HongPiri - The Month of Sorrow -part 9.5-

As promised, the filler chapter is here! Here's some insights on Iceland, Norway and Denmark and Macau! Hope you like~

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-Chapter 9.5 ~ The Last Judgement-


|Iceland’s POV|

Back in Scandinavia and in the Nordic house, Iceland had his face buried in his pillow. His face is already stained with all the tears he had cried out to be point he would run out of energy and cry no more. He was exhausted from the crying and his breathing was strained from his face mashed into his pillow.

It had already been nearly four days since he last spoken to his best friend. His best and only friend. Since his outburst to him at the park, he kept his emotions sealed up inside him, even when walking back to the hotel. Denmark spent his breath trying to get Iceland to not be such a stick-in-the-mud, but to Iceland, the Dane already wasted his efforts and time. As much as he didn’t want to admit it (let alone show it), Iceland really is jealous of Hong Kong being able to get a girlfriend, although this type is jealousy is more out of fear of abandonment than simple envy.

Back when he was a child, Iceland was always alone, and Mr. Puffin, his pet puffin, was his only companion. All those years since his birth, he was a solitary child, desperately wanting a true friend, and later, become his closest for many, many years--perhaps centuries--to come. Upon Norway and Denmark arriving onto his homeland, he felt less lonely, and he eventually accepted them--and later Finland and Sweden--as his family. And yet, that was barely enough for the Icelander. None of the Nordics--not even Norway, not even Mr. Puffin--are enough. The Nordics are his family, but Iceland wanted more. He only wanted more.

Back in 1964, Iceland remembered--during the Cod Wars--Iceland was walking along the empty docks of the British harbor, visiting England for the first time, in hopes of either befriending its personification or someone else. The latter, though, was automatically chosen for him as he accidentally stepped on a pencil that was being blown away by the wind. He picked up his foot in surprise, only for his berry-colored eyes to meet innocent glimmering gold ones that belonged to a slightly distressed Asian boy running after the pencil, sketchbook in hand, his loose choppy brunette hair shimmering in the sea breeze. The boy himself looked no older than twelve.

Iceland then picked up the drawing tool and handed it over to the boy with a kind smile on his face, but he curtly took it without saying “thank you,” walking back to the spot where he was previously in and continued drawing whatever he is drawing.

Something within the Icelandic teenager sparked, and subtly walked over to the boy, and sat down next to him. The boy failed to notice as he continued drawing. “You’re welcome, then.” was all Iceland said.

The brunette boy ignored him once again.

Iceland had continued saying words of courtesy until he was finally able to get the boy talking. The latter was able to smile and the two of them introduced themselves, with Iceland being careful to use his human name to prevent himself from being alienated by the humans, as nations themselves often avoid them.

As time went by, both Iceland and the boy--who was better known as Li Xiao (aka the personification of Hong Kong, but Iceland himself didn’t know of that then)--would meet at the same dock, and slowly but surely, they became friends, and they had transitioned from friends to older brother and little brother, to the point where it was getting steadily harder and harder to leave each other. Iceland had noticed, that every time he would get up, say goodbye to “Li Xiao” and leave, he would always see the sadness and longing in his bright golden eyes. Iceland would always let a kind smile form on his face and pet his soft hair, saying that they will always meet up again.

Although around ten plus hours later, Iceland was arrested by the British police for allegedly stealing barrelfulls of codfish--like the night before and the night before, as security was lacking severely back then--which made “Li Xiao” worry to no end. Meanwhile, Iceland’s punishment for allegedly committing this crime was banishment from the whole of the United Kingdom--a harsh sentence even by France’s and Iceland’s standards--but not before when “Li Xiao” visited him in the cell, and the white-haired boy had said, kissed his forehead and with a sad smile, “Li Xiao, even if we are apart, I will always be with you. Forever.”

