[Fic] An Island With an Expiry Date (for fivedayslater)
Title: An Island With An Expiry Date (by webcomix)
Recipient: fivedayslater
Characters: Hong Kong, England, China, America, Canada, Japan
Rating: K+
Summary: The story of Hong Kong's growth as a city and a person
Notes: Really long!
An Island With An Expiry Date
Prompt: Something with England and Hong Kong, where Hong Kong absolutely refuses to like him, but over the years England wears him down. If you can include the Japanese Occupation during WWII that would be awesome too.
A/N: I have to admit that this was the PERFECT prompt. I've been planning to write a very long-winded, detailed, multi-chapter about this very subject (Hong Kong history) for a really long time, and this was the perfect opportunity to test it out with a shorter prototype. I've never written a pure history fic before, so I hope you like it ^-^
July 1843
It was hot. Unbearably hot. England mopped his brow with a handkerchief for the umpteenth time. Summer in this wretched location was comparable to a slow, painful death. The high ceilings and open windows of the building weren't enough to prevent the air from settling around his shoulders like an invisible fog.
Out the window, he could see men bustling around, getting this colony on its feet. It had been nearly two years since claiming the island for the Empire. To him, it was as if the city had sprung from the ground in a flash, with people from all over the globe pouring in to feast upon China's riches. England watched as two lean, tanned Chinese men walked past briskly, toting the bamboo bars of a sedan chair upon their shoulders. The wealthy Dutchman seated on top fanned himself with a glove.
His fingers drummed impatiently on the table top, and he felt his gaze shift to the creamy piece of paper a few centimetres away.
TREATY OF NANKING, it read.1
In accordance to the events that occurred at Tinghai and Guangzhou in 1840-1841, the Qing kingdom will grant to the United Kingdom of Great Britain:
Signed, August 29 1842.
And ratified June 1843, thought England. By both rulers of either kingdom. China could no longer delay his payment…which is exactly what he was waiting for now.
The sound of footsteps finally came to his ears, so England quickly dropped the treaty and sat up straighter. Not a second too soon, the doors flew open.
For a defeated nation, China did not look pitiful at all. A better term would be embarrassed. Humiliated, even. Certainly irritated and resentful. Glaring straight at England, the country stomped into the room, a small child in tow.
England hid a smirk. So much for dignity and maturity. But none of this was a surprise - after all, the old man's belief that he was still the world's top power was severely mistaken, and thus had become his downfall.
"Took you long enough," he said, rising gracefully from his chair. "I was beginning to think that I would have to come over there and fetch it all myself."
China scowled at him. "No respect as always, England. Let us get straight to the matter at hand. Idle chatter will not improve anything at this hour."
He was right, of course. England nodded. "The silver. Have you brought it?"
China pointed mutely out the window. A group of excited merchants were already poring over tall stacks of boxes, with a few Parsi guards taking position around the loot. The Chinese workmen unloading it looked just as reluctant as their nation.
England smiled broadly. "Excellent. Second: ports."
"I have instructed the five to work with you," China replied sullenly. "They will be polite and accommodating to anything you and your kind need."
The veiled insult was not lost upon England, who felt his cheeks heat up. You and your kind. This man was absolutely incorrigible; could he not understand just where his own position was in this negotiation? Yes, it was his own land, but it had been already proven that there was no chance of going up against him. The time had come for Europe to truly flourish around the rest of the world, and China was going to learn that lesson very, very soon.
"Third, the co-hong system. I have decided that this new colony shall be dedicated to the concept of free trade for all Europeans-" England felt a tiny sting of pleasure at the flash of anger that dashed across China's face. "- so I shan't bother asking you about that. I merely expect that you can do your part correctly and the next time I am in Guangzhou, there will be no complications."
China now looked positively murderous, but England chose to ignore this.
"And for the final component…"Both of them turned to stare at the room's third party who, being ignored, had been inching towards the exit. China grabbed his arm and dragged him forwards, eliciting a whine from the boy.
"Here he is. Deal with him however you wish," China stiffly announced over the high pitched protests. England stared as Hong Kong dug his heels into the carpet. It was no use. There was no way that the child could continue resisting - surely he had been watching this new city grow from whatever depths of the mountains he'd been hiding in.
England squatted down to the child's eye level. "So, you're the cheeky little bugger who's been avoiding us all this time. Just where have you been?"
China 's expression remained dark and impassive as Hong Kong tried to twist out of his grip. "He was staying with the fishermen at Chek Chue. Stanley, to you."3
"Stanley?" England frowned. "But my men were there for weeks before moving here to Victoria.4We didn't see a hair of him."
A thin smile appeared on China's face. "Of course. It's his land. If he didn't want to be seen, the task would be more than easy."
There was that mocking tone once again. It was England's turn to glare. "Alright. We're finished here, so please get off my island."
The smile vanished automatically, and China stalked towards the door. Hong Kong lunged forwards and grabbed a fistful of pants leg.
"No!"
For the first time, England felt a tinge of embarrassment and discomfort at the current situation. He watched awkwardly as China silently detached the small fingers tightly attached to his clothing. The Asian man hoisted the child off its feet by gripping him beneath the armpits.
"I'm sorry. You're staying here. There's nothing I can do."
China walked swiftly across the room. Before England could register what was happening, China had thrust Hong Kong into his arms.
"There." China's expression flickered into one of disappointment - and perhaps even guilt - but only briefly. He was soon his blunt, no-nonsense self again. "But remember, England. You are still trespassing on Chinese territory. My men will see everything you do from the mainland side."
England snorted, and was about to make a witty retort when China finally turned on his heel and strode away. He was left with a pouty Chinese child hanging listlessly from his hands.
After standing like that silently for a few seconds, England cleared his throat.
"Well, then. We have a lot to do here, Ho-"
He finished his sentence with a yelp as Hong Kong viciously lashed out with his legs, swinging them hard into his ribs. As England doubled over in pain, the boy kicked him hard again, this time on the shin, and dashed out into the new, busy streets.
Hong Kong bolted out the door, leaving the British man sputtering and swearing behind him. Hopping over the threshold, he bolted down the streets, weaving between people and narrowly missing vehicles trucking by. Ducking beneath two workmen hauling a load of timber - and dodging their cries of disbelief - he raced down the hill, panting with each step.
That stupid man thought he couldn't understand him. His island? It wasn't his island! That gweilo's island was far away to the west, where probably everyone had such big ugly eyebrows and wore tight, ridiculous clothes.5
He finally wriggled past sailors descending their ship to a place devoid of foreigners and half-finished structures. Jumping from rock to rock, he made it to the water's edge and flopped down, feeling the spray of waves breaking leaping up to his face.
There were boats, so many boats now up here on the north side. Not the big, wonderful ships that his brother led back when he'd been an explorer, or the sleek cutters of those cunning pirates. There were a few junks belonging to his people, but they bobbed up and down at a safe distance, careful not to attract the attentions of these new strange vessels sitting in the "fragrant harbour."6
He could see a stone fort just across the water. China was probably there right now, talking to his generals and not caring a whit about him. Apparently staying at the top of the power ladder was more important than one's relative…especially if that relative was just a miniscule island far, far away from Beijing. Hong Kong's stomach, though pressed against the stone beneath him, churned with anger.
Even the pirates were better than this, he thought. All they did was take supplies. And build temples.
Hong Kong lay on his rock, trying to shut out the faint noises of construction. Just as he was beginning to relax, the sounds of footsteps and strange voices approached.
"Here it is, chaps. Lot 84. I don't think anyone else has branched out this far yet, but don't worry. I'm positive that as the city expands, this spot will be a prime location. That map - give it here, will you? I'd like to see if perhaps we can build out a few docks for loading. Elliot wouldn't mind it too much. What do you think?" 7
Hong Kong pulled himself up to his feet and looked back up inland. Sure enough, more pale skinned men with pale hair and pale eyes were walking towards him, unaware of their tiny observer.
He was never going to escape these infuriating gweilos. Hong Kong vaulted over the rocks, providing a nice shock for the businessmen surveying their new land. Ignoring their shouts of amazement, he took off along the coast, hoping to find refuge in the beaches of the south.
With his shin still smarting from the kick, England angrily strode upstairs, only limping slightly. That would bruise later. It wasn't as if he'd wished to separate him from his brother - England had suggested Zhoushan, but that Pottinger had the nerve to cross out the treaty's words and write in his own agenda!8
But, he reflected, the Baronet had been a great asset in the war. And the colony was now flourishing under his hand.
"Heeeey!"
England glanced up to see a young man stretched across his writing chair. The blond, blue-eyed youth had flung the tall windowpanes wide open, so that all the hustle and bustle of the street below could be seen and heard clearly.
"Get the goods?"
"Yes." England set himself down in an armchair and examined his leg. Sure enough, the skin was beginning to purple.
"Yeah, saw 'em loading it in."
"Then what was the point in asking?"
America didn't seem to hear his retort, still leaning towards the window. His eyes shined - or maybe it was the sunlight on his glasses - at the sight of the hefty load.
"That's a lot of silver. Don't think you would mind sharing?"
