Oh wow, hey guys~ Thanks for the great great great reviews and I appreciate them a lot! Like, totally. Haha. I noticed that I haven't updated since January 21 of last year (ugh. D:) so for you guys, the third chapter! :D

-Chapter III-

It was nearing the end of the afternoon at that same day when England had tiredly stumbled upon a local fish market. At this hour, he had seen almost the complete opposite of what he had seen earlier: quiet, calm and a little bit clean with few people going about to and fro. Right now, it bustled with people who shouted about their produce here and there (or so what the Englishman could decipher) while some others, mostly women in humble clothing and scraggly buns, walked about to and fro, looking at the products. There was also a despicable stench in the air that picked at England's nose and spelled fish in it.

At this scene, England was beginning to debate to himself whether or not he should just turn around and walk away but he guessed he didn't have much choice then, since the road that sliced between one half of vendors to another led him out of the territory faster. He had to handle it, he thought furthermore. With a final sigh, England painstakingly prodded through the fish market.

"Oy, oy, bili na diyan ng isda. Isda po, o! O ginoong naka-sombrero, bili na po ng isda! (Oy, oy, buy some fish here. Fish here, o! You there, mister in a hat, buy some fish here!)" one vendor shouted. England deciphered that it was him that the vendor had called out to, since they had exchanged glances but the already weary (and possibly famished) England had chosen to ignore it.

He closed his eyes and heaved a heavy sigh as he pinched his nose bridge. "...You can get through this," he grumbled to himself after almost having bumped a pair of children, aging at around seven or eight (yet looking like five or so), that ran past him.

The calls and shouts continued on through the rest of England's small walk. The stench lived on too, and it made it hard for England to continue. The addition of the unbearable heat and the collection of different body heats made it harder for the man who was always comfortable with a cooler temperature. Yet, he kept thinking to himself that he would make it through... that he should make it through.

After several minutes though, England stopped dead in his tracks.

"Ale, magkano po ang kilo ng manok? (Miss, how much for a kilo of chicken?)" a small girl, vaguely familiar to the English, asked as she eyed several poultry. Her tanned skin looked fresher than before and thank god, she was wearing a cleaner set of clothes. Her black silky hair though, was still in an unkempt bun that tempted to fall off. From England's distance, much to his surprise, he could see more of the little girl's features, such as her bright black eyes that glinted with sheer innocence of a child (as she was), her small button nose crinkled a bit as she looked at the poultry with delight and her smile was the most child-like of all. It all fitted her. She looked so carefree yet responsible, untamed yet well-mannered, childish but adult-like. She was a perfect sense of contrasts that somehow fit together.

However, to England, one thing had come through his mind. 'Damn that bloody git for letting such a girl do all the dirty work,' he said with much vexation. This thought tempted him to come nearer and help the little girl, as such was his nature of a gentleman. But another part of him hesitated, telling him that he'd waste his time on a little girl, younger than him, more so.

'But who would even let a little girl go out and do the groceries?' one side of his mind argued. 'As a gentleman, we must assist the child!'

'Damn it, no!' the other shouted. 'If you want to get out of this hell-hole, then we should leave to her own business.'

And so it went on for England, who kept debating with himself on whether to help the girl or be on his way. He wanted to be a true gentleman yet be a bit selfish. He had enough for the day, he was ready to crash but the thought of America (a much older and capable man, to say) leaving Philippines (a younger girl) to do all the work while he rests away was bugging him, poking him in brain, in the gut and possibly in many other places as well that it made his whole body uncomfortable.

"...Damn it, I want to get out..." he grumbled, raising a fist as he closed his eyes. He stomped once then sighed as he made his way, hesitantly and painstakingly, towards the small girl, who had handed a bunch of coins to the vendor. Philippines smiled gleefully as she recieved the chicken meat and said a small thank you in her own native language.

England stopped by her and cleared his throat, not wanting to start the conversation directly. The small girl stopped and set her eyes on the towering foreign man. "A-Ah, g-good... good aft... aft..." Philippines stuttered as she tried to get the words out of her lips in an acceptable English since she knew that England wouldn't understand her if she spoke in Filipino.