After those words have been said, Iceland was then deported back to his home country, but returned to the Nordic house (since his sentence didn’t say anything about being supposed to stay there (Iceland)) instead. Weeks passed into months; months passed into years, and years passed into decades. All that time, Iceland had never forgot about “Li Xiao,” never stopped thinking about him, always hoping for a time and place where they would meet again (he’s even wrote a parody for it*). Although the other people said that his waiting for a young human boy he befriended in England was fruitless, as nations are immortal and humans’ lives are far too short, Iceland still never gave up having faith in their next future meeting.

And it was then, on that fateful day, on Christmas 2008** in America’s place, Iceland suddenly caught eye of “Li Xiao,” now a grown teenager, compared to his tween appearance during the Cod Wars--much to Iceland’s shock, surprise and both their overflowing happiness--and they ran up to each other and embraced. (Although Hong Kong himself is shorter than Iceland by roughly one inch). They gave no regard that the other nations are watching them with confused and perplexed looks on their faces, especially Norway’s and China’s.

Even after the years go by, despite the ocean plus a larger landmass between the two of them, they kept their promise on that they will always be with each other, going as far as keeping themselves in touch with social media such as Tumblr and Skype. After being separated all those four decades, their special bond has grown stronger than they previously were.

Until the Manila tour bus hostage incident back in August 2010.

Upon hearing the dreadful and saddened news, Iceland broke down into tears, burying his face into his hands. His best friend was severely injured, shot in the chest in a failed attempt to protect his people. In the heart, the reporters said. Iceland could only watch helplessly as he saw the Filipino paramedics on the TV carry away Hong Kong on a stretcher with blood staining his shirt and with only an oxygen mask, despite his breathing being totally unstable. He could barely get any sleep for two days after that tragic and horrendous event. When he checked the news again, various online articles revealed that Hong Kong was in a deep coma even after the surgeons removed the bullet from his chest. Some doctors said that it could be months or years before Hong Kong would wake up from his comatose state. Some said that he would never wake up. Iceland knows that countries like him and Hong Kong are immortal, so they can never die from the mere extreme brute force of a human being, let alone a stray bullet to dig straight into their heart.

The possibility of Hong Kong never waking up from his coma depressed the Icelander greatly, to the point where he would barely eat or sleep; even if he does try to eat, he would choke out the food from his mouth, or forcefully swallow it before rushing up to the upstairs bathroom and throw up whatever he had eaten. Always, for the past six months, he had kept trying to tell himself that Hong Kong will live and wake up from his coma, but every single attempt was fruitless.

When word got out that Hong Kong had finally woken up from his coma in February two years ago, Iceland was lifted up once again in crashing waves of joy, like he would fall down from the giddiness. The news articles said that Hong Kong would go through another couple months or rehabilitation to restore the strength and health in his heart as well as regaining the strength in his entire body. Iceland then promptly vowed to wait those months just to that he could see Hong Kong again, to hug him and squeeze him because the former missed the latter all too damn much.

After meeting once again for what seemed like a painful eternity, and during those days of hugging, squeezing, neck nuzzling and boyish rough-housing, Iceland couldn’t help but notice that Hong Kong grew increasingly distant. The brunette boy would always say that he needs some time to relax, but Iceland wasn’t really buying it. He cannot shake off the dreadful feeling deep inside him. When the white-haired nation asked again, Hong Kong replied--his dull gold eyes glazed--with a single tear falling down on his cheek, “I only have a couple years left to live.”

Iceland remembered bursting out crying, letting all the dread and fear out as he crashed himself against his best friend’s chest, staining the other’s; Hong Kong could only wrap his arms around the taller’s (well, slightly)*** neck, planting a hand on his silvery-white hair.

