The British gentleman led the way, still clutching the book tightly. It was a bit of a walk to the house, but no one complained. Now that Arthur was looking, he could see how desolate the streets were. Everything seemed to have despair seeping out of every crack in every home. It was uncomfortable, cold, and definitely not the Paris as everyone else knew it... and that broke Arthur's heart even more. Pressing on despite the aching in his chest, they soon arrived to the still pristine and glowing abode of the Frenchman. Arthur knew where the key was, going to a discrete and disclosed location to grab it. He could hear a faint meowing when he returned to the door, as well as Feliciano wailing, "Is there a little kitty in there?! Don't worry; we're coming to save you soon!"

Arthur's eyes widened as he remembered the feline was still inside, hastily unlocking and swinging open the door. The beautiful, snow colored cat had been sitting in front of the door, obviously craving the return of his master. Arthur was close enough however. He brushed against the Brit's leg and meowed a greeting.

Confusion rippled through the others like a wave, none of them having seen this cat before. Even more confusion came to them when Arthur sat the book aside to take the cat in his arms and gently pet him. As he purred, Matthew asked timidly, "Is that Francis's cat? I didn't know he had one..."

"Neither did I!" Alfred said, stepping up to Arthur to pet it gently. "It sure is soft."

Arthur didn't answer the questions, too wrapped up in holding the cat close to himself and pressing kisses to his fur. He still reminded the Brit of Francis. He mumbled inaudible words, though Alfred thought he could hear 'I'm sorry' repeated from Arthur's quivering lips as he held the cat dear and precious.

Feliciano started to stroke the cat with Arthur, giving a hum. "Big brother would have loved a kitty like this! So pretty and soft…"

Lovino huffed and looked away. "Yeah... it acts just like him. Especially how it seems to like Arthur so much."

"He did love this cat. It was the first time I saw him genuinely smile after... what I did." Arthur said gently, responding to what Feliciano had said as well as Lovino. "And it is just like him. I knew there was a reason Francis chose this one... he reminds me of him so much..."

Everyone was saddened a bit more at that, deciding to move into the living room and give the Brit some space. Once they left, his emeralds revealed themselves as he looked at the cat. "Francis is going to get better. And when he does, the both of us are going to tell him how much we missed him... how much we really love him..."

"Hey Arthur!" Gilbert sounded from the living room. "I know you're grieving and everything, but get in here! Bring the diary too! We're gonna read it!"

Arthur walked in, carrying said diary, but looked more ready to explode than an active volcano. "Have you gone daft?! We're not going to read this! Especially since when he recovers, he'll be mad enough at me already!"

Matthew shook his head. "Not for that reason, Arthur. It's because he left it to you for a purpose. There's got to be something in here that's really important..."

Ludwig gave a slight hum in agreement. "They have a good point. There must be a reason he wanted you to have it."

Arthur sat down, holding the two things that reminded him most of Francis dearly. Although he didn't want to invade Francis's privacy, they had very good reasoning. They might miss something important if they didn't read through it. Against his own wishes, he responded, "Alright... but we're only reading things that are relevant."

Once the cover opened once again and they flipped past the page, they found something a bit odd. Different things were highlighted different colors... which meant Francis knew this was going to happen to him after his cutting spree. It was also noticeable they had been touched while his wounds were fresh, as little droplets of blood accented each highlighted page. None of them could figure out what this meant, until Antonio noticed something. "Arthur, go back to the first page."

Emerald eyes met him for a moment, a bit confused, but compliant. Once the pages turned, Antonio pointed. "See? It says to turn to the last page."

After he heaved all the pages to the side, a small bit of writing, as well as small spatters of blood, could be visible:

'If I know you like I think I do, Angleterre, the others will be with you. I want them to know I love them all very much, and I want them to see that I care about them even though I don't care about myself anymore. Each one of the highlighted pages are for all of you to read together. Though, who it is for will be in a specific color. My dear sweet Angleterre, your pages will be green. Alfred's pages will be red. Mon petit Mathieu will have the purple pages. Antonio will have orange pages. Gilbert will have blue, Feliciano will have yellow, Lovino will have brown, and last but not least, Emma will have pink. Hopefully you will remember these times as fondly as I did. I love you all very much... au revoir, ma famille~'

Arthur was wide eyed once he read all of that, voice trembling towards the end. "He... spent so much time on this. I can't believe he even did this for me- I can understand all of you b-but..."

Feliciano could tell Arthur was almost to the point of tears, and the Italian man hadn't seen Arthur like that before. Everyone else had one time or another, but the two weren't really close at all. He came over and hugged him, saying in a desperate attempt to lift his spirits, "Big brother always loved you. He talked about you all the time around Lovi and me. I could tell that it was hard for him though, because he has never loved someone so much. Not even Jeanne d'Arc. I never saw him happier then when he talked about you though, and he still does. He always will... don't cry. He'll be okay. And when he wakes up from his nap you can tell him how you feel. Everything will be just fine!"

Although he hadn't been expecting such from him, it was greatly appreciated. He even smiled just a little, patting the Northern Italian man's back. "Thank you. That helps."

Once they broke apart, he sighed. "Well, the first page is green. I know Emma isn't here but... I have to know."

Alfred nodded. "Go ahead. Emma's a chill chick. She won't mind that we started without her."

