Writer’s note: Warning for the discussion of that sensitive topic. This is probably the shortest chapter in this whole fanfic. I was trying to cut it down so I could fit it in with the next chapter, but that did and could not happen. So, here is a short chapter that I just want to get rid of. But, I could not get rid of it, because it is kind of important, though boring and crappy AF. So, sorry about that. Anywho, please bless me with comments if you have time^^ Thank you for reading. And, please look forward to the next update. That is one of my favorite chapter and…GURL! Just wait for it. 

Writer's note: Thank you for the amazing comments, as always^^

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“In the arms of the angel. Fly away from here. From this dark cold hotel room. And the endlessness that you fear. You are pulled from the wreckage. Of your silent reverie. You're in the arms of the angel. May you find some comfort here.”— In The Arms Of The Angel by Sarah McLachlan

Lieah cried really hard and loudly when she learnt of her friend’s passing. No one could console her. Not even Seungjun.

No word was good enough, nor conveyed the correct emotion and support.

The last thing she muttered through her streams of tears and howl of pain before she locked herself in her bedroom for what ended up being two days was, “If I had been there… I could have protected her.”

Jaejoong wanted to know how she could have helped her friend and how the girl passed. It made no sense for his sister to hold such a strong guilt and sense of responsibility. It was an accident. A tragic one, but one Lieah had no power over.

That’s what he wanted to tell her, but his mother grip his shoulder firmly, stopping him from saying anything with a shake of her head. She looked up at her middle child with such tenderness that he became overwhelmed and wanted to crumbled up in her arms as he used to when he was younger.

Lieah had known Hyeena since she was five years old, meeting at their first Youth Club assembly. They were best of friends and had done everything together. Losing the girl was like losing a part of her.

He did not like seeing his sister broken.

As Jaejoong grabbed his bag, he heard his mother on the phone with Lieah’s job.

A month was the amount of time she would be given to grieve if she so desired—The Period of Grieving. The amount of time people got off after a death depended on how closed the living was to the dead, and what they petitioned for.

Many children, depending on age, get a year off. But it was believed that keeping up with the everyday routines of life after a loved one passes made it easier to accept and deal with—not necessarily move on, because one never truly heals and move on.

Jaejoong and Moonbok did not know how to comfort her.

They ran out of the house that morning, ready to get lost in the fast paced preparation of the festival. The stench of sorrow stuck to their hair, clothes, skin, and the back of their throat.

When Jaejoong met up with Yunho on their way to school, their grave expression made them open their mouths to ask at the same time after the other’s wellbeing. Yunho told Jaejoong to go first.

They learnt then that both of their sisters knew Hyeena.

That did was not a shocker, given they had already deduced that their sisters knew each other and somewhat ran in the same circle. How intimate they were was what they did not know .

They tried their hardest to not think about Hyeena and her grieving family when they were at school.

Walking home, Jaejoong told Yunho to give his sister his condolence, and Yunho told him to do the same for him.

It was both of their first experience with the passing of someone so young.

In the darkness of night, Yunho overheard Sanah talking on the phone with Junho in a quiet, shaky voice.

Standing in the dark corridor, outside of the interaction room, Yunho felt as if he was always eavesdropping on his sister. But he could not bear to step away.

He ended up sliding against the wall, crouching on the ground, forehead on folded arms.

Through the young woman’s agonizing sobs and long stretches of silence, there was a lot of “I need to go…” “The last time.” “She really is gon—.”I just refuse to believe it.” “I cannot accept it...If I do not, then—” “I feel so apologetic...” “I know I shouldn’t, but...” “I just miss her so much.”

The conversation was raw and intimate. Not for Yunho’s ears.

With his legs cramping, guilt began filling his throat, suffocating him. The eighteen year old decided against the water he had been on the pursuit of, reasoning he would turned around and go back to his room.

His legs, half asleep gave away under him when he tried standing, making him smacked his palm against the wall, drawing attention to his presence.

Yunho called out to his sister and asked her what she was doing up. Acting as if he had not been listening on her private conversation.

Wiping her tears, she said she was talking to her boyfriend because she couldn’t sleep.

The general felt tiny and insignificant standing in front of his grieving, wet eyed, broken sister and being unable to offer her any peace of mind.

In an act of swift deliberation, Yunho dropped next to her on the floor, offering to stay up with her till she fell asleep.

He roped an arm around her waist, she dropped her head on his shoulder and scooted closer.

She fisted his shirt and cried, lips pressed tightly together.

“Poppi,” Yunho looked inside his grandfather’s bedroom. He was sitting near the window, reading a thick, vintage volume. He looked up and arranged his glasses.

“Yes, Yunho?”

“Can I…” he his bottom lips nervously and stepped side—way to stand in the middle of the doorway. “May I come in?”

“Yes.” He closed his novel, placed it on a low table and fixed his feet on the cushion leg rest.

Yunho walked in and closed the door. “So,” he began, rubbing his clammy palms together.

His great grandfather’s eyes, sharp and scintillated with knowledge, remained on Yunho as he looked all around the roomy, tastefully designed bedroom.

“Do you want to talk?”

Looking at Poppi, he smiled, resembling a cute puppy.

Boy, Yunho did want to talk.

Among the many subjects he wanted to talk about, the one he wanted to discuss the most that night was his sister.

“This is about...Sanah.”

The elder man arched an eyebrow. “I do not know how much I can help with that, but talk to me.” He smiled warmly at his great grandchild.

“So.” Yunho dropped on the ground, facing Poppi, bringing his knees to his chest. “Umm...I will just be truthful.”

