I See Emeralds

Chapter Twenty-Six (Francis' POV)

(Uh, there's something that might be considered sad near the end of this chapter. Just a heads up. The next chapter is wayyy more depressing, though.)

I feel a light tug on my jacket sleeve while I walk home. I smile down affectionately at the shorter boy. "Hey Arty." 

"Don't 'hey' me, Frog," he hisses, his green eyes gazing downward. 

"I've been meaning to ask, why do you call me a frog?" I ask. 

"Remember how you moved to France a few years ago? I've always been really bitter about that," he tells me. 

"Come on, you moved all the time when we were little. I was lucky if I managed to see you for more than a month," I say and roll my eyes. He still hasn't told me the color of them even though we've known each other since preschool.

"I guess. But we're pretty much done with moving now." He shivers. His green jacket is too light for this weather. 

"Want to borrow my jacket again?" I offer, ready to slip it off. He quickly shakes his head.

"That meant nothing. Nothing! I was just...very grateful," he insists. Looks like I'm not the only one who remembers the incident from earlier.

"Sure," I murmur. But I take my jacket off and throw it over his shoulders. I've always been pretty immune to the cold for some reason. I never get sick. But I know Arty does really easily. 

He waits until he thinks I'm looking away before he puts it on over his own jacket. "You're annoying," he mumbles. 

"Then why have you hung around me all these years?" I retort. He doesn't reply. 

A few minutes later I begin to hear a pattering noise. Arthur wipes raindrops off his forehead. "This is why I hurried to catch up to you," he comments. 

"You knew it was going to rain?" I ask. 

"Yes. I read the forecast," he says. 

"So what does the weather have to do with walking with me?"

"I was hoping you may have an umbrella," he says hastily. I can tell he's lying. 

"Nah."

"Bother," he complains. He walks closer to me. "Why must we live so far from the school?" 

"Am I too pressuring?" I ask suddenly. I don't even mean for the nagging question to slip out. 

"What?"

"Am I too pressuring? Is that why you hate me?"

"I never said that I hate you."

 "Yes you have. You say it nearly every time I speak to you," I say and sigh. 

"Oh." He stops walking. "I don't mean it."

I snicker. "You're being nice. That's weird." 

He rolls his eyes. "Don't talk about this," he says and leans against me. Then he quickly pecks me on the cheek. Yes!

After a few moments of this closeness, I force myself to nudge him off. "Aren't you going to be with Alfred and Mattie today?" I ask. "You don't want to be late."

"I'm pretty sure Al is with his little boyfriend," he says bitterly. "And Mattie tells me that he prefers being alone lately. I don't want to spoil that for him just yet. So I've got all the time in the world."

"Ah. I know you've got a thing for being alone too, so I'll just go on up ahead. See you on Monday! Don't get caught in the nasty weather," I caution. "You can keep the coat over the weekend." I'm about to walk away when he tugs on my sleeve again.

"Wait. Please stay. I don't want to be alone while it's raining," he pleads and stares at me. I feel my gaze soften in sympathy. He's always on edge whenever there's bad weather.

"Okay. There's a tree nearby. We can wait for the rain to clear up a little there," I tell him gently. He nods and holds my hand, his own shaking.

"Thank you..." he whispers so quietly that I barely hear him. He and Mattie really are related. I lead him to the place I described and make sure to stick close to him.

The rain gets more heavy and he makes a sort of squeaking noise. He seems embarrassed about it. "It's okay. I'm with you. You don't have to face the rain alone," I tell him. To be honest, the rain isn't actually that bad. It will probably be light enough to walk through in a few minutes. But Arthur is nervous so I'm trying to make him feel more at ease.

"Thank you," he mutters again. I put my arm around his shoulders and pull him closer. He snuggles into me, having temporarily forgotten his usual temper. This makes me remember the only other time I've seen him like this.

"Francis, Arthur, please stay put for a few minutes. I have to go pick something up from another teacher. I'll be back soon," our teacher tells us. We nod and she leaves the two of us alone in the classroom. We are first graders at Mondo Elementary. We're the only students in our class who haven't been picked up by our parents yet.

By the time I turn back, Arthur is nowhere to be seen. "Arty?" I call. I get only a sniffle in reply. I locate the source, a cabinet, and open it.

Arthur is sitting inside, his face buried in his knees. "Are you okay?" I ask. He just barely shakes his head so as to not lift it up. "What's wrong?"

"I don't like this," he whimpers.

"Don't like what?"

"The rain."

"Why not?"

"Mummy and Daddy are always mad when it rains. They're mad and they yell and act weird," he explains quietly. "It makes me scared, plus the thunder that sometimes comes later is so loud."

I make my way into the cabinet and sit next to him. He looks up slightly, tears glistening in his emerald eyes and down his cheeks. "I'm sorry. But it will be okay. Me and Mrs. Oran are here with you! And the storm won't last forever!" I try to sound comforting. I've never seen Arty, both my enemy and the closest thing I have to a friend, act like this before.

"I...I..." he trails off. He suddenly embraces me in a hug, his arms shaking as he sobs into my shoulder. "Thank you Francis..."

I didn't realize it as I was reminiscing, but I've ended up stroking Arthur's hair in a subconscious attempt to comfort him. He rubs his green eyes. His cheeks are wet. From the rain or tears, I'm not sure which. Maybe both.

"Thank you Francis," he says as he hugs me tightly. I only nod and smile. It turns out that sometimes being a shoulder to cry on is worth more than any words.

(In case it wasn't clear, I was trying to imply that Arthur's parents frequently got drunk and argued whenever there happened to be rain. I imagine that in the actual Hetalia universe, he would probably have a minor issue with rain anyways because of the whole Revolutionary War thing. I know that I already warned you in the beginning of this chapter, and I'm going to do it in the next chapter too, but the next chapter is really weirdly depressing. I'm sorry about that. But it gets better, I swear! AND I KNOW THAT FRANCIS' EYES ARE BLUE, NOT PURPLE, BUT I DUN GOOFED UP. IT'S TOO LATE TO FIX IT NOW. ;-;)