Perhaps… perhaps this whole ordeal was the reason why Iceland screamed at Hong Kong back in the park. He couldn’t say that he was also angry at Philia just because she hooked up with Hong Kong, but then again, he really is angry at her; angry and upset that the Filipina would just “steal” his best friend away from him, allegedly preventing him from spending their last moments together. This month of this year, Iceland is sure the clock is ticking down for Hong Kong. That just made him feel even worse. He wanted to scream, cry, break something, throw something, or kick or punch a wall out of anger, but instead, he lifted his head up from his pillow and punched it multiple times, taking out his anger, sadness, sorrow and frustration on the poor plush thing. He then quickly got up and grabbed the pillow, lifted it up, and threw it down on his bed, not caring if the sheets get wrinkly or if the softness of the pillow goes away. He repeated this same procedure for around two minutes until he could feel his muscles ache.

He promptly slammed the pillow onto his bed, with a few feathers flying out. He desperately wanted to scream, but he could not find his voice. He fell down to his knees and only let out a heavy, dreary sigh, utter exhaustion and numbness overcoming him. He never felt so empty in his entire life. So empty that it hurt despite the numb feeling.

Iceland then suddenly felt the need to talk to someone. Norway, perhaps? No, no, scratch that. Norway still thinks that Iceland and Hong Kong have deep unspoken romantic feelings for each other. It’s only a matter of time before Norway figures out that this is not the case for both of them. Denmark? Well, Iceland recalled that the former thought Hong Kong and Philia hooked up; maybe Denmark wasn’t paying attention to his sexuality and feelings towards the brunette Asian? Either way, the Dane seems out of the question. So are Finland and Sweden.

Just then it clicked into the Icelandic nation’s mind. Maybe he could talk to Turkey? Maybe talking to someone out of the Nordic family would be a good thing; besides, from Iceland’s perspective, Turkey himself can be like a surrogate father to the boy himself.
With those thoughts in mind, Iceland got up--finally finding the energy to do so--and went downstairs to the front door, telling Norway that he’s going out to get some fresh air, despite the fact that it was cloudy out. The air was a little chilly from the lack of sun, but Iceland found it quite relaxing, since he likes the cold weather. Nevertheless, he headed down the direction he was previously facing to Turkey’s place.

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“So, you came all this way just to you can talk to me about Hong Kong, kid?” asked Turkey, relaxing in his sofa as he sipped from his coffee cup. He offered Iceland some coffee, but the latter politely declined, asking for some warm tea instead.

The boy looked a little more relaxed than he previously was thanks to the tea, but his heart wouldn’t stop pounding so hard in his chest. He swallowed hard and said, his voice barely above a whisper, even though he forced himself to speak louder so that the Turk could hear, “Yes. And not just… Li Xiao, but… but also about him and a girl named Philia--she’s part of the Philippines--and that they probably got romantically involved recently, and…”

Turkey let out an exhale. “So Li Xiao’s got a girl, hm? Tell me, son, what makes you think that you can talk about this with me, when their relationship’s got nothing to do with you?”

Iceland frowned. “Yes, it does.”

Turkey raised a brow (although it’s hard to tell because of the white mask he wears). “Oh? How so?”

Iceland shifted uncomfortably in the plush throne chair he’s sitting in, a light flush coming over his ivory cheeks (if you call it light, judging from his pale skin color). He twiddled his thumbs and bit his lower lip, unsure of how he would form the words. “Um… well… I snapped at Li Xiao… just for having a ‘girlfriend,’ as anybody would put it.”

“You did, did you?”

Iceland nodded, waiting for the Turkish man’s response. There was none.

So he continued, specifying, “It’s… because I did it out of jealousy. Up until that point, I was…” Iceland let out a shaky sigh, not knowing if he would continue. Then he swallowed. “I was kinda giving him… a little bit of the cold shoulder, although I did keep my composure whenever Charice was around us…”

“Whoa, hold up,” Turkey intervened, putting up a hand, palm facing forward. Then he lowered his head in thought. “Charice… Philia… You don’t mean Charice Pacquiao, the Outer Islands of the Philippines, do you?”

