AN: Read. Enjoy. Review. :)
A Very Asian New Year
Japan fidgeted slightly in his seat, fingering the seatbelt clasped around his waist. He had never been completely comfortable with flying and never truly enjoyed aeroplanes. First there was the takeoff, then all the turbulence then the loud passengers and the nauseous churning of his stomach when he tried to drink some calming tea… Japan pursed his lips feeling bile bubble up his throat.
He was the State of Japan, Nihon-koku, he couldn't be overpowered by a simple elevation above sea-level-
"Japan?"
Japan snapped his eyes upwards, thankful for the distraction, before grimacing.
"What are you doing here?! I didn't expect to see you- I thought you'd be all high and mighty and sit in your wooden house under pink flowers while eating all those weird oranges, ani?"
"It is good to see you too," he replied thickly.
Be polite, his mind chanted, refrain yourself. Self control is vital and he couldn't lose it because his hyperactive brother was suddenly stuck on the same plane as him. Plus, the chance the Korean would end up sitting on the seat next to him was next to none- the plane was filled and the assignment of seats was strict- so he might as well not waste any energy for something that was bound to pass.
"Aniki invited you for New Years, right?" Korea beamed. "He invited me too! I'm telling you, aniki can't survive without me close by! His calender's completely off though… the lunar calendar didn't even start. Probably his old age crawling up on him- but Korea's here and there's nothing to fear!"
"Uh, Korea-san," Japan caught the posing Korean's attention, "you're blocking the people."
Behind Korea was a long line of Koreans who had just boarded the transit plane to China, every single one of them held off by their own nation. Korea blinked for a minute, finally registering all the noise of arguing people, pointing fingers and harassed looking stewardesses before plopping himself comfortably on the chair right next to Japan.
"Korea-san?" Japan tried to stifle the worried hammering of his heart. "Is this your designated seat?"
"Hm?" Korea looked up from where he was plugging his beats into his Samsung, "what do you mean?"
"Your seat," Japan pointed at the seat number, "does the ticket assign you this seat?"
Korea pulled out a crumpled ticket from his I-love-Seoul hoodie and smoothed it out, carelessly handing it to Japan, "if you wanted something touched by the amazing me you could've just asked."
Japan bit his lip to hide a retort and found the seat number printed in a small square by the corner. 24C. Japan looked back at the number that was stuck to the armrest of seat that Korea had carelessly thrown himself on and read a clear 10B. He handed the ticket back to Korea with his best stern expression.
"Korea-san, this is not your seat."
"Of course it's my seat! I'm sitting on it!"
"No, it's not. Your ticket says 24C, this is not your seat."
"But I'm sitting on it," Korea rolled his eyes.
"But you're not allowed to."
"Who said I'm not allowed to?"
"The law."
"What law- sesangi! Beak Ji Young is filming a bed scene?! How's Jung Suk Won taking it?" Korea's fingers whizzed on the screen of his S3, his mouth shamelessly gaping.
Japan stifled an annoyed groan. He was not going to suffer 2 whole hours with Korea- he'd rather sit in a room filled with pasta-deprived Italies and a drunk Germany than sit with Korea. Hell, he could take Greece and Turkey on the brink of a fist fight than what was sure to come up.
"Korea-san, you are taking someone's rightful seat-"
"K-pop rues J-pop any day, I know you want to admit it! Listen, listen- let's see your bands get addidas advertisement, Nihon!" Korea laughed before forcing his screaming beats onto Japan's head.
Japan pulled away but the seatbelt reigned him in place and Korea- seatbeltless and uncaring- stood and pushed Japan against the seat, ignoring the surprised stares he was receiving from all the passengers, and thrust the beats back on, securing them with his hands as he pushed against Japan's ears. The music was blaring and Japan felt his head spin. He couldn't even understand the screaming, high-pitched words of a language he barely had a grasp on-
Oh god, he was going to faint.
He felt his eardrums burst. He could unfocusedly see Korea's laughing face, talking rapidly yet he could not hear the words.
It felt like he was drowning- then all of a sudden, he was up on the surface taking a grateful breath of air. The beats were off his ears and he collapsed back on the seat, stifling a small moan.
