Hi, Jenny here. This story does not belong to me. I'm just the translator (a very terrible one to be exact). This story belongs to BIAK. I decided to upload BIAK's story in chapters other wise it would take me forever with all the school stuff that has been going on.

Anyways, a very big thank-you to her for letting me translate this story. It's a rather descriptive lemon (there's no lemon in this chapter though). I thought it was really good.

All rights go to Hidekaz Himaruya and Biak owns the story.

England, 1997
"I want to see Hong Kong!" demanded China. England was left standing in the doorway, watching her from within. Not even a greeting before speaking. Many less a 'how are you'. She told him directly why she had come without formal talks or anything.

Sighing, England replied in the sweetest way that the situation allowed. The smartest way to ignore what he said:
'Yes, my lady, I'm happy to see you here. Would you like to have tea with me?" he said with a fake smile on his face as he stepped aside to let China enter. Fuming, China came inside stubbornly.

"I want Hong Kong!" said China with the tip of her sleeve which was supposed to be her finger, but the black sleeve was so long that her hands were hidden from view. "Now give him back!"
England closed the door behind him. He did not want to make a scene in public.

"He's not here" said England dismissively. She gasped in surprise. "It's a weekday. Hong Kong is still at boarding school."

"You sent him to Boarding School?" She put both hands to her mouth in surprise.

"In the best of all London of course." replied England. He passed China and stepped up to the living room to sit in one of the armchairs. China, strong as ever, took delicate steps and followed him. England looked significantly from there. The reflection of the fire in the fireplace flickered in his green eyes. "He is my son and will not have no less than the best."

"In a boarding school full of boys smug and horrible?" scoffed China. She could not believe it! Hong Kong does not belong in a place like that!
England could not but smile slightly amused at that.

"English blood also runs through Hong Kong's veins of the very British Empire!" declared England, rising from his chair. From that distance, so close to her, he turned out to be bigger again before China's eyes.

But to calm down, China needed more than a large and imposing presence. Under this fragile body like a fine porcelain doll was hiding an ancient and powerful force as deadly as a gun.

And for some reason when it looked that way, China, from below with suppressed rage, with the color of fire reflected in her eyes and England, from above with arrogance and superiority that he alone had been given, there was a definite tension in the environment that wouldpounce on them, if they kept glaring at each other.

England would not look away from her eyes, because if he did, his eyes would unavoidably fall to her lips and he would remember the things that made dark years ago with her mouth, small and sweet, desirable. He used all his will not to look down and it did not help when he grimaced and licked his lower lip. A gesture barely noticeable but nevertheless was enough to kill all the will he had.

He took her shoulders and pulled her toward him. His mouth hit hers despite China's thin arms flailing around, including beating England's chest slowly in an attempt to escape. He pressed his hands on her shoulders and pulled at her mouth for her to groan. England claimed her again, putting his tongue into her mouth and tasted the exotic oriental flavors and the sweet scent that he had tasted over more than one hundred years ago.

That essence then was no longer in his mouth.

"Get off me!" China snapped moving away. Her eyes shone about to lament. "Never, never do that again!"
England put his arm around her hips. His face broke into a smile when he removed his arm. He wanted to laugh at how silly he had wanted to look at that sinful mouth that he hadn't tasted it for years. And to understand, not without pain, she was not the same girl innocent then. Neither innocent nor helpful.

"I see that you are now able to say no, Chun Yan." China opened her eyes shocked when he called her human name. "What? Already I can not call you by your name?"

"I see no reason for you to do it," she argued, with a scornful action to clean lips with the long sleeves of her shirt.

"Why?"

"Shut up."

"No."

"Shut up!"

"There's no reason to pretend that nothing has happened among us." He looked at her. She gritted her teeth and her hands became fists on each side of her body. It had been her who had started it. She had started it all coming to England's home at that hour of the night to meet him a deal that he had sworn to abide by the honour of knight. "You wanted to come for Hong Kong. Let's talk about Hong Kong then and it will force us to open old wounds."

She was outraged. She put one foot in front safely to move towards him. He would not run again for that demon that had taken everything she had owned, cherished and loved decades ago.

"It was you who took Hong Kong from my arms!" China didn't want cry and yet the tears threatened to slide down her cheeks. "He was only a child when you took him!"
England looked at her with a smile full of sarcasm. His venomous tongue soon appeared.

"Yes, and you being a complete addict to Opium were going to take good care of him."

That was the last straw.

"This is your entire fault, Opium!" China yelled. She kicked him so hard in the ribs that it sent him away to the chair behind him even yielded to the force with which he was sent. England raised his head in the ground aware that the pain was still dormant in the area where China had kicked. For the first time he didn't not know what to say. She had been extremely strong since he last saw her.
The Chun Yan from before would have been unable to defend against attacks, verbal or physical. And today, He would not believe what was happening; it was he who was on the ground in pain. About to lose consciousness with that punch.