"I would mind very much indeed." England stood up quickly. He winced, feeling a twinge go up his left leg.
America finally turned towards him and noticed the injury. "How'd you get that?"
"Hong Kong." England's expression soured. "I can't believe I have to take care of that little brat. Such impertinence…"
"You can't expect someone who's just been invaded to throw you a party for it," deadpanned his friend. "All this Imperialism idiocy, it's getting to your head. You don't see me running around claiming random islands for the United States."
England crossed over to a peg on the wall, grabbing his coat and hat. "Then what, pray tell, are you doing here in China? Don't lie to yourself, git. You were a part of this entire debacle and were on our side, may I remind you."
The younger nation grinned. "Well, yeah! We all like the tea! I'm just being a good businessman, like everyone else here. Germany, Netherlands, Portugal, France, it's like the country club of export connoisseurs. Get it? Country club?"
England snorted. "Ingenious. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a colony to take care of."
America scooted the chair back towards the desk. "Don't lose your panties over this, bro. Everything's going to work out. This will be the new jewel in the crown, I promise you."
Rolling his eyes, England left the room, pulling his arms through the sleeves of his coat in the process. America wiggled his fingers and gave his attention to the typewriter in front of him.
"We believe that Hong Kong is destined," he typed, "by the uncontrollable force of circumstances, to become the base of naval and military operations. Which sooner or later must revolutionize, or subvert, the existing state of things in China."9
He paused and looked out the window again, past the new factories, businesses, and warehouses rising up to the glittering harbour beyond. Ships of all nationalities and models dotted the blue water, too many to count within a single glance.
"This place is gonna be big," he said to himself.
May 1930
Hong Kong, slouched at his desk, smushed his brush against the ink block. Lifting it up, he regarded how the hairs now jutted out crookedly. His paper was dotted with little black spots with a single shake. Now that would earn a scolding from his teacher.
It would earn him a scolding from England too. England scolded him a lot, lately, but Hong Kong knew he had reason to. After all, taking care of a kid who constantly protests about anything and everything you tell him was a right pain in the arse.
Though first, he'd mostly felt shock. Shock at the sudden rise of all those buildings - very austere, formidable ones that gleamed white and marble amongst his green mountains. Shock at the day he woke up and felt taller, just to be informed that China had also given England jurisdiction over Kowloon. Hong Kong had instantly crossed the harbour. The farmers had welcomed him happily, but nobody allowed him inside the walled city. Apparently that was the only spot that China could still claim for his own, but England had firmly declared that Hong Kong was now British.10 Another surprise growth spurt occurred again later, when the territory behind the Kowloon side mountains were given to him.
By that point, Hong Kong had transitioned into protesting. The first time had actually brought him somewhere - England's office, where there were very irritated green eyes beneath the thick eyebrows.
"Just what do you think you're going to get out of this?" Hong Kong merely stared at the tapping of gloved fingers on wood. "I created this city to grant free trade for all Europeans. And as much as I hate to admit it myself, that includes France. As an honourable gentleman, I will not stray from my word. You will tell the men at the wharf to continue serving the French ships. Are we understood?"
Hong Kong bit back a grimace. It was a better idea to look as blank as possible in this situation, especially when what you really wanted to do was stand on your chair, point at that smirking Frenchman in the corner and shout: But what about the Chinese people? We can't ignore what he's been doing to the mainlanders! If we don't want to help him, then we just won't!
But he'd kept his mouth shut, and then the Frenchie had given him a flower. Said he'd discovered it on the south side of the island. Hong Kong would have crushed it to a pulp if it wasn't actually quite pretty with its purplish-pink petals.11
Forty years later, when the May 30th incident happened in Shanghai, England had grown accustomed to his antics. Hong Kong actually got away with 16 months of protesting before realizing that it wasn't actually helping his local situations.
He sighed and turned over to a new page in his workbook. Carefully wiping his brush as to smooth out the hairs, Hong Kong began to write labouriously.
Announcement: Opening of food centre/camp in Yau Ma Tei. Accommodation: 500 mainland refugees. Needed: volunteers to organize.
There was no way England could argue against this one. It helped people and he was practicing his English.
He had to give the Brit credit in a few areas: whenever it was a case of merely supporting any cause in China, England would always let him do it. A lot of the people had very strong opinions - and England had no qualms about spreading controversial newspapers. As long as there was peace within the colony, he had explained, talking about how China should be governed was a safe subject. Then, when mainlanders began to migrate over, Hong Kong was sure that it would bother England. Yet all of the people flooding into the city were welcomed and Hong Kong was allowed to do as much as he could to help them - and did they ever need it. Sometimes, the news was almost enough to make Hong Kong feel better about being under British rule. Almost.
When he wasn't watching his brother's country fall apart, Hong Kong's own business kept him busy enough.12 The acquisition of more land and constant influx of immigration was already a handful, but his growth as a colony had attracted a lot of other nations. Just as America had predicted, men from all over the world had flocked to the newest trading port where foreigners no longer had to deal with crotchety Chinese middlemen. During those early years, Hong Kong sometimes snuck out to sit outside Western teahouses and listen to all the strange accents.
Meanwhile, there were reforms and upgrades of every sort introduced into his system. From transportation to technology and even education, foreigners had permeated practically every walk of life on his streets. Not to say that he no longer felt Chinese - some of the highest levels of businessmen were Asian, and whenever he wanted to escape England's horrible scones, it was easy to dash down to a teahouse and buy almond cookies or milk buns.
He snickered to himself when he remembered the complaints of one of England's human lackeys, back when he was just an island:
"There does not appear the slightest probability that, under any circumstances, Hong Kong will ever become a place of trade. It is worse than folly to persist in a course begun in error, and which, if continued, must eventually end in disappointment and in national loss and degradation."13
Too bad the guy had died in 1868. If only he saw Hong Kong now - managing almost a third of his older brother's global trade and as international as you could possibly get!
Now that Hong Kong had truly thought about it…he was secretly content with being a colony. It had taught him a lot, having to live with England notwithstanding. Anyway, the man only fussed and fretted because he wanted the best for him. He was hiscolony.
Hong Kong blinked, feeling shocked that he'd even comprehended such a sentimental notion. Not even realizing that his brush had slipped and left a long black stroke down his forearm.
"Haiiii," he groaned, resting his forehead onto the desktop.
America, the current visitor of the week, happened to be strolling past his room as Hong Kong shut his eyes. Peering at the younger boy, he smiled at how much Hong Kong had grown since they'd first met, nearly a century before. America had spent most of the day exploring, and was amazed at the hybrid culture that had sprung up here.
There was nothing quite like it anywhere else. Downtown in Central, the streets clattered with the noise of trams, automobiles, rickshaws and people rushing back and forth. All the banks, offices and government buildings were these austere giants that dominated the skyline from afar, America saw all the details up close. And he thought it was incredible. Practically all the signs were in Chinese, advertising tailors and restaurants and pawnshops with their little bat-coin signs. When he walked along the docks, he couldn't help but stop to watch a group of labourers pulling a cart filled with exports past the massive European ships waiting to be loaded - and the swift little junks with their ribbed sails pulled down. Everywhere he went, there was a drive and determination that rivalled even his own country.
Not that he'd been too overwhelmed by the city's charm. America also noticed the things that could have remained hidden. Like how the British gentleman getting off his rickshaw didn't bother directly paying the man who had pulled him around all afternoon, but threw the coins on the pavement instead. How Chinese and even Eurasians weren't allowed to live on Victoria Peak, or to join the fancy Hong Kong Club. It was strange and intriguing how these two groups, the British and the Chinese, seemed to work together and separately at the same time.
He looked at the boy who had dozed off on top of his schoolwork. It seemed that this was the same case for the nations as well.
America quietly shut the door and returned to his own quarters. Slipping a new sheaf of paper into his typewriter, he started to tap out another article.
"Though there is an unmistakable air of East meets West within this 'window on China,' it is evident from the most perfunctory glance around the streets that the British do run Hong Kong: autocratically, efficiently, firmly, sometimes unimaginatively, never with any pretence of popular rule, but always with strict justice...if only they were a little more loving."14
March 1941
England stepped into his office and closed the door. Once alone, he pulled off his hat and tossed it into a corner, not caring when it completely missed the chair and hit the floor. He dropped into the tall, stiff chair at his desk, sighing and rubbing his forehead.
It was his first day back in Asia after lots of travel. And before that, lots of arguing. Not that it was an uncommon event at Parliament, but being embroiled in another war of such global importance had a tendency to generate a much different kind of tension.
"We cannot afford to participate in fighting in two theatres," declared a man, a thumb hooked under his suit jacket.
Quite a few others nodded gravely in agreement. One stood up. "It's far too much trouble battling two fronts, and that's already within a single continent! Defending this city alone is a nightmare. Declaring war on Japan will be disastrous for the colonies. We are spread much too thinly here."
"Nonsense. This is the British Empire you're talking about. On which the sun never sets! Japan wouldn't dare challenge our authority."
The first speaker scoffed. "No, that's the real nonsense! Look," He suddenly wheeled around and fixed a stare on England himself. "You can't possibly be in two places at once, can you?"
