The title fo this chapter is actually 家. It means family or home, depends on the next word. I love Chinese sometimes.

Chapter 9

Japan stepped out from the car when the door was opened by one of his bodyguard. He left his shirt in China's place; that's why he went to the branded branch of the most prestigious clothing brand in the world to get a change.

He was only wearing his blazer, but he looked wonderful nonetheless. He himself is a beautiful man; and he knew it. He loved beautiful thing, and above all, himself. He acknowledged that only the prettiest could surround him, and the stars of his clubs were the ones he individually picked based on the beauty alone.

Japan looked at his watch. He had another hour before the weekly director meeting. He was the president director of Honda Corporation, company that mainly deals in cars and property. He inherited the company from his long deceased uncle. He knew people didn't approve of him becoming the president in such a tender age, but now they didn't have the chance to revoke because Japan has proved himself to be a reliable, astounding boss. Yet one wrong move could make him fall into their traps. So Japan was always in tight position. He knew it, and he wasn't a stupid man, so he built that club just in order to gain power. Yes, it was one hobby of him to collect beautiful and exotic things, furthermore use it for his future benefits. He had clients from many, many big companies and enterprises, people would think twice before cross his path.

He was proud of his collection. Norway, for example, the second best in his club, was an orphan he bought from child trafficker. He was beautiful, albeit silent. And many liked the trait. Lithuania and Poland, the exact polar opposite, actually attracted many men with threesome secret kinks. And China, of course. He was the best. Who would hate a beautiful, golden jaguar?

He knew China was an unreliable liability. He could act like a good boy and be a slut in the next moment. Granted, when Japan found the boy, he thought China was underage. The boy was too small for his age. And having growing alone in the street has armed him with many good tricks to survive. He could do anything in order to survive. And his physique further increased the odds on him. Yet Japan held one thing that China wouldn't betray. He gave the small kitten a sense of ownership. He put himself as China's owner, a controller. China was an independent, strong boy, yet he was tired of being a stray. He wanted to be owned. That's why he accepted Japan's offer.

Japan had grown some kind of fondness to the man. And when he saw what Russia did to China, Japan actually felt a real, uncontrolled kind of rage.

Russia would get his revenge for sure.

Good thing Japan has a lot of good source of information.


China sat silent on the sofa, while England tried to make himself more useful. He cleaned the whole floor, vacuuming and making the bed. China ignored him most of the time, yawning and sleeping and then woke up again but never leaved the sofa. Korea has signed to England that the sofa was China's special place, so he shouldn't clean the thing unless China asked him to.

England had finished cleaning, leaving nothing to do. So he walked around, smiling awkwardly, feeling like he was trying to tame a wild animal. China; upon realizing England's discomfort; trailed him with his eyes, yet he himself sat immobile on the sofa.

"Arthur…"

"Yes?" England rigidly turned back, feeling finally China called him after the uncomfortable silent, just to see a child sitting and folding himself on the sofa. His hair had naturally dried (China slept with wet hair), and his body was covered by with bathrobe. China looked so fragile and young. Unlike his usual self.

"What is it like to have a brother? A little brother, aru?"

"Brother..? Do you have a brother?"

"I… I had. He left with my mom. I haven't met him ever since, aru." China smiled. "I don't know where they are now, aru."

"Your mother?"

China laughed. "DO you think I come from a bitch, aru? Well, it is half true, yes, but I do have a small brother. His name is Hong, he was… 3 when they left. I think. I missed them, aru."

"… Well, my little brother was annoying. He was spoiled and too easy-going. But he is smart… well, he is smarter than me. He likes IT and computer and hacking and stuff, just like my father."

"Oh? You have father, aru?"

"I come from human parents, yes, just like you." England chuckled. "They divorced some years ago but they are fine. How about yours… were they divorced too?"

"No. They were never married aru. Mom left with Hong when father was gone to drink. She told me to stay with my father. Fair enough, aru. She left… with Hong. I remember that Hong was so cute, aru! I think you think so too, right? That's why you bought that drink for your brother years ago, right, aru? Little brothers are adorable, cute, loveable boy, aren't they?" China smiled and waved his hand animatedly, somehow trying to be cheerful yet England felt it was rather embarrassing to watch the fail attempt.