"You..." England said absently, dimly seeing how she approached him kneeling beside worried.

"Opium?"

It was the last thing he heard before losing consciousness.

He opened his eyes slowly. His head ached and everything around it was blurry and moving. It took a few seconds to recognize where he was until he saw his room and felt of the sheets against his bare skin. He tried to move, but what that minimum effort earned him dizzy again, so he decided not to do it again.

It was strange. He was at home, in the same room and yet he felt a dark aura dangerous to the environment. He told himself that they were just hallucinations caused by the pain from that attack...

Now England remembered everything. China had beaten him. He had kissed her. She had every reason to have sent to fly with that kick. Though it pained him to admit it in more ways than one. He sneered not because the situation will not seem funny, but because he had learned his lesson in the most ancient of all.

Finally, it was the most important question of where was China? The looked around the outline of his room, he could not move with the throbbing pain in his head. But it was useless because everything around was dark. Or almost, except for the light of a small lamp on his nightstand. He knew it was there with all the security in the world, but how would come alone to his bed, naked to the waist?

A finger poked the area where she had kicked. It hurt. Surely the mark of a serious would soon stay there. It did not matter. The wounds always healed quick in their bodies, almost immortal. During the wars, days after days of endless battles his wounds would heal quickly enough to return to the front on the battlefield hours. It was a curse at the same time a blessing. It hurt, always hurt when he fell wounded and healed only to be battered again. It was something that mortals could reach as much as he could miss wanting to get rid of that gift. There was nothing more wonderful than peace.

And where was China again? She has not returned. Minutes had passed since he woke up and she still did not show. Did she go home? He was sure that if she had gone, it would not be for long, because she wanted to take her son back. He smirked. He wished she would come back to him for another reason other than the son who they had both, but she had made it clear that Hong Kong was the only thing she wanted from him and then? Probably less than people of both houses they wanted, they would not see again. Never again.

"She's not here, England," said a familiar voice in his head. He turned to face her. The little fairy that shimmered with light beams watched, worried. "She was afraid that she hurt you."

"And she ran away?" asked England mentally.

"No. She brought you here and applied ointment on your wound. Strange..."

"My ribs? It wasn't so bad... "

"Yes it was! England, your head would not stop bleeding! It seems that there was broken glass when you fell: a glass or bottle, do not know," exclaimed the fairy. The miniature fairy flew around his head, almost landing on the pillow of his bed, "See? The blood has not yet dried completely!"

England saw with horror that the pillowcase was covered with a crimson red as he knew himself: his own blood. It was too much- enough for a normal human being could bleed to death.

She'd care. Her. Even after being so vilely insulted. The thought made his heart beat strongly. She could have gone and let him die and that no one but they both knew it, and yet she decided to take care of him.

"England, she's here!" transmitted the fairy flying into a corner. England did not understand why the fairies always hid when someone else was coming if only he and no one else could see them. But at the time, had more important things to take care of, to solve this dilemma.

China had opened the door carefully not to make noise. England closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. She left the paper bag she was carrying in her arms on the table of England's desk before turning to watch. He watched with eyes closed between carefully enough to not betray. China was pale and breathing slowly and deeply as she leaned over the bed to see England. It looked like almost nothing in the darkness, but the brightness of the light from the lamp on the table dimly illuminated his face painted with colors and fire, as if about to be absorbed by its flames. China thought why not turn on the light, but for some reason she refused to do it because it could attract attention and she did not want anyone to see her there and they are simply, to her surprise, she wanted to keep seeing his face pale with those colors.

Like hell it was. A demon disguised as an angel. Asleep as he was, that face seemed unable to deface the face of a cruel and merciless master, one who did not care about anything but being satisfied. If she did not know and had not experienced firsthand, he seemed harmless. But he had done so much damage over a century ago and the wounds he had inflicted had not healed in her.

"She should have let you die bleeding," a voice inside him said, frowning as his hands low is long and sometimes uncomfortable hands crossed. Still wondering why he was helping and not let him die there. But if he did what would happen to his little Hong Kong? If England died before Hong Kong returned. England had no idea what would happen and their ancestors, they feared anything.

Worse, England still did not wake. It had been hours since China hit him and he still showed no signs of consciousness. China's eyes widened when she realized one thing if he had more wounds than she realized in time? She swallowed. She was so frightened when it happened it did not consider that possibility. But where else would be hurt? He had already taken off his shirt and all China had seen was the mark she had left between the ribs and abdomen when she kicked. And the head wound that crashed into the whiskey bottle and had stopped bleeding it seemed. Anything more than that?

Dun Dun DUNNNN. What will happen next?

I hope you like Biak's story so far. I still can't thank her enough!

Send you love to BIAK, not me. I'm just the crappy translator. I don't deserve any credit.

Well, Spark Miko Miko signing out then!