Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.


"Papa, I don't like this house, it scares me." Matthew whined as he and his father looked around the empty home.

Francis looked at his son, "Mathieu, you wanted to go 'house-shopping' with me and now you're complaining about zis one? It is a beautiful house, how does it scare you?"

Matthew stared at the ground, "I-I don't know, it's just. This house has a creepy vibe and I— I want to go home."

Francis kneed down to his son, "Look, I know zat zis is new to you, but we need to find a home zat is close to where I work and zis house is perfect. It's big enough for ze two of us, it's in a nice neighborhood and I'm sure you'll make new friends here."

Matthew looked up to his father, "Okay Papa."


"Mathieu! Can you bring in ze box zat says 'Kitchen' on it over to me?" Francis called out from the kitchen as he was hanging some decorations on the walls.

"Oui Papa." Matthew agreed as he went into the chilled garage and started searching through the piles of boxes.

"What are you looking for?"

"A box that says 'Kitchen' on it..."

"Oh, I've seen that! It's in the south side of this room."

"Oh! Thanks— W-wait w-who s-said that?" Matthew shuddered as he remembered that only he and his father were in this house.

"Uh...me?" the voice said as Matthew turned around to see a translucent boy around his age floating in front of him.

"AAAHHHH!" Matthew screamed as he fell back, landing on some boxes. However, due to his screaming the boy dissipated in to the air.

"Matthew! Are you alright? What happened! I heard you scream! Are— My! Matthew! You're as white as a sheep!"

"I-I-I don't know Papa...I'm sure...it was nothing..."

Francis frowned, "Are you sure mon fils?"


"Hmm, okay. If you say so."


Matthew laid in his bed, staring out of his window to see the stars and planes shining. He closed his eyes hoping for some rest until—

"What are you doing?" someone whispered into his ear.

Matthew stumbled out of his bed falling onto the ground as he felt the goosebumps coming and heart pumping.

"W-Who's t-there! Show yourself!" He announced as he watched over his bed.

"But you freaked out last time I showed myself. Seriously, make up your mind dude."

"I w-want you t-to show yourself." Matthew said cautiously as he slowly stood up.

"Fine — but no screaming this time."

And right then, on his bed, appeared the same boy from earlier. Matthew, taking a breath, stepped closer to the boy, waving his hand threw him before backing away quickly.

"Are you a-a—"

"A ghost? Yes, I'm a ghost. So you gonna stop being scared already or something?"

Matthew fainted.


Matthew woke up on his bed with his sheets covering him; he quickly sprang up looking around him. Nothing. He sighed in relief.

"So it was just a dream."

"What was a dream? Because if you think meeting me for the second time was a dream, well then think again because I'm here baby and you're gonna hafta get use to it."

Matthew paled, "So you're really here, or have I gone insane, because God I don't know what to think anymore!" he said before dropping his head into his hands groaning.

The ghost boy rolled his eyes, "I'm here, you're not crazy and stop freaking out or else I may think you'll end up in the loony bin."

"Fine, okay, I'm Matthew Bonnefoy, 11 years old, Canadian and I'm apparently having a conversation with a ghost." Matthew said dryly.

The ghost pouted, "Thank you ever-so-much for the kind introduction! Anyways, I'm Alfred, I was 12 years old, American and I'm finally talking to someone else for a change!"

Matthew frowned, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be a jerk, but I never thought that one day I'll be talking to a ghost, or at least, a young one."

Alfred shrugged his shoulders, "I guess I could I see your reasoning, I mean, I never thought that I'd die young, but here I am. A ghost — something that I was afraid of when I was alive. Ironic huh?"

"Yeah, that is ironic..."

Matthew took a glance at the dead boy, his body color was that off a normal, well living, person but faint and see through. His skin color was lightly tan, short wheat blonde hair parting in the right side with a small strand separating from the rest. His cerulean blue eyes were dull and lifeless, showing no emotions if one was to stare, and he pulled off a cocky yet friendly smile and bloody clothing.

"I'm sorry you died."

"Haha! Why are you apologizing for something that happened a long time ago?"


"So~ How do you like my house?" Alfred asked Matthew as he floated above the said boy's head.

"It's nice I guess, but the bathroom...feels off..." Matthew answered as he continued his math homework.

