Sometimes he just likes to step on a bus, not knowing where the vehicle is heading, and just sit and wait.
Of course, that's total bullshit considering the fact that he's South Korea, the embodiment of this nation, and he's participated in creating the entire public transportation system and all, so he usually does have a pretty good idea where he's going to end up whenever he takes a public bus. Sure, he doesn't check off every single revision made to the bus routes, so sometimes he's in for a mild surprise or two, when they veer off course from his expected routine, but the general list of areas plastered across the side of each bus informs him the vague upcoming adventure. It's not like he can get lost inside his own capital city (unlike Roderich, who somehow gets lost in his own house).
But sometimes, he wishes he can just get a little lost anyways. Then he could travel through winding alleyways and old avenues, past small stores that he never saw before…
Too bad that he knows the geography of the land like the back of his hand; it's hard to come across something new, monument-wise, these days. Especially since his wandering grounds have been specifically limited to the city recently, and even though South Korea is proud of his Seoul very much, he is quite bored of the same scenery every day.
The bus he's on right now is heading towards one of those places, where there's a bunch of cafés and good food and expensive clothing, but nothing really exciting. It's not exactly a street for tourists to come visit, but it's one of South Korea's favorite places to drop by when he's not feeling particularly inspired to do some paperwork. Sadly, it's not really the best place to come without someone to eat or shop with, but he's walked around by himself enough to not care about taking a table by himself.
So after an hour of mindless wandering, with some speculations on how one of his favorite gelato stores has closed down (not that he really cares, since there's a dozen other chain stores in the city anyways) and how that there's a new fast food restaurant around the corner, he enters a building that is labeled with blinding white letters, Starbucks, and nonchalantly orders a café latte.
After taking a cozy seat by the window, with his warm drink in his hand, South Korea stares out the window and watches the minutes roll by. Not a lot of people around. Nothing interesting going on. Nothing really new (except for that fast food place, but who cares about that? Alfred does not qualify as an answer).
Boring. As in a "booooooooooring", kind of way.
Why the hell did he choose to walk into a street that's the local lovers' hotspot anyway? Why is everyone paired up, boy-girl, male-female?
Life is just miserable.
It isn't that he as lonely or anything, but he hasn't had a real conversation or interaction with anyone for…however many days since Christmas Eve. On the 24th, all the nations had gotten together for a formal Christmas gathering, courtesy of Finland, and in summary, got drunk. Apparently in his drunken state, South Korea had done something to Liechtenstein, so Switzerland and Belarus were still sending him threatening text messages and emails.
Moreover, he had somehow awoken to a Christmas morning and had to witness France shamelessly snogging a teddy bear, which was awkward, and he had trudged to the bathroom only to walk in on a heated shagging session that settled a long ago bet between him and Hong Kong (shit, Lithuania did top Poland after all?), which was even more awkward.
He had proceeded to fly home and contact Japan, because China had been whisked off by Russia for who-knows-what and Hong Kong was probably with Switzerland, who South Korea wanted to avoid for the time being.
In Japan's case, Greece had answered the phone, and South Korea had dutifully relayed a Merry Christmas greeting and hung up as soon as politeness allowed him, because he found it extremely awkward to try talk to someone who he had ever so gleefully defeated during the recent World Cup.
Taiwan didn't even pick up the phone.
He spent the rest of Christmas on his couch and watching reruns of his precious TV dramas, Christmas joy be damned.
(He was NOT lonely. Period.)
Since then, South Korea has alternated between completing the last of the year's work for his boss, listening to America complain about how he pissed off England again, playing Tetris (it was addicting, darn it), and glaring at the phone.
Which he is doing right now, except that it is his shiny new cell phone instead of the old battered house phone which is at the receiving end of his stare.
There is no way the thing is going to ring and light up with that cursed name he has heard far too many times for his liking this latter half of the year. He has spent several hours trying to decide whether he should make the call or not, but he has procrastinated in making the decision.
It is already the last day of the year. He shouldn't put it off anymore.
"Hm?"
A distinct knocking comes from the other side of the glass that makes up the entire wall of the café, and South Korea lifts his head up,
and comes face to face with Hong Kong.
"Maddox?"
South Korea narrowly avoids spewing out his coffee, and instead ends up coughing like he is high on the flu. Meanwhile, Hong Kong walks around past the wall, through the glass doors, and up to the still wheezing nation.
"I see that you are overjoyed, but please avoid dying from hyperventilating by just the mere sight of me." Hong Kong's face is neutral, but his tone betrays his immense amusement.
"Sure, Maddox, I could've died at the sight of you." He inserts as much sarcasm as possible.
His brother shrugs, as if he could not care less if the Korean does die after all.
"I am surprise you are still alive, what with you did do Heidi…Or rather, what Vash and Belarus think you did to her." The insinuation is not overlooked.
"You little liar…" South Korea growls, mentally noting to make sure Switzerland gets those incriminating photos of Hong Kong, which will definitely alert the Swiss nation as to who was stealing his chocolates. "Payback is a bitch, you know."
Hong Kong's lips curve upward infinitesimally. "I hope she is a sexy one."
