Story Extras

Hong Kong was finally getting used to this…in a sense. Well, he was getting used to feeling strange pains in his butt (which he did not enjoy at all), and the feeling of something (someone) inside him. But that didn’t particularly mean he enjoyed it. In some way, he found it comforting to know he had something to look forward to at the end of this mess, but he certainly wasn’t sure whether or not he wanted to do this.

China told him that talking to the baby would might help him.

To be honest, Hong Kong was very skeptical of this idea. He didn’t think that ‘talking’ to this ‘baby’ would help him in any way. It probably wouldn’t even do anything.

But that’s what Hong Kong found himself doing one afternoon, after yelling at Korea for something he didn’t even remember. He was shamefully talking to it.

It.

He didn’t even know it’s gender, and he’s talking to it because he’s just so angry.

And he wasn’t even sure what he was trying to ‘talk’ to it about. It sounded like a cross between ‘you ruined my life’ and ‘I’m going to do my best to take care you’.

He was laying down, on his back, two fingers trailing down one side of stomach where he felt cramped. The baby was kicking there too, so he thought that he might get the attention of it (there’s the it again) by doing something.

When he finally decided to start actually talking to the…thing…he could barely find any words to really say. So he started with the classic lines. Hong Kong stopped trailing his fingers, and sat up, dangling his legs over the edge of the bed. He placed a hand on the one side where the baby was favoring when it kicked, so that it seemed like the kid was trying to kick his hand now. It was actually a pretty strange feeling, but Hong Kong was getting a little pleasure from it, actually.

“H-hi.” He couldn’t even get his voice higher than a low whisper. It was embarassing to him, to be talking to something that wasn’t even born. Especially since it was inside him. That in itself was a reason to not try at this. It probably couldn’t even hear him, so why bother?

It kicked again. It kicked his hand, like it wanted something. Like it wanted to recognized.

“Um…” Hong Kong felt the kid kicking again. It was starting to get a little tiresome. You would think that after doing it for so long, every day, the thing would get tired, right? “This is your…father speaking.”

He didn’t want to be seen as a ‘mother’, even though that’s what everyone was saying. It was either China telling him that ‘being a mother isn’t easy’, Taiwan saying ‘you’re so lucky, you get to be a mother, Hong!’ or Korea calling him the baby’s (thing’s) mama. Which was worse. So he stuck with father. He might be pregnant, but he was still a man. He was not willing to be called a mother.

“…and I…”

What am I supposed to say? This has basically destroyed my life…Hong Kong thought.

You couldn’t just straight-out say to someone that they ruined your life, and hated them for it. But Hong Kong didn’t know whether this officially as bad as he thought. Or, not as bad as he expected. At least there would be a result.

“I…just…don’t really know what to do anymore,” Hong Kong said slowly, like he was talking to a toddler. In his mind he was, though. He was talking to a three year old boy about how to tie his shoes, and was explaining it thoroughly enough for even a two year old, who could barely speak, could understand.

“I don’t know if I hate this, or if it’s something good or bad…but I don’t think that I can ever forgive him for it…no, I can’t. But I guess I’ll do my best to take care of you…”

The baby kicked again. Only this time, it wasn’t off to where Hong Kong’s hand currently was. It was more in the area he would rather not have something kick- and he knew exactly where it was right after he felt it- his bladder. And it was a sharp kick too, like the kind that’s hard enough to wake you up at night when you’re perfectly asleep. As much as Hong Kong tried to, he couldn’t just hold it all in. He had to pee already, and this was definitely not helping in any way. To admit it all, being pregnant had left weird effects on Hong Kong. Especially on his physical self (he didn’t want to think that the reason he was so angry all the time had anything to do with hormonal issues, as China said). One of those (strange) effects was that it seemed like his bladder was on the verge of going to explode every two hours. And that was not a pleasant feeling.

Hong Kong had no idea when the last time he’d actually peed himself. Maybe it was when he like six, and couldn’t find the bathroom at England’s house. That was quite some time ago, and Hong Kong could feel his face turning red, even though he was completely alone in the room. This was embarrassing, to have peed himself (as a grown man!). Even if it wasn’t by a lot, it still took a few minutes for Hong Kong to finally agree with the fact that the stupid kid had just kicked way too hard.

“Fucking kid…” Hong Kong muttered under his breath, lifting his heavy body of the bedside.

Just then, he came upon the realization that he had no clothes in the room. All of them were apparently being washed and dried.

Oh so now I have to go and get them, like this…with him down there…

Even if he was in complete hatred of Korea at the current moment, Hong Kong didn’t want to be seen like this. He was sure that most people would feel like that too. It wasn’t very obvious what had just happened, but Hong Kong could smell it. If he could, then everyone else could. But the last thing he wanted to do was stay in these clothes.

Grumbling to himself about how irritating this moment had just turned, he had no trouble going to the laundry room and picking out a pair his pants that still fit him. He heard Korea coming down the hall as he was leaving to go to the bathroom. The other man took one look at Hong Kong, and looked at the pair of pants he was holding.

“Um…what do you need that for?” Korea asked.

“Nothing,” Hong Kong said, shifting a little on his feet. That was another one of those weird things that seemed to have happened to him since he’d become pregnant. His feet hurt, just by standing on them.

“What’s that smell?”

Hong Kong just wanted to disappear right now.

“None of your concern, now let me through.” Korea was blocking the hallway. Hong Kong was stuck now.

“I just wanted to know what it is, it’s not like I’ll laugh or anything.”

“Your freaking kid doesn’t like to settle down. It kicked me in the bladder and I pissed myself. Enough for you?”

Korea could tell that Hong Kong was getting irritated now, and just sighed. Hong Kong narrowed his eyes at the man, and started down the hall. Suddenly, his feet slipped on one of the rugs on the wooden floor. And just as suddenly as this happened, Hong Kong felt something up against him (someone). He found himself grabbing onto the front of Korea’s shirt, gripping on the bunched up cloth.

Korea wasn’t even sure how he came to realize that Hong Kong was going to slip, but he caught the man before he did. He looked down at Hong Kong’s face, he was looking straight at him. Hong Kong’s face was turning a bright red (it was a prefect shade of it too), his eyes perfectly wide open, and his mouth opened in what seemed like a permanent gasp. Korea felt something up against his own stomach, and he recognized it as the (large) buldge in Hong Kong’s stomach. There was something coming off of it, like tiny bumps up against him. Hong Kong was still gripping on the shirt material.

After staying like this for another few seconds, Hong Kong promptly let go of Korea’s shirt, and went off down the hall. He didn’t even say anything else.

Omake for Just One Night. I just felt like writing it. PM, email, whatever, on your thought ;D

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