason 2: Missing Miracles, Part 2"

Francis and Jeanne had a strange relationship. They did indeed get closer during the first year of secondary school—much closer than during primary school. They were friendly and enjoyed each other's company, doing everything that normal girls would do: gossiped, hung out, helped each other on homework, bothered other people, swooned over the pretty guys in school, complained about life, talked in French, and exchanged ideas developing minds would concoct. However, there was a bit of a love-hate feel to everything, particularly with Francis' side. He had a frequent habit of cowering behind Jeanne for protection, and time and time again Jeanne told him that he should be tougher or else enemies would continue to attack him. Francis didn't particularly like Jeanne's disposition to preach, and he often found her annoying.

Nevertheless, Francis enjoyed Jeanne's company. She was one of the few who truly supported him for no matter what he did. One day, Francis had decided to start drawing and making crafts. He never really had formal training in anything and no real prodigy-like talent, so he didn't get much attention. The fine arts were a frivolous hobby set only for the bored or the unfortunate souls who couldn't find a spot in science, and the World Domain looked condescendingly at artists and musicians doomed to poverty. Francis' parents would only smile and pat his head and his friends would merely glance and run off to do more important things. But Jeanne—Jeanne was different. When Francis drew a crude crayon drawing of the landscape, she stopped, blinked and peered down. Then she grinned, snatching the paper and proclaiming how cool it looked with its colourful hills, sky, and sun. She rambled on and on about how Francis' haphazard visual rhetoric could bring meaning. And she even accurately gave critiques about everything afterwards: "The grass looks flat. Maybe you should use different colours." "The sky's clouds look a bit sketchy… I don't think they're just bulbs, but I like how they parallel the hills!" "Why didn't you try drawing flowers? I want to see you draw flowers!" Jeanne was a bit of nuisance with how enthusiastic she was, and she liked to chase Francis around, demanding that he drew something for her. Francis loved her feedback though, and eventually, he found himself wasting time drawing and doodling at his leisure.

It was the same thing for acting, a hobby that Francis seemed to develop and love until his death. Unlike with his artistic ability, Francis was a phenomenal actor. His histrionic nature proved to be an advantage, but a hidden advantage. Nothing had been proven until Francis considered being a part of the Drama Club, which was more or less merely a recreational activity to sate children's curiosity. At first, he was reluctant. He had wanted to join, but he didn't know if he should, since he saw himself as timid and talentless. When he mentioned the subject offhandedly in front of Jeanne, though, the girl leapt out of her seat, arms stretched over her head, and declared that Francis should play the lead role in the upcoming play. Francis shook his head, eyes wide with fright. But he didn't hear the end of it; Jeanne bothered him until Francis signed up for a rehearsal. Francis didn't get a lead role, as Jeanne had hoped, but Francis joined nevertheless, and that was all that seemed to matter to the girl. From then, Francis was a part in every school play. He had gotten the lead role once in his whole high school career, but Jeanne was always there to help him out, keeping track of rehearsals and how Francis seemed to be faring on a near daily basis.

Eventually, Jeanne's words to him affected him. Slowly, Francis became what he was until death: A flamboyant man who could do anything. He gained confidence; he talked more often—eventually he grew enough to flirt with boys who interested him, even though he was rejected on a constant basis with only two or three took him up on his offer and dated him for about a week to a month. People started to know his name; they respected him for who he was. Of course, Jeanne had to initiate everything for him—from conversations to ideas—but at least Francis could start doing things.

Oftentimes though, he would wonder why he, of all people, would be deemed the subject of Jeanne's attention. Their personalities clashed—Jeanne was enthusiastic and opinionated whereas Francis was shy and spineless. Other people would look at them and wonder how two very different people were always spending so much time together. But Jeanne was a very strange girl.

One day, Francis had asked why she was always following him along. After all, he was nothing special, and Jeanne could easily find millions of other companions who were far more compatible. The girl looked absolutely repulsed.

"Why would I want to look for somebody else when I have you?"

Francis tried to clarify himself. He asked why she chose him, and what did she see in him.

"Because God told me to."

