Okay, AU time. I really hope you guys like this one. I've been on both a Hong kong and Steampunk kick, so you get this. Thanks to tsuchifuru for beta-ing.

Okay, before I seriously confuse anyone: This story is set in the FUTURE. About year 2684, just so you know, m'kay?

Not much else to say other than I hope you like and I hope you review.

Hong Kong smiled against the steam in the room. Hundreds of people filled China's home to celebrate the peace treaty that had been signed between North and South Korea. Technically, there was alcohol being served, and technically, Hong Kong wasn't of the legal age, but that hadn't stopped him from sneaking out of bed to see what was happening at the party.

As he made his way through the overcrowded hallway, lots of the guests gave Hong Kong strange looks. Who is that child? Someone's face would ask its friends. Oh, just the curse of the British Empire. Another face would reply. The one not even that pirate would take.

In the main room, the Korean twins shone brighter than the gleaming silver of the guns strapped to their sides.

Everyone had to carry a weapon with them at all times these days. Although more and more countries were forming together and signing peace treaties, the tension in the world had never been greater. It seemed like everywhere you went, there was someone just waiting to attack you.

The pipa was being plucked with more and more vigor, and the erhu was strummed more emphatically, until suddenly, it all stopped, and a horrible hush fell over the room.

Then, there was a loud thmp and the room erupted with screams as the guests tried to race outside.

Hong Kong tried to see what was happening, but all he could see was South Korea's panicked face as he picked him up and carried him outside.

It was all black after that, the city's emergency sirens screeching like lost souls.

. . .

When Hong Kong woke up the next morning, something told him that the night before was not a nightmare. He was on the ground, in China's garden, and his head hurt more than it should have.

And nothing could hurt you in a nightmare, right?

For the most part he was alone, save for all of the dead bodies that were sprawled across most of the lawn. There were puddles of blood like rain on the ground.

Hong Kong bit back the pain in his left leg. He rose to his feet and shook a bit too much for his comfort. He limped to the house and looked inside.

It was completely abandoned. Smashed remains of glasses pressed into the bottoms of Hong Kong's feet, although the cold had numbed his body do much it was only a dull pain. The instruments that had been so joyously played the night before were now spread across the floor like garbage.

He looked around the corner hesitantly. That's when the nightmare really began.

Laying face down on the floor was an all-too-familiar figure with dark black hair, pale skin, and a red changshan. Hong Kong let out a shaky breath he hadn't realized he was holding in. This was the body that fell last night, the one that frightened everyone beyond belief.

China was lying on the ground, dead.

Hong Kong dropped to his knees. England had always told him that crying was showing weakness. But England wasn't there, so he cried and cried until he physically couldn't anymore.

No, Hong Kong thought, China isn't dead.

He told himself this over and over again until he spotted the wine goblet resting in China's hand. The beverage had long since drained from cup and was now staining the floor.

Hong Kong stayed at China's side, holding his mother tight around the middle. He hadn't noticed he was staring at anything until his eyes focused on something. There was a shimmery gold chain around China's neck. Hong Kong lifted the chain, and there was China's old pocket-watch, swinging back and forth.

He closed his eyes and clasped his hand around it. Oh, how he had loved that watch as a child.

The door to China's house swung open, which meant he wasn't alone anymore. Hong Kong pulled at the chain until the clasp broke. He stuffed it into his pocket and looked to the door.

The Koreas and Japan were standing there. North Korea grimaced and South Korea had his face scrunched up like he was trying not to cry. Japan stepped over the debris and put his arms around Hong Kong.

"Oh, Hong Kong, I'm so sorry." Japan said. "We were hoping to tell you before you saw this but," Japan looked at his feet.

Hong Kong nodded and wiped a tear away from his face. "What happened?"

Japan's head jerked up. "We don't exactly know who poisoned him, Hong-kun."

"My money's on Russia doing it." North Korea interjected. "Those two were on the brink of war anyway."

"It seems this attack has caused a world-wide panic." Japan said. "All of the other nations are in lockdown. And, well, Hong Kong,"

Hong Kong lifted his head from where it lay on China's chest. "What?"

"Well, we tried to convince him otherwise, but–"

"China's boss wants you to go stay with England and wait the war out." South Korea said.

Japan cleared his throat. "Thank you Korea. Hong Kong, it's just too dangerous for you to stay in China. You're too important as a resource. And since England is your father…"

Hong Kong looked at China's cold, emotionless face. He brushed a few hairs away from China's eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Hong Kong."

"I know." South Korea and Japan pulled Hong Kong into a tight hug and led him out of the room.

China? What's that you're putting on?

Oh! Hong Kong! It's a pocket watch, but I always thought it looked better around my neck, aru.

Can I see it?

No, it's very fragile and very delicate. I don't really think you're old enough, aru.

Okay.

. . .

That night, sleep wouldn't come fast enough. It wasn't that Hong Kong wanted to sleep; it's just that it would spare him these awful feelings.

He was leaving first thing in the morning, and this was the last night he'd be able to sleep in this room, even though it wasn't exactly his room anymore. All of his belongings had been packed away into suitcases that would be shipped off to England.

Hong Kong closed his eyes tightly and tried not to think of what saying good-bye would be like.

. . .

The next morning was just as awful as Hong Kong predicted. Japan made a large breakfast, but no one ate.

An hour later, Hong Kong was boarding the train that would take him to France, where England would pick him up.

Hong Kong looked behind the crowds of people and billows of smoke coming from the train to his family, all waving at him.

