If there was any time Japan liked visiting America, he would say it was when Autumn was about to begin. He didn't care much for the summer heat, and he wasn't too fond of the snow that plagued Alfred's home when he visited in the winter. (Neither was Alfred for that matter) Spring was alright, but it always made his eyes run from the amounts of pollen from cottonwood and weeds whenever it was first starting.
Fall was different though. The colours of the leaves and the slight tinge of crisp air was so purely… autumn that he couldn't help but think it was his favorite. The crunch of the leaves beneath his walking feet made him feel a childish joy that he never really let go of in all of his years.
Maybe that was why? It made him feel young again.