"I love you."

She had heard the statement at times from the others—Korea (he said it to most the Asians), Japan (only once or twice, and it was always hushed, though sincere), even China (though those days were long past and gone, never again to return).

But she wasn't exactly prepared when she heard it from Hong Kong himself.

He had told her when the others weren't around, looking straight at her with those emotionless eyes of his. However, at that certain moment, they hadn't been emotionless—she thought they looked determined, but was too surprised to actually concentrate on such a thing. They had been sitting beside one another outside, just enjoying the sun. She had been eating some mochi and swinging her legs back and forth over the open deck, humming. He had turned to her and stared until she tilted her head and stared back at him with a questioning expression.

He had taken a deep breath before smiling one of those slow, small, rare smiles of his. He said it as if… it were the most normal thing in the world to say. No hesitation in his voice, no wavering.

"Hey, Taiwan. I love you."

She had said nothing, but it wasn't like she had been given the time to. After that, he had stood up, pat her on the head, then walked inside, leaving her shocked and… well, happy. He never said that to anyone. Though, being the worrisome person she was, she blinked and wondered a million different things. He was serious, right? He wasn't taking anything to make him crazy, right? Was he kidding, teasing her? What had gotten into him?

And the most puzzling one—what kind of love? How did he love her? What was love? Did she even understand what such a thing was?

Love is happy, love is warm, love is everything good.

But love is the most confusing.