"And it's not a matter of declaring war on Japan, it's the inevitable pass that they shall declare war on us," hissed the thin fellow seated on the other side of the room. "Their aim is to take all of China, and for all intents and purposes to them, that includes the island of Hong Kong."
England looked to the man on his left. Sir Geoffry Northcote, the current governor of said colony, was frowning. Taking out a large handkerchief, he coughed violently into the cloth before speaking.
"Upon the official declaration of war between China and Japan, I had instantly announced Hong Kong as a neutral zone. However, precautions have been made. All European residents are liable for conscription and many British citizens have already evacuated to Australia."
"That's not the point," said the thin man angrily. "I'm saying that we will eventually be forced to confront the situation in Asia whether we can afford it or not, and the Empire will fall."
England's eyes narrowed. Everyone else had been rendered speechless.
"No, it won't," declared a new voice.
The room turned to see Prime Minister Winston Churchill enter with his hat in hand. He already had a determined, calculated expression etched into his face, and was already addressing the council before even taking a seat.
"The ultimate issue of the Pacific front is not whether the Japanese shall take Hong Kong or not, but when and how. The decision is delicate because we must not support our Chinese allies as much as possible. If Hong Kong is given up easily, we lose our credibility and honour." He eyed England carefully. "Once the war is over, China may lay claim to him once more."
A murmur rippled across the men and England frowned. Hong Kong was not one of the important colonies, particularly in comparison to India or Australia. Yet he was their main, most important connection to China. That was his purpose, anyway.
"However, it is also true that such a small territory with limited resources cannot hold out against an invasion. There is no doubt in my mind that Hong Kong cannot be defended."
A louder torrent of chatter burst from the men and England was torn. There were loyal British citizens on that island readying for a fight. Not to mention one occasionally irritating, but very innocent nation-child.
Churchill stood up and spoke slowly and clearly. "My decision is this: I will not reduce the local garrison. China would be aware of such an action in an instant and we must show our loyalties. The goal will be to assign Hong Kong as an outpost, an area to be fortified and defended as much as possible before the inevitable fall. I expect all men to perform nobly and bravely. Every day that is used to prevent the advance for the enemy is a victory for the Allied Forces."
He sat back down, and the room erupted into conversation. As everybody else dissolved into small clumps of heated discussion, England hastily got up and picked his way over to the Prime Minister.
"Excuse me, sir-"
Churchill fixed him with a steely gaze. "The local garrison is probably not enough, that's true. Perhaps a support battalion from elsewhere in the Commonwealth can be of service."
England blinked, finding himself nodding. "Yes, sir."
"You should supervise that yourself. Personally would be best. In fact, why don't you escort Northcote back to his post. His illness has cleared up quite a bit, so he's in much better condition to travel."
It was not a suggestion, it was an order. England understood.
He had spent most of his time on his way to Asia planning and feeling uneasy. Upon his arrival, all the officials and merchants who greeted him at the docks seemed to be, amazingly, neither affected nor worried about the war raging above them. England had endured three hours of the idle chatter and ridiculous pomp until he finally escaped to his residence - where he had bestowed a perfunctory pat on his little colony's head before fleeing once more to his office. Though the airheaded British elite were not concerned about the war, Hong Kong seemed fully aware of the issue at hand. England had felt his eyes upon his back all the way to the point of closing the door. But of course he was; the boy had been following the news in China extremely carefully. Hong Kong was an immediate danger on the Pacific front due to his close proximity to where all the action was happening. Japan was swiftly moving south towards Guangdong province, so it would be no surprise when he'd begin drawing plans for direct war against the Allies.
With that in mind, England reached for the telephone on his desk and dialled. When the line picked up, the words he uttered were calm, confident and without any sign of uncertainty.
"Calling Ottawa, please."
November 1941
Canada wiped the sweat off his brow, breathing heavily. The combination of Hong Kong's hot, humid weather and mountainous terrain made surveillance missions quite challenging, but he was determined to stick it out. It was his first real foray into the war, and Canada intended to stay dedicated to the cause as much as possible.15
In front of him, his guide and fellow nation was stepping nimbly up the rocks seemingly without effort.
Hong Kong turned around at the top. "And there's Wong Nai Chung. The reservoir is that way."
Canada, Major General Christopher Maltby, Brigadier John Lawson and the rest of their small group of soldiers caught up to him after a few minutes. Shedding his pack, Canada gazed around him in awe.
"Wow," he murmured. "This is amazing."
The men's eyes followed Hong Kong's arm down the slope to the valley below, where the entire hillside was a bumpy carpet of dark green. There was a winding road at one side, serving as the main link between the north and south sides of the island. At this level, one could make out a glittering sea beyond the mountains.
Maltby stepped forward, unfurling a map in his hands.
"Right, let's get to work. There may not be much time. This is the plan for the defence of Hong Kong."
Men crowded around at these words. Canada leaned in, but not before noticing that Hong Kong was the only person standing apart from the circle, having opted to climb on top of a boulder and watch the cars putter past on the road below.
"Though we are certain that Japan will come in from mainland China, we cannot rule out a possible naval invasion. That's why I want you Canadians here on the island side. We'll have troops in the south to monitor on the seas."
Everybody nodded to convey understanding. Maltby pointed at a red dotted line on the map. "Here is where we've been working to create the main opposition to any Japanese invasion from the north. The Lion Rock mountain range is already a natural barrier, so what we've done is fortified it. Along this trail, the Gin Drinker's Line, there is a series of pillboxes and lookouts that can support up to six battalions of men.16 There is a formidable redoubt at Shing Mun that functions as headquarters. The Royal Scots, Punjabs and the Rajputs shall be posted there with Brigadier Cedric Wallis as their leader."
From his vantage point on the rock, Hong Kong frowned at the soldier's hunched over backs. That made only three battalions.
"Though there isn't much we can do for the New Territories, this is the best we have. We're predicting that it will hold off the Japanese for at least three weeks, probably more." Maltby rubbed his chin. "Think of it as the Maginot Line of the east."17
This time, it was Canada's turn to frown. It was clear how well the Maginot Line had performed before, which was not a reassuring thought.
"Here, of course, is where we are now," Maltby continued. "Which is where I leave you. The Wong Nai Chung gap is immensely important to this island as it connects the two communities at Central and Stanley. We've been fortifying it for the past few years, actually. Perhaps you'd like to take an HQ here, Brigadier."
The senior officer was already scanning the landscape carefully. As Maltby approached him to discuss pillbox locations, he called out to the Canadian soldiers.
"Better start getting a feel of this place."
Canada nodded, and knelt to open his pack. Before he could reach in to take out his field glasses, he felt a tug on his sleeve.
"Do you like seafood? We can go to Sai Kung later and have it fresh," Hong Kong told him.
The older nation flashed him an apologetic smile.
"I'd love to, but I can't leave my soldiers here. Can I take a rain check?" He reached over and squeezed the preteen's shoulder. "I need to make sure you're in good hands."
"I think I'm okay…"
Canada wasn't quite sure if he believed him entirely. "Don't worry. I'm going to fight for you."
Hong Kong shot him a look that he didn't quite comprehend. Maltby finished his hushed conversation with Lawson and walked towards them.
"We should head back to headquarters," he told Hong Kong. The General saluted Canada, who returned the gesture. "Thank you for all your support."
"It's my duty and honour," he replied. Then he watched until both disappeared down the mountain before turning back to work. To be completely honest, Canada had the smallest of misgivings in his heart. Japan had been working hard at taking China bit by bit for practically a decade. The troops his boss had sent to Hong Kong had never seen an actual battle before. They were eager and loyal, just as he was, but Canada was terrified of what was in store for them.18
December 1941
Hong Kong had been in church when it finally happened. After the harried-looking officials had hurried Governor Mark Young out of St. John's Cathedral, he'd slipped out of his own seat in the second row - not caring about the scandalized looks on the pastor's face - and followed him outside.
As they hurried down the hillside, news attacked them from all angles. The Japanese, having shocked the world with their attack on Hawaii earlier than morning, had just dropped bombs onto Kai Tak Airport in Kowloon.
"They managed to get every single Royal Air Force aircraft as well as the fighters reserved for the HK Volunteer Defence Corps. Japan has complete control of the skies."
"And our remaining naval destroyers left for Singapore mere days ago…so they also have complete control of the seas."
Hong Kong barely had to listen. He could see the smoke rising lazily from across the harbour into the bright blue sky.
Thirty minutes later, as they were sitting in Victoria Barracks with frantic military officers rushing about all around them, the news broke in that Japanese troops had crossed the Shenzhen River into the New Territories.
The Battle for Hong Kong had officially begun.
There was little to do but wait. Hong Kong spent the rest of the day huddled on his chair in HQ, trying to ignore his churning stomach as he knew - he felt - the residents of the New Territories fleeing towards Kowloon. They were just giving up the largest portion of Hong Kong territory to Japan, who was surely, definitely, determinedly coming for him.
