Guest Reviews: (thank you guys soo much by the way)

RandomCookie: LOOK I AM CONTINUING YAY glad you liked it

Guest: I actually updated aren't u proud of me here is your moar

Also, thank you to YumeTsukiHikari, Esta Bondevik, A pirates life for Bunny, and AurorMist for the follows! luvr u haert

and thank very much to AurorMist for the favorite it made me quite happy

Disclaimer: Are you kidding? Hetalia owns me

Now, Norway was a heavy sleeper. It took a lot to wake him up, and if he didn't wake up on his own accord with a fresh full night's sleep, especially on his days off, things would get nasty.

Nasty like, your family would have to start planning your funeral if you dared wake him up.

Okay, it didn't usually go that far, but almost everyone knew no one should mess with Norway's sleep.

Everyone except his own damn phone, apparently.

The phone was right next to his ear—Norway must have fallen asleep doing whatever things on his phone—and it played that annoying, extremely loud ringtone that he was a fucking idiot to have added.

Suddenly Norway was awake, but still sleepy, and pissed as hell.

"I fucking swear if it's Denmark I'm going to make him wish he wasn't alive," He groped about for his phone and checked the caller ID. Lillebror. Iceland?! Norway picked it up to groggily chew Iceland out for waking him up.

"What the fuck, Iceland? You know I'd still be asleep you little piece of shit, when I get up I'm going to fucking kill—" Norway fit in a yawn before continuing. "—youuuuu..." He yawned again. "I'll choke you like Denmark, fæn, you'r—"

The sound of Iceland sobbing made him stop in his tracks.

"I-Iceland?" Norway then had a bipolar moment, his grumpy mood instantaneously morphing into concern. "Ice, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

Norway made out bits and pieces of choked Icelandic that made no sense when grouped together. "Iceland, speak clearly. What is wrong?"

"D-dead, but h-h-how Guð minn he's dead Norway how did this happen why did this happen what—"

Iceland had stopped stuttering, but he still neglected to spill one minor detail in his little blurb. "Who is dead, Ice?" Norway asked suspiciously. Had Iceland had a fling with a human or something?

"Hong Kong..."

Wait.

What?

"Iceland, please."

"I am NOT joking, Nore, it was on the news and he had like eight knives in him and God it was so bloody Norway if you fucking think I'm lying look it up okay I don't know how it happened or what even happened really but it's not a joke I'm not a child I'm not Denmark I don't fucking kid around!" Iceland was yelling by the end of this, shocking Norway internally. Even when he was alone he tended to stay emotionless.

"Okay, okay, calm down, I'll look it up. But you and I and everyone else know that it is impossible..." Norway was still skeptical, of course. How in hell was he supposed to believe Hong Kong was dead?

Nevertheless, with much effort, he rose up off the safe comforts of his bed and to his desk where his laptop sat. He sped back to his bed, buried himself under the covers, and set the laptop on his abdomen to warm it up as he turned it on.

"Norway? Have you looked it up?" Iceland's voice wavered out of the phone Norway forgot he hadn't hung up.

"I'm doing it, I'm doing it," the Norwegian muttered as he took his sweet sweet time typing in his username and password with both index fingers.

They both stayed silent for a while as Norway's computer was loading at an irritatingly slow pace. Then Iceland broke the silence. "Noregur?"

"Mm,"

"I-I'm sorry for yelling at you. It was, uh, kinda unnecessary."

Norway let a faint smile escape. "It's okay, Island."

More silence. Norway wanted to throw his computer for being so laggy, but he enjoyed the feel of the smooth undersurface of the laptop slowly heating up on his bare stomach too much.

"Hurry up, Nore," Iceland complained. "It can't possibly take that long,"

"Patience, Ice. It needs to load before I can do anything, doesn't it?"

"Get faster internet."

"Give me the money for that and we'll talk,"

"Fuck you, you don't need to borrow my money anyways,"

"Then don't tell me how to control my internet life."

"You have an internet life?"

"Do not underestimate me. I'm quite hip. I know all the new styles and whatever. Like how it's stylish to be angsty and have blogs complaining about how your life sucks. I can do that too, just like you,"

"...Just shut up and look it up. The internet must have started working by now."

Norway chuckled a bit. "Okay." He typed in 'hong kong dead.' "Murders in Hong Kong, some TV show, the amount of money it takes to house the dead, personification of nation dead—wait,"

"I TOLD YOU!" Iceland's voice screeched from the phone. Norway flinched and hastily turned the speaker off. "I told you he was dead! See what happens when—" His voice was cut off by an incoming call.

"Um, hold on," It was England. Norway pressed answer. "Hello, England?"