"Sir, the seatbelt sign is still on and you have to sit down…"
Japan never thought that a stewardess of all people would one day be his hero. He registered a quick mental note to dedicate a whole manga series to her before Korea's shearing laughter cut through his thoughts once more- laughter that made him want to pull his hair out. His ears already felt as though they had been thoroughly shredded and the added air pressure of the elevated aeroplane made him want to barf.
"Sir, please head back to your own seat-"
Japan perked up. Was it coming true? Was he going to be completely saved?
"-your ticket says you have to head to 24C, I'll accompany-"
"No! You don't understand," Korea jerked closer to the stewardess, whispering in her ear loud enough for Japan to hear, "he's an old man in denial- he thinks he's a ninja. I have to stay here or else he'll go berserk while the plane flies. Can't you see the tense shoulders? The empty stare? The wrinkles?" He winked at Japan before solemnly looking at the stewardess.
Who did Korea think he was playing at? A stupid story like that-
"Oh my god," the stewardess brought a hand to her mouth. "Just like Raizo in Ninja Assasin? When he goes off with Kiriko-"
"-and ends up killing all those who stand in his path. He even uses the ninja technique to heal his own wounds," he gave the pale stewardess a dark look, "he's indestructible and only I can save these people."
Why did he feel this was going to turn very, very badly?
The stewardess ran off and Korea, a bright triumphant smile on his face, threw himself back into the seat by Japan.
"See? I bet you wish you had my amazing thinking skills, maji?"
Seconds passed before two large security men hovered over the seats where both nations were sitting: Japan looking deathly pale and Korea head-banging to his K-pop. They scanned their sharp eyes over the two before locking them with Japan. Air pressure, airplanes, confined spaces and Korea… what had he done to deserve all of this?
"Honda Kiku?" their deep voices rumbled.
"Yes…"
Suddenly, their burly hands shot out and gripped his shoulders, forcefully hoisting him up on his feet. Japan threw a horrified look at Korea who had his eyes closed, still lost in his world of music, before trying to tug his arms out of their grip. However, they tightened their hold, their fingers threatening to burst his veins, and pulled him down the aisle.
"You have been apprehended for suspicious, unstable activity," one of them said. "You will not endanger the lives of these innocent people."
Suddenly, an exuberant round of applause sounded around the plane from the awed passengers. Little children stood up from their seats, their eyes glassy with amazement from the epic heroism that was radiating from the scene in front of them.
"This is all a misunderstanding- please- I don't even know who that man is-"
The men tugged him even harder and soon, he couldn't even catch up with their pace. If only he had done the training Germany set out for him properly- if only he had paid proper attention, maybe then he would've been able to squeeze out of this situation. He craned his head- what the hell was Korea doing while he was dragged off from the seat that was right next to him-
He was clapping.
The idiot was clapping.
"Uri nara mansae!" he cheered, pumping his fist into the air. "Uri nara mansae, da-ze!"
He jaw quivered and he bit down a war cry.
He was going to turn Imperial and slaughter the lot of them.
But he contained himself. He was Nihon-koku…
He spent the next two whole hours in the front, surrounded by those two bodyguards, a psychiatrist, a doctor and a very flustered flight attendant.
He stumbled out of the plane almost an hour after it had been emptied of all the passengers. The two bodyguards literally hauled him off the ground and walked him to the security office where he was further questioned, questioned even more, had health checks done, had security checks done, got his passport photocopied, got his visa checked, got the prints of all his fingers, had a tongue print, had an eye-check, had his ID processed, was questioned further before they let him go.
Damn you Korea, he hissed, damn you.
He wrenched his suitcase from the floor and dragged it with him, not caring as it bounced on the steps of the staircases, not caring as it tripped the rushing people in Beijing Capital International Airport, not caring as it got stuck in doors, got bitten by puppies and ran on the foot of a couple too close to each other to be decent- youth, completely improper these days- until he finally reached the departing doors.
Who cares about China's whole 'New Year' get together? He was going to the farthest place from Beijing, in a small rickety hotel where no one would find him, and book himself the next flight to Tokyo.
"Japan!"
That voice.