That takes the temporary irritation away so smoothly that South Korea can't help but laugh and let the prank slide (but those photos are still going to go).
"So what are you doing here? You should've told me you were coming!"
Wait.
"How did you know I was here?" It isn't like anyone knew where he was going to be for the night.
"Coincidence."
That's hard to believe, so South Korea says the first thing that comes to his mind at the response.
"Maddox, are you stalking me?"
As soon as the words leave his mouth, South Korea feels an overwhelming urge to laugh, because the idea is simply ridiculous. Hong Kong, stalking him, South Korea? He allows a few chuckles to escape.
"No." Even Hong Kong looks a little disturbed at the thought.
"I mean, it would be creepy if you did, but I guess it'd be an honor too…Don't give me that look. It's just funny." South Korea finally regains a hold of his composure and looks at his still standing companion. "So really, how did you find me?"
Hong Kong hides the lower half of his face behind a thickly wrapped arm. His long sleeves have been traded for a thick jacket lined with fur. "I have my ways."
South Korea decides that he does not want to know what methodology Hong Kong is using.
"Okay. Then why are you here?"
"Everyone is waiting for you and I had to come find you."
With that said, South Korea finds himself dragged out of the establishment, half-finished drink left behind and his questions unheard ("Wait, who is waiting for me?"). Within a matter of minutes they are back on a bus, Hong Kong consulting the routes displayed at the bus stop before pushing South Korea onto a departing bus. South Korea recognizes the road they turn to, and he turns to look at Hong Kong.
"We're going to my house?"
Apparently his question is not worthy of answering, and Hong Kong simply looks at him with that deadpan expression he's so good at. It looks like he's not getting any answers very soon, so South Korea just heaves a sigh and grips his phone a little tighter.
It's not that he is annoyed to see Hong Kong or something like that. Hong Kong is one of the more receptive one of his siblings when it comes to bantering with him, and it's nice to finally get a chance to talk to someone who isn't whining about how he ended up on the sofa because he made an inappropriate comment regarding scones or something of the like (no offense to Alfred, but it's irritating after three days straight of hearing/watching that on Skype). Hearing that he has company to spend the last night of the year—oh wait, he just realized how dark it is outside—with is usually welcome news to him.
It's just that he feels so tired right now.
As they step off the bus and start walking the rather long distance to his house, South Korea pulls his scarf tighter as the wind threatens to turn his ears and nose into deformed icicles while Hong Kong merely shoves his hands in his pockets, seemingly unperturbed by the freezing weather.
For a minute, South Korea envies Hong Kong for his impassiveness, the seemingly impervious attitude that screams how nothing can possibly bother Hong Kong, mastermind of pranks and deadpan facial expressions. Hong Kong never seems to care about people entering and leaving his daily routine, and South Korea wants more than anything else to not care right now.
But he does care; he cares about other people and the time he spends with them.
He hates being alone.
It's all pointless jealousy, South Korea thinks to himself, because he knows that indifference is only a façade to Hong Kong. His brother is not completely emotionless, after all.
When they arrive at the door, South Korea is surprised to see that the lights in his house are on, and if the sounds that he can hear from outside are anything to go by, so is the television. He raises an eyebrow as he looks inquiringly – suspiciously – at Hong Kong.
"They broke into my house?"
"Spare keys."
"I never gave spare keys to anyone."
"I gave some to them."
Why does Hong Kong have spare keys for his house? It is a question better left unanswered.
South Korea decides to switch locks later on and also remember to fortify ports just in case Hong Kong decides to invade the nation someday.
They both enter the house and remove their footwear, relishing the warmth radiating through air. By the time they reach the living room, South Korea's skin tingles a little as it adjusts to the new temperature.
It's very warm.
"You're so late, aru!" China greets them with an accusation.
Taiwan chimes in, "It's already twenty-eight minutes until midnight! I wanted to go outside to see the fireworks, but you came too late so now we're stuck in here." She sticks her tongue out for good measure.
"It must have been cold outside. I'll bring some more tea." Japan is the only one who remembers his manners and rushes to the kitchen, where apparently Vietnam is, because she hollers a greeting from behind the fridge that sounds something like "you need to stock up on food here!"
Thailand also joins them in the living room—he must have been in the bathroom or something—and pats them on the back as in way of greeting. It is not a very large area in the first place, so it seems a little crowded.
"Hyung, weren't you with Russia? And Mei Cai, you didn't even answer my phone call."
China and Taiwan simultaneously blush furiously.
"Aru! What makes you think that I'd spend New Year's Eve with him?"
Ah, still in denial.
"I was in Belgium for Christmas, so…"
And apparently another couple.
(He is not lonely. And he is so definitely not going to sulk about this.)
"Okay, no need for the excuses ("it's not an excuse, aru!"), so calm down. You could've told me beforehand that you were coming over though." South Korea puts up his hands in a gesture of surrender as he settles himself on the floor next to Thailand. Hong Kong follows suit and sits on the unoccupied space beside South Korea.
Japan and Vietnam return from the kitchen with tea and some of the snacks South Korea had stashed in a corner of his kitchen cabinet, and the center of attention snaps back to the food. The TV volume is turned up and the general din is also becoming increasingly louder, but South Korea finds it hard to become irritated now. Thailand gently elbows him in the side and leans in to whisper into his ear.
