Warning: OoC. AU.

Pairing: UK X China.

I got a sudden impulse to delete it. So I am really sorry for people who read it halfway and found it gone. But I promise I wont delete it again. I don't have confident for this story, so I am sorry if it;s really badly written. in fact, this was one of my first story (But I changed the characters) so it maybe not really as amusing for some. Sorry.

Enjoy!

Yao kept his silent while watching how his family has grown into the kind of complicated family with members enough to fill a round family table in a Chinese restaurant. They were, as usual, having their monthly family dinner. They had it in the usual place, a Chinese restaurant downtown which was famous for its dinner yum cha varieties. But Yao felt like he was somewhere else, alienated and alone.

Usually it was just him and his parents; his father would be by his left and his mother would be on Yao's right side. They would eat the usual yum cha varieties, his mother loves the dumpling and his father wants the chicken's feet. Then Yao would have his favourite black sesame porridge as dessert. Everybody was happy. Usually.

Until 2 years ago. And now his family has separated and grown, depended on how he sees it, because his parents had divorced and both re-married within the year. His mother has married another guy who had a twin set of boys. His father had married another lady who had three children, boy-girl-boy respectively. And thus, his family has grown. Now Yao is the oldest brother for 6 siblings and two sets of parents—two papa(s) and two mama(s).

The twins' names were Yong Soo and Hyong Soo. The other sets of siblings were named Kiku, Taiwan and Kaoru (Hong) respectively. That night was the first time Yao met them to eat together. They stared at each other awkwardly, but since everybody was brought under strict Asian culture, everybody respected everybody. They started the dinner in peace and continued to do so.

Yao stared on his plate. It was empty. Usually it never was. Either his father or his mother would urge Yao to get something to eat, or putting stuff on his plates. His plates used to be always full with the dumplings or chicken feets. But tonight, the plate was clean.

His father was busy smiling and putting chicken feets on his stepchildren's plate. His mother was busy urging her stepsons to eat more dumplings. And Yao's stepparents were busy talking to each other, in the desperate attempt to stay civilized.

And Yao's plate remained empty.

Somehow it made everything unbearable. Yao bit his lips. He looked at his father, but he was too busy trying to engage Kiku in conversation. Yao turned to his mother, just to find out that his mother was laughing at Yong Soo's joke.

Yao felt alienated. It was a Saturday night, the place was crowded, and everybody was shouting to each other, the room was noisy. The whole place was so cramped and hot. But he felt alone, silent, and cold.

"… I want the dumpling, aru."

Yao tugged his mother's arm. But his mother smiled.

"You can get it yourself, Yao."

Failed, Yao turned to his father.

"… I want the chicken feet too, aru."

His father smiled when he heard Yao's voice and answered,

"Yes, but please wait until everybody else get theirs because this is their first time trying this restaurant. Please be patient, Yao."

Yao swallowed and his mind wondered. He always wanted to be a spoon. He hates chopstick. The Chinese utensils were hard to use, and they needed to be used in pairs. Yao likes spoon better because spoon can always be used alone. So he needed nothing else. Just spoon.

Yao knew he was just being childish. His mother was right, he was already 8; he could take his own food. His father was right; everybody else needed the chicken feet better than him, because Yao has been eating the same thing for years now. And he was the oldest, he should be mature and calm and wide hearted and be patient.

But his plate stayed empty. Even until they ordered the dessert.

Yao's eyes started to blurry. He bit his lips, trying to keep his silent, despite his growling stomach. It's not like he couldn't get food by his own, it's just that he really wanted someone to put it on his plate. He needed someone to put a damn something on his plate. Anything. But the longer he waited, the clearer it was that he was ignored.

Is it because his parents were divorced? Is it because he was no longer their only child? Is it because he was the oldest child on the table? Is it because his parents were too busy taking care of their other family? Is it because he was no longer the most important thing in his parent's life? Is it because they no longer love each other, so they no longer love him? Will it be like this onwards?

And the cup of black sesame porridge appeared on the table. He stopped thinking and watched how the porridge moved alongside the spinning round plate. Yao wanted it so much, he could feel it in his mouth, it was the most delicious thing, it was always his. But his mother took the cup and presented it in front of the twin.

Yao was frozen. But then his father ordered another black sesame porridge; and Yao was sure his father remembered and ordered it for him. Yao.

But his father put it in front of Taiwan and Kaoru, smiling, saying that the thing tasted great and it was one of the specialities of the restaurant.

