Days soon turned to weeks that you were tutoring Alfred. It became the norm to go to his house every day after school. You were told by the fifth day that Mr.Kirkland and Mr.Bonnefoy had settled things the day you first became Alfred's tutor, also being told to call them by their first names when you guys were to meet off campus. You were explained to about how things ran at the house in case you might need to stay over for whatever reason because, oddly enough, there were no servants or maids or butlers there. You were even given a tour so there wouldn't be a repeat of last time (the first week you visited) and your own room in case it was needed.

It was close to summer, which meant a day closer to summer break and very likely summer school for Alfred. The sun's rays poured down on you as you shielded yourself with your arm. You were walking to the manor without Alfred, which was unusual. But earlier after the bell rang at school, he said he would meet you at his house after talking to his current girlfriend Natalia.

It was your seventeenth time walking the path you would always take to Mr.Kirkland's house, and it didn't take long to find yourself in the middle of the front garden, as beautiful as it always had been. You made a mental note to tell Mr.Bonnefoy how nice the garden looked, especially since he didn't have anyone to help him with it. After marking that down on a mental notepad, you thought maybe it'd be nice to wander around. It'd be a great way to kill time knowing Alfred was going to be late anyways.

So you dropped your bag next to a patio table that sat next to a tall hedge and started wandering off. You found yourself next to a koi pond surrounded by stones not too far from the patio table and bent down on your knees. Koi fish were swimming around under lily pads and stray leaves that had fallen off nearby trees. You were tempted to dip your hand in, just to see if the water was cold, and you did. And just as you thought, the water was cold as ice and you quickly retracted your hand back. You stood up, taking one last glance at the pond, and started walking in a different direction.

Passing by the patio table again, you removed your cardigan and placing it on a woven chair, having it earlier because it was slightly chilly in the morning. As you moved away from the table, you walked along the hedge decorated with blooming roses and ones already full. Eventually, you were in the maze of green and red. Surrounding you were leaves made to look the way they were and red paint roses scattered around, with some even growing up from the ground.

In the midst of raveling in the scenery, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. Thinking nothing of it, you ignored it and continued to walk further into the maze. Minutes after walking even further, your phone vibrated again. You ignored it again, thinking it was probably one of your friends asking about the answer to a question from that night's homework. You walked even deeper into the maze, remembering the wise words of a wise man: telling "When you find yourself in a maze, always stick to the left." Or something like that.

Your phone vibrated for the third time. Finally growing annoyed with the buzzing, you checked to see who was trying to reach you, looking at your call log. Alfred's brother, Matthew, had been calling the three times your phone vibrated. Wondering what he could have possibly wanted, you dialed his number. But before you could press call, his caller ID was being displayed on the screen in large text. He was trying to call you again.

You answered. "Hello?"

"_-____!" A relieved sob came from the other side.

"Matt!" You started. "...Are you crying? Sure, I didn't answer the first three times, but--"

"That's not why I'm crying!" He spoke harshly into the phone. Your eyed widened. It wasn't like the soft-spoken, timid Canadian you knew to yell. What could have caused him to start crying?

"T-Then...why are you crying?" You asked, hesitant.

"A-Al..." Matthew cried as he choked on his words. "H-he..."

You froze when you heard Alfred's name. "What are you saying, Matthew? I can't understand you," you said with an uneasy and worried chuckle.

"He... H-he..." It seemed like that was the only word Matthew could say.

"Just spit it out, Matthew!" You screamed into your phone. Silence followed. You suddenly regretted shouting at the sensitive Canadian. "Matt...I'm sorry I yelled at you."

Silence. No one responded. And you knew Matthew wasn't whispering, knowing he would have a habit of whispering to people, because you couldn't even hear anyone's breathing. You removed the phone from your ear and looked at it to make sure he hadn't ended the call. And it was sure as hell he didn't.

You brought it back up to your ear. "Hello?!" You cried. "Is anyone there?! Please! Tell me what's happened to Alfred!"

"H-hello?" It wasn't the Canadian's voice that answered, but the voice of that familiar Brit. He, too, sounded as if he had been crying or was already crying.

"Arthur!" You smiled, relieved that someone answered you. "What's happened?!"

He took a moment, and you weren't sure if he was hesitating or pausing for suspense. "A-Arthur..?" You asked with a shaky voice. "W-what's happened to Alfred?"