Iceland gave the older man a surprised and confused look. “Um, yeah. How do you know her, Mr. Turkey?”

Turkey let out a warm chuckle. “Met her once during the Spanish-American War. Or was it sometime after she and Rizal got their independence from Antonio…? Anyway. Charice is a really sweet kid. Full of life, so happy and optimistic, unlike her brother, who acts like he’s got a stick up his ass. Anyway she’s just a beautiful girl, inside and out.” He then smirked. “I guess that’s why Li Xiao fell in love with her in the first place, considering he’s emotionless most of the time. Opposites attract, that’s what they all say.”

This time, Iceland’s face was pink for two reasons: one, he was annoyed that anyone like Turkey would dare say that Hong Kong was emotionless, and some other reason he can’t pinpoint. (At least, he can’t put it into words.)

To his relief, Turkey failed to notice the light blush. “Continue on, I’m sorry.”

Iceland took a breath and said, “Well, anyway. You remember the Manila tour bus incident three years ago, right?”

“Well, I heard a little bit of it, but I never gave it much thought,” said Turkey. “Although I did hear that Hong Kong was involved, right?”

Iceland pressed his lips together, not wanting to remember. Still, he said, “He got shot in the heart… went into a coma for six months… spent another few in rehab.” Those words were said almost all too quickly in one breath.

“Yikes,” said Turkey. Then he smiled. “Hell of a strong kid. And here I thought he was gonna die just because he’s a city-state. Though I don’t see why all this has to do with your jealousy, Iceland.”

Iceland swallowed hard, this time his mouth felt dry as he looked down, facing the backs of his hands laying on his knees. His knuckles are nearly paper-white from being clenched into fists. He’s already trying hard not to break down in front of Turkey, and yet he could feel his composure slowly breaking.  “It’s because… it’s not an envious jealousy… it’s just that… ever since the incident and while Li went into a coma… I got so severely depressed to the point where I couldn’t eat or sleep. I felt like I was losing him slowly… the other Nordic nations barely know of this, but… Li Xiao, he…” Iceland paused to inhale, although it was unsteady. “He’s the most important person to me in the whole world. So in other words… during those six months, I thought I was going to lose someone that’s the most important to me.”

The living room fell silent, save for the two nations’ breathing. Iceland once again waited for Turkey to say something to break it. Once again, there was nothing. That just made Iceland feel a little worse.

Finally, he decided to break it and took in a shaky breath as he looked up, although he looked like he was going to cry. “When he finally woke from his coma, naturally, I was overjoyed. Then I heard he’s going to undergo rehab for the next few months, so I decided to wait until I could see him again.

“When I finally did, I noticed he grew distant from me. I asked him why, and all he said was that he’s just tired and wanted to recover. At first, I bought that, but… but I sensed something underneath it all.” Iceland could feel his lip quiver slightly, but he tried to keep his mouth into a straight line. “He…” He gulped, tears pooling into his eyelids. “He told me… he told me he only has two years left to live.”

Iceland swiftly craned his head down once again, letting the tears fall from his eyes and drop on his legs. He felt inferior to be crying in front of a more important nation than himself, Turkey in particular, but the painful memories of Hong Kong telling him those awful, sad words was too much for him to bear.

He quickly shot his head up, not caring if there were tears still streaming down his face, cheeks now reddened. “That’s why I was jealous of Li Xiao being in love with Charice! Not just jealous of him, I was jealous at him! I wanted to spend more time with him than ever, even if it’s just two years for him because of all the heart problems he endured every August, and if Charice takes him away from me, I won’t be able to!”

After the outburst, Iceland buried his face into his hands and cried silently. He had told Turkey his reason for his jealousy, and along with it the agony he had kept bottled up all this time. He had let out far too many emotions already, and yet it’s as if he just doesn’t want to stop.

Just then, he felt a large hand press itself on his back and it was rubbing against it. He peeked through his fingers, and much to his surprise, it was Turkey.