It seemed that the entire colony was depending on the Gin Drinker's Line. Hong Kong woke up at midnight in a cold sweat, realizing that Japan had started to attack it. The next few days were a nightmare as the poorly manned defence raged against the hardened Japanese troops. Even with Maltby's promise of a three week holdout, Hong Kong went outside two days later to see the Tsim Sha Tsui railway terminus clock tower smoking. Kowloon now belonged to Japan.
On the 18th, Japan led his men across the harbour and landed on the north-eastern shores of the island. Hong Kong felt trapped within the confines of Victoria Barracks. The Commonwealth soldiers were fighting tooth and nail against their far more experienced enemy, and the Chinese civilians could do little but take cover. Canada was out there, defending a small colony that he barely knew just for the sake of the British Empire. Brigadier Wallis, having retreated to the island after the Gin Drinker's Line fell, was stuck in Stanley whilst Brigadier Lawson led the Canadians in a fierce battle at Wong Nai Chung that resulted in the loss of his own life.
It looked like Hong Kong would make history in this war, as the first of British territory to be taken by an enemy force.
Sir Young surrendered on Christmas day. He had refused twice before, but there was no hope now. Hong Kong watched Japanese soldiers jeering at the young governor as he boarded the ship that would take him to a Japanese prisoner camp. He had only been in office for four months.
Lieutenant General Takashi Sakai was Hong Kong's new boss now, and his first Japanese one. The man was stern, often glaring at him suspiciously from behind his perfectly circular glasses. This was exactly what he was doing when Japan arrived in person.
To his surprise, Japan was not as frightening and harsh as Hong Kong imagined him to be. The nation was much shorter than most of his soldiers, and spoke in a calm, gentle manner.
"Hong Kong," he said kindly, leaning over to look at him at eye level. "We are brothers, you and I. Please don't take this the wrong way. This was not an invasion, but a rescue from the clutches of the Europeans. All I wish for is an Asia that is governed and populated by Asians. A unified continent where we can all prosper as a family."
Japan waited, but Hong Kong made no response.
The Japanese generals stirred slightly, and for the first time since the meeting began, Japan frowned down at him. "It's clear that being under England's thumb for so long has brainwashed you, but not to worry. We will remove these foreign cultural habits from your system. I will make you understand."
In spite of his size, Japan still managed to be very intimidating. Hong Kong stared after him as the nation strode away.
Now it was just him, General Sakai, and what seemed to be an endless wave of Japanese soldiers. The red and white paper flag in his fist did not flap in the breeze. It was Christmas, and there were people dying all over the land. It was Christmas, and he was a prisoner.
June 1943
It was early on a muggy, damp morning when Hong Kong carefully slipped out of bed, down the hall, past the dozing guards and out of his assigned residence. Luckily for him, most of the Japanese soldiers were relaxed and sleepy, and his skinny frame made it easier to sneak away. Any Chinese who had managed to survive up to this point were only seen alone, stalking the streets like ghosts - if they dared walk around in public, that is. And that's exactly how Hong Kong felt like himself.
He stumbled across deserted roads and past tall buildings that stared vacantly down at him, their worn signs flapping in the wind. After walking for what felt to be hours, Hong Kong finally found himself a good distance away from Central and collapsed warily onto his rock.
Any other time, this would be soothing. Waves from the harbour lapped upwards without a care to the people starving and hurting on either side of it.
When Japan had declared Hong Kong as his territory, Canada had been told to leave, as he did not belong in the "Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere."19 Hong Kong dreamed of his only friend now fending off attackers in some distant battlefield in Europe. It was difficult for him to imagine the war continuing throughout the rest of the world. Here, it looked like the ends of the Earth.
Before the war, people were endlessly pouring in from China. What used to be a city of 1.5 million strong had dwindled down to almost a third of that original number. Hong Kong lay on his rock and thought of the Allied civilians in Stanley camp. As much as he knew they were suffering, at least they were safe behind prison walls. The civilian Chinese had no protection at all. The Japanese police force, the Kempeitai, used his people for sport. They took anything they wished, whether it was your home, your belongings, or your lives.
Japan had promised that he was going to take care of him. If so, this was a very strange way of showing it.
As a nation-being, Hong Kong could not take the option to flee or die. There were officials observing him at any given time of the day (except for now, clearly) and he was forced to be subject to any of their whims. Japanese language and etiquette was now a mandatory course at schools. It slightly helped that written Japanese was similar to Chinese characters, but heaven forbid if Hong Kong mispronounced a word.
A hot breeze floated by his face, causing limp tendrils of hair to wave helplessly around his thin face. His stomach gurgled against the stone. He was really hungry. So hungry. Nobody had enough food. People were allowed exactly 242 grams of rice per day. Some went after the rats, as meat was virtually unheard of now. Even the racehorses collapsed with fatigue as their jockeys forced them around the tracks.
What Hong Kong would give for one of England's nigh-poisonous meals. As he lay there, motionless and face downwards, the memory of his former caretaker floated into his mind.
If England appeared right this moment and automatically began to lecture him on getting his clothes dirty, he'd be happy as a clam.
September 1945
As he walked towards Government House,20 Hong Kong felt the sun warming the back of his neck. It was as if the weather was aware of today's events, acting surprisingly peaceful and balmy even though it was a rainy season.
Just a month before, the colony had been utter chaos. The Japanese had stopped even pretending to care about the state of things in Hong Kong. When all stores of rice were depleted in 1944, Governor Rensuke Isogai simply stopped rationing and left the entire city scrambling for a way to keep themselves from starving. People would eat anything from peanut bran to tree roots…and that was if they could get past the Kempeitai.
How Hong Kong had managed to keep on going for the past three years and eight months was beyond him. After Japan and Canada had left, he hadn't had anybody to come speak to him - the Japanese officials occasionally ordering him around hardly counted. But nobody stopped him from listening in to the news of the rest of the war, so Hong Kong knew when help was coming. In truth, Japan had began to lag behind in the war effort as early as 1942, with America hard on his heels.
The atomic bombs still came with a shock, but afterwards Hong Kong had gone outside to watch the skies for America. He knew that if anyone would come, it would be he.
Hong Kong was rewarded for his perseverance less than two weeks later when Japan surrendered unconditionally to the Allies. Planes from the USS Lexington came soaring over the colony, dropping much needed supplies. Though they were far too high to be sure, Hong Kong was positive one of the pilots had to be America.
Today, he walked through the gates and into the building that served as the residence of the highest ranking official of his city. Passing through the hallways, he noticed that his British coat of arms had been mounted on the wall again.
"On the behalf of the Emperor of Japan and the Japanese Imperial Headquarters…"
Hong Kong slipped into a large assembly hall used for meetings. The tension in the air was one of eagerness, even an edge of impatience. All of the officials present, Japanese and colonial British alike, were desperate to return to their homes in order to begin fixing all that had been broken and hurt in the past few years.
"We do hereby unconditionally surrender ourselves and all forces under our control to Rear-Admiral Cecil Halliday Jephson Harcourt, CB, CBE, and undertake to carry out all such instructions as may be given by him or under his authority and to issue all necessary orders for the purpose of giving effect to all his instructions."21
The Japanese man reading this instrument of surrender quieted as the British burst into a round of applause. On the long table was a ceremonial sword. Major-General Umekichi Okada slowly picked it up with both hands. With his palms facing upwards, he proffered it across the table towards Harcourt, who accepted it with grace and dignity. And that was it - Hong Kong was now officially back in British control.
As all the men began to clap again, Hong Kong suddenly recognized one of them seated a short distance away from Harcourt. England looked more gaunt, tired and tougher than Hong Kong had ever seen him before. His stomach flipped. News of the European front had been largely ignored, as most people were only concerned with the immediate situations. Hong Kong realized that his cranky teacher had probably gone through just as much stress and tension, having to commandeer a global war effort as well as taking care of a crumbling empire.
"Ahh…Hong Kong!"
Before he knew it, England was looking down at him. Hong Kong could not say a word.
"Dear God..."
Hong Kong found himself being easily lifted off his feet. England wrapped one arm around his legs as support while he continued talking.
"What the hell did they do to you? The bastards…Come on, let's get you something to eat."
Dazed, Hong Kong only noticed that they'd left the assembly hall when he saw the lion and dragon from his coat of arms bobbing next to his head. Or to be correct, he was bobbing up and down past them.
"I recall you rather liked those little bread things, those pork buns. I'm not sure if we can find any right now in this mess of a city, but we can try."
England had never actually carried Hong Kong before, unless you counted that one instance when they first met. Even if he had, Hong Kong now resembled a boy in his early teens, so it still looked very odd to see him being hoisted around in another man's arms.
"There are people performing dragon dances in the street. I don't suppose you'd like to go, but honestly, I'd prefer not getting lost in the crowds. If you feel up to it, we can watch the fireworks later…"
Hong Kong sighed and rested his head onto the Brit's shoulder, unconsciously curling one arm around his neck. England rubbed him gently on the back as they walked away from the commotion of the city.
Part 2.
Recipient: fivedayslater
Characters: Hong Kong, England, China, America, Canada, Japan
Rating: K+
Summary: The story of Hong Kong's growth as a city and a person
Notes: Really long!