"Y-yes, Norway, I won't be able to come to the magic meeting tomorrow," England said in a voice smaller than usual. "Tell that to Romania too, would you?"

"Sure, but why?"

"I-I just can't come."

Norway narrowed his eyes. "Well, I get that, but you need a legitimate reason as to why you can't come."

"Who made up that bloody rule?!"

"You."

"I did not!"

"Um, ja, you did. Remember that one day Romania skipped?"

"Oh."

Iceland cut in, "Is it because of Hong Kong?"

England gasped. "You know about that?"

"Well, it was on the news..."

"Oh, right."

"So that is the reason, right?" Norway interjected.

"Yes," England admitted. "I just—I don't understand. How the ever-loving fuck did he die? The knives shouldn't have just...he would've..."

"I know," Iceland sympathized. "I don't understand either? But, I just want to know, how did the blades...get in? They were all twisted and—"

Norway had tuned out their conversation by reading the articles about the subject of their conversation when he got another call. Forgetting to check the ID, he answered. "Yes?"

"HE'S DEAD ARU"

"Wh—China? How do you have my number?"

"I don't know I just typed in random numbers BUT I NEED SOMEONE TO VENT TO ARU SOB WHYY HIM"

"I KNOW RIGHT"

"IT'S NOT FAIR"

"WHYYY"

"NOOOORWAAAY WHY DID HE DIIIIIE SOB (aru)"

"Why me,"

As the three of them continued their sob fest, Norway decided to send a quick email to Switzerland, the host of the next World Meeting which was to happen in a few days. Hong Kong's death would definitely have to be a topic there.

"Don't you think he'd be at a morgue by now? Or, like, another nation's house? Or an investigation place? Or anywhere else besides rotting in his own damn kitchen?!"

China rolled his eyes at Iceland's antics. "You don't know Taiwan, aru. She'd probably beat the policemen up so they wouldn't take him anywhere."

England raised his eyebrow in question, taking the fag out of his mouth. "But why? Wouldn't it be smart to take him to the police for an investigation so they could figure out what happened, and how or why he died?"

"And why couldn't she beat up the press, too," Iceland mumbled.

"I don't know, okay, aru? You can do the investigating in your long coat anyway. All I know is he'll definitely be in there, aru," China said as they reached upon the door to Hong Kong's apartment.

China, England, and Iceland had come to Hong Kong to check up on the corpse of the once Special Administrative Region. Taiwan and South Korea were already there and had been the first ones to lay eyes on the mutilated Hong Kong. Korea was also the one who had informed the press, much to Taiwan's annoyance, who had only told China and Vietnam.

"You're going to look like an idiot in front of them in that getup," Iceland murmured to England for the about the third time since they'd met up at the Hong Kong International Airport.

England, clothed in a full on stereotypical Sherlock Holmes costume complete with the hat and the magnifying glass (but a cigarette instead of a pipe), took major offense to that comment. He'd only come this way because it was, as he'd put it, 'proper attire to investigate the cause of the death, if it hasn't been already investigated.' But Iceland seemed to be the only one who cared how he was dressed. "Sherlock Holmes was not an idiot at all, not by a long shot! Why, he was a master—"

Iceland cut him off. He wasn't in the mood for a lesson on British detectives. "Okay, okay, whatever. But they will be staring at you,"

China rang the doorbell multiple times before Taiwan finally opened the door with a tear-soaked face. "Oh! Gege!" she exclaimed, sniffing. She surprised China by jumping in for a hug. It was quick though, as she let go to acknowledge the two guest European nations, one for some reason in abnormal, old-timey detective clothes. "And Iceland and, um, England." They both nodded in greeting, Iceland nudging England in an I-told-you-so way as Taiwan raised her eyebrow a bit at England. "C-come in,"

They somberly followed Taiwan to the kitchen, and was immediately embraced by the bad stench of decease that was only worsening as time flew by. Then their eyes moved to see the body of Hong Kong and each of them gasped.

Of course, England and Iceland had seen the one gruesome picture the press managed to take before Taiwan brutally kicked them out, but seeing it in real life was so, so much worse. The picture had mainly been a head shot, with blood around and the top of his shredded chest. But this was the real thing. His shirt was torn to nothing. The entirety of his chest had been mangled, skin overturned, flesh carved into this way and that. One could see the shining of his wet organs as they lay limp, partially covered by chunks of discarded meat and blood, which had been splashed over the length of his body and all around it, even coming out of his back. Every handle-less blade had been taken out of his body except for one, which was still stuck in his ribcage in an odd twisted angle. His heart and lungs had been sliced across and the heart was now oozing brown blood, though it pumped no more. His bones stuck out at places, tinted with blood and organ juice. One had also apparently found his neck, which had been half sliced, so as not to cut off his head, but leave the throat a mass of dripping blood and awry tendons and sinew. It didn't look precise at all, more like knives had been shot at him from every which way, tearing into his skin and flesh and organs at high speed.