That was it. Yao gritted his teeth. He was not happy. He was not full. He was angry, and hungry and disappointed and sad. Following his blind rage, he took his empty plate and smashed it to the floor.

PRANG!

Everybody stopped to find out what happened. The room was suddenly still.

"Ya..Yao.." His mother stuttered, "Why did you drop the plate, my son?"

"Yao, what is this? Tell us the reason why you are so careless like this!" His father scolded him.

Yao's eyes get more blurry. Tears started to flow down his cheek. His father and mother looked taken aback and they tried to touch him, but Yao flinched and snapped his parent's reaching hand away. Instead, he ran to the bathroom he knew so well and went in. He entered the last cubicle and started to sob.

Please, please let someone come, Yao sobbed and sobbed. Please let one of his parents to come and care and asked him why, soothed him and asked him to get back to the dining hall. Please, please, please.

His hands grew cold and his stomach grumbled. But still, nobody came.

"…Yao?"

Finally. Yao's face perked up. He stayed silent and refused to open the cubicle's door, but he kept his ears opened.

"Yao? Come out, son."

It was his father. Yao finally opened the door and looked at him. But he wasn't smiling, or looking apologetic. Instead, his father was angry.

"Don't be such an immature boy! I never raised you like this! You cannot just smash your plate because you didn't get your porridge! Now, apologize to everyone and then you can get your own porridge!"

Yao couldn't believe his ears. His father was angry, instead of feeling guilty. It was somehow all his fault.

"… But I am hungry, aru…"

"Nonsense. We have ordered a lot of food, and when I asked who wants the leftover, you didn't say anything! Don't be so childish over a porridge!"

It's not a porridge! Yao wanted to scream. It's not about food! It's about how I am angry and hungry and alone! I hated to be ignored!

But instead, he stayed silent and only sobbed louder. His father's face fell and started to soothe his son.

"Yao… come on, stop crying. Fine, Daddy is not angry over the plate anymore…"

It's not that, aru!

"… come. Let's go back to the table and you apologize and then we will go home…"

It's not, NOT that, aru!

"… and mom is waiting. Let's go."

It's not that… aru. It's not that. It's…

He woke up from his dream. Beside him laid England, smoking his cigarettes and reading morning newspaper. The British man looked at China and wiped the Asian's tears.

"Finally, you are awake. Nightmare, Yao?"

China refused to answer and stayed silent. England sighed.

"Fine. I won't ask. But you need to move. You have a lecture this morning, am I right?"

China nodded and rose up. He stretched his body and wiped his cheek. It was dry from crying. Embarrassing. He still cried from a dream about his childhood memory. Shame on him.

China moved from the bed and paraded half nakedly (he only wore England's shirt top) over the room. It was England's apartment, tidy and stiff just like British style. The only unusual thing was his clothes, which were scattered all through the floor from a very heated night. China took his pants from the carpeted floor and continued walking to the bathroom when England suddenly asked.

"… Have you thought about my suggestion of moving in together, Yao?"

China's steps were halted. He turned to the British man on the bed. They have been going out for a year. They met up in the arts lecture, in university thousands of miles from China's home. From the single dinner where he was convinced his parents didn't care about him anymore, Yao has leaved his country, living in boarding houses all through his middle and high school, and finally took a course in the university 12 hours away from his homeland.

"…No. I don't want to think about it, aru."

"It's been a year since we went out, Yao. My parents approved you. My apartment is big enough for both of us. I cannot wait longer than this, Yao."

"… Then you can just break it up with me, aru."

"Not this again." England sighed and put down his newspaper. "Why are you so afraid of commitment?"

"…" China bit his lips. He had been living alone ever since the night he despite so much. He was convinced that his parents wouldn't care anymore, so he took part time jobs (he was multi-skilled because of that) and lived his life alone. He never contacted home, and jumped from partners to partners. He saw everybody as friends with benefits, and caused so many heartbreaks along the way, but he has stayed with the British for almost a year, which was a record for him. So he understood what England meant. And he knew England wanted him to move in because China was practically spending most of the days in a week inside the Britain man's apartment anyway. But still, he felt uncomfortable when he thought about the prospect of living together with someone else. "… I am not afraid. Give me more time, aru."

"No matter how long I give you time, I am sure you won't ever come to a decision. Yao, we need to talk about this. We really need to talk about your fear, Yao."

"I am not afraid of anything, aru." China hissed and looked away. "If you really think I am that indecisive, why don't you just ditch me, aru? You can find better lovers who willing to move in with you. I don't care."

