Title: One Never Gets Used To Being Left Behind
Characters/Pairings: England, Hong Kong
Rating: K
Summary: In which Hong Kong asks permission to eat out with China and England wants to believe that he is used to everyone leaving him behind. (set a few days before the handover ceremony of Hong Kong in 1997)
Warning: weird plot, historical inaccuracies(?), OOC Hong Kong and England (especially Hong Kong orz)
AN: Written for the prompt: the art of losing isn't hard to master.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
"Gogo wants me to eat dinner with him tonight." It is more of a statement than a question but England knew Hong Kong well enough to know that he was politely asking for his permission.
"He says he will treat me to a full ten course Chinese dinner, so that, according to him, I'll 'learn to act and eat like a real Chinese'. Because I-" Hong Kong paused, as if reluctant to continue.
"Because you'll be leaving me and living with China in a few days." England finished for him, not even looking up from his embroidery.
From the corner of his eye, England could see Hong Kong staring at him with a look of curiosity and mild surprise; as if he was expecting more from England than the lackadaisical response he was receiving instead.
(And England couldn't blame the boy, really. Hong Kong was, after all, his frequent companion during drunken nights when he was wasted and crying over America leaving him centuries ago.)
It was not that England did not care at all if Hong Kong left. He cared for him as much as he cared for his other colonies. But soon, these colonies left him one by one: America, Canada, India, Australia and now…Hong Kong. And England would like to believe that he was used to this by now. Because being left behind was a normal part of the life of a…of a former empire.
"Well, I guess I better go now." Hong Kong said, breaking the silence that had (unnoticeably to England) filled the room.
"Wait." England stood up and scrutinized Hong Kong from head to foot. He tsk-ed and began smoothing out the wrinkles on his clothes with his hands.
England could hear Hong Kong mutter "I'm not a kid anymore." under his breath.
"Let it not be said by China," England said, fixing Hong Kong's sleeves, "that I had not brought you up as a proper gentleman."
England wondered if it was just his imagination or if Hong Kong's sleeves were shorter than usual. He remembered that they used to be really long, almost covering his hands. They barely reached his wrists now.
"When did you grow so big?" England mused.
Hong Kong used to be small, England remembered. A little dark-haired child clinging to the fringes of China's robe. China had pushed him towards England, who immediately pulled him closer by his short chubby arm.
"You are merely babysitting him." China had told England curtly before leaving with that regal dignity of his.
Hong Kong soon grew up, from a small and timid child to a naughty boy, running around and getting dirty like most other boys. England could still remember one of Hong Kong's favorite pranks: lighting up firecrackers underneath his favorite chair while he was seated on it and doing his embroidery. They were not powerful fireworks but they were loud enough to make England jump from his seat in surprise.
"Why you insufferable brat!" England would splutter out.
And Hong Kong would laugh, loud and carefree.
Then, he grew up again. And Hong Kong was not anymore a boisterous young fellow. He had become a quiet young man, with just enough of boyish good humor left in him. And England would look forward to the afternoons he could spend with Hong Kong, drinking tea and eating steamed meat buns and burnt scones in the garden. A welcome respite from the noise and stress that was the world meetings.
And then Hong Kong had grown up again. And he was now leaving England in a few days.
Hong Kong coughed politely, breaking through England's reverie.
"I guess I better go now." Hong Kong told him softly.
"You should." England mumbled, avoiding Hong Kong's worried eyes. "China's probably waiting for you."
England did not watch Hong Kong leave, did not raise his eyes until he heard the click of the door.
He sat back on his chair and tried to resume his embroidery, but his eyes were clouded up. And it was only when he felt a warm wetness rolling down his cheeks did England realize that they were tears.
England would like to believe that otherwise. But he had never gotten used to being left behind. And he probably never will.
end
Some notes:
1. Gogo is Cantonese for Big Brother. (I have to thank my readers over at livejournal for this. I used the Mandarin one, gege, when I posted this at lj because I'm more familiar with Mandarin than with Cantonese OTL.)
2. The handover ceremony mentioned in the summary is the day that officially marked the transfer of Hong Kong from the United Kingdom to the People's Republic of China.
So uhmmm...idk but I'm guessing Hong Kong, England and the whole plot are OOC. I'm sorry. ;; And lflfklf Hong Kong's so hard to write orz. Wish he starts getting featured in official strips lol.