The subject was dropped immediately afterward. The answer was unsatisfactory—it was unreasonable, working off of what some sort of imaginary "supreme being" supposedly dictated. If she were to answer with that to any other question, she would have a firm scolding and lecture. But Francis didn't ask why. He never got a chance to.

After all, Jeanne was quite sensitive to the matter of God. But that was what other people said about her. Francis just saw her as a zealot. Whatever this "God" said, it was the law, indisputable. She was dedicated to something everybody else disregarded.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" Jeanne asked.

Francis thought for a moment, tapping his pencil against the desk and puffing his left cheek. "I don't know," he replied, shrugging. "Maybe somebody in the Humane Control department."

"Like your mum? Why?"

"I don't know. Because maybe I'll be good at it?" Francis shrugged again. His blue eyes glanced towards Jeanne, but the girl had draped torso over her desk and staring out the window, so they looked outside as well. "But what about you?" At first, he asked that to get the subject away from himself.

A large grin traced over Jeanne's face. "A priest. I want to be a priest."

Francis raised an eyebrow. "A priest? Why?"

"Why not?"

"You mean you want to be a nun, then?"

"Nuns are all stupid. I don't like nuns. They think funny and don't do anything except walk around and mutter things. No, I want to be a priest."

"But you're talking about Catholic priests, right? They're all guys."

"They had girl priests before. If they won't let me, then I'll pretend to be a guy."

"But don't you want to marry? I'd want to marry…"

Jeanne's response didn't come immediately. She glanced Francis up and down. "I do want to marry. So I'll marry first, and then become a priest. They had married priests before too."

"Okay…" Francis paused, fiddling with his thumbs. He looked at Jeanne again. Then a grin appeared on his face, lighting up his blue eyes and attracting Jeanne's attention from the window to him. "I know you'll be an awesome priest."

Jeanne looked shocked, her eyes widening and her jaw drooping and sucking in a slow stream of air. "Really?"

"No doubt about it. People are going to dance to the words you say."

Only then did Francis fully realise why Jeanne stayed with him, and that their friendship was a lot more mutual than he had suspected. With only a handful of words, Francis promised to support whatever dreams Jeanne had. That was the biggest gift he could ever give to Jeanne, even though he had promised only through implications and whim. Dreams were a funny thing in that they weren't always possible, and the road to the peak was harsh, holding pitfalls that could kill a man. It wasn't something somebody would be able to achieve on his or her own, and one mistake could knock anybody into the abysmal path of despair. And here was Jeanne, walking up towards a career nobody approved of and she could never receive. Francis would be right beside her, holding onto anything she needed. He would gain nothing—when Jeanne fell, he would fall just as hard; when Jeanne could get to the top, he would have to make the trek back down without her. In a way, Francis would only be there for the sake of it, with nothing to gain and everything to lose, yet he decided to go with Jeanne anyway. Thus was all Francis could do for a girl who gave him so much.

Then it was time to let go. It was the first time Francis had to raise a hand up and say good-bye, and it wasn't going to be the last time—he said many farewells to many things he loved during his lifetime. Luckily, the event wasn't as painful as the other times he would soon experience; nevertheless, it had hurt.

Francis and Jeanne were graduating from secondary school and going onto higher education. They were ending their childhoods together and parting ways. Francis managed to land himself in Eastern branch BCWD University whereas Jeanne ran away to a Theology major in France and Italy. People told them that high school friends would never be as close afterwards, and Francis fully believed the words, for the statement was supported by data. The idea had terrified Francis, and he was dreading the day when he got his diploma. During the graduation party, Francis got himself incredibly drunk. His adolescent alcohol intolerance got the better of him, and instead of enjoying the party, he spent hours clinging onto Jeanne and bawling. Not a coherent word left his mouth. Jeanne, in the end, had to drive the sad drunk back home, laughing and stroking Francis' hair.

On the day Jeanne was leaving the World Domain, the two best friends held hands. They promised to keep in touch through email or letters. Francis was tearful, but he gave Jeanne the best wishes and the warmest smile. Jeanne told him not to miss her too much while she was away, saying that she was going to come back when she was ordained a priest in order to make sure Francis made a success out of his life. Then they exchanged hugs and kisses.

Finally Jeanne flew away.