An Island With An Expiry Date
Prompt: Something with England and Hong Kong, where Hong Kong absolutely refuses to like him, but over the years England wears him down. If you can include the Japanese Occupation during WWII that would be awesome too.
A/N: I have to admit that this was the PERFECT prompt. I've been planning to write a very long-winded, detailed, multi-chapter about this very subject (Hong Kong history) for a really long time, and this was the perfect opportunity to test it out with a shorter prototype. I've never written a pure history fic before, so I hope you like it ^-^
July 1843
It was hot. Unbearably hot. England mopped his brow with a handkerchief for the umpteenth time. Summer in this wretched location was comparable to a slow, painful death. The high ceilings and open windows of the building weren't enough to prevent the air from settling around his shoulders like an invisible fog.
Out the window, he could see men bustling around, getting this colony on its feet. It had been nearly two years since claiming the island for the Empire. To him, it was as if the city had sprung from the ground in a flash, with people from all over the globe pouring in to feast upon China's riches. England watched as two lean, tanned Chinese men walked past briskly, toting the bamboo bars of a sedan chair upon their shoulders. The wealthy Dutchman seated on top fanned himself with a glove.
His fingers drummed impatiently on the table top, and he felt his gaze shift to the creamy piece of paper a few centimetres away.
TREATY OF NANKING, it read.1
In accordance to the events that occurred at Tinghai and Guangzhou in 1840-1841, the Qing kingdom will grant to the United Kingdom of Great Britain:
- An indemnity of twenty-one million taels of silver for the damage to goods and citizens of British company.
- The opening of five ports in China: Guangzhou, Xiamen, Fuzhou, Ningbo and Shanghai - for the purpose of international trade for any and all foreign tradesmen.
- The abolition of the unfair co-hong system to allow free European trade in China.2
- The cession of the island of Hong Kong, creating a crown colony under Her Royal Highness the Queen in perpetuity, to provide British citizens a safe harbour and refuge in the East.
Signed, August 29 1842.
And ratified June 1843, thought England. By both rulers of either kingdom. China could no longer delay his payment…which is exactly what he was waiting for now.
The sound of footsteps finally came to his ears, so England quickly dropped the treaty and sat up straighter. Not a second too soon, the doors flew open.
For a defeated nation, China did not look pitiful at all. A better term would be embarrassed. Humiliated, even. Certainly irritated and resentful. Glaring straight at England, the country stomped into the room, a small child in tow.
England hid a smirk. So much for dignity and maturity. But none of this was a surprise - after all, the old man's belief that he was still the world's top power was severely mistaken, and thus had become his downfall.
"Took you long enough," he said, rising gracefully from his chair. "I was beginning to think that I would have to come over there and fetch it all myself."
China scowled at him. "No respect as always, England. Let us get straight to the matter at hand. Idle chatter will not improve anything at this hour."
He was right, of course. England nodded. "The silver. Have you brought it?"
China pointed mutely out the window. A group of excited merchants were already poring over tall stacks of boxes, with a few Parsi guards taking position around the loot. The Chinese workmen unloading it looked just as reluctant as their nation.
England smiled broadly. "Excellent. Second: ports."
"I have instructed the five to work with you," China replied sullenly. "They will be polite and accommodating to anything you and your kind need."
The veiled insult was not lost upon England, who felt his cheeks heat up. You and your kind. This man was absolutely incorrigible; could he not understand just where his own position was in this negotiation? Yes, it was his own land, but it had been already proven that there was no chance of going up against him. The time had come for Europe to truly flourish around the rest of the world, and China was going to learn that lesson very, very soon.
"Third, the co-hong system. I have decided that this new colony shall be dedicated to the concept of free trade for all Europeans-" England felt a tiny sting of pleasure at the flash of anger that dashed across China's face. "- so I shan't bother asking you about that. I merely expect that you can do your part correctly and the next time I am in Guangzhou, there will be no complications."
China now looked positively murderous, but England chose to ignore this.
"And for the final component…"Both of them turned to stare at the room's third party who, being ignored, had been inching towards the exit. China grabbed his arm and dragged him forwards, eliciting a whine from the boy.
"Here he is. Deal with him however you wish," China stiffly announced over the high pitched protests. England stared as Hong Kong dug his heels into the carpet. It was no use. There was no way that the child could continue resisting - surely he had been watching this new city grow from whatever depths of the mountains he'd been hiding in.
England squatted down to the child's eye level. "So, you're the cheeky little bugger who's been avoiding us all this time. Just where have you been?"
China 's expression remained dark and impassive as Hong Kong tried to twist out of his grip. "He was staying with the fishermen at Chek Chue. Stanley, to you."3
"Stanley?" England frowned. "But my men were there for weeks before moving here to Victoria.4We didn't see a hair of him."
A thin smile appeared on China's face. "Of course. It's his land. If he didn't want to be seen, the task would be more than easy."
There was that mocking tone once again. It was England's turn to glare. "Alright. We're finished here, so please get off my island."
The smile vanished automatically, and China stalked towards the door. Hong Kong lunged forwards and grabbed a fistful of pants leg.
"No!"
For the first time, England felt a tinge of embarrassment and discomfort at the current situation. He watched awkwardly as China silently detached the small fingers tightly attached to his clothing. The Asian man hoisted the child off its feet by gripping him beneath the armpits.
"I'm sorry. You're staying here. There's nothing I can do."
China walked swiftly across the room. Before England could register what was happening, China had thrust Hong Kong into his arms.
"There." China's expression flickered into one of disappointment - and perhaps even guilt - but only briefly. He was soon his blunt, no-nonsense self again. "But remember, England. You are still trespassing on Chinese territory. My men will see everything you do from the mainland side."
England snorted, and was about to make a witty retort when China finally turned on his heel and strode away. He was left with a pouty Chinese child hanging listlessly from his hands.
After standing like that silently for a few seconds, England cleared his throat.
"Well, then. We have a lot to do here, Ho-"
He finished his sentence with a yelp as Hong Kong viciously lashed out with his legs, swinging them hard into his ribs. As England doubled over in pain, the boy kicked him hard again, this time on the shin, and dashed out into the new, busy streets.
Hong Kong bolted out the door, leaving the British man sputtering and swearing behind him. Hopping over the threshold, he bolted down the streets, weaving between people and narrowly missing vehicles trucking by. Ducking beneath two workmen hauling a load of timber - and dodging their cries of disbelief - he raced down the hill, panting with each step.
That stupid man thought he couldn't understand him. His island? It wasn't his island! That gweilo's island was far away to the west, where probably everyone had such big ugly eyebrows and wore tight, ridiculous clothes.5
He finally wriggled past sailors descending their ship to a place devoid of foreigners and half-finished structures. Jumping from rock to rock, he made it to the water's edge and flopped down, feeling the spray of waves breaking leaping up to his face.
There were boats, so many boats now up here on the north side. Not the big, wonderful ships that his brother led back when he'd been an explorer, or the sleek cutters of those cunning pirates. There were a few junks belonging to his people, but they bobbed up and down at a safe distance, careful not to attract the attentions of these new strange vessels sitting in the "fragrant harbour."6
He could see a stone fort just across the water. China was probably there right now, talking to his generals and not caring a whit about him. Apparently staying at the top of the power ladder was more important than one's relative…especially if that relative was just a miniscule island far, far away from Beijing. Hong Kong's stomach, though pressed against the stone beneath him, churned with anger.
Even the pirates were better than this, he thought. All they did was take supplies. And build temples.
Hong Kong lay on his rock, trying to shut out the faint noises of construction. Just as he was beginning to relax, the sounds of footsteps and strange voices approached.
"Here it is, chaps. Lot 84. I don't think anyone else has branched out this far yet, but don't worry. I'm positive that as the city expands, this spot will be a prime location. That map - give it here, will you? I'd like to see if perhaps we can build out a few docks for loading. Elliot wouldn't mind it too much. What do you think?" 7
Hong Kong pulled himself up to his feet and looked back up inland. Sure enough, more pale skinned men with pale hair and pale eyes were walking towards him, unaware of their tiny observer.
He was never going to escape these infuriating gweilos. Hong Kong vaulted over the rocks, providing a nice shock for the businessmen surveying their new land. Ignoring their shouts of amazement, he took off along the coast, hoping to find refuge in the beaches of the south.
With his shin still smarting from the kick, England angrily strode upstairs, only limping slightly. That would bruise later. It wasn't as if he'd wished to separate him from his brother - England had suggested Zhoushan, but that Pottinger had the nerve to cross out the treaty's words and write in his own agenda!8
But, he reflected, the Baronet had been a great asset in the war. And the colony was now flourishing under his hand.
"Heeeey!"
England glanced up to see a young man stretched across his writing chair. The blond, blue-eyed youth had flung the tall windowpanes wide open, so that all the hustle and bustle of the street below could be seen and heard clearly.
"Get the goods?"
"Yes." England set himself down in an armchair and examined his leg. Sure enough, the skin was beginning to purple.
"Yeah, saw 'em loading it in."
"Then what was the point in asking?"