"Off? Like what do you mean? —oh, that one's ten."

"Hey! I was getting there and by off I mean the atmosphere in that room feels... different than the rest of the room. Um, like it has its own- own aura! Like I can tell when you're near because you have your own aura too!"

"Really? I never really noticed— that one's four and a half"

"Hmm. And stop giving me the answers! I can do this by myself!"

"Haha! Make me."


Francis was starting to worry about his son; he was acting very strange ever since they moved into the house. He's heard him talk at night, like he was having a conversation with someone. Whenever Matthew was by himself, Francis would check up on him to see the boy alone, but he felt like he had interrupted something; Matthew was not acting like his Mathieu . And that concerned Francis to his very core.

Francis looked at the direction of his son's door, 'Should I check up on him? But will he become suspicious of me as I am of him…? That sounded bad, I trust my son, but I'm worried about his recent activity.'

Making his decision, Francis walked towards his son's room before hearing him.

"Hey Alfred, do you remember your last name?" Matthew asked.

"My last name? Hmm… No, not really. I don't remember a lot of things before or after I died. It's all vague really." Alfred answered.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you if I did." Matthew apologized.

"It's okay Mattie! There's no need to apologize for something I don't remember!" Alfred said.

"Oh, okay… I'm sorry that you don't remember."

"Haha! You're weird you know that!"

Francis slowly walked away from the door and into the living room.

'Mon Dieu! Who was Matheiu talking to!'


"Matthew...Have you made any friends in school?" Francis asked looking at his son who was on the couch reading.

The lad looked up from his book, "Friends? Yeah, there's Gilbert, Miguel, Ivan, Katya...Uh, yeah, I have friends."

Francis smiled, though really it was forced. "Oh. Okay, it's just zat you've been in your room ever since we moved here and I was afraid zat you didn't like it here."

The Canadian shook his head, "No Papa, I like it here a lot!


That night, Francis heard his son and the mystery child talking again.


"Dude, I think your Dad's becoming suspicious of you." Alfred whispered as they two lay in Matthew's bed together.

"What? You're crazy. Papa wouldn't do such a thing." Matthew said defending his father.

"Well, I think he is, and one day he'll catch us, well you really because he may not even see me." Alfred responded as he shifted his body to face Matthew's.

Matthew turned to face the ghost boy, "One, I think you're over thinking things. Two, what do you think would happened if Papa did find out and three, can you even lay on a bed? Or are you floating?"

Alfred removed himself from the bed and flew towards the window, "Well. I'm sorry that I even brought up this conversation! I'm just worried that your father may not even like the fact that you have a ghost for a friend and just so you know I still like doing human things even if I have to pretend at it!"

The spirit then started to sink down into the floor, realizing what the ghost boy was doing; Matthew crawled to the edge of his bed, "Hey! Where are you going?"

"Somewhere that's not here!"





Matthew rose from his bed, noticing that Alfred was nowhere in sight. Remembering last night's conversation, Matthew decided it was best not to see him anyway.

Getting out of bed, he went out to the kitchen to see that his father was cooking.

"Morning Papa, how are you today?" Matthew greeted as he sat down at the kitchen table.

Francis yawned before speaking, "Ça va bien, mon fils¹. Just a bit tired is all. Do you want some pancakes?"

"Oui Papa."

10 minutes later

"Papa… Why are you so tired?" Matthew asked as he saw his father yawn again.

Francis looked at his son, 'No, I don't think I can bring myself to tell him I overheard his conversation, again, last night. I'm afraid to know.' "Oh, I just had trouble sleeping is all, nothing serious."

"Oh… Well I hope you have good rest tonight."



"Alfred…Where are you? You can't hide forever. I'll eventually find you, you know." Matthew said as he sat in his bed in his room.

"Alfred… Fine stay hidden, I don't care." He said as he dropped his body onto the mattress in an angry fit. "Thought you were my friend…"

Unknown to him, Alfred was in the closet behind (in sense of direction) Matthew's bed. All he did was watch the living boy before descending into the floor under him. "I am…but the world doesn't accept me like you do… But I'll fix that."