England smiled softly, nodding. China stopped smiling and buried his face between his legs, like an ostrich.

That was the end of the only conversation they had that day before England returned to his home. As he closed the door, England once again felt like the Chinese's apartment wasn't actually his (China's) home.


France came home and put off his shoes inside the cabinet. It was a pathetic day, being watched by a robot called Korea. He was watching France like a 24 hours video surveillance. Even to the toilet. France sighed as he sat on the sofa. It was tiring.

"Welcome home, papa."

France smiled involuntary at the small boy. The small boy looked like him, with blonde hair and blue eyes, carrying a teddy bear in his small hands, wearing white pyjamas. His son was walking as fast as he could, towards the sofa. But Canada couldn't walk fast (and normal) because his brain abnormality. And the old nanny was holding his shoulder to make sure Canada didn't fall down.

"I am home, mon cherie."

France scooped the small boy into his arms. Canada giggled and buried himself in his father's neck. The lady who had been taking care of his son smiled at him.

"I take my leave then."

"Yes, thank you very much for today."

The old woman smiled back and went from the door. Canada giggled.

"Papa! Papa!"

"Yes, have you been a good boy?"

"Papa!" Canada exclaimed, before went limp in his arms. France patted the small boy softly. It was another attack. His son was born with Parkinson's Disease and Brain abnormality. He was halfway between autism and Schizophrenia. It was hard for France to raise the boy ever since his mother died when giving birth to him. He might be a womanizer, but his wife was the only one he mourned deep inside his heart. It wasn't easy for his to accept the fact that his wife died in birth labour. But never once he thought that his son was un-cute. Canada was his most important thing in the world, and that's why he took the risk to swindle Russia's money.

Because medical bill sucked.

"…Papa!" Canada smiled again, regained his consciousness back. His hand move uncontrollably beside his body, and France kissed his son's hair softly.

"Yes, mon cher. Papa is here."


Russia came home to a cold, modern looking room. He lived in the uppermost pentagon of Braginski's Building. His father and mother had another pentagon somewhere else in the world and his sister was married off to another family, so she counted as off. Russia started to live alone since Ukraine married 8 years ago.

He flicked through the TV channel before stripped himself naked. He walked to the bathroom, immersing himself in hot water tub. It was already prepared by his housekeeper beforehand. Dinner was ready on the table, Russia just need to reheat it in microwave. He was used to this arrangement ever since he was small.

That day was just fine. He just got another deal and also some pending conformations from his father, but as the current head of Braginski's Group he handled most of the other stuff perfectly. He was excellent, in his own innocently-cruel way. He knew what to do, his instinct told him what to do, and he controlled everything that happened around him.

Well, maybe not all, but most of it. That afternoon a bill came from Japan. He was fined because he hurt China the night before. Russia smiled. Japan sent him a bill and a warning, but Russia couldn't be bothered about that. He knew that Japan wouldn't dare to cut him off as he was the most important client. Who else could afford to call China with that ridiculous rate? Not that he mind, of course. China was a first rate prostitute.

China did make him angry yesterday. He was clearly calling somebody else's name when they were copulating. It was intolerable for the Russian's ego. Not like he like China that much…

But yes, who could resist those eyelashes, with the same length as his own long one, and they fluttered against each other when they were kissing. One more thing that made China seemed special was his golden eyes. It looked like moonlight, shining but not bright. Something shaded the colour, but still it was prettier than any other eyes he ever encountered in his arms. Russia was raised in an environment where rarity is exceptional.

Talking about exceptional, he remembered the investment plan brought by France. Russia smiled. His instinct told him that it was fraud. The prospect was just ridiculous. But that feminist small fry from the financial planner company seemed dead set for it and Russia heard that he had contacted China to persuade him. Russia giggled as he buried himself in the water. Maybe this would be fun to play. He could make China the guarantor, and then if something went wrong, he would have China all to himself. Then he could play and use and be rough and destroy China without Japan interfering like now. The sum was not significant, but wasn't that small either. Russia stared at his hand. Is China worth the game?