"...Afternoon?" England finished as he eyed her more meticulously. He had taken note that she was carrying one of those woven bags and it looked like she use it for carrying the goods, and that she was wearing a worn out pair of rubber slippers.

"Ah! G-Good afternoon!" Philippines said in a brighter tone as she reached her hand out for England's. Such was her culture to make a respectable move. England had noted this and stopped her midway.

"I-It's okay, little one," he excused as Philippines took a step back and smiled. "You don't have to," he continued as he looked at Philippines who just smiled back. England was a bit baffled that the kid wasn't scared or intimidated of him, at all. Usually, kids her age (more or less) would be scared of his strict and straight atmosphere. His curiosity piqued even more at this.

"...Where is... America?" England asked as he cleared his throat once more just to relieve the awkward situation.

"Kuya 'Merica... is... home..." the girl replied, striving to make her broken English recognizable at the least. It worked, of course, as it gave England the urge to glove slap America to oblivion. Of course, England thought, that that would be ineffective. America never learned. Not now, not ever.

Snapping back to the situation, England looked back at Philippines and sighed. "What are you doing out, late... Philippines, am I right?" he said as he was unsure of her monicker. He heard America introduce her earlier but didn't really listen as rage was only in his mind at that time. The girl replied with a gleeful nod then looked around, as if she was finding something. Eventually, she raised her woven basket up for England to see and somehow understand why she was out at that time.

"...Fresh... ingredients!" she squeaked. "...For hapunan."

England looked in the basket: vegetables, a couple of fish and some chicken meat. The Englishman figured that hapunan meant dinner as it was nearing evening and the only meal that can be eaten at that hour was dinner. He looked around and saw that almost everybody was doing the same as Philippines was: shopping for dinner.

"Are you... finished, yet?" England asked after straightening himself and making it sound like it wasn't awkward. The girl looked at England for a while and blinked at him blankly. Seeing this, England sighed and figured that what he was saying didn't make much sense to her. Of course, he thought, mentally slapping himself, stupid language barrier.

He bent down at Philippines' eye level, the latter's gaze following his. "Are you... done? Buying... ingredients...?" he said rather slowly, wanting to be understood this time. It looked like it worked because Philippines brightened up and smiled, giggling as she nodded. England sighed, thinking to himself that the small country might have not known what the word 'finished' was yet.

"I will... go home... now..." Philippines said gleefully as she tried to speak in English, as painful as it was for her as she didn't know much. But this fact was masked by her current face value as she looked more innocent that ever.

"I will walk you home, is that okay?" England said as kindly as he could. He tried to mellow down his voice into a soft and smooth one, hoping to attract the young girl into walking with him. However, this hadn't work by just looking at Philippines' rather horrified face. It was clear to England that the language barrier won once again and he would never have any chance in interacting with children ever.

"Oy, ginugulo ka ba nitong bastardong ito? (Hey, is this bastard messing with you?)" a skinny tanned man behind Philippines said. Obviously, the people in the place didn't like what was going on, concerning that England did scare Philippines maybe a tiny bit. England may not have fully understood what the man had said but he presumed that the man called him a bastard. This made England both nervous and angry.

However, the little girl twirled around and shook her palms at the man. " H-Hindi ho! I-Ingles po siya! (N-No sir! H-He's English!)" Philippines replied with a rather terrified tone. To the young girl, any more trouble was the last thing she needed for that day. She hadn't taken it into liking. To England, her tone made him even more tense.

"Ah, ganon ba? Sabihin mo lang kapag ginugulo ka nitong bastardong ito, ah. (Oh, is that so? Just tell me if that bastard is messing with you, ok.)" There was that word again. Bastard. "Umuwi ka na kaya. Baka kung ano pang gawin sa iyo. (Why don't you go home. Who knows what else he could do to you.)" England winced. These people were talking about him in front of him. In his face. Had these people no shame or was it the fact that he was English that enabled them to talk about him? He hated not having to know.