Silence filled the house as the two humans slept and Alfred roaming in it with his free will. He walked the halls as the thermostat began to drop in temperature. He looked at the family pictures that were hung on the wall, he stopped at one. It was of a young woman, 'Matthew's mom?' Alfred thought as he tried to touch the picture, but only to have his hand scorched with something unknown.

"Quitter ma famille SEUL!" An unknown voice yelled throw out the house as Alfred backed away from the photo.

As sudden as the scream, both doors of the Bonnefoys opened. Alfred panicked and flew upwards into the attic.

"MATHEIU! Are you okay! What was that?" Francis yelled, crying as he grabbed his son in fear.

"Y-yes Papa, I'm okay, b-but—But who was that. It was a woman…it couldn't be Alfred though…" Matthew said in his father's clutches mumbling the last part.

"I-It sounded like your— your Maman…But she is…dead…" Francis stated in a serious yet frightened tone, "'Leave my family alone.' Do you know what she — i-if it was her — meant by that Mathieu?"

Matthew stayed silent, his gaze at the floor, "No Papa. I don't."

Francis sighed, "Of course mon fils. I shouldn't have expected. I'm sorry."

Matthew felt a pang of guilt and sadness by his father's words. 'Non. I should be the one apologizing, not you.'

"W-Well, I think it's best if we go and try to go to bed. Maybe we'll figure out what happened— if it happened." His father declared as he let go of his son, Matthew nodded in agreement.

The two returned to their rooms, Matthew however, stood in front of his door, "ALFRED! What did you do?" he hissed as he looked around waiting for the ghost child.

Alfred came into view as he floated out from the ceiling, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean for that to happen! I didn't know that that would happen! It scared me as much as it scared you two!" he apologized with a low voice.

"What do you mean 'that to happen'? What did you do?" Matthew continued glaring at the boy.

"I saw some picture of a woman in the hall! I don't know why, but I touched it and it burnt me! Then that yell happened and you know the rest!" Alfred retorted, still whispering.

"Woman? My mother's picture! Why- What do you mean by burnt? Ghost can't get hurt! C-Can they?" He questioned as he grew weary of the ghost before him.

Alfred looked away from Matthew and brought forth his hand, showing the said boy his oddly scorched transparent hand.

"It- It looks melted! Does it… hurt?" Matthew whispered looking at the boy in front of him.

"Well, I suppose it does…but I…don't think it'll harm you or your father…I think it was your mother… And I think she doesn't approve of me…"

Matthew scoffed, "First my father and now my deceased mother! I think you're too paranoid or untrusting of others!"

"Hey! I'm just saying what I think is happening! I'm not stupid and you're in no position in disregarding what I'm telling you!" Alfred replied angrily.

"And what makes you say that?"


In seconds, Matthew's room began to vibrate, his clock resetting the time, air stiff and troubled, the pictures on his walls falling to the ground and his door and window locking him inside. Matthew stumbled onto the ground backing up to his door, frightened as he looked at the enraged spirit. His once blue monotonous eyes were an icy glare that felt as if they were digging into his soul, body sprinkled with red and his aura ghastly and terrifying.

Matthew felt scared, horrified of this Alfred, "Al-Alfred! Please stop! I'm sorry! But you're scaring me!" he cried as he tried to open his door.

"Mathieu! Mathieu! Are you alright? Mathieu!" a voice called out from the other side of his door.

"PAPA! PAPA! I'm sorry! I'M SORRY! I should have told you! There's a ghost! I'm SORRY!"

"Un fantôme? Here! Mon Dieu! De toutes les choses possibles, que c'était un fantôme!³" His father shouted as he tried to break the door down.

"YOU'RE NOT GONNA TAKE MATTIE AWAY FROM ME! HE'S MY FRIEND!" Alfred yelled as he went through the door and in front of a shocked French man, leaving Matthew trapped in his room.

"Mon dieu, un vrai fantôme.⁴ L-Look you, I want you to leave my house and family alone!" Francis commanded though he was still very much afraid. "There's nothing here for you! I'm sorry! But you no longer have your life to live! But my son does! He does not need you!"


"Over my dead body! He is my son and no dead boy is going to steal him from me!" Francis shouted as he still tried to bash in the door.

Alfred shook his head in anger before causing the pictures to fly hitting Francis, who only grunted at the attack.