He turned and saw a hyperactive Korea waving ecstatically from where he stood by the departures, his suitcase lounging beside him, his beats hung around his neck making him look like the epitome of causality. Japan marched towards him, his suitcase rumbling behind him darkly, and his clenched his fingers ready to sock the Korean in the face. Hard.
"What took you so long? It's so not cool to keep people waiting! Aren't you all about manners and all-"
"YOU-"
"Yo."
Japan clamped his mouth shut, steam building inside of him like an unstable cooker, his face scorching. Craning his head stiffly to the side, he locked eyes with the bored orbs of Hong Kong who loitered by the metal banister, arms crossed over his neon shirt that was too bright to be legal. Great, his grimaced mentally, now he remembered why he always avoided family visits.
"Hong Kong-san," he stiffly bowed his head in quick greeting. "Good to see you."
"Same, I guess," Hong Kong shrugged nonchalantly.
Korea slung an arm around the Chinese and at that moment, Japan noticed how much taller the two were. Great. Another bright observation on his increasingly terrible day.
"Come on Japan! You're already late, so don't delay us any further! Nuisance~!" sang Korea teasingly.
"Excuse me, but you're the one-"
"You're excused," Hong Kong smirked.
Japan flushed, his poorly concealed glare aimed at the two.
"I am merely saying that if it wasn't for your story then I wouldn't have been needlessly apprehended-"
"Did you hear SHINee's latest album? I showed it to Japan and he went crazy for it!" Korea fumbled with his S3 and he pulled the Chinese along with him, "also G-Dragon's making a comeback that's making America go wild! Have any idea how I can pull that hairstyle…"
Japan gripped his suitcase with tense fingers, watching their retreating backs, and felt this sharp sting in his chest. He didn't know what it was, but it hurt. Who cares, he thought as he walked off towards the taxi's stationed by the front. Who cares? He was going to head back to Tokyo tomorrow anyway-
"Hey! Japan! It's this way! Did you go blind or something?" Korea's voice had this amazing ability to tear through an overpopulated crowd of incoherent voices.
He tilted his head slightly. What was he on about? He had just been on the most uncomfortable plane ride yet, been delayed for almost three extra hours, had to suffer through multiple checks and terrorist assumptions before finding the most annoying people on the planet being the first to 'greet' him. He was not in a good mood.
Before he said a word back, Hong Kong materialized by his side and pulled the suitcase from his grip.
"Turning into a gramps like China are we?" he said.
Though it was meant to be light teasing, Japan could hear a slight maliciousness in the teen's voice. He ignored it, he guessed he just didn't understand the youth these days after all, yet spluttered indignantly when Hong Kong simply walked off without further explanation.
"Wait, where are you going? The cabs are this way-"
"Hong Kong came to pick me up," Korea yelled as he threw in his suitcase into a small car parked close by. "He's driving us to, aniki! I thought you were smart, Japan- all your sushi getting to your head? Oh well, intelligence originated in Korea!"
"Please, Hong Kong-san, I am very capable of finding my way to China by myself-"
He didn't want to get stuck in a car with both of them. The awkwardness would soar to the skies and he didn't think he could stomach anymore of Korea than he already did in the plane. Knowing the Korean, he'd probably get Japan thrown into a prison cell for being called a ninja on the loose! He needed to get as far away as possible from them- maybe if he called up Germany with an SOS he'd be saved-
His suitcase was thrown in and he was shoved into the backseat, the door slamming surely behind him and locked. What was this blatant kidnapping?!
Korea shuffled into the passenger seat in the front while Hong Kong slipped into the driver's seat, starting up the engine.
And now Hong Kong was going to drive?!
God, what did he do? What did he do wrong to deserve all this-
"AEEHH!" he screeched as the car jerked backwards, almost slamming into a hoard of tourists that scattered away like ants.
"Sorry," Hong Kong said offhandedly, "wrong gear."
Suddenly the car jerked forward, running over the concrete and Japan fumbled for the seatbelt. The engine roared and the car jerked once more- throwing the Japanese against the window- before it pelted over the concrete, the view blurring.
"Hong Kong!" Japan's voice was an octave higher. "The people-"
Suddenly, music blared from the radio, pounding against Japan's head.