America didn't seem to hear his retort, still leaning towards the window. His eyes shined - or maybe it was the sunlight on his glasses - at the sight of the hefty load.
"That's a lot of silver. Don't think you would mind sharing?"
"I would mind very much indeed." England stood up quickly. He winced, feeling a twinge go up his left leg.
America finally turned towards him and noticed the injury. "How'd you get that?"
"Hong Kong." England's expression soured. "I can't believe I have to take care of that little brat. Such impertinence…"
"You can't expect someone who's just been invaded to throw you a party for it," deadpanned his friend. "All this Imperialism idiocy, it's getting to your head. You don't see me running around claiming random islands for the United States."
England crossed over to a peg on the wall, grabbing his coat and hat. "Then what, pray tell, are you doing here in China? Don't lie to yourself, git. You were a part of this entire debacle and were on our side, may I remind you."
The younger nation grinned. "Well, yeah! We all like the tea! I'm just being a good businessman, like everyone else here. Germany, Netherlands, Portugal, France, it's like the country club of export connoisseurs. Get it? Country club?"
England snorted. "Ingenious. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a colony to take care of."
America scooted the chair back towards the desk. "Don't lose your panties over this, bro. Everything's going to work out. This will be the new jewel in the crown, I promise you."
Rolling his eyes, England left the room, pulling his arms through the sleeves of his coat in the process. America wiggled his fingers and gave his attention to the typewriter in front of him.
"We believe that Hong Kong is destined," he typed, "by the uncontrollable force of circumstances, to become the base of naval and military operations. Which sooner or later must revolutionize, or subvert, the existing state of things in China."9
He paused and looked out the window again, past the new factories, businesses, and warehouses rising up to the glittering harbour beyond. Ships of all nationalities and models dotted the blue water, too many to count within a single glance.
"This place is gonna be big," he said to himself.
May 1930
Hong Kong, slouched at his desk, smushed his brush against the ink block. Lifting it up, he regarded how the hairs now jutted out crookedly. His paper was dotted with little black spots with a single shake. Now that would earn a scolding from his teacher.
It would earn him a scolding from England too. England scolded him a lot, lately, but Hong Kong knew he had reason to. After all, taking care of a kid who constantly protests about anything and everything you tell him was a right pain in the arse.
Though first, he'd mostly felt shock. Shock at the sudden rise of all those buildings - very austere, formidable ones that gleamed white and marble amongst his green mountains. Shock at the day he woke up and felt taller, just to be informed that China had also given England jurisdiction over Kowloon. Hong Kong had instantly crossed the harbour. The farmers had welcomed him happily, but nobody allowed him inside the walled city. Apparently that was the only spot that China could still claim for his own, but England had firmly declared that Hong Kong was now British.10 Another surprise growth spurt occurred again later, when the territory behind the Kowloon side mountains were given to him.
By that point, Hong Kong had transitioned into protesting. The first time had actually brought him somewhere - England's office, where there were very irritated green eyes beneath the thick eyebrows.
"Just what do you think you're going to get out of this?" Hong Kong merely stared at the tapping of gloved fingers on wood. "I created this city to grant free trade for all Europeans. And as much as I hate to admit it myself, that includes France. As an honourable gentleman, I will not stray from my word. You will tell the men at the wharf to continue serving the French ships. Are we understood?"
Hong Kong bit back a grimace. It was a better idea to look as blank as possible in this situation, especially when what you really wanted to do was stand on your chair, point at that smirking Frenchman in the corner and shout: But what about the Chinese people? We can't ignore what he's been doing to the mainlanders! If we don't want to help him, then we just won't!
But he'd kept his mouth shut, and then the Frenchie had given him a flower. Said he'd discovered it on the south side of the island. Hong Kong would have crushed it to a pulp if it wasn't actually quite pretty with its purplish-pink petals.11
Forty years later, when the May 30th incident happened in Shanghai, England had grown accustomed to his antics. Hong Kong actually got away with 16 months of protesting before realizing that it wasn't actually helping his local situations.
He sighed and turned over to a new page in his workbook. Carefully wiping his brush as to smooth out the hairs, Hong Kong began to write labouriously.
Announcement: Opening of food centre/camp in Yau Ma Tei. Accommodation: 500 mainland refugees. Needed: volunteers to organize.
There was no way England could argue against this one. It helped people and he was practicing his English.
He had to give the Brit credit in a few areas: whenever it was a case of merely supporting any cause in China, England would always let him do it. A lot of the people had very strong opinions - and England had no qualms about spreading controversial newspapers. As long as there was peace within the colony, he had explained, talking about how China should be governed was a safe subject. Then, when mainlanders began to migrate over, Hong Kong was sure that it would bother England. Yet all of the people flooding into the city were welcomed and Hong Kong was allowed to do as much as he could to help them - and did they ever need it. Sometimes, the news was almost enough to make Hong Kong feel better about being under British rule. Almost.
When he wasn't watching his brother's country fall apart, Hong Kong's own business kept him busy enough.12 The acquisition of more land and constant influx of immigration was already a handful, but his growth as a colony had attracted a lot of other nations. Just as America had predicted, men from all over the world had flocked to the newest trading port where foreigners no longer had to deal with crotchety Chinese middlemen. During those early years, Hong Kong sometimes snuck out to sit outside Western teahouses and listen to all the strange accents.
Meanwhile, there were reforms and upgrades of every sort introduced into his system. From transportation to technology and even education, foreigners had permeated practically every walk of life on his streets. Not to say that he no longer felt Chinese - some of the highest levels of businessmen were Asian, and whenever he wanted to escape England's horrible scones, it was easy to dash down to a teahouse and buy almond cookies or milk buns.
He snickered to himself when he remembered the complaints of one of England's human lackeys, back when he was just an island:
"There does not appear the slightest probability that, under any circumstances, Hong Kong will ever become a place of trade. It is worse than folly to persist in a course begun in error, and which, if continued, must eventually end in disappointment and in national loss and degradation."13
Too bad the guy had died in 1868. If only he saw Hong Kong now - managing almost a third of his older brother's global trade and as international as you could possibly get!
Now that Hong Kong had truly thought about it…he was secretly content with being a colony. It had taught him a lot, having to live with England notwithstanding. Anyway, the man only fussed and fretted because he wanted the best for him. He was hiscolony.
Hong Kong blinked, feeling shocked that he'd even comprehended such a sentimental notion. Not even realizing that his brush had slipped and left a long black stroke down his forearm.
"Haiiii," he groaned, resting his forehead onto the desktop.
America, the current visitor of the week, happened to be strolling past his room as Hong Kong shut his eyes. Peering at the younger boy, he smiled at how much Hong Kong had grown since they'd first met, nearly a century before. America had spent most of the day exploring, and was amazed at the hybrid culture that had sprung up here.
There was nothing quite like it anywhere else. Downtown in Central, the streets clattered with the noise of trams, automobiles, rickshaws and people rushing back and forth. All the banks, offices and government buildings were these austere giants that dominated the skyline from afar, America saw all the details up close. And he thought it was incredible. Practically all the signs were in Chinese, advertising tailors and restaurants and pawnshops with their little bat-coin signs. When he walked along the docks, he couldn't help but stop to watch a group of labourers pulling a cart filled with exports past the massive European ships waiting to be loaded - and the swift little junks with their ribbed sails pulled down. Everywhere he went, there was a drive and determination that rivalled even his own country.
Not that he'd been too overwhelmed by the city's charm. America also noticed the things that could have remained hidden. Like how the British gentleman getting off his rickshaw didn't bother directly paying the man who had pulled him around all afternoon, but threw the coins on the pavement instead. How Chinese and even Eurasians weren't allowed to live on Victoria Peak, or to join the fancy Hong Kong Club. It was strange and intriguing how these two groups, the British and the Chinese, seemed to work together and separately at the same time.
He looked at the boy who had dozed off on top of his schoolwork. It seemed that this was the same case for the nations as well.
America quietly shut the door and returned to his own quarters. Slipping a new sheaf of paper into his typewriter, he started to tap out another article.
"Though there is an unmistakable air of East meets West within this 'window on China,' it is evident from the most perfunctory glance around the streets that the British do run Hong Kong: autocratically, efficiently, firmly, sometimes unimaginatively, never with any pretence of popular rule, but always with strict justice...if only they were a little more loving."14
March 1941
England stepped into his office and closed the door. Once alone, he pulled off his hat and tossed it into a corner, not caring when it completely missed the chair and hit the floor. He dropped into the tall, stiff chair at his desk, sighing and rubbing his forehead.
It was his first day back in Asia after lots of travel. And before that, lots of arguing. Not that it was an uncommon event at Parliament, but being embroiled in another war of such global importance had a tendency to generate a much different kind of tension.
"We cannot afford to participate in fighting in two theatres," declared a man, a thumb hooked under his suit jacket.
Quite a few others nodded gravely in agreement. One stood up. "It's far too much trouble battling two fronts, and that's already within a single continent! Defending this city alone is a nightmare. Declaring war on Japan will be disastrous for the colonies. We are spread much too thinly here."