"O-Opo. Pauwi na po ako, manong, (Y-Yes sir. I'm actually on my way home now, sir.)" the younger nation said respectfully as the man smiled at the small girl, clearly not having known of her status as the country yet. Before the man left, he gave England the eye, much to the Englishman's dismay as he furrowed his thick eyebrows at him.

"I will go home now," Philippines said amidst England's train of silent death threats at that man. England looked back at Philippines and tried his best not to smile. Rather, he cleared his throat.

"I... I apologize," he said clearly, making Philippines' head tilt a bit. A few hair strands finally fell from her bun. England sighed once more. "I am sorry," he repeated just so Philippines could understand. And that she did as she looked at England with a sad tint in her eye. It was the innocence of her working, looking at England with her saucer-like eyes. "...I wanted to... walk with you... to your home," he repeated, this time making gestures that were understandable.

Philippines only giggled solemnly at him and nodded. "I... forgive... you," she replied, still struggling. "...You can... walk... with me..." she added, making the same gestures as England did with her own comparably smaller hands. "...Home," she finished as she pointed behind England. The older man looked behind him and sighed.

'Damn it... looks like I'm going to have to go back,' he thought to himself as he watched Philippines walk by with his emerald eyes. Philippines looked as if she was really excited to go back as she was pulling on England's coat like a child.

"...Follow," she only said as she began to walk, her rubber slippers flopping on the unpaved dirt.

He had to admit it, but the night seemed more peaceful than the day. And England wasn't even a night person himself. Although it was comparably more pitch dark than his homeland, the night was soothing as the constant chirping of crickets filled the air. A little bit of a night breeze also flew by, making it colder than the day.

Nonetheless, it didn't stop England from classifying the night in Philippines' homeland as eerie.

From their thirty minute walk, England had found out that Philippines can understand a little bit of English, hence her adorable (and yet a little bit disgusting, to him) attatchment to America. She found him as more of a big brother than a superior despite America calling Philippines his colony in front of her face. Maybe she didn't know what a 'colony' meant yet and it might be one of England's first lessons to Philippines.

He actually pitied the younger nation. The little lass had just got out of Spain's grasp recently and now America was deciding on taking over the little country. Yet she didn't know what was happening even though she had noticed already that no Filipino (including her) could make entry into her capital yet. And he had to admit that America was smart doing that.

Philippines stopped before a road of trees, making England stop as well. At this point, the older nation was more curious than furious as to why they had stopped. He proceeded in asking, only to recieve silence from her. Next thing he knew, the smaller nation called out to the forest: "Tabi tabi po!"

England blinked. What was she doing? Was this some kind of nature call? Was a police force going to show up and capture England from earlier's ruckus? That, he didn't know but he waited, silent and still. Philippines waited as well, waiting for England to copy her. Of course, England hadn't known that.

The girl looked up at England and tugged on him. "Follow," she urged as she pouted. England looked down at her with curious eyes and sighed. He figured that Philippines wanted to follow her into saying such thing, but he didn't know how.

"Er... uh... Ta...bi... tabi po?" he said in a rather humorous accent that it almost made Philippines giggle.

"Makikiraan lang po! (We're just going to pass through!)" Philippines followed after then walked ahead, pulling England in with her. However baffled he was, the Englishman followed, looking at Philippines with a wondering eye. He was about to ask when the smaller girl just looked up at him with those same innocent eyes, matching it with a toothy grin. "Spirits," she only said and it took only that to convince England for England was also a spiritual guy in that same sense too.

After a few minutes of more walking (England hadn't counted, he was too tired from walking almost all day long), a hint of yellow light had come along their sight, settling it at the end of the road. Philippines only smiled up to the towering man and said: "Home" in the most gleeful way. England was starting to wonder if this was really worth the time but settled that aside as of now. The man sighed for the nth time that day as he was both tired, hungry and annoyed to his extent.

As the two got nearer, he noticed that the smaller girl let go of England's hand eventually and knocked on the wooden door. England just watched from where he stood, just outside the Spanish patio, shuffling his feet from soreness. Heavy footsteps occurred inside as Philippines waited patiently, her small stature rocking back and forth. Finally, the door opened with an overly worried American beaming at the small country. He was wearing the same clothes from earlier and probably (or most likely) didn't bathe since the last they saw each other. The yellow light from inside had poured out and shone on the ground up until where England stood.