"Not this again…" England sighed. "I have told you so many times, I only want you. I can wait, Yao. But if you keep running like this, nothing will change, and you will stay as a coward like now."

China flinched. "I … I am not a coward, aru."

"…Come here." England signed his hand, but China stayed on his feet. So England moved out from the bed and walked towards China instead. China was a good head shorter than the British man, so when England hugged him, China's face was buried on England's chest.

"Don't push me away, Yao. I feel hurt every time you tried to do it. Why don't you just speak out what you want?"

"I have told you, aru. I am not ready to move in."

"Why? Because you are afraid I will invade your privacy?"

"…No." They both knew it was true. Their privacy has diffused together in the year they were going out and now England could proudly claimed that he knew where China put his money and bank stamp whereas China could point immediately the place England hid his collection of ero books.

"Then?"

"I don't know, aru. But I feel that if I move in, everything will crumble and change."

"Is that it? You are afraid our relationship would change?"

"…I want to be independent, aru."

"You are the most independent man I've ever met, Yao. You paid your own school and living fee with all those odd jobs you took. You are self-sufficient and could do everything, Yao. You even got the scholarship. You are independent enough as it is."

"Stop saying things like that about me. I don't like people pointing out those unimportant details. Hmph! Look at you, getting millions per weeks from your share markets, aru!"

"Yao..." England smiled. He just loved the deviant part of China. "Come on, I am sorry I kept it from you, but it's not like I got it every week. I have my bad days too. I didn't mention how I lost a million before I get those twenty, alright?"

China hugged back, tighter. He bathed himself in England's scent. They were hugging each other, in the middle of the room. It would look awkward, but China loved it. Having long, continuous useless conversation with England was one of China's newest habits. And so, he continued.

"… Arthur… I don't know, aru. I am used with being alone. I don't want to depend on other people. I was disappointed once, and it was… painful aru." China stopped talking. He was surprised on his own sentence. He was disappointed? When? Where? Why?

"When was it, Yao? Tell me?"

The memory of his childhood flashed clearly through his mind when England asked him. China bit his lips. Was that why he was so afraid of making any relationship? The memory of the last dinner he had with his family? Ridiculous. It was just a dinner. It was nothing.

But maybe it is not nothing. Maybe it was everything.

"… When I was small…" China held his breath. It was hard to explain, but maybe England could help him. Maybe. "My parent got divorce aru."

"Yes. I know that. In fact, that was the only thing I know about your family. Was that painful? Was that the reason why you are afraid of change, Yao?"

"It wasn't like that, aru. You don't see the point. I was happy they separated. It was getting unbearable, the shoutings, the fights, the cold wars… I was happy when they got their divorce aru."

Silent overcome them. England waited, but the clock on the wall showed that if China did not step out from his place in another 2 second, he would be late for the first class.

"We can continue this later. You need to go, Yao."

"You don't have class today aru?"

"It's my day off today." England smiled and kissed the lithe beauty. China smiled and let go of his hands. "Enjoy your day, my love."

"I will, aru."

He always ran whenever the other party has crossed the line of being intimate. It was a given that people whom he slept with started to care about him. But China always left them once they crossed the line of wanting commitment. He reasoned that he didn't want to be tied; he was still young. Only England has succeeded into wooing him to bed and stayed as his boyfriend for more than 3 months.

China watched the boring slides and closed his eyes when suddenly his phone vibrates. He saw that he got a message and opened it. He was caught unguarded when he read the sender's name.

Mother.

China bit his lips. Should he or should he not read the message? It has been years since he ever received a message from his parents. It was, true, his wish to stay overseas and away from his immediate family. But his parents never really tried to contact him either. They were not good with phone—none could hold a conversation, or maybe because China always busy to actually talked to them. His parents eventually made a point that they understood China's busy schedule and reduced the calls. China seldom came back home (in those years he only went back home once and felt awkward because he had no actually place to call home—his father's house or his mother's new apartment?) And since China was quite self sufficient and needed no approval from his parents once he was over the legal age, the message activity has reduced to almost zero. In recent years a message saying 'happy birthday' was the only thing he received from and sent to his parents. And that day was nobody's birthday.

Should he or should he not?

It took him half an hour to finally bring his eyes to read the message.

How are you? It's been so long. I only need to ask you something. When can you come back home? Please reply me ASAP.

