Memories of Ghosts

Eight: The Closest Thing to Being Human

30 March 2017

He didn't know how exactly, but he made it through the first two hours of the world meeting.

Every now and then, whenever he faded from his memory of the tower, he would catch words or actions from the present time. Alfred had referred to the growing tension of his country and North Korea and what kind of measurements should be taken in order to cease it (most of which were violent). He found Ivan, Yao, and Kiku take notes on majority of what Alfred said; Arthur figured he didn't need write anything down, but made a mental note to keep an eye on the two countries in case anything were to happen. Several times during the meeting, Yao raised his hand and asked Alfred about the money he still owed him (Alfred pretended not to hear him each time he asked).

He also found Francis sitting on the other side of the grand table, a little closer to Alfred at the front with Antonio and Ludwig at his sides. He seemed like his normal self with his hairy chin rested in the palm of his hand and his other hand either scribbling down notes or brushing away a lock of hair out of his eyes. He grew annoyed at how he would always comb back his hair or adjust his suit every other minute and so he eventually glanced down at his own papers, at his vacant notes.

Toris sat at Arthur's right and tried to take notes of what was being discussed, but was often poked at or prodded by Feliks beside him, who was clearly bored by the entire concept of the day's meeting. Matthew, who was on his left, underlined important statements in his copy of the packet Alfred handed out earlier or twirling his thumbs anxiously whenever the slightest argument arose. Either he didn't utter a single word in the last two hours or Arthur was too occupied with his memories to notice (more likely the latter if he had to choose).

When Alfred finally called for a thirty-minute intermission, the countries went on to their individual ways of relaxing. Most, however, got up to go get lunch from the small café in the lobby; some searched through their citizens' American passports again while others remained seated, adding to their personal notes.

Arthur was one of the few who didn't move from his spot (mainly because he didn't hear Alfred's announcement over the sound of pouring rain and a crackling fire producing from his mind). His gaze stayed locked onto his blank sheet of notebook paper as he mindlessly twirled his pen in between his fingers. The reminiscence of Elizabeth's time trapped in the Tower of London ended only when he felt a large hand clamp down on his shoulder and hear an acquainted voice ask him, "Hey, man, didn't you hear me?"

He flinched slightly at the sudden grasp, spinning his head toward the speaker. Alfred was standing behind him with a waiting look on his face as if he just questioned something and was searching for an answer from him. Matthew, who was still beside Arthur at the table, also peered at him like so.

He blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I said breaktime is here. You wanna go grab a bite?" Alfred repeated, jerking his chin toward the double doors ahead.

Running a hand through his hair, Arthur sighed, "No thanks. The last time I ate American food with you was in nineteen eighty-six." He glared at him. "I honestly don't understand how you can consume so much sugar and fat without suffering from a heart attack every other hour."

"You're just jealous because you can't make a decent cheeseburger—or anything for that matter."

Arthur felt his left eyelid twitch slightly at Alfred's comment as he turned to Matthew.

"C'mon, Mattie. Let's go get some lunch."

Matthew smiled apologetically. "I actually ate before I came here today. Thanks though."