"Nonsense. This is the British Empire you're talking about. On which the sun never sets! Japan wouldn't dare challenge our authority."
The first speaker scoffed. "No, that's the real nonsense! Look," He suddenly wheeled around and fixed a stare on England himself. "You can't possibly be in two places at once, can you?"
"And it's not a matter of declaring war on Japan, it's the inevitable pass that they shall declare war on us," hissed the thin fellow seated on the other side of the room. "Their aim is to take all of China, and for all intents and purposes to them, that includes the island of Hong Kong."
England looked to the man on his left. Sir Geoffry Northcote, the current governor of said colony, was frowning. Taking out a large handkerchief, he coughed violently into the cloth before speaking.
"Upon the official declaration of war between China and Japan, I had instantly announced Hong Kong as a neutral zone. However, precautions have been made. All European residents are liable for conscription and many British citizens have already evacuated to Australia."
"That's not the point," said the thin man angrily. "I'm saying that we will eventually be forced to confront the situation in Asia whether we can afford it or not, and the Empire will fall."
England's eyes narrowed. Everyone else had been rendered speechless.
"No, it won't," declared a new voice.
The room turned to see Prime Minister Winston Churchill enter with his hat in hand. He already had a determined, calculated expression etched into his face, and was already addressing the council before even taking a seat.
"The ultimate issue of the Pacific front is not whether the Japanese shall take Hong Kong or not, but when and how. The decision is delicate because we must not support our Chinese allies as much as possible. If Hong Kong is given up easily, we lose our credibility and honour." He eyed England carefully. "Once the war is over, China may lay claim to him once more."
A murmur rippled across the men and England frowned. Hong Kong was not one of the important colonies, particularly in comparison to India or Australia. Yet he was their main, most important connection to China. That was his purpose, anyway.
"However, it is also true that such a small territory with limited resources cannot hold out against an invasion. There is no doubt in my mind that Hong Kong cannot be defended."
A louder torrent of chatter burst from the men and England was torn. There were loyal British citizens on that island readying for a fight. Not to mention one occasionally irritating, but very innocent nation-child.
Churchill stood up and spoke slowly and clearly. "My decision is this: I will not reduce the local garrison. China would be aware of such an action in an instant and we must show our loyalties. The goal will be to assign Hong Kong as an outpost, an area to be fortified and defended as much as possible before the inevitable fall. I expect all men to perform nobly and bravely. Every day that is used to prevent the advance for the enemy is a victory for the Allied Forces."
He sat back down, and the room erupted into conversation. As everybody else dissolved into small clumps of heated discussion, England hastily got up and picked his way over to the Prime Minister.
"Excuse me, sir-"
Churchill fixed him with a steely gaze. "The local garrison is probably not enough, that's true. Perhaps a support battalion from elsewhere in the Commonwealth can be of service."
England blinked, finding himself nodding. "Yes, sir."
"You should supervise that yourself. Personally would be best. In fact, why don't you escort Northcote back to his post. His illness has cleared up quite a bit, so he's in much better condition to travel."
It was not a suggestion, it was an order. England understood.
He had spent most of his time on his way to Asia planning and feeling uneasy. Upon his arrival, all the officials and merchants who greeted him at the docks seemed to be, amazingly, neither affected nor worried about the war raging above them. England had endured three hours of the idle chatter and ridiculous pomp until he finally escaped to his residence - where he had bestowed a perfunctory pat on his little colony's head before fleeing once more to his office. Though the airheaded British elite were not concerned about the war, Hong Kong seemed fully aware of the issue at hand. England had felt his eyes upon his back all the way to the point of closing the door. But of course he was; the boy had been following the news in China extremely carefully. Hong Kong was an immediate danger on the Pacific front due to his close proximity to where all the action was happening. Japan was swiftly moving south towards Guangdong province, so it would be no surprise when he'd begin drawing plans for direct war against the Allies.
With that in mind, England reached for the telephone on his desk and dialled. When the line picked up, the words he uttered were calm, confident and without any sign of uncertainty.
"Calling Ottawa, please."
November 1941
Canada wiped the sweat off his brow, breathing heavily. The combination of Hong Kong's hot, humid weather and mountainous terrain made surveillance missions quite challenging, but he was determined to stick it out. It was his first real foray into the war, and Canada intended to stay dedicated to the cause as much as possible.15
In front of him, his guide and fellow nation was stepping nimbly up the rocks seemingly without effort.
Hong Kong turned around at the top. "And there's Wong Nai Chung. The reservoir is that way."
Canada, Major General Christopher Maltby, Brigadier John Lawson and the rest of their small group of soldiers caught up to him after a few minutes. Shedding his pack, Canada gazed around him in awe.
"Wow," he murmured. "This is amazing."
The men's eyes followed Hong Kong's arm down the slope to the valley below, where the entire hillside was a bumpy carpet of dark green. There was a winding road at one side, serving as the main link between the north and south sides of the island. At this level, one could make out a glittering sea beyond the mountains.
Maltby stepped forward, unfurling a map in his hands.
"Right, let's get to work. There may not be much time. This is the plan for the defence of Hong Kong."
Men crowded around at these words. Canada leaned in, but not before noticing that Hong Kong was the only person standing apart from the circle, having opted to climb on top of a boulder and watch the cars putter past on the road below.
"Though we are certain that Japan will come in from mainland China, we cannot rule out a possible naval invasion. That's why I want you Canadians here on the island side. We'll have troops in the south to monitor on the seas."
Everybody nodded to convey understanding. Maltby pointed at a red dotted line on the map. "Here is where we've been working to create the main opposition to any Japanese invasion from the north. The Lion Rock mountain range is already a natural barrier, so what we've done is fortified it. Along this trail, the Gin Drinker's Line, there is a series of pillboxes and lookouts that can support up to six battalions of men.16 There is a formidable redoubt at Shing Mun that functions as headquarters. The Royal Scots, Punjabs and the Rajputs shall be posted there with Brigadier Cedric Wallis as their leader."
From his vantage point on the rock, Hong Kong frowned at the soldier's hunched over backs. That made only three battalions.
"Though there isn't much we can do for the New Territories, this is the best we have. We're predicting that it will hold off the Japanese for at least three weeks, probably more." Maltby rubbed his chin. "Think of it as the Maginot Line of the east."17
This time, it was Canada's turn to frown. It was clear how well the Maginot Line had performed before, which was not a reassuring thought.
"Here, of course, is where we are now," Maltby continued. "Which is where I leave you. The Wong Nai Chung gap is immensely important to this island as it connects the two communities at Central and Stanley. We've been fortifying it for the past few years, actually. Perhaps you'd like to take an HQ here, Brigadier."
The senior officer was already scanning the landscape carefully. As Maltby approached him to discuss pillbox locations, he called out to the Canadian soldiers.
"Better start getting a feel of this place."
Canada nodded, and knelt to open his pack. Before he could reach in to take out his field glasses, he felt a tug on his sleeve.
"Do you like seafood? We can go to Sai Kung later and have it fresh," Hong Kong told him.
The older nation flashed him an apologetic smile.
"I'd love to, but I can't leave my soldiers here. Can I take a rain check?" He reached over and squeezed the preteen's shoulder. "I need to make sure you're in good hands."
"I think I'm okay…"
Canada wasn't quite sure if he believed him entirely. "Don't worry. I'm going to fight for you."
Hong Kong shot him a look that he didn't quite comprehend. Maltby finished his hushed conversation with Lawson and walked towards them.
"We should head back to headquarters," he told Hong Kong. The General saluted Canada, who returned the gesture. "Thank you for all your support."
"It's my duty and honour," he replied. Then he watched until both disappeared down the mountain before turning back to work. To be completely honest, Canada had the smallest of misgivings in his heart. Japan had been working hard at taking China bit by bit for practically a decade. The troops his boss had sent to Hong Kong had never seen an actual battle before. They were eager and loyal, just as he was, but Canada was terrified of what was in store for them.18
December 1941
Hong Kong had been in church when it finally happened. After the harried-looking officials had hurried Governor Mark Young out of St. John's Cathedral, he'd slipped out of his own seat in the second row - not caring about the scandalized looks on the pastor's face - and followed him outside.
As they hurried down the hillside, news attacked them from all angles. The Japanese, having shocked the world with their attack on Hawaii earlier than morning, had just dropped bombs onto Kai Tak Airport in Kowloon.
"They managed to get every single Royal Air Force aircraft as well as the fighters reserved for the HK Volunteer Defence Corps. Japan has complete control of the skies."
"And our remaining naval destroyers left for Singapore mere days ago…so they also have complete control of the seas."
Hong Kong barely had to listen. He could see the smoke rising lazily from across the harbour into the bright blue sky.
Thirty minutes later, as they were sitting in Victoria Barracks with frantic military officers rushing about all around them, the news broke in that Japanese troops had crossed the Shenzhen River into the New Territories.
The Battle for Hong Kong had officially begun.
There was little to do but wait. Hong Kong spent the rest of the day huddled on his chair in HQ, trying to ignore his churning stomach as he knew - he felt - the residents of the New Territories fleeing towards Kowloon. They were just giving up the largest portion of Hong Kong territory to Japan, who was surely, definitely, determinedly coming for him.
