My share of my and Eylenda's collab. These will be short, as they are as long as they need to be, which may not be long at all. I hope you like these; R&R, please!

Life with Yao had been slow. The elder nation had been deliberate in what he did, always pondering his next move, keeping to himself, which meant Hong Kong was hidden away, with him. And while it had been peaceful in its tranquility... for a young boy, even if he didn't display his emotions, having been taught from youth that this was a bad thing, to show everyone what you were thinking, ...it was boring. To be blunt. Which, you know... Asians were not. Except for Korea, but Xue-Zhong didn't see him often.

Then, with the coming of the Westerners, the Americans and the Brits and the French and Russians, and Germans, everything had changed. The tranquility was shattered, broken beyond repair, Hong Kong was forced to see that his beloved Da Ge wasn't as strong as he'd thought, and the things they did to them, made them do...

In the end, of course, as all the world knows now, he was given up to he of the fuzzy eyebrows, England. Torn away from his homeland, forced to learn English and wear suits and submit to mockery and taunts, missing his brother, always, though there were times that England was nice, a bit... Hong Kong watched, and learned, silent and thoughtful. He met other colonies and former colonies of England's: India, America, Canada, Sealand... and neighboring countries, like France (Who was weird) Spain (Who rather creeped him out) and the Nordic countries, Greece, Turkey, Austria...

One day, Arthur went out, locking the door behind him, reasoning that that would be enough to stop a little boy from getting out and getting into mischeif. Xue stared at the door after it had closed, then walked off to his room, climbed out the window, and proceeded to explore the world outside of England's house.

He happened upon another boy he vaguely recognised as one of the Nordics, who was clutching a little bird and staring at him with a face as blank as his own. "...Who are you?" they asked at the exact same time, in different languages, then paused, blinked, and asked, "Who are you?" again, in English. Xue tilted his head, deciding to speak first.

"...Wang Xue-Zhong," he answered, bowing a little and then sticking out his sleeve-covered hand, as he'd seen Europeans do in greeting. "...Hong Kong." The other boy stared at the hand for a moment before shaking it clumsily.

"... Eiríkur Danmörsson," he replied quietly. "...Ísland."

They stared at each other for a while longer, before Iceland cleared his throat. "Uhm," he started, hugging his puffin closer. Xue tilted his head.

"... Do you want to play together?" he inquired, his still-thin eyebrows drawing together to form a little crease on his forehead. The other boy hesitated, then nodded eagerly. From then on, whenever he was bored and Arthur wasn't looking, Hong Kong would sneak out and go play with Iceland, since even at that age, he knew Arthur wouldn't approve of their friendship. And over time, friendship grew into best-friendship, until they could laugh- yes, /laugh/ and joke about most anything, and when they hung out together, they were so comfortable with each other that when people say them, they thought that the two were dating.

A while later, when Hong Kong was a little older, England was out and Xue was confined to the house... "Grounding", Arthur had called it. It was a foreign concept to the young Asian... after all, Chinese children didn't get grounded. Punished, yes, but not grounded. So strange... He was sitting on his bed, cross-legged and rather bored, wondering if he should make dinner for himself- he didn't trust England's cooking anymore, and though he was still learning how to cook, himself, even his egg tarts (Modified from a recipe from Portugal) were better than England's scones, not that that was anything to judge by.

Italy burst in randomly.

Hong Kong nearly fell off the chair he was standing on to get the sugar, eyes wide with shock, but face otherwise composed. In other words, blank. He jumped off said chair lightly, bowed a little, as he hadn't quite been whitewashed enough to rid him of the habit yet, and asked quietly, voice as emotionless as his face, "...Welcome, Mr. Italy. I apologise, Mr. England is not here right now..." he frowned a little at his strange accent.

After much confusion and random conversation, they ended up with Xue sitting at the table while Feliciano made pasta, since Hong Kong had only had noodles before, and Italy insisted that pasta was better than noodles. While the European chattered, the Asian sat there, back straight, eyes dull, only half listening. After a while, a heaping plate- too much, really- of pasta smothered with sauce was plopped down in front of Hong Kong, and he was shown how to twirl pasta on his fork.

The Italian watched the Asian pick at his food, then frowned suddenly, poking Xue. "Hey! You're too quieeeeet," he declared, as it was a discovery he'd just made. Really, Feli, sometimes, you're as dense as America. "Ve, Hong Kong, I'm going to give you two words of advice, okay?" While Xue stared at him, startled, Italy continued, "Carpe diem!"

Hong Kong kept staring.

Italy grinned at him, and jumped up to go. "Remember it, okaaay? Enjoy your pasta!" Xue stared after him long after the door had clicked shut, then dropped his gaze to the heaping mound of pasta on his plate, wondering what exactly 'carpe diem' meant.

He finished his pasta, washed the dishes, then went off to look it up in one of the encyclopedias in Arthur's study, copied it down carefully, then went back to his own small room to read it, since there was quite a lot of big words, and complicated wording- stupid encyclopedias, not saying anything succinctly- and started reading slowly, since it /was/ long and complicated, and his English, while improving, was not exactly up to par with that of England's, or even America's or Canada's.