"PSY!" Korea exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "NA JE NUN NO MAN KUM TA SA RO UN GU RON SA NA YE-
Hong Kong slammed into a trash can which bounced dangerously on the screen before flying overhead, scattering rubbish all over them like putrid rain.
" BA MI O MYON SHIM JA NGI TO JYO BO RI NUN SA NA YE-"
Hong Kong rolled down his window and, to Japan's horror, coolly lifted out his hand and finger a screaming policeman.
"A RUM DE WO SA RANG SU RO WO G RE NO, HEY! GU RE BA RO NO, HEY!"
Hong Kong suddenly swerved around a sharp bend and raucously knocked into the traffic cones before driving down the opposite lane. He sharply jerked the car away from oppositely driving cars, their drivers swearing at him in harsh Chinese.
"A REUM DE WO SA RAN SU RO WO GURE NO, HEY! GU RE BA RO NO, HEY!"
Japan gripped his seatbelt. He was going to die. He was going to die.
A woman leapt to the side, falling on the asphalt as to avoid the disastrous driving, her suitcase forgotten in the middle of the road as Hong Kong pelted against it, the car bouncing like a ball. Japan cushioned his head with his hands just in time before it slammed against the roof of the car while Korea rolled down his window and waved his arms freely in the air.
"JI GUM BU TO GAL DE KA JU GA BOL KA-"
Another wrench and the car broke through a chained, blocked road before flying over the concrete and swerving into the highway.
"OPPAN GANGNAM STYLE!"
Japan unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, rubbed his stiff neck and leaned back.
Two hours passed and they were stuck in traffic.
After Hong Kong tore through the roads and endangered the lives of more than fifty people, he was finally stopped by the inescapable and infamous Chinese traffic. Initially, Japan thanked every single ancestor he could think of for this blessing. Two hours later, he wished for an open road and a safe drive through it. He could've sworn his behind had flattened by now.
The windows were rolled open, letting in cold, piercing weather and the radio was screaming Arctic Monkeys.
While the two 'conversed' in the front, they didn't exchange a single word with him nor he with them. He caught Hong Kong's eyes looking at him from the rear view mirror a few times and Korea turn back to catch a quick look at him, but nothing more than that.
He wished he was back home, by himself, or with Germany and Italy at least. Though they were westerners, completely different from himself, they grew to become close to him. If anything, they were what he would call friends and even family at times. However, his own true family- the rest of the Asian clan that shared his ancient blood- seemed like strangers at that moment.
Seemed so distant.
Seemed so…
"Goddamn the traffic laws," Hong Kong muttered.
Japan looked up from where he was lazily scrolling through his flip-phone before he was thrown to the side once more. He could feel his blood pressure rising and the dread of what was happening creep up his spine once more. Taking a peak out the window, to his terror, he could not see the cars any more. Heck, he couldn't even see the road.
"This is what I call taking a breath of fresh air!"
Korea had his body half outside the window as he waved his arms in the air, screaming in the cluster of trees that surrounded them.
"Hong Kong-kun, w-where are we-"
"You are currently driving on an unregistered road. Please turn left to get to the main highway-" the navigator spoke up.
Clusters of trees and growth squeezed became narrower and narrower- squeezing in- and boulders acted as ignored road bumps that made the car recoil. A high scream- Japan felt his bones grate- and Korea was tugged in by Hong Kong before he was beheaded by a low branch of some ancient tree.
"I owe you a life debt now! That is so cool- I thought it only happens in movies!" Korea laughed, as he sat back, throwing his legs on the headboard like they were cruising.
"Totally," Hong Kong nodded as he pushed down on the accelerator, leaning forward slightly, "You can so get me 100 embarrassing pictures of Gramps to make it up to me, and 5 different videos of him when he throws his back."
"You're cruel!" laughed Korea.
The car suddenly stopped and Japan was slammed against the seat in front of him before his seatbelt reigned him back, banging his head against his own seat. He shakily gripped the armrest, his mind on the brink of a mental breakdown as his eyes pricked with uncontrollable fear. He wanted to run out- he had enough- he wanted to run out-
"Xiang! What was that for?!" Korea yelled.