He stared at the full-wall glass window panels, which curtain was open and showed the view of the whole city. It was beautiful. Lights were shining from every sides of the city that never sleeps. Buildings with their decorations and shapes filled the shadow with nice dynamics. It was beautiful because he saw it from the top of the highest building in the city. Russia smiled as he though about how it made him the highest of all, i.e. a king.

Everyone bowed to him. Everyone would kill to become one with Braginski's Group. Everyone would kiss his shoes if he tells them too.

But he still gritted his teeth, something was missing. He was there, looking at the beautiful view, but he wanted someone to share it to. He wanted someone whom he could brag and spoiled and be spoiled in return. His sister used to be one, until she went away years ago.

He was alone, and the water was cold.

He decided to play. It was his ancestor's blood who founded the game Russian's roulette. No pain no gain. He smiled as his own reflection in the mirror.

Ah, Ah! I… Ivan.. I love you, aru.

Russia covered himself with towel and went out. Maybe he should call China.


England came home to find the house was in a mess. Perfect mess. Like a sudden tsunami came over and spitted trashes on every inch of the floor. He knew who to blame.

"ALFRED!"

"…. Hey, you are back." America came out from the living room, coke in hand, while the other hand tried to balance himself when walking through the sea of trash. "Just perfect timing! Can you help me clean, Iggy? I am sorry about this, we got carried away and the party when out of control, but people had gone home, so…"

"YOU BLOODY…!"

"And oh, Dad said that he doesn't need his dinner. He was eating out. Had a date, I think."

"I don't care about him, but this is too much! Bloody…"

"Iggy, I have sent half a million to your account." America smirked. "You can buy the Pirate of Caribbean special DVD box set now! And those Nip Tuck series~"

"What the hell?"

"We lost a million this afternoon, but we get back almost all of it again. Edward is upstairs, doing the new calculation."

"And you are here because you want to enjoy your coke, huh? Just like you, Alfred. Lazy bum. Help me clean!"

America smiled. "Just like the usual uptight Arthur~ You don't believe I get the money don't you? Anyway, I am waiting for you, Iggy. I want the coal dinner. Welcome back."

England stopped moving and smiled. His brother stood there, smirking boyishly as usual. A familiar image.

He is an adorable, loveable little brother, right?

China's voice permeated through his senses. England smacked himself for thinking that oriental every chance he got. But he did feel warmth spread through his chest. Suddenly he felt having America (albeit the stupidity, annoying personality) as his brother was not bad at all.

"I am back. Let's clean together, shall we?"

America nodded and started to collect the trashes. England suddenly have this suspicion that America was indeed waiting for him just for cleaning the house.

"Iggy! Your cheek is blue!" America laughed, snapped England back from his train of thoughts. "What happened?"

"Oh, this?" England touched his cheek. It was not as stiff as in the morning, but it did feel a little swollen. "I was punched."

"By who?"

"My customer. That Ivan Braginski."

"… I'll revenge for you, Iggy."

"Ha! What do you think a small shrimp like you can do, you git?" England laughed and threw one scattered burger wrappings to his brother's face. America cursed for a second before threw back some other trash. They ended up having some kind of trash fight until eventually England cleared everything up and America enjoyed the burned garlic bread England made.

Home.


And I tried to make this thing longer. This chapter is kinda filler. I am sorry, I just couldnt figure out the best way to bring the climax. and conflict was just started. I hate details, but if I skipped it, I have nothing left to write.

Anyway, THANK YOU FOR THE BIRTHDAY WISHES! I am soooo happy! I got a new frying pan (that's a way of my flammates to say : go and cook your own dinner, dude!) But they are awesome, I would be glad to have a set of kitchen knives for my next birthday. I never cook, mind you. those knives serve better purpose.

For everyone: I might take a break, and dont know when to continue (I think). Because finals is next week. And the reply... uhm... Well, No reply now, sorry.