"Heh, you really think zats going to stop me boy?" Francis laughed as he finally brought down the door, Matthew clinging to his father for dear life.

"NO!" Alfred screamed as he went towards them with no anvil as a faint cloud of white blocked his path, burning his body, "AAAHHHH!"

Alfred retreated back, his misty body dissolving slowly.

"Je vous ai dit de laisser ma famille seule, et maintenant vous allez payer le prix⁵." A woman's voice said as a female figure emerged from the white cloud.

"Wha-What?" Alfred said coarsely backing away from her.

The woman continued walking towards the smaller spirit, as he drawled back more, "G-Get away from me!" he pleaded as she came nearer.

Before he could escape the woman latched herself to him, scorching his body even more. The boy wailed as he tried to break away from her grasp, his body dispersing into white. Despite his protest, she held onto him.

"Ne vous inquiétez pas, la douleur fuira si vous cesser de lutter enfant." The female whispered to the crying boy.

Matthew and his father watched the scene before them in awe and fear, unsure of what to do. Though Matthew did feel sympathy for Alfred, even though he did attack him and his father, but he was human — they feel bad for others. He watched as Alfred had finally given up in the woman's grasp, his "skin" melting away into white glitter, the scorched marks leaving as well until a new layer surfaced Alfred's body. His face and body glazed with a calm and relaxed appearance.

"Voir, maintenant que ce n'était pas dur, n'était pas cher?⁷" she said, still holding him.

"Hmm…I'm sorry…I'm sorry…" Alfred murmured into her arms, faint ghostly tears running down his cheeks.

"Je suppose que nous allons partir maintenant, vous ne pensez pas?⁸" she suggested as she turned to Francis and Matthew, who only gawked at her speechless.

"Je prends ça comme un 'Oui'. Adieu François. Adieu Mathieu."

"B-Bye Mattie! Bye Mattie's dad! I'm sorry!"

The two humans watched as the spirits faded into nothing, their house silenced with peace and danger pacing. There was a needed silence in the room before Matthew broke it.

"P-Papa. Can I sleep with you tonight?"


The next morning.

"Matthew, want to come with me to the library? To you know…investigate…our house?" Francis asked his son who was suppose to be eating breakfast.



"Matthew! I think I may have found something!" Francis said, motioning his son to sit next to him.

"94th Battle Drive," Francis started, looking at the article intently, "On July 4th XXXX, ze Kirkland family was faced with a horrifying tragedy. Arthur Kirkland, a loyal officer of ze law and father, came home to find his son, Alfred F. Kirkland, shot multiple times in ze bathroom… No one knows why he was killed; many propose zat it was because Arthur Kirkland was a successful cop in his field, making him a target by threatening men… Zese are the few words the heartbroken father said upon this incident.

"Please, just leave me be. My son has been killed and I wasn't there to save him. God…He was twelve years for God sakes! To kill him on his birthday! How can someone be so cruel to hurt a child…He—He never even saw it coming…Alfred…my son…my poor boy…"

¹- "Ça va bien, mon fils"–French–"I am well, my son."

²- "Merci."–French–"Thank you."

³- "De toutes les choses possibles, que c'était un fantôme!"–French–" all things possible, it was a ghost!"

⁴- "Mon dieu, un vrai fantôme."–French–"My God, a real ghost."

⁵- "Je vous ai dit de laisser ma famille seule, et maintenant vous allez payer le prix."–French–"I told you to leave my family alone, and now you will pay the price."

⁶- "Ne vous inquiétez pas, la douleur fuira si vous cesser de lutter enfant."–French–"Do not worry, the pain will flee if you stop struggling child."

⁷- "Voir, maintenant que ce n'était pas dur, n'était pas cher?"–French–" See, now that it was not hard, wasn't dear?"

⁸- "Je suppose que nous allons partir maintenant, vous ne pensez pas?"–French–"I guess we'll go now, don't you think?"

⁹- "Je prends ça comme un 'Oui'. Adieu François. Adieu Mathieu."–French–"I'll take that as a 'Yes'. Goodbye Francis. Goodbye Matthew."

[A/N: Google translate used and I originally submitted this to ask-mania-gilbert on tumblr. This can also be found on my fanfic tumblr account.]