China held his breath, the lecture forgotten, his mind was occupied with the message. 'Should he come home?' was the question. He didn't like the awkwardness when he went home the last time. True, it was years ago, but he could remember vividly how awkward it was in the airport when he was fetch by his father's new wife. He was uncomfortable in the conversation in the car, feeling bad when he saw how Japan stared at him, hating him for taking his bedroom for the week (event though it used to be China's room when his parents were still living together in the house). China could still remember how awkward it was when he moved to his mother's apartment with her new husband. He felt awkward to share the room with the twins because he was used to having a room for himself. And the most unbearable thing was when his parents and their new husband/wife invited him to eat in the same Chinese restaurant again. Which he refused, but nevertheless it still was a nightmare. He was so relieved when he got into the airport check in by the end of that week.

So back to the next question, should he or should he not answer?

"I am here." England walked closer to the sofa where China was sitting (he had the key) and kissed the beauty's temple. It was China's apartment, smaller and barer than England's because China didn't keep useless stuff. After getting a short message from China asking him to drop by, England was intrigued and he went there as soon as he could. But China seemed like ignoring his greetings and continued staring blankly at the television. It was a cheap soap opera and England felt strange. Usually China wouldn't pay much attention to such TV channel.

"Hey, you are not working today?"

"… I call in sick, aru."

"Are you sick, Yao? Want me to drive you to the doctor?"

"No. It's just headache, aru." China flipped the channel and changed it into news. But his face stayed impassive and his finger moved relentlessly on the remote.

"You want to continue our talk this morning? Or is there something else bothering you? Tell me."

"No. Nothing, aru." China turned to England, pretending to smile. "How was your day, Arthur?"

"It was good. I got some good money. I got into a fight with another broker, but it ends well. But nevertheless; tell me what's going on in your mind. It's unusual for you to call in sick just because headache, Yao."

China swallowed. He knew he couldn't divert the topic when England was dead set on asking things about him. "Arthur, tell me what to do. … My mother messaged me. She asked me when… I can go home, aru."

"Talk about good timing. How about the starting summer holiday next week? I want to meet your parents, since you have met mine. How about the local winery? Would they love wine? Or should I get something else? Maybe cigarettes, or food…"

"…I don't want to go home aru."

England stopped chanting his thoughts about what should he bring for China's parents and watched as his lover surly changed the TV channel.

"…Why?"

"Because I don't feel there as my home, aru. I hate to be awkward and imposing on their new families. I don't feel like belong there, aru. I… I just hate it."

"… But your mother asked you to come home, Yao. You should, at least reply her."

"We have not playing the family game for years, aru." China bit lips. He didn't know why, but he wanted to cry so badly. "And suddenly she asked me to go home? What home? Ridiculous, aru! I don't remember having their addresses on my passport!"

England sighed and took the Asian into his embrace. China meekly obeyed the gesture and found himself inside England's arms. They shifted until they felt comfortable, and then England started again.

"Maybe she just missed you, Yao?"

"Impossible. 10 years I've been gone, aru. 7 happy birthday messages and that was it. She never cared. They never cared. What home? The last time I was there my room has changed into Kiku's room! And he made me feel like I was the one who took his room, aru! What house? Bullshit!"

"You are angry?"

China stopped raging and dropped his face. "… I am not. Well, I think I am not angry, but I think I am actually angry, aru."

"I see."

"Look, it has been years, aru. I have left home and they said nothing. They said they wanted to be supportive, and yet I felt like they thrown me away, aru."

"…Didn't they try to contact you throughout the years, Yao?"

"… I was an eight years old boy, aru. I asked to move away from home. Didn't that say anything to you? But they didn't care. So they followed my wish. I got my first part time job when I was 11, aru. 11. I even forged my ID for it. Shouldn't that tell you something? But they don't care. Then I moved even further. I only came home once in these 10 years. But they didn't even ask why. And I am sure they were relieved when I went back to my boarding house, aru, because they didn't care anymore. They praised me for being independent early because they don't need me to complicate their life with me. They wanted me out of their life. They won't even pay attention. I bet even if I pierced my whole body and coloured my hair green and went to go military they still won't care aru. And now, suddenly asking me to go back home, aru? They are too selfish!"

"… Hush. It's OK, Yao."

"It's not OK! I have been living alone all these years—lonely, hating every second when I see how all my friends have weekly calls or letters or return home every week, aru! I hate being the only one who stayed in the boarding house with the cleaner, aru! I spent my holidays working to pay my school fee, aru!"

"But did they not offer to pay?"