After quite a bit of dictonary page-flipping, cursing, in English /and/ Chinese, and frowning, he had a translation, and sat back, looking at his mottled page of notes and the three-word translation, circled at the bottom. "...Seize the day." What exactly had Italy been trying to tell him? Xue thought he'd gotten used to living among Europeans, but... geez, they seemed to grow stranger every day.

Years passed, and Hong Kong remained under England's control. Not that he minded so much, anymore... after all, Arthur had become less... mean, and Xue had a friend he could hang out with and play pranks on Arthur with. On quiet days, though, when he didn't have anything to do, he'd think over Italy's strange advice again. It rather bothered him, because it didn't seem to make sense, and though Italy rarely made sense, this seemed to have some other meaning...

1997. After nearly two centuries of living in England's house, Xue was finally released to go back to his Da Ge. Yao seemed delighted to have him back, since during his absence, Hong Kong had turned into such an economic power, and was so strong now, and now, there would be another jewel to add to China's growing glory.

Xue would have none of it. He'd learned too much during his stay at England's, had broadened his outlook on the world. He wasn't the little child who'd been taken, screaming, from his big brother anymore. Hong Kong had grown up, and he wouldn't be under someone's control easily again... They debated, Hong Kong and China, and in the end, Xue got what he wanted. One country, two systems. He'd be a Special Administrative Region, like Macao, and control his own economy, while his people were ruled, for the most part, by China's laws.

He was kept busy for a very, very long time, readjusting himself to being under Chinese control again, and so had no chance to visit Iceland, or have the Nordic country over. Needless to say, Eirikur wasn't too happy about this, especially as he was having problems of his own, and could have used a friend to talk to, as they had, often, about their respective islands or cultures, or just complaining about England. When Xue /did/ get a chance to send an email to his friend, what he got back, was a long, and very angry, tirade that rather reminded him of a Howler. He replied, of course, apologetically, explaining...

The next time they saw each other was at the next World Conference, Iceland standing by Norway and Denmark, Hong Kong slightly behind China. As America blabbered on, they stared at each other, then turned away, something that did not go unnoticed by the elder countries, and of course, Hong Kong was interrogated by China about it, who didn't seem to have a very good opinion on it all. Iceland wasn't rich anymore, Iceland wasn't Asian, Iceland wasn't a good match for him, Iceland this, Iceland that... As with any other teenager who'd gotten a scolding about a friend, the scolding rather encouraged Hong Kong in his friendship.

On Iceland's end was a similar scolding. Hong Kong wasn't a country, despite his excellent economy, he was Asian, he was this, and that... In the end, unlike Hong Kong, who had stood there silently and polite and endured it all, Iceland stormed off, annoyed. He wasn't a child, he could take care of himself. And, goddammit, Hong Kong was his best friend, and he wasn't going to let Norway's opinion sway him on this.

They quite literally crashed into each other, Iceland seeking to get away from Norway, Hong Kong seeking to get away from China. Ice fell without seeing who he'd crashed into, and, of course, let out an angry, "Watch where you're going!" Icelanders: not polite, never polite. Icelandic didn't even have a word for 'please'.

Hong Kong recovered his balance, a tiny smile tugging at his lips at the familiar voice, even in its anger. "It's good to see you, too, Ice," he answered quietly, reaching out a hand to the other boy. Ice frowned at him, but took it anyway, and used it to pull himself up.

"You stupid Asian," he scolded. "I could have gotten hurt. Where have you been all these months? I..." He paused, and looked away, cheeks faintly pink. "...I /missed/ you, you idiot." Xue opened his mouth to reply, then closed it, his reply unsaid, and just... looked at Ice, considering.

Unbidden, Italy's words came back to him. Strange, really... Hong Kong hadn't thought about it in months, ever since he'd been consumed with adjusting back to being under China's control.

Carpe diem. Seize the day.

Ice, thinking that the other boy wasn't going to reply, turned to go, mumbling something under his breath that sounded like, "Never mind." Xue stepped forward, catching the Nordic's arm, and pulled Ice toward him, his dark eyes unreadable. Ice gave a slightly indignant sound, but was soon silenced by a gentle kiss.

"W-what was that-?" Ice burst out, immediately flushing red. Xue placed a finger on his friend's lips, and Ice stopped talking, though the mutinous look in his eyes clearly said he rather wanted to bite the offending finger.

"Ice. I like you," Hong Kong told him bluntly. "...Go out with me." Ice turned his head away from Xue's hand, frowning.

"Are you asking me, or telling me?"

Xue paused. "...Both. I think. ...Uhm. Asking?" Ice stared at him for a moment, trying not to laugh at Xue's own awkward confidence, then burst out laughing anyway.

"...Fine. You stupid Asian." Xue rolled his eyes, sighing with relief, then poked Ice's cheek, trying to stop the laughter, and Ice smacked his hand away, so Xue caught the hand and kissed it, a gentlemanly gesture he'd learned from England a long time ago. Ice snatched his hand back, flushing again, and Xue smiled.

From the end of the deserted hallway, Italy smiled knowingly.

...Uhm. So. Yeah. I hope you liked it, that it wasn't terrible or anything... Review, please! I'd like to know what you all think.