It seemed that the entire colony was depending on the Gin Drinker's Line. Hong Kong woke up at midnight in a cold sweat, realizing that Japan had started to attack it. The next few days were a nightmare as the poorly manned defence raged against the hardened Japanese troops. Even with Maltby's promise of a three week holdout, Hong Kong went outside two days later to see the Tsim Sha Tsui railway terminus clock tower smoking. Kowloon now belonged to Japan.
On the 18th, Japan led his men across the harbour and landed on the north-eastern shores of the island. Hong Kong felt trapped within the confines of Victoria Barracks. The Commonwealth soldiers were fighting tooth and nail against their far more experienced enemy, and the Chinese civilians could do little but take cover. Canada was out there, defending a small colony that he barely knew just for the sake of the British Empire. Brigadier Wallis, having retreated to the island after the Gin Drinker's Line fell, was stuck in Stanley whilst Brigadier Lawson led the Canadians in a fierce battle at Wong Nai Chung that resulted in the loss of his own life.
It looked like Hong Kong would make history in this war, as the first of British territory to be taken by an enemy force.
Sir Young surrendered on Christmas day. He had refused twice before, but there was no hope now. Hong Kong watched Japanese soldiers jeering at the young governor as he boarded the ship that would take him to a Japanese prisoner camp. He had only been in office for four months.
Lieutenant General Takashi Sakai was Hong Kong's new boss now, and his first Japanese one. The man was stern, often glaring at him suspiciously from behind his perfectly circular glasses. This was exactly what he was doing when Japan arrived in person.
To his surprise, Japan was not as frightening and harsh as Hong Kong imagined him to be. The nation was much shorter than most of his soldiers, and spoke in a calm, gentle manner.
"Hong Kong," he said kindly, leaning over to look at him at eye level. "We are brothers, you and I. Please don't take this the wrong way. This was not an invasion, but a rescue from the clutches of the Europeans. All I wish for is an Asia that is governed and populated by Asians. A unified continent where we can all prosper as a family."
Japan waited, but Hong Kong made no response.
The Japanese generals stirred slightly, and for the first time since the meeting began, Japan frowned down at him. "It's clear that being under England's thumb for so long has brainwashed you, but not to worry. We will remove these foreign cultural habits from your system. I will make you understand."
In spite of his size, Japan still managed to be very intimidating. Hong Kong stared after him as the nation strode away.
Now it was just him, General Sakai, and what seemed to be an endless wave of Japanese soldiers. The red and white paper flag in his fist did not flap in the breeze. It was Christmas, and there were people dying all over the land. It was Christmas, and he was a prisoner.
June 1943
It was early on a muggy, damp morning when Hong Kong carefully slipped out of bed, down the hall, past the dozing guards and out of his assigned residence. Luckily for him, most of the Japanese soldiers were relaxed and sleepy, and his skinny frame made it easier to sneak away. Any Chinese who had managed to survive up to this point were only seen alone, stalking the streets like ghosts - if they dared walk around in public, that is. And that's exactly how Hong Kong felt like himself.
He stumbled across deserted roads and past tall buildings that stared vacantly down at him, their worn signs flapping in the wind. After walking for what felt to be hours, Hong Kong finally found himself a good distance away from Central and collapsed warily onto his rock.
Any other time, this would be soothing. Waves from the harbour lapped upwards without a care to the people starving and hurting on either side of it.
When Japan had declared Hong Kong as his territory, Canada had been told to leave, as he did not belong in the "Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere."19 Hong Kong dreamed of his only friend now fending off attackers in some distant battlefield in Europe. It was difficult for him to imagine the war continuing throughout the rest of the world. Here, it looked like the ends of the Earth.
Before the war, people were endlessly pouring in from China. What used to be a city of 1.5 million strong had dwindled down to almost a third of that original number. Hong Kong lay on his rock and thought of the Allied civilians in Stanley camp. As much as he knew they were suffering, at least they were safe behind prison walls. The civilian Chinese had no protection at all. The Japanese police force, the Kempeitai, used his people for sport. They took anything they wished, whether it was your home, your belongings, or your lives.
Japan had promised that he was going to take care of him. If so, this was a very strange way of showing it.
As a nation-being, Hong Kong could not take the option to flee or die. There were officials observing him at any given time of the day (except for now, clearly) and he was forced to be subject to any of their whims. Japanese language and etiquette was now a mandatory course at schools. It slightly helped that written Japanese was similar to Chinese characters, but heaven forbid if Hong Kong mispronounced a word.
A hot breeze floated by his face, causing limp tendrils of hair to wave helplessly around his thin face. His stomach gurgled against the stone. He was really hungry. So hungry. Nobody had enough food. People were allowed exactly 242 grams of rice per day. Some went after the rats, as meat was virtually unheard of now. Even the racehorses collapsed with fatigue as their jockeys forced them around the tracks.
What Hong Kong would give for one of England's nigh-poisonous meals. As he lay there, motionless and face downwards, the memory of his former caretaker floated into his mind.
If England appeared right this moment and automatically began to lecture him on getting his clothes dirty, he'd be happy as a clam.
September 1945
As he walked towards Government House,20 Hong Kong felt the sun warming the back of his neck. It was as if the weather was aware of today's events, acting surprisingly peaceful and balmy even though it was a rainy season.
Just a month before, the colony had been utter chaos. The Japanese had stopped even pretending to care about the state of things in Hong Kong. When all stores of rice were depleted in 1944, Governor Rensuke Isogai simply stopped rationing and left the entire city scrambling for a way to keep themselves from starving. People would eat anything from peanut bran to tree roots…and that was if they could get past the Kempeitai.
How Hong Kong had managed to keep on going for the past three years and eight months was beyond him. After Japan and Canada had left, he hadn't had anybody to come speak to him - the Japanese officials occasionally ordering him around hardly counted. But nobody stopped him from listening in to the news of the rest of the war, so Hong Kong knew when help was coming. In truth, Japan had began to lag behind in the war effort as early as 1942, with America hard on his heels.
The atomic bombs still came with a shock, but afterwards Hong Kong had gone outside to watch the skies for America. He knew that if anyone would come, it would be he.
Hong Kong was rewarded for his perseverance less than two weeks later when Japan surrendered unconditionally to the Allies. Planes from the USS Lexington came soaring over the colony, dropping much needed supplies. Though they were far too high to be sure, Hong Kong was positive one of the pilots had to be America.
Today, he walked through the gates and into the building that served as the residence of the highest ranking official of his city. Passing through the hallways, he noticed that his British coat of arms had been mounted on the wall again.
"On the behalf of the Emperor of Japan and the Japanese Imperial Headquarters…"
Hong Kong slipped into a large assembly hall used for meetings. The tension in the air was one of eagerness, even an edge of impatience. All of the officials present, Japanese and colonial British alike, were desperate to return to their homes in order to begin fixing all that had been broken and hurt in the past few years.
"We do hereby unconditionally surrender ourselves and all forces under our control to Rear-Admiral Cecil Halliday Jephson Harcourt, CB, CBE, and undertake to carry out all such instructions as may be given by him or under his authority and to issue all necessary orders for the purpose of giving effect to all his instructions."21
The Japanese man reading this instrument of surrender quieted as the British burst into a round of applause. On the long table was a ceremonial sword. Major-General Umekichi Okada slowly picked it up with both hands. With his palms facing upwards, he proffered it across the table towards Harcourt, who accepted it with grace and dignity. And that was it - Hong Kong was now officially back in British control.
As all the men began to clap again, Hong Kong suddenly recognized one of them seated a short distance away from Harcourt. England looked more gaunt, tired and tougher than Hong Kong had ever seen him before. His stomach flipped. News of the European front had been largely ignored, as most people were only concerned with the immediate situations. Hong Kong realized that his cranky teacher had probably gone through just as much stress and tension, having to commandeer a global war effort as well as taking care of a crumbling empire.
"Ahh…Hong Kong!"
Before he knew it, England was looking down at him. Hong Kong could not say a word.
"Dear God..."
Hong Kong found himself being easily lifted off his feet. England wrapped one arm around his legs as support while he continued talking.
"What the hell did they do to you? The bastards…Come on, let's get you something to eat."
Dazed, Hong Kong only noticed that they'd left the assembly hall when he saw the lion and dragon from his coat of arms bobbing next to his head. Or to be correct, he was bobbing up and down past them.
"I recall you rather liked those little bread things, those pork buns. I'm not sure if we can find any right now in this mess of a city, but we can try."
England had never actually carried Hong Kong before, unless you counted that one instance when they first met. Even if he had, Hong Kong now resembled a boy in his early teens, so it still looked very odd to see him being hoisted around in another man's arms.
"There are people performing dragon dances in the street. I don't suppose you'd like to go, but honestly, I'd prefer not getting lost in the crowds. If you feel up to it, we can watch the fireworks later…"
Hong Kong sighed and rested his head onto the Brit's shoulder, unconsciously curling one arm around his neck. England rubbed him gently on the back as they walked away from the commotion of the city.
Part 2.