Well, I love Hong Kong, so here's another story on him! AND it's historically based too, so enjoy!

I don't own Hetalia! end /AN/

The day Hong Kong returned, England was a little shocked to see how he had fared. Only a little, because he had heard tales of Japanese cruelty from America, tales he had wished simply weren't true. It had tortured him, hearing of the horrors happening to China and knowing they were happening to Hong Kong too. To be truthful, the colony hadn't exactly been the first thing on his mind throughout the war, but whenever he saw China at a meeting, he was reminded.

Now, he saw him here, and knew that his worrying had not been unwarranted. Hong Kong was smaller, much skinnier, than he'd last seen him, his cheeks sunken in and his eyes lifeless. Everyone had gotten skinnier, he knew (except America, his mind reminded him), but not to this degree. He walked slowly, not at all like the fast-paced person England knew he was, the one who could make tea, read a book and still keep up a conversation.

Hong Kong walked towards him, face drawn and tired, like only his own face should have to be. He paused in front of him, and gave a quick bow of the head, though his hands twitched at his sides. England cleared his throat. "How are you?"

"'ve been better." Hong Kong was always so frank, but even now he kept it gentle for England, as though the other hadn't heard of the atrocities committed. Some of his hair was in his face, and England reached out to brush it back, causing Hong Kong to flinch. He tried to shake it off, face going smooth again seconds after, but England's hand faltered, and drew back.

"We all have." England said quietly, gesturing to Hong Kong to take a seat. "I'll go fix you some tea. Know how much you like it and all," he muttered, hurrying off to the kitchen. When he got back, Hong Kong was sitting alertly, like he had forgotten how to relax. England tried to remember, what it had been like to undergo your first invasion. He knew it was painful, and that especially something like this would continue to haunt Hong Kong long after.

England reached out carefully, handing Hong Kong a teacup. "Sip it slowly, it's hot," he instructed mindlessly. A brief flicker of annoyance flashed through Hong Kong's eyes, coupled with a terse, "I know." Then it was gone, and Hong Kong's face was as smooth as ever. The awkward silence, however, continued.

Sipping his own tea, England carefully considered what he should do. Should he let Hong Kong deal with it all himself, or should he give him some sage advice? It seemed only the right thing to do.

"Hong Kong..." Where to start, where to start? "Yes?" Hong Kong seemed downright docile again. England swallowed thickly. "I know what it's like to be invaded, so if you need any help-"

"I'm fine." The reply was firm, but not quite rude, too quick to be true. And it seemed that they both knew it, as Hong Kong looked away guiltily. England stood up from his seat, slowly walking over to Hong Kong. "It's alright, everyone has their first time having something like this happen to them. It's okay to deal with it..." And he put a hand gently on Hong Kong's shoulder, with the latter flinching involuntarily. Hong Kong bit his lip, looking pointedly away from England.

"I'm just fine, I don't need- anything, I'm fine." His voice was slightly choked, and he brought a hand up to scrub at his eyes. England put his other hand on Hong Kong's empty shoulder, bringing himself down to the colony's level. "It's okay, it's okay to cry, it's alright," and he carefully pulled Hong Kong closer. Hong Kong practically collapsed into the hug, crying quietly. "England, I can't forget it, he's always there, whenever I close my eyes, whenever I fall asleep, he's there to stab me and kill my men for sport, and I can't- I can't-!"

"Sh, sh, it's alright, I'm here for you now," England promised, holding Hong Kong as tight as he dared, and rubbing his head. It was like when Hong Kong was a small child, and would be afraid of the thunder storms and crawl into his bed. Then he would hold him closely until he fell asleep.

Now, Hong Kong really was still a frightened child, as he sobbed into England's shirt. It made England wish Japan had to suffer for everything he'd done, that his people would be put through Hell and back, but he knew it wouldn't come true. The only thing he could do was comfort Hong Kong.

/AN/ So anyway, Hong Kong suffered a lot under the Japanese when they were occupied. The people starved, many of them were slaughtered following the invasion, and a lot of the women were raped. When it was finally freed, its population had gone from 1.6 million to 600,000, and it was only bolstered by the influx of Chinese fleeing Communist China in 1949.