With that, he opened it to the first marked page:

'Today, Arthur came to visit me... though it wasn't something that I would have expected from him. In all reality I found it was very out of character for him. I still think Antonio and Gilbert dared him to do it...'

And with that, the memory became vivid in Arthur's mind.

It was a day that seemed to be hotter than the depths of hell. Arthur would have thought even Russia would be melting. He'd traveled to Francis's summer home in a small, sleepy little town not many knew of if they didn't live there. Francis had been cooking himself some dinner when he heard a knock sound from the entry way. His heart skipped a beat when he heard Arthur call out, "Answer the bloody door! I can smell cooking going on in there so you better not pretend you aren't home like last time!"

Sapphires dazzled in delight at the old teasing, hurrying over to answer the door before making his way back to the kitchen faster than the blink of an eye. The brit walked in with his usual scowl, his emeralds keeping a sharp look out for nothing in particular. His old shoes clacked against the wood, which made Francis laugh.

"Oh, did you bring a horse with you, cher?"

"Shut your ugly mug." He replied, folding his arms as he walked into the kitchen.

Francis stopped busying himself with the cooking to give him a coy smile. "What brings you to my summer home, Angleterre?"

In response he got a gruff, "I came to have supper with you."

The Frenchman almost dropped the pan he was holding. "Supper? With Moi? Hm, I think you have finally lost your mind..."

"No, I'm serious." He shuffled his feet a little bit, out of embarrassment. "Recently I've… honestly been craving the dinners you used to cook for myself and the boys when they were younger. Because it reminds me of them and I honestly wish I could go back to that."

Although shock rippled through him, he still managed an extremely sly, "Are you sure it is not because you missed me as well as our children?"

"No, and please don't call them that. They were both mine in the end anyway."

"Hmph. I still think you've gone crazy, but oui. As long as you set the table."

A roll of the emeralds was all he got before Arthur walked over. "Where do you keep your dishes and your silverware?"

With a simple hand gesture to where both of those things were located, Arthur got them and escaped to the living room. He set the table expertly, having done so every day of his life. He also grabbed Francis a glass and a wine bottle, knowing that was likely what he would have wanted. He himself went with a simple glass of water, since he didn't have any tea with him. He examined it, making sure not a single thing was out of place before click-clacking back into the kitchen. Being the gentleman he was, he came to a point where he almost offered to help him cook.

Francis stopped him, almost able to read his mind before a word could come out of his mouth. "Don't you dare ask me if you can help. If you so much as touch anything it will all be ruined."

Arthur scoffed. "Oh please." Although he smiled, knowing that was coming.

"Go sit down. It will be done in just a bit, black sheep." He couldn't resist a smirk after that.

After huffing (although it was nothing compared to the big bad wolf), he flicked a strand of Francis's hair before laughing like a hyena and running off. Francis gasped. "You naughty little wizard boy!"

Arthur was still snickering when Francis came in with the food he had been preparing, letting the stubborn British man make his own portions before taking the remainder. He noticed the sole wine glass and chuckled. "What's this? You got me my favorite wine in a glass without me having to even ask for it? If I didn't know better, I would think you're compensating for something..."

Arthur had already started eating, finishing what was in his mouth before stating, "Whatever. I've just spent enough years around your constant pestering that I've learned what you like by now."

Not another word was spoken, as Francis too had delved into the food he had prepared. Arthur would admit it was delicious- just not to Francis. His lion-like stubbornness had gotten a hold of him like it always did. He had originally come over to visit Francis and relive the days they used to have when Matthew and Alfred would be playing together and it was just them two.

He missed it with all of his heart and soul, but not a speck of that ever escaped his lips. As they finished both of their meals, the British man wiped his face with a napkin and gave a faint smile. "Thank you. That really did bring back the memories of the days where you refused to subject the children to my perfectly delicious cooking."

Francis winked slightly. "You're welcome. And I saved those children from death by British food and because of me; Matthew and Alfred aren't ruined by your cooking. At least... Matthew isn't."

"Oh, bugger off! Alfred is just fine, thank you very much."

He sounded like a lion defending his pride, which in all honesty made Francis smile wider than he would have admitted. He was about to say something more when Arthur rose to a stand, taking his plate as well as Francis's and going to wash them.

The memory faded and Arthur read the last bits:

'The next thing I knew, he was washing my dishes for me like a proper gentleman would. He really does live up to his name, no matter how grouchy he is. My heart was going a million kilometers an hour and I wondered if someone had put him up to this. I was almost tempted to ask, but I didn't. It would ruin my illusion that he came to see me, just to spend time with me. So I believed it, and even though I called both Gilbert and Antonio after the event, neither of them said they had ever told Arthur to do anything of the sort. Those liars.

Not much else has happened the rest of the day, except that I painted a little. I found myself doing a gray scale painting of a lion... because it's gray like the skies of his city, fierce and yet gentle at the same time like him... and extremely powerful like him as well. The hour is growing late, so I will be getting to bed now. I hope that in the future, I can count this day as one of my best.'

All eyes were on Arthur as he read the last part, the voice of Alfred speaking up. "Did you really do that, dude? I wouldn't think you would be man enough just to go over there and see him. Though it does make sense you wouldn't tell him it was because you missed him."

Arthur just nodded in a slow and smooth manner, taking his time answering. "Yes. I honestly was hoping to spend some quality time with him. It'd been over a year since I'd seen him last, previously to that day..."