"… They did. But I didn't let them because I don't want to give them the satisfaction feeling of thinking they give me a living, aru! I am independent and I am strong, I don't need people who don't want me, aru!"

"Why do you think they don't want you?"

China snapped and growled. "Why are you siding with them? They are the one who clearly showed me how they don't care anymore! My plate remained empty until the end, aru! I didn't get my porridge at all, and I got scolded. Why can't you understand, aru? They just don't care anymore!"

"…Sssh. Calm down. Please tell me what plate and what porridge are you referring to?"

China bit his lips, and realized that he was crying. Since when? But England's calming embrace made his rage subsided.

"… When I was small, they got divorce, aru."

"Yes, I can recall you telling me that."

"… We used to be a happy family, aru. We used to spend a night every month, having dinner in this Chinese restaurant, aru. My parents would pile up food on my plates until I said I am full, aru. Then we will get my favourite black sesame porridge as dessert."

"…I see. And then?"

"…They remarried. And they have new families. And when we went to the restaurant for the first dinner together, they were so busy with their new family and…" China swallowed. "… My plate remained empty. I was hungry. But it stayed empty. I asked, but I was ignored. They even gave my porridge away aru. I was angry. I smashed the plate. But they didn't care and scolded me instead. That night I asked them to send me away to the boarding house. A week following the dinner, I was sent to the boarding place. I know they were happy I asked. So they not need to think about whom I should live with aru. Because when they were divorcing each other, I was not in their calculation. They assumed the other would care, aru."

"…Maybe it's just your own imagination, Yao…"

"Stop." China rise up, body tensed. "I get it. You think I am wrong. You think I am being childish. You think I am being selfish, distancing myself yet want them to follow me, to woo me. That's what you think, right, aru?"

"No, Yao. Listen to me…"

"No. YOU listen. You said that you want me to talk. Now I am talking and all you can do is siding with them. You think I am wrong, childish, selfish, right? Fine, aru. I don't need your opinion. Just leave, please. I don't want to see you, aru."

"I am not saying that." England sighed. He refused to move from the sofa. "I am thinking more to the fact that you never told them what you think and they never made you understand what they were thinking. I think it's hard on both of you. They didn't know how to make you feel better and you don't know to accept their separation. Tell me, did you ever tell them that you actually want the plate to be filled?"

"I did aru! I asked! But they said I need to be patient because apparently, their new families are more important than me. I was never important. I was always alone. So why should I think of them as important? Why should I listen? I don't care because they don't care!"

"This is you. Caring. About them. You care, Yao. You wanted them to understand how you feel. But you can't make them understand by staying silent and refused to see them, Yao. You need to tell them exactly what you think. If, after you told them, they still don't care about you, I will personally kick them. You can always leave them and live with me, Yao. My family likes you, that's for sure."

"… So are you saying I need to go home aru?"

"Yes. And don't forget to tell them you are bringing me with you."

"…Can't I just not reply them aru? Pretend I never read the message, aru?"

"Yao, if you want to stay angry all your life, you can do that."

China bit his lips. England hugged him tighter from behind. The conversation ping ponged between yes or no replying the message. Eventually, England won. After making sure China replied to the message, they continued the conversation in bed.

"I used to want to be a spoon, aru."

"Spoon?"

"Yes, aru. Because spoon can always be used independently of other utensils. I want to grow faster, be independent faster, so I won't be a burden to people who don't want me, aru."

England stared gently at his lover, who was staring out at the window. They were in the plane, 6 hours away from meeting China's families. China was restless and pale, clearly anxious and uncomfortable. They almost made a scene in the airport when China abruptly stopped moving in front of the immigration check queue line and refused to move. Or when suddenly China had a stomach-ache, clearly determined to miss their flight.

"But even spoon have its own pair, Yao. If you want to be a spoon, I can be a fork. Then we are complimenting each other without being dependent of each other."

"… Fork. I never think about it, aru."

"It's all right, Yao. Everything will be fine."

"… How are you so sure about that, aru?"

"Because we finally move in together." England smirked. "Finally you can receive me fully and I won't disappointed you, Yao. I promise."

"Stupid, ahen." China blushed and smiled back, and they kissed.

The steward smiled behind their chair and gently asked them to open their seat tables as she needed to give them the midflight snacks.

END

Anyway, I think I end this thing here because I dont have a resolution with this. Suggestion?

By the way, I have added a sort of continuation of this story. You can find it here: ww w. fanfiction .net/s/6277588/1/Reality

Thank you. Review?