The latter gave him a reassuring smile as he continued to massage the Icelander’s back in an attempt to calm him down.

Then, against all his thinking, Iceland threw himself against Turkey and continued to cry on his collarbone. Turkey placed one hand on the other’s back and his other hand on his neck. It was somewhat out of place for the younger nation to be comforted by someone whom he only knows, but it’s not like he would be crying onto Norway with his arms around him. But Turkey is bigger than Norway, so the larger size would provide some warming comfort Iceland needed.


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|Neutral POV|

The kitchen clock was ticking loudly in the thick silence as Norway sipped from his favorite coffee mug (don’t worry, it’s decaf). The clock read 4:23, which is around thirty or so minutes since Iceland said he’s going out for a bit, presumably for some fresh air. At least it will help keep his mind off of whatever events he had been through three days ago. Then again, Iceland has been out for somewhat of a long time. Of course, there was Denmark, sitting across him, surprisingly silent. Finland and Sweden are out on their date to keep their minds off of the meeting that was canceled due to some assault. And then there was Sealand, who was watching some TV. Although Norway did not particularly focus on the sounds coming from the TV. Both he and Denmark were waiting for Iceland’s return so that they would start making dinner together.

“Ice’s been out for a really long time, hasn’t he?” Denmark spoke up, breaking the silence.

The Norwegian man took another sip before replying, “So I’ve noticed. I don’t suppose you know, Mathias?”

Denmark shrugged. “For all I know, he’s still stuck up and pissed about what happened three days ago.”

Norway raised a brow. “What happened three days ago? Did Emil and Li Xiao get into one of their friendship fights?” While the others don’t particularly know it, Norway was quite suspicious of Iceland and Hong Kong’s relationship. Pretty much, he still thinks that Iceland has a “gay crush” on the Asian city-state and sometimes teases him about it, with the younger one blushing furiously saying that he does not. Regardless, Norway does accept Iceland’s alleged “romantic feelings” for Hong Kong and wishes him the best of luck with him and their “budding” relationship.
Denmark on the other hand, was trying to think up of a response believable enough for the platinum-blonde man. He presumed that Hong Kong and Philia are boyfriend-girlfriend, and that’s probably why Iceland was so bitter at Hong Kong. Although he kept silent about it, potentially to spare the two of them the anger and disappointment Norway might give. The whole time that Hong Kong and Iceland have a really strong friendship (or else deeper than that), the Dane went along with the fact that the two would be eventually romantically involved. Now, even upon meeting Philia, who was with Hong Kong at the time, he was starting to have doubts; he keeps on thinking that maybe the two of them wouldn’t be compatible enough to be lovers. With that in mind, Denmark doesn’t really know if he should keep this secret for long.

The spike-haired nation spoke finally after a long grueling moment, “Yeah, they did, but I’m not telling the details.”

Norway frowned slightly. “Why not?”

“Because Ice told me to keep it secret.”

“Keep it secret? Why would he tell you that?”

Denmark shrugged. “You got me.” Maybe he should tell him. Better off to spare himself of suspicions, and he knows how nosy Norway can be when it comes to his dear little brother hiding secrets from him. (He walked in on Iceland writing Theodore Tugboat fan fiction about himself once and wouldn’t stop teasing him about it for a week.) “He bottles up things sometimes.”

“Well, he should tell me,” said Norway. “Because I’m his big brother.”

“Although Charice might be the reason,” said Denmark, letting the truth slip slowly.

The sapphire-eyed man frowned once more as he took another sip. “I don’t see why Charice has anything to do with this.”

Wait, he’s met Charice before? Denmark thought quizzically. I really don’t remember. “Well, both she and Li Xiao got romantically involved not too long ago.”