"Oh my god, Philippines! You're home! Oh my god, oh my god!" America blabbered on, making England wince once or maybed twice from America's high pitched sounds of relief. The bigger man had proceeded to hug the smaller country as the latter was just giggling away. Truly, for England, America had meant a lot to the girl. Almost like a father figure.

Only stupider.

And more annoying.

And probably denser.

England could go on with the adjectives he had for America but was cut off when America was loudly talking to Philippines. "Oh my god, you're cooking chicken adobow tonight? Sweet!" he said. Take note of the added 'w' as that was really the way that America had said it. It sounded humorously painful to the ear as he said it. "C'mon! Get inside! I'm starving!" America laughed as the little girl laughed along, obviously oblivious to the fact that it was a command from the bigger nation. America continued to laugh as he watched Philippines scamper away playfully into the kitchen.

"Oh hey, Iggy!" America greeted after a few good minutes. England wondered at how long America had taken notice of him. "Thanks for bringing little Philippines home. She's scared of the dark y'know."

England raised a brow at the nation, somehow not getting why America would say such a thing about the little girl. Philippines hadn't shown any signs of fear around him or at the night as they were walking together. "What made you say that?" England said sourly and skeptically at him.

"Oh she's afraid of this tikbalang thing," America said, laughing at the foolishness that was of the little girl's brain. "She said that it comes and kidnaps little girls and marries them off. Has a horse for a head but could stand on his hind legs. Has hands of a human. Freaky right? I bet it doesn't exist anyways," the nation continued optimistically, looking at England with a cheeky grin unbeknownst to him.

"But she believes it does?" England inquired blankly, trying not to sound interested in it. He didn't want to get involved in many things. He always liked to be alone. Such was his attitude.

"Oh yeah. She does. But that's why she has me as her hero!" America said, jerking his thumb to himself. "I kick the air once or twice and it goes away... well... she says it does..." he mumbled as his eyes cast down, looking curious. He then looked at England with a cat-like smile and those annoying blue eyes. "Y'know, the two of you could go along real swell!" he added, making the other nation jump in his place in surprise.

"No... no thank you," England mumbled in reply.

All of a sudden, a high pitched scream of a little girl resonated around the house, making America only wince but England cover his ears altogether. "TIKBALANG! TIKBALANG!"

"Oh, be right back, dude," America said, smiling as he ran for the kitchen. "Don't worry! Your hero is here!" he called, leaving England at where he stood, just outside the patio looking so dumbfounded. From his place, his ears could pick up crashing sounds of pots and pans, so ear-pricking and more little girl screams.

"AAAIIIIEEEE!"

"HAMBURGER KICK!"

England hadn't bothered to move from his place. Seeing such atrosity would be the last he needed. He only sighed at the ongoing foolishness and prayed to himself that everything wasn't happening. But everything was happening, right now, from where he was standing.

The noises died down inside but more shouts can be heard from America saying: "And stay out, you freakish monster!" England knew that it was all an act for the bigger country but groaned nonetheless at the stupidity. Even if he did believe in fairies, elves, pirates, flying mint bunnies and all that jazz, he believed that a girl her age was just making that up. Heck, he believed that Spain only made those things up to scare poor little Philippines. Living next or almost near to Spain, he knew that the Spaniard had a knack to do that to little children just to show his rather childish side.

But boy, was England wrong.

From where he was standing, he heard the clapping of hooves and the whining of a horse. England turned to look, slightly, just slighty, at the the side of the house, where he believed where the kitchen was. And there he saw, with the remaining house light he had been offered, a horse, clopping away from the house with human-like hands clutching onto his snout. It seemed to be crying as it entered the woods and finally disappeared.

England swore that the color on his face almost vanished.

. . t b c . .

Oh hey look. Philippines was in this chapter! Hooray! xD So yeah... I got lazy at the end, I'm sorry. TT-TT But I will try and update as possible as I can. R&R you guys! :D