He was telling Macau about all the infrastructure projects they were planning for the central area of the island and he failed to notice Macau had stopped walking by his side until he turned to look at him, finding him several steps behind instead, staring at a group of people dressed in the traditional hanfu style walking down the street on their way to a festival, with their long flowing sleeves and beautiful silks, white sneakers on their feet.

Little things followed that. The way he always seemed to be carrying a history book around, the little notepad he kept on his person in which he scribbled notes and small drawings, his constant visits to museums.

He knew China saw it too. It was written in the tightness around his mouth, in the way he glanced at Macau from across the table, in the clipped tones he answered Macau’s casual questions about the history he missed while under Portugal’s rule.

They were on his side of the South China Sea when he finally blurted out the question, “Why do you do it?”

Macau, about to bite into the egg tart in his hand, paused and looked at him over his thin-wired glasses. “Do what?”

“The questions, the research. What do you get out of it?”

He looked at the egg tart in his hand, out into the open square in front of them and the setting sun over the sea. “I’m not sure.”

Hong Kong frowned at his own egg tart and took a big bite out of it, munching on the flaky pastry.

“I just…” Macau started, and he glanced at him, “I was young when I went away. There’s so much I don’t know.”

Hong Kong swallowed down the food and looked out at the sea as well, watching the sky turn orange as the sun descended behind the waves.

“Nerd,” he sentenced and Macau laughed, the tension in his shoulders dissipating, and Hong Kong smiled, taking another bite of his egg tart.

He glanced at him again, washed in twilight colors, and bumped his shoulder lightly with his own.

“I can help if you want,” he said, and then amended, “with the history lessons.”

Macau took his first bite of his egg tart and seemed to mull over the offer. “As long as you don’t charge me for them.”

He bumped his shoulder harder for that and Macau only laughed more.

-

Notes:

Macau was formally leased to the Kingdom of Portugal in 1557, during the Ming Dynasty, and was returned to China in 1999, under the status of a Special Administrative Region - same as Hong Kong.