This prompted Norway to do a spit-take (with Denmark thankfully dodging the searing hot decaf coffee) as his eyes widened in surprise, with the searing hot brown liquid dripping from his open mouth to the wooden table, not even bothering to wipe his mouth. “What?!”
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~*Mainland China*~

Macau sighed as he sipped his tea, sitting alone at the kitchen table. Hong Kong once again refused the food that was given to him. This is actually the first time that the latter has been like this. The dish he had made**** was probably still laying on the desk in Hong Kong’s bedroom. Truth be told, Macau has seen Hong Kong depressed before; there were small instances since he was handed back to China in 1997 that he misses a boy named “Emil,”. Macau didn’t know whose name it belonged to until eleven years later at Christmas. And then there was around 9 months after the Manila tour bus hostage crisis two years later (three if you count the year and month Hong Kong awoke from his coma)--six months when he was in a coma plus three of rehabilitation--where his depression worsened slightly following his chronic heart problems and is reliant on the heart medication given to him. While Hong Kong did not tell, Macau sensed that he doesn’t have very long to live because he was shot in the heart previously. And lastly, there was this “mysterious Filipina.”

Back in America, Macau overheard Japan talking with Taiwan and Vietnam (thank goodness South Korea wasn’t present, he’d rave on and on about his extreme love for her, although Macau sensed that the feelings are one-sided) about the dream Hong Kong talked to him about. He thought about minding his own business, until he heard Taiwan’s squeal that Hong Kong’s got a love interest. Curious, Macau listened closer. Japan further told the nation women that America had told him that Philia--part of the Philippines--could potentially be a love interest to Hong Kong. At first, Macau was skeptical about this, since he had assumed that both the Philippines and Hong Kong would still hate each other for the tour bus incident and brushed it off as a white lie.

However, he was proven wrong. While checking on Hong Kong for his well-being, he noticed a piece of paper with graphite markings on it. He quietly took the paper from his hands while he was resting, and much to his surprise, there was a sketch portrait of a young girl with curious-looking black hair, a white ribbon, and a gold headband and a sun pin on the left of her head, and her eyes only colored in with a mixture of orange and brown. Her face was bright and happy, almost as if she was laughing. In the negative space of the portrait there was only one sentence scribbled on it:

”Philia: the girl with beautiful eyes with the color of a sunrise and a sunset; when the sun rises, I get lifted up.”

Perhaps Li Xiao did not genuinely hate Philippines, the Chinese man had thought. It was only a common misconception by the people and nations that had said it.

If one knows Macau by now, he has a keen sense of perception. Hong Kong did not truly hate Philia for the incident. But he simply fell in love with her. Whether it was at first sight or through a friendship, it would be good for both their peoples and their bosses. Although there was one problem: China.

South Korea, as Macau recalls, has an obsessive one-sided crush on Philia, though he knows that the latter always rejects his advances towards her (although beyond that point, he could care less). But China… that’s a different story.

Both China and Philippines were barely on good terms with one another, usually on territorial disputes, whether it’s fishing or the label of the sea between the two countries (China calls it the South China Sea, but both Philia and Luzon insist that it’s West Philippine Sea). Since the tour bus incident, both China and the siblings liked each other even less. This intense dislike was further displayed that China forbade Hong Kong to see or consort with Philippines ever again. Macau once said that the incident wasn’t Philippines’ fault and that he was being unreasonable, but China coldy ordered him to not say any further. Since then, Macau had been hoping that both Hong Kong and Philippines would put the tour bus incident aside.

On the other hand, Hong Kong would be depressed because his love for Philia was deep and strong. Macau then wondered if just being with this Filipina would be the only thing that would save him from his depression. Then again, there’s only around a few more weeks until the third anniversary of the incident, and it is highly possible that Hong Kong would die suddenly of a heart attack or a cardiac arrest, so there is probably not much time. Hopefully, Philia would be able to return his feelings in time.

Macau prayed that she would, and both she and Hong Kong would be together. Because between the two of them, time is already running out. Or so both of them thought.