Hong Kong wanted to run to them, hug and hold them and cry in their arms, but such wasn't allowed. Inhaling to avoid sobbing, he turned around and kept walking, trying to shake the feeling that this was the last time he'd see his family alive.

. . .

It was a two week train ride, and by the middle of the first day, Hong Kong was ready to get off. Between kids running around the car and the engine, there was just too much noise.

The train usually took children to Europe when the orphanage they lived at in Asia got too crowded.

Hong Kong felt strangely like one of them, since he hadn't seen England in about fifty years.

Consider yourself lucky that you have a family in Europe to take care of you! Hong Kong could hear Japan telling him. A blood relative who will keep you safe.

Hong Kong spent the rest of the day asleep, trying to make the journey go by faster. When he woke up in the middle of the night, he cried.

He had a home in China. He was throwing that away along with his family.

He clutched the only connection he had to China in his hand and let the rhythmic ticks lure him back to sleep.

. . .

Two weeks later, the train landed in Calais. All of the other children aboard the train raced out to the platform, awed by such a new environment.

Hong Kong had been to this particular platform loads of times before, so he retrieved his luggage and made his way out to the streets. Despite it being mid-October, it was warm and sunny, forcing Hong Kong to shed his coat.

Japan had been right when he said the world was in a lockdown. Even though this was probably the nicest day of the season, there was nobody on the street. The citizens were all looking out of their windows at Hong Kong with wide eyes.

Police were stationed at almost every corner, and all of them were armed. Hong Kong tried to stay away from them as much as possible, but it was hard since there were at least twenty within ten feet of him. One began to yell at Hong Kong in a language that sounded like several hisses and hushing tones.

Hong Kong was ready to respond, when a hand fell on his shoulder. The blood stopped in his veins.

I'm going to die, whoever killed China is here for me and I'm going to die.

"My God, Hong Kong, what've you gotten yourself into, boy?" said a familiar voice.

Hong Kong looked up and saw England, dressed head to toe like a pirate, a bronze spyglass hanging from his belt. Hong Kong had heard that during the Steam Revolution, England had resorted back into piracy, but he hadn't believed it until now.

"England?"

"Who else, Hong Kong?" England turned on his heel and beckoned for Hong Kong to follow. Hong Kong really started to believe England was a pirate when he was led onto one of the largest ships he'd ever seen.

"Who's Victoria?" Hong Kong asked, gesturing towards the name delicately painted across the front of the ship.

"She was, in my opinion, one of the greatest queens ever to serve Britain. Come now." England said cockily. Hong Kong followed him below the deck.

"This shall be your room." England said, extending an arm to keep the door open. The room was nice enough, but not nearly as nice as the room he had back in China. It had a bed in the corner next to a small window, and a desk for studying. There was an oil lamp on the desk along with a bottle of ink and several rolls of parchment. "My room is just down the hall, and the worker's quarters are just another level down. I don't want to see you there under any circumstances, do you understand me? Meals are usually served at seven thirty, although I can understand if you're not hungry as of late, and-bloody Hell!"

There was a loud ripping sound from the dock, and both England and Hong Kong ran up to see what it was. America was standing proudly in front of the dock. When he saw England, he tipped his large cowboy hat.

"Howdy, England. Whatdya think of my new ride?" he said as he nodded towards the plane illegally parked in town square.

"Goddamn it, America! You can't just land that god-awful plane wherever you please!"

"Psh! You're one to talk, England. Plus, it's me we're talking about. France owes me one anyway." America winked at the policeman standing about six feet away. He then directed his attention to Hong Kong. "Hey, I heard about China. I'm sorry." Hong Kong tried to respond, but before he could, America looked at England and blurted out, "Sorry you have to live with this stick in the mud!" he proceeded to laugh like it was the funniest thing he'd heard in a while.

"I will have you know," England began. "Most people wouldn't call a pirate a 'stick in the mud'. Apologize to Hong Kong for being an insolent little−"

"Whatever, England." America said as he strapped his goggles around his face, put his gloves on and hopped in his plane. "Well, I got a lot of ground to cover, countries to check up on. See you next time!" And with that he started the plane and flew out of sight.

"Thank God that's over with. Now, we have to set sail. I must be in Sweden by the midday tomorrow; I have parts for Victoria on hold there." England ushered Hong Kong onto the ship. "By the way, Hong Kong, where did you acquire that necklace you're wearing?"

"Oh, it's not a necklace, it's a-"

"A pocket-watch, yes. And you wear it just like your mother did."

"How do you know-"

"Hong Kong, I gave China that watch just as the Revolution began. I was actually hoping he'd give it to you one day."

"He didn't get that chance, England."

. . .

"I brought you dinner, in case you were hungry." England stood at Hong Kong's door with a plate of food so burnt it was almost inedible. When he was greeted with silence, he walked over to the desk where Hong Kong was scribbling something down on one of the rolls of parchment.

England set the food down. "Hong Kong, how are you doing? Really."

Hong Kong looked up at him with sleep-deprived eyes. "I'm going to find whoever did this to China." He paused and looked at the food with slight disgust. "I'm going to find them and I'm going to kill them."

. . .

Denmark slammed the paper down onto the table and took a long gulp from his beer bottle. "Agh, Norge, I can't believe that idiot America is blaming all these attacks on Iceland."

Norway sat down and nodded. "He thinks the books Iceland writes are master plans to take over the world. And the worst part is that America also thinks we're doing all of the work for him."

"The world we're living is becoming a terrible place, Norge."

Norway rose from his seat and poured himself another cup of coffee. "I know. And while the humans can die, we just have to keep living in it."