Iceland averted his eyes, clutching his sides. England wanted to retch for the second time. China ran to the bathroom and did just that. Taiwan simply looked down and didn't look at the body.

After China had finished regurgitating his lovely supper, who but South Korea came bounding down the stairs. After spotting the lightheaded Chinese man, he immediately went to hug him.

"ANIKI ANIKI LOOK AT WHAT HAPPENED TO HONG KONG DA ZE ISN'T IT HORRIBLE LOOK LOOK"

"I'VE LOOKED ARU I DON'T WANT TO LOOK AGAIN"

England spared another glance at the body of his former colony and took his Sherlock hat off. "I don't know why this is hitting me so hard. I've seen far worse in all my years, but because this was someone who was close to me...I haven't felt this way for a while..."

Korea gazed at England's costume. "Are you a detective?" he asked. "Will you figure out who murdered Hong Kong?"

The Brit gave Iceland a triumphant glance before turning to Korea. "Well, yes, I will be investigating. But, we don't know if it's murder or not,"

"Well, what else could it be?" The normally cheerful Taiwan spoke up. "The blades wouldn't have just flown up and accidentally stabbed him!"

"Hmm," England murmured as he surveyed Hong Kong's body again without gagging. "Well, I'll check anyway," He bent down near the corpse, held his breath so as to not breathe into that repugnant odor, and took out his magnifying glass. He simply peered into it as he waved it around Hong Kong's injuries.

"Are you kidding me aru? You think that's going to help?!" China yelled in exasperation.

England looked up. "He was killed seventeen hours and twenty-three minutes ago. By, who, I can't figure out, as no fingerprints or any clue of a murderer were found on the subject but his own fingerprints and Korea and Taiwan's in that time span. Korea and Taiwan touched him three hours later, after the initial death had already happened. And it's highly unlikely that it was a suicide, because he'd died at the sixth knife and could not have put the four other blade in himself. This is a most unusual case. Do any of you know what he was doing before this?"

The other nations all looked at each other. "No," Taiwan said slowly. "I don't think so,"

"Wait, am I the only one who doesn't understand how the hell he was able to find that out by looking at Hong Kong through a magnifying glass?!" Iceland asked, incredulous. Then he seemed to realize something. "Wait, he was murdered?"

"Magic," England explained briskly as he brushed off his coat, which was now lightly stained with blood. "And yes, it was a murder, but I cannot possibly fathom how it happened. It shows no signs of a murder, but it could be nothing else. Accidents just don't happen like that."

Iceland's expression hardened and he clenched his fists. He started muttering things in Icelandic which no one could translate but they decided not to ask.

"I can't believe he was murdered da ze!" Korea wailed. "When we figure out who it is, they will feel my wrath da ze!"

"Intimidating," China muttered.

"Soo...what do we do now?" Taiwan asked. "Do we just leave him here? Well, he's a nation. So, he'll heal, right...?"

"Not sure..." England murmured. "But, the World Meeting is the day after tomorrow. I guess we'll figure it out then..."

"Until then, aru, let's just leave him here," China wrinkled his nose. "I don't think anyone wants to touch him, right, aru?"

"Mm hmm," Everyone mumbled in consent. They all gave the broken body a sad look, then parted off to their different ways. Taiwan had already decided that she'd stay here to watch over Hong Kong until the World Meeting, just in case. England, China, Iceland, and South Korea went to the airport, and Taiwan made herself at home in the spare room Hong Kong always kept for her upstairs.

None of them noticed Hong Kong's arm twitch a little.

[A/N]: fæn - 'fuck' in Norwegian

guð minn - 'my God' in Icelandic

laptops: the ultimate abdomen warmers

i actually feel really guilty that i'm writing this and not working on my other story. but oh well

i've never seen an actual mangled body and I wasn't sure what to describe so I just typed up a lot of bullshit gore

wow they mentioned denmark three times and he wasnt even there or relevant ok

WHO OF YOU KNEW THAT IT WAS HONG KONG WHO DIED ANSWER HONESTLY IN A REVIEW

i didn't really like writing the part after Norway's for some reason (i hope you can tell by the quality) but it was necessary

so next one is the world meeting where they get actual shite done yay

also it may turn into actual crack haha I just don't want this story to be too crazy and out of line and impossibly OOC because I myself have a hard time reading those types of fics. Iceland's gonna be fairly OOC though

rEvIEw plEAsE

~gIrAffE