"H-he's..." Just like Matthew, he couldn't bring himself to say it, whatever it was.

Tears started to fill your eyes, and you only noticed when one rolled down the hill on your face known as your cheek. You quickly wiped it away with your free hand. "W-why can't you guys just tell me?!" You croaked out with frustration. It felt like an eternity it took for Arthur to spit out the four words he'd needed to say, and you just stood there with the sun warming your body and with sweat starting to bead on your forehead in anticipation rather than heat.

"Alfred's in the hospital..."

Another pause.

"He was run over, you see..."

You froze for the second time. Your whole body grew stiff, an exception for your hands that were shaking. You felt a knot grow in your stomach and your chest start to burn. Your high school crush was in the hospital.

"Thanks for telling me..." You said with slight sarcasm and mostly actual gratitude as waterfalls of tears started flowing down your face.

"He's in the hospital closest to the school. Please. Come quickly. He's awake now if you'd like to see him," Arthur whispered as he ended the call.

Suddenly feeling the weight of your arm, it fell to your side. Your knees felt like pieces of licorice that a child tried to stand up. But you refused to be weak then. Hastily stuffing your phone into your pocket and wiping away the tears that ran down your face, you rushed to find your way out of the maze of red and green. And knowing you had just turned left every time you came to a crossroad, all you did to get yourself out was turn right. But though the journey out of the maze was easy, your anxiety built up on itself every minute you took to maneuver your way out.

Eventually, you found the entrance you came out of, catching a blur with blonde hair dressed in slacks, a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a coat draped over his arm. You quickly followed after him, pausing next to the woven garden chair and patio table to grab your things. Due to the short pause, it caused you to fall back almost five feet behind the man you were following. Shrugging on your cardigan and slinging your backpack over your shoulder, you started running again to catch up to the figure with his hair tied in a low ponytail.

"Francis!" You called after your French teacher.

He stopped and turned around to find you struggling to catch up because of the books in your pack. Not to mention it was quite awkward with it bouncing up and down with each step you took, making it look like your backpack was humping you. But you quickly caught up to him, coming to a stop next to him. "Are," You paused, out of breath, "you heading to the hospital?" You asked once your breathing evened.

"Oui," he frowned as he was reminded of the reason why he was. "Are you?" You nodded, frowning as well.

"Let me drive you zhen," he offered, and you nodded again, following him to his car quickly.

Once the car's engine roared to life, Francis didn't hesitate to step on the pedal and head towards the hospital. While he was concentrating on the road, you sat there, staring at your lap as you fiddled with your fingers and the end of your shirt. All you had your mind on was whether or not Alfred would be all right, and eventually, your mind wandered off.

Was Natalia informed of the incident? You wondered. Would she be there in the room, sitting next to him with his hand in hers?

You weren't in the mood to see the face everyone at school considered perfect. Not to mention the both of you never got along, even before she and Alfred started dating. She would bully you along with Alfred when they got the chance. Sometimes you would even think they were perfect for each other because of how many commonalities they shared. You scowled as you lifted your head to stare out the windshield and at the passing buildings and other cars.

I should really stop thinking of that Belorussian bitch, You thought.

Your thoughts then drifted to the rest of Alfred's family. Matthew and Arthur sounded very upset over the phone to the point where maybe even the Brit was crying. Then you looked to Francis who was still busy driving. His eyes were puffy and red, you noticed, and his face was slightly red as well. He, too, was probably crying. And you remembered: you were crying, too, weren't you? You frowned and stared back down at your lap, where one of your hands was neatly folded over the other. You could feel your eyes start to water again at the thought of Alfred in the hospital because of a careless driver.

The car came to a slow stop just as a tear slid from the corner of your eye and down your cheek. Francis, about to tell you that you'd arrived, looked to you and saw more tears run down your face. You clenched your teeth, in attempt to stop crying, but even more tears fell.

"_____," Francis called, and you looked up with widened eyes and a flushed face. You quickly lifted your hand to wipe your salty tears away, but the Frenchman had beat you to it. With both of his hands cupping your face, he wipe the salty water away with his thumbs. All you did was look at him with saddened eyes, knowing he wanted to cry too, and allowed him to.

"Don't cry, now. Tears don't suit you well," he smiled warmly, cheering you up. You smiled back.

"Then promise me you won't cry either," you asked, pulling away from him to exit the car. He nodded and kept the same smile on his face as he climbed out as well.

"I promise."