I don't really want to talk about the aftermath of World War II. The gist of it, however, was Japan attacked December 8th, 1941 and I surrendered Christmas day. Black Christmas. Although England had helped, it really wasn't enough.

To the victor goes the spoils, and I was passed to Japan by England. I was beginning to sense a pattern. I wondered who else would "own" me.

For three years and eight months, I dealt with it. I remembered that conversation I eavesdropped on, the one between China and England, and knew now exactly what China was so upset about.

Three years and eight months later, I was given back to England (though there was some opposition) shortly after Japan surrendered due to America's bombing.

I returned to England a mess, but I recovered surprisingly well. Soon, I was well enough to where England left me well enough alone to continue with my old routine.

One day England left for a meeting, but he wouldn't explain to me what it was about. Normally he would tell me, and I would give him advice, for he was teaching me in the trade of business. That day was completely different.

"Were are you going?" I asked inquisitively. I was received with a simple head shake no.

"Not today, Hong Kong, I'm late," England brushed me off rushing out the door.

No matter. I would just wait patiently until his return. His return happened to be very late, about two AM, give or take several minutes.

"Hong Kong? Why, for God's sake, are you up at such a late hour?" England asked as soon as he noticed me sitting in the arm chair, clearly still awake (though quite tired).

I rubbed my eyes to keep the sleep away. "When I asked you were you were going, you replied with 'not today', and that was...well, technically yesterday."

"True...But that doesn't mean you should have waited up for me," he scolded, pulling me up from the chair and leading me to my bed. I didn't protest, but I wasn't exactly happy with the idea, either.

"Well then tell me where you went," I bargained, "And I'll go to bed without protest."

"You little scoundrel, I get nothing out of that deal," England jested, but his attitude changed. "Well, I went to go see China."

Changing out of my dayclothes, I asked the first thing that came to mind. "How is he?"

"Could be better," England admitted. "Well, our discussion was...About you."

I paused from crawling into bed. "About me?" I parroted. "Why?"

"Uhm," England started. It never was a good thing when someone started with "Uhm" in an uneasy tone. "Uhm," he repeated, messing with the buttons of his coat, "How would you like to know you'll be going back to China?"

"Is that what the meeting was about?"

"It was about setting up a date (among other things), yes."

"So I never was going to stay with you permanently, was I?"

England didn't say anything. I assumed what I asked was true, but there was always that nagging doubt.

It was silent for a few more minutes, so I asked another question. "When?"

"The first of July. 1997, actually. The date was arranged a while ago, but we went to discuss other things. I'll tell you more in the morning. Just go to sleep now."

He left my room and I was left in the dark, figuratively and literally.