"We were worried about you, ana~. Even if they won't admit it, you seemed a little unhappy during the Christmas gathering. You've been through a lot recently."
As soon as the other is finished talking, Hong Kong grabs the Korean nation and talks lowly for only South Korea to hear.
"Everyone cancelled date plans to come here. You owe us."
Maybe he should take off his coat now, because South Korea feels too warm and his body must've adjusted to the temperature now. And maybe he'll reconsider sending those pictures to Switzerland.
"You had a hard year."
Japan is setting down a warm cup of tea in front of him, obsidian eyes trained on somewhere other than South Korea's own eyes. It's an old habit, so South Korea feels a little surprised when Japan suddenly looks him straight in the eye.
"But now a new one is coming. It will be a better year."
It is odd to have Japan, out of all nations, to tell him this. And he has a sinking feeling of what Japan is really talking about.
"You should call him."
South Korea's mouth feels very dry.
Having said what he needed to say, Japan slides back into his seat next to China and watches the TV, which is featuring various locations across the nation, where thousands of people fill stadiums and plazas and roads awaiting the new year. China and Vietnam are talking about time differences, and Taiwan is tugging on Japan's sleeve as she points out some celebrities on the TV that she is particularly fond of. Thailand joins this conversation at a point where he proudly points out one of his own people on the screen.
Nine minutes before 2011.
South Korea looks down on his phone again, wondering if he should call. He should say his Happy New Year greetings, his manners ingrained in his instincts reminds him, but he is not very sure if the other would want to hear such a thing. He is not sure if he wants to say such a thing to someone who is willing to attack him.
Hong Kong and Taiwan are talking about New Year traditions in their own respective lands, and South Korea suddenly wonders why they're here.
Everyone celebrates the New Year with so much festivity and energy and happiness. His own house is dreary compared to the red lights in Hong Kong, the food in China, the fireworks in Japan, the markets of Thailand, the scenery in Vietnam, or the activities of Taiwan. Even the streets in his nation would be better than this crowded room and potato chips and a plasma screen counting down the last few minutes until a new year.
The weirdest thing is that this feels better than any New Year's Eve he went through during the past decade. It feels natural to have everyone sitting elbow to elbow, talking and laughing at the same time and interrupting each other.
We're a family.
The thought alone seems to banish all those worries and distress and pain from the past few months into a far off place, and he feels relaxed.
He doesn't feel so alone anymore.
"Yong Soo," Hong Kong is talking to him, "you're smiling now."
He is, South Korea realizes, and it's not the strained one that he has had to put up on his face for a while now. It is a real one, curved upwards and easy and simply happy.
"When am I not?" South Korea jokes right back, and he can hear Taiwan laugh at that.
There are two minutes left of this year.
"Yong Soo."
He has not heard China call his name for a long time.
"You don't have to call him right now."
South Korea feels his breath stop for a moment, as China looks at him with those wise eyes, seeing right through him and his heart.
"Call him later."
As Japan and Hong Kong discuss fireworks and Thailand goes to refill his cup in the kitchen, while Vietnam and Taiwan exchange opinions about upcoming national events, South Korea feels like he has met his big brother again, his mighty dragon of a brother who seemed to know everything and love him and teach him the importance of family.
"Yeah, I will." He softly agrees. The countdown is starting.
It will be a new year, and he is leaving behind 2010. It means nothing and it means everything.
It doesn't mean he has to forgive.
But it means that they might get a chance to start on a clean slate.
"Twenty seconds!" Taiwan, excited and glowing, joins in loudly on the countdown. Thailand and Japan join her, with Vietnam quietly mouthing the numbers. China joins when ten seconds are left.
"Three!"
South Korea flips his phone open.
"Two!"
He presses speed dial.
"One!"
Then he pressed the call button.
"Happy New Year!"
Taiwans hugs Vietnam with enough force to collide into Hong Kong, who was sitting behind them. China and Japan exchange their greetings and continue to do so with Thailand. South Korea grins and motions that he has a call to make, so Vietnam moves to make space for him to step through into the hall. As he opens the door of his own room, he hears a shout behind him. So he turns.
"Happy New Year, Yong Soo!"
He laughs at the collective shout, and covers the mouthpiece (not that it matters, since nobody picked up yet), and greets them back. He steps into his room and closes the door shut for a quiet environment.
He hears a click on the other side.
"Hey, long time no see."
It is a new year, and maybe a time to make some amendments.
"새해 복 많이 받아."
After a pause, North Korea seems to agree.
"너도."
They are a family, after all.
/ It's 2011 (in Korea, at least), folks. I seriously hope North and South Korea get along with each other this year (please no more bombing...).
ASIAN FLUFF HOORAY! I didn't think I'd pull this off, but I did. Anyone want to guess how many implied pairing there were in this fic? lol. Cyber cookies for anyone who guesses correctly!
The translation for the last conversation is "Happy New Year" and "You too." Obvious, much?
What's with that random title? I don't know.
Happy New Year, everyone!