His bottom was hung between the seat and the car floor, his legs hoisted high above him. He tried to push himself up- failing a few times- before rolling to the side, poking the teen on the shoulder. Hong Kong was frozen in his seat, his eyes eerily wide and shocked, his mouth limp on his pale, pale face. Japan felt the panic inside him reside, slowly die down, before slight concern crept on him.
"I almost slammed into a hedgehog," Hong Kong breathed.
He threw his head against the steering wheel and gave a shaky sigh of relief.
"Thank goodness I stopped. Offending their demon souls is bad luck."
Japan bit back a scream. These idiots were sending him off the edge.
Korea's expression was a dumbfounded shock of disgust. His eyebrows were raised, his mouth was skewed with his tongue on the tip of lolling and his eyes screamed 'are you really that stupid?'.
"What about the million other animals you drove over?" Japan hissed irritably.
Hong Kong gave him a withering glare from the rear view mirror and Japan held his annoyed stare. Who did this child think he was playing? He had gone through a hellish day and he'd be damned if he'd bend over for a kid who couldn't keep his car in a straight lane to try and up him. Korea shrunk slightly from the tension, his eyes running from one Asian to the next before laughing uneasily.
"How about we keep going… don't want to keep aniki waiting, you know!"
Hong Kong pressed on the accelerator, his eyes still boring into Japan's, before purposely swerving the car even more harshly than usual around the small hedgehog (that innocently blinked at the tension that was rolling off the car) before continuing his way through the forestry they had somehow found themselves in. Japan sat back, stifling his sigh, and gripped the armrest tightly with both unease and agitation.
He really hated family gatherings.
The ride was slightly smoother than the previous journey- there was a lack of sudden stops- before Hong Kong was on an actually road once again. Japan almost let go of a thankful prayer before Hong Kong steered off the road once more. Did he do this on purpose?
However, Japan noticed a small house appearing in the distance in the midst of a great expansion of soft, white snow and far behind it, stepped mountains that were unmistakably paddy fields of rice that were now coated in the winter. They were far out into the country…
Had he been by himself he would've drove straight to China's apartment in Beijing and find the place empty, his trip wasted, his body sore and cold and his night filled with trying to check into filled hotels. He bit his lip. He never knew he'd silently thank the lord for seeing Korea or being driven by Hong Kong. Hong Kong suddenly bounced over fallen logs and Japan quickly withdrew the prayer. That kid was really pushing it…
Hong Kong sped down the dirt road- dangerously slippery- Korea egging him to drive over the hills. Seeing Japan's pale face, Hong Kong smirked and steered down the snow, speeding as if he was driving a Ferarri in broad daylight and not China's Geely Panda down slippery slopes of ice. Soon enough, the car skidded to a stop and the locks were clicked open.
He pushed the door open- he'd have a proper thanking tonight for actually surviving- before he collapsed outside. His legs were shaky and his stomach churned.
Oh no- he was not going to vomit. He was not going to vomit. He was not-
Thunk.
He found his suitcase in front of him. Looking up, squinting, Hong Kong's tall form towered over him.
"I'm sure you can, like, carry your own bag," he smirked before walking off, his keys dangling playfully from his fingers.
Calm down, Japan, he chided himself. He's just a conceited teenager going through a very difficult stage; it is completely improper and immature to get worked up over something so trivial. He staggered to a stand, gripping the Geely for support before he was confident enough to let go. He gripped his suitcase and started to make his way to the house in front of him-
"Aniki!" Korea screamed, running across porch.
China stood, horror-stricken, by the door, his face the picture of disbelief.
"HONG KONG! What did you do to my car?!"
Car? Japan turned back and noticed, for the first time, that the shining white Geely Panda that had picked them up earlier was now scratched, stained, dented and detached. Even the plate number was missing.
Korea paid no attention to the steaming car, throwing himself on China and rubbing at the smaller man's chest wildly. China, caught between a hyperactive Korean and a completely destroyed car, tried to yell at both Korea and the indifferent Hong Kong at the same time resulting in complete nonsensical exclamations, and all Japan could do was stand and watch the maniacal display of 'welcome'.
He was stuck with them for three whole days?
