Well, I haven't done something with Hong Kong in so long, I thought it would be refreshing to do another story with him in it. Cause I really do love the character, you know!

I don't own Hetalia! end /AN/

Hong Kong awoke, finding himself swaddled in blankets of a strange texture, an itchy, scratchy feel, which was altogether uncomfortable. It took him a moment, as he looked blankly around the room, to remember why he was here, and not sharing a bed with China back at home. He felt things grow gradually more familiar as he did, however, remembering the previous night and how strange the man who took him had turned out to be.

He wriggled out of the blankets, wondering if England had tucked him in out of the kindness of his heart or a cold-hearted care for an investment. Because if Hong Kong knew anything, he knew his primary value was as a thing, that could yield profit to its owner. To China, his value as a thing had not mattered, and it was a good thing, because he was not very valuable. He wondered why England had taken him, if he had only done it to hurt China one more time.

But such thoughts were morose so early in the morning, and Hong Kong was feeling the call of nature rather strongly, so he opted to think on other things. He walked over to the door, easing it open silently. The floor was cold beneath his bare feet, and he wished he could somehow lift both his feet off the floor at once.

He pattered forward softly, feet barely making a sound. He stopped for a moment to stare at a vase, which was simple clear red glass, with several bumpy patterns. Some flowers resided within the vase, and they were also red. Of course, Hong Kong had no way of knowing what kind they were, and so, after another long look, continued on.

As he padded through the hall, he saw many pictures of white people he did not know, and would probably never know. Or else, they were going to poke and pinch him, sizing him up like an animal for sale, like England had. He'd never felt less human than he had at that point, being told to turn around so the bastard gentleman could see. China's voice had been choked, and he'd never forget the sound of it.

Hong Kong blinked. He should not dwell on the past, even if it were only yesterday he was thinking of. He had to look to the unfathomable future, and rely on it for hope. Yes, it was the only thing to do in this situation, where he understood not a word of his master and had never been prosperous.

A sudden whine broke free from Hong Kong. Nature was calling very adamantly, and if he did not answer it soon, he would ruin his pants. He looked around, biting his lip as he pushed open the door to his left. Where had he come in from to begin with? If he could just find his way outside, surely he could find where he was supposed to go.

No luck with this door, it only led to another bedroom, this one with a frilly pink sham on the bed and what seemed to be a million pillows on top of it. He turned around in disappointment, feeling a frown tug the corners of his lips downward. Where was the way out?

He tried every door along the hallway, wracking his memory for which door England had taken him through. It was practically impossible to recall, what with the excitement of last night. However, he had reacvhed a conclusion: he had to exit this hallway, or else never find his way out.

His feet made nary a sound as he stepped into a big room, where a rug was the predominant piece of furniture, and wooden door loomed, as well as several doorways. Hong Kong's face brightened a fraction as he recognised the wooden door as the front door, and he dashed over to it almost gleefully. Now, finally he would get to relieve himself!

His frown returned, however, when he tugged on the door handle. And tugged. And tugged. Hong Kong whimpered, unable to hold it in. He would not be able to keep from relieving himself for much longer, and he knew it. He felt as though he would burst soon, and cold beads of sweat broke out across his forehead. He could not pee on the floor in the house! What would England do to him?

England, England would hate him! He would hit him, and treat like a bad child who didn't know how to keep from peeing in the house! Frustrated tears pricked at the corner of Hong Kong's eyes. It wasn't true, he knew he wasn't supposed to go in the house! It wasn't fair, he just couldn't get out!

He crossed his legs, trying desperately to keep from staining the nice rug beneath him. Jiggling the door handle, he gave another attempt to getting out, but to no avail. Hong Kong let out a whine, shaking a little as he tried to hold it in.

But it was no use, and before Hong Kong knew it, he felt a stream going down his legs, and a blessed emptiness in his bladder. The tears that had only partly formed before were now coming down in full force. England was going to kill him!

"Hong Kong? Is something wrong?" England had come out of one of the doorways, and asked before his nose caught up with him. Then he blanched, staring at the puddle around Hong Kong's feet. Hong Kong, of course, understood not a word, staring up at England in terror.

England was confused. Hadn't China said Hong Kong was housebroken? He was very certain he had. Maybe he had only said it as a form of final revenge, so that this would happen. In any case, he had better clean the shaking child up before he got a rash.

"Come here," England commanded, holding out his hand to Hong Kong. Hong Kong hiccupped, staring at the hand with anxiety. He did not want to go with England, and instead, he pushed himself against the door, turning his face away from England.

England sighed, being astonishingly patient with his newest colony. He reached out and lifted Hong Kong up under the armpits, holding him a distance from himself gingerly. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up," he said, not inspiring any less tears from Hong Kong. The child clearly thought he was in a lot of trouble.

However, England wasn't mad. In all the excitement, he realised he'd forgotten to show the little colony where the bathroom was. Why on earth he'd chosen to relieve himself right beside the front door, he didn't know, but he obviously knew he wasn't supposed to do that.

England took Hong Kong into the kitchen, setting him down and then starting to strip him of his clothes. Hong Kong, however, immediately wrapped his arms around himself, eyes wide and head shaking. England groaned, wishing they didn't have a language barrier between them.

"Now, it's okay, see, I'm just going to clean you up," he tried to reason with the minute Asian, and he only got unknowing eyes staring back at him. Hong Kong was afraid. He was afraid that once his clothes were off, England would beat him properly. Now, it was not that he was commonly beaten; in fact, that was very far from the truth. The thing was, England looked like the type to beat children to him.

And now, he shied back from his touch like a timid animal, not daring to hit him away. England, however, pretty soon grew impatient, and forcibly began to undress him. Hong Kong squawked, immediately trying to break free of the Englishman's calloused grip, squirming uncontrollably.

"Now then. Just stay still," England said with a touch of irritation, finally ripping Hong Kong's pants off his legs despite the indignant squeaks emitting from the child. Then he hoisted him up, putting him in the large sink, moving aside a couple of dishes first. Hong Kong scrambled to his feet, trying to step out of the sink, but England held him in, pumping water into the sink with one hand.

When the cold water hit his back, Hong Kong yelped, shocked by its freezing qualities. England grimly held him in, taking a hand towel and beginning to scrub him. "It's only a little while, it'll be fine. Just hold on," he gently murmured, seeing Hong Kong's distress. Hong Kong seemed to understand, shockingly, and he relaxed in England's grip.

The rest of the washing went in silence, and even when England left, got soap and came back, Hong Kong remained in the sink. As soon as the child was out of the sink and in clean clothes, England took his hand. "Come on, I'll show you where the bathroom is," he said, and though Hong Kong did not understand, he followed him.

/AN/ Well, I hope you enjoyed that! It actually went much longer than I expected, so I am rather pleased with myself!