♡~Ice n' Rice~♡

Chapter 19. A new start

The hours passed by very slowly. Hong Kong was flopped onto his seat, his tired eyes hurting because of the crying.
A pair of black and neon orange headphones were clamped around his head, filling his ears with the delightful music provided by his phone.
Hong Kong's eyes filled with little tears as the nostalgic beats sung by Maria Olaf came up. A very old song that Iceland almost ordered him to listen, from a song contest back in the old 2015, which seemed like yesterday to the Cantonese.

"Unbroken"
It was funny how much he couldn't relate to the title.

The purple Asian sky turn bluer, as little clouds welt up the atmosphere.
The bright sun started to raise, waking Hong Kong up from his melodic sleep.
The music was still playing, only dizzing the teenager more, and wasting the phone's batterie.

-Shit... -Hong Kong whispered to himself, quickly turning the music off and soon after, the phone too.
The sunrise was beautiful. All the land beneath them was dyed orange, the light cutting through the mountains' shadows and the lakes' glowing water.

Hong Kong, ignored the beautiful landscape. Instead, he turned to watch England.
The Briton had the seat next to his, his messy, blond hair spreading across the back of the seat as he slept.

The flight was almost over, they were currently flying over the Calais Channel. The clear water sparkled under the blinding morning sun.
-Arthur... -He shook the sleeping man's shoulder.
He was answered with a sleepy groan.

-Arthur Kirkland!
-U-Uhmf?
-We're reaching London...
-Oh... Good boy, Leon -He joked, stretching.
Hong Kong shot him the deadliest glare ever. He was helpless without his phone, source of acknowledge and social life. Also, it was a good way to ignore England while he was locked into a plane with him.

♡~·~·*♡*·~·~♡

-"Hong"
"How are you?"
"Hey"
"Good morniiing?"
"These fucking texts arent delivering!"

Iceland sighed loudly, locking his phone and crossing his arms with a huff.
They were flying over the south of the United Scandinavia, almost reaching their home in the piece of land that belonged to Sweden.
Norway was the only awake Nordic, besides Iceland. The older glanced curiously over at Iceland's phone.
-Maybe he's flying over a Wi-Fi free spot
-How funny -Iceland glared slightly at his older brother.
-He should be landing by now -The Norwegian shrugged.

Their plane eventually landed as well. They got off, using Denmark as their suitcase holder.
The poor man walked behind the other Nordics, struggling to keep up and still show off as Norway's strong boyfriend.
The rest of them walked fairly quickly, anxious to get back home from their trip.
Iceland couldn't stop checking his phone, pleading for a text back. He started to worry about Hong Kong. He had never seen the Cantonese without his phone.

-We're almost home! -Finland said happily, a bright smile puffing his cheeks.
-Y-Yeah!! Phew! -Denmark's tired wheeze spoke.
-Mom! Can I put Hana out of her cage now?
-Hm, you can, Peter
-Yay!
Norway decided to pick up a few bags from his Danish boyfriend, even though he might only have done it to get a 'Thank you' kiss.

Iceland couldn't help but feeling strange. All of the other Nordics were happy and excited to get back home, yet he could only feel a weight on his chest from the worry.
Hong Kong.
He was the only one he thought of. England's economy wasn't completely bad, and it'd brighten up a little more with Hong Kong's resources, but, in the end, he was still unallied.

Ignoring the rooting and the happy cheering of his family when they bursted through the door, Iceland sighed and locked himself into his room.
Leaving Mr. Puffin's cage open, he laid back on his bed, waiting for his Wi-Fi to settle down.

The same as always. Only one thing changed.
He knew Hong Kong now, and his lazy evenings would be replaced with the purest worry.

♡~·~·*♡*·~·~♡

England opened the door. The wooden door cracked lightly, letting them in.
Hong Kong's stomach was filled with angry butterflies, a knot of nervousness fighting to don't be swallowed.

He remembered everything.
At least, it wasn't his own land and he couldn't see the past by just looking, otherwise he would have broken up crying.
His English classes, when he used to let all of his mischievously flow; the room where he played and "socialised" with the young America and Canada; their dining room...
Even...
His own room.

It was a quite big room, the walls were painted a vanilla scheme, creamy and light. His bed was under the window, letting the weak sunlight make the fuzzy, velvet-ish covers shine.

The rest of the decoration consisted on dark wooden wardrobes and a desk, portaits and photos hanging from the walls and resting on the shelves.
Happy portaits from Hong Kong's childhood at England's home. At least, happy for England.
The Asian child's serious face was almost hilarious to see, yet it was an expression of pure discomfort back then.

He sighed, throwing his suitcase onto the bed carelessly. He looked around. Everything was exactly as he remembered it.
His eyes felt heavy and burnt. He rubbed them a few times, wincing at the pounding of his head. He threw himself next to the suitcase, staring ahead.
He flinched, quickly remembering about his phone.
He rummaged through his handbag, grabbing his charger and plugging it to a socket on the wall, which he had never noticed as a child.

Thousands of memories were raking at his brain, all at once. He wanted to shut himself in, just to forget.
He wanted to forget the darker times. He had a responsibility now, and knew that he was supposed to look forward.
Still, it was difficult. He only wanted to rest and take a break from the world.

He was about to check his phone when a knock made him shiver, startled.
A firm knock, that only made more memories flood his head.

-Hong Kong?
-Y-Yes?
-Can I come in?
-Yeah...
He put his phone back on the bed, looking up at the door.
England emerged from behind, calmly walking up to him. He sat on the bed, running a hand through his pale golden hair.
Hong Kong stared at him, his dark amber eyes stuck to England's, hoping for him to go away soon.
-Missed this?
-No. Not at all.

England shuddered softly at Hong Kong's harsh answer. He cleared his throat.
-Well... you're going to love here from now on, possibly... forever.
-You're wrong. I'll go back to my siblings' house once we make enough money to help China.
-That might never happen... -England sighed.
-It will happen. And I'll go back home.
-This is your home now Hong Kong. Don't be childish and try to cooperate. -He sighed again. -Look, you aren't just you. You are your people too. And they're rebel against mine right now, which isn't letting them make money.

Hong Kong noticed that he was right and looked down.
-S-Sorry...
-It's okay. Just keep that in mind...

The European got up and walked off his room, softly shutting the door behind him.
The Asian's gaze locked on the red blankets, dizzy because of his responsability. He had to be "a good kid" now and obey England, just for China's sake.
As much as he'd hate it silently, he would follow England and send his older brother as much money as he could gather every last day of every month.

China had let him live as his own region, and Hong Kong wouldn't let him die.
Suddenly, he understood what Japan meant when he talked about honor.

He would work as hard as his people could, for as long as his body let him; to gather as many pounds as the system gave him, to help China.
To give him back what he had been giving him for centuries: help.

Soon, Hong Kong knew that his new life was about to start.