“Please.” He encouraged.

“I am worried about Sanah.”

“You are?”

The teenager nodded.

“Then, why don’t you tell her that?”

“No...Ummm. Okay, I will begin from the start.”

“From the start?”

Yunho nodded. “There has been a tension in this house since Sanah’s ‘hiking’ trip accident. My parents, they look worried all the time. And….Sanah’s friend died—” he dropped his head, eyes running on the wooden floor. He mingled his fingers tightly together. “She is….she seems...tensed, worried, and...in a constant state of intense fear and desperation.”

“Yunho, what is bothering you?”

He slowly tilted his head and looked in Poppi’s keen eyes.

“What?”

“What are you really here for, child?”

To be included.

Inhaling, he straightened his tan muscular legs.

“Lately, it feels as if….” he paused, thinking his words as he vocalized them. “I don’t know. I feel like there is something you are all in and I am out of. And...I fear for Sanah. What if she is in a dangerous organization?”

It was known that there was a wild, though harmless, rebel group made by ungrateful, corrupted young adults. Though Sanah was not corrupted, or not well reared by his parents, or ungrateful—right?—she was, however, outrageous and always going for the adrenaline rush.

He feared her need to be something more than just a good citizen might have lead her to do something reckless, and that’s why she was covered in bruises and broken right now.

Plus, look at her! She was hurt. Her friend’s dead. She had been doing something she should had not, that Yunho knew.

Poppi began laughing, it was clear and booming.

Yunho blushed. “Are my worries stupid?”

“No, child. Listen, Yunho, if you worry about Sanah, talk to her. Furthermore, your sister loves you a lot. She will always do her best to protect you. The weight of her battles might get elevated if you were to help her carry them, but she doesn’t want any weight on you. She wants you to be as free as a bird. She wants you to soar.”

There he went again with his cryptic statements.

Battles, weight, bird, soar? He was being played for a fool. But no more!

Yunho rolled his eyes at Poppi. “You are right. Maybe it will be better if I just talk to her.”

And get to the bottom of whatever this was.

Poppi chuckled at the boy. “Sit down. Let’s talk.”

Tensing up, Yunho remained seated and leveled a measured look at his great—grandfather.

He was not a child anymore.

Sniggering, Poppi bended over and picked up his cup of water. After taking a sip, he started talking. “Yunho, death takes a toll on people. Your sister is just going through the emotions right now.”

“But, I feel as if there is more—”

“Listen and let me finish, son. Your sister’s friend, as Sanah is finding out, lived a life she deemed worthy of her demise. She made decisions that led her down a road in where she would have to kill. And only those that are prepared to die can kill.”

Yunho blinked, frowning. “Hyeena made...what? No. I knew Hyeena, she was a meek girl. She…”

“You never truly know anyone.”

Yunho was stunned.

“You are the same as her too, Yunho.”

“What?” He was defensive.

“You want to join the military, right?”

Blinking, Yunho nodded. “Yes.”

He didn’t know Hyeena planned to join the military. Had she?

Poppi looked intensely in his eyes with a serious expression. It made Yunho cower a bit.

“Yunho, if you want to go to war you must be prepared to die, because only those that have accepted death can kill.”

His heart shifted in his chest and made a loud thump. Fire rushed through his veins as he held his great grandfather's intense gaze. He was hypnotized and couldn’t look away.

“I…”

He knew that.

During his early Youth Club trainings, which everyone had been required to partake in, regardless of future career choices, Yunho had been taught that on the battlefield all that mattered was the protection of their beloved country and staying alive long enough to kill more of the enemies.

He knew he would have to kill, but he had never been slapped with the harsh reality of his future decisions in the manner Poppi had done it.

Yunho was not a murderer.

He was the one who always felt terrible after the hunting trips during his Youth Club camping trips. He did not like the taking of life—innocent life.

Murder in Peyisivil was considered a state crime and the murderer was severely punished. Yunho approved of such thing, because he was brought up by his family thinking ‘only those that created life can take a life.’ No one could create the life as they knew it on this planet, therefore none of them had a justifiable reason for killing another. His upbringing served as a huge conflict between his loyalty and love for his country.

His resolution remained unweakened, however, because it was his duty to protect this country and their freedom. It was all of their duty.

Breaking the gaze, Yunho dropped his head. “I...I am...I love this country.”

“And, that is reason enough for you to slaughter another,” Poppi droned softly in the background of the loud sound of Yunho’s drumming heartbeats. The sentence didn’t sound like a question nor a simple statement.

Was his undying love for Peyisivil enough to murder another?

“It is my duty,” he whispered. He felt attacked. Poppi must understood where he stood.

“Understandable.” The elderly man nodded.

Yunho inhaled slowly and softly, calming down.

“The older you get, Yunho, it becomes harder to change your views on things because you have already been conditioned. However, you also learn more. Things start to click and pictures begin to form. The reality you lived in when you were younger….shifts drastically. Your sister went through that. And she found her calling. A calling that is uncertain and might not reap the rewards she wants. Success might elude her forever, but when she dies, son, she will have lived a life worthy.”

 “What is this calling, Poppi?”

He wanted, no, needed to know.

Poppi seamlessly evaded Yunho’s question.

“Yunho, when you become an adult, a part of you stays as a child. But at the same time, you change. Those views you used to hold are refined and might even alter completely.” Poppi stopped and smiled gently at him.

Yunho didn’t realized how innocent and young he appeared in his great grandfather’s eyes, as he sat on the ground with his legs to his chest, crossed at the shin and eyes fixed on him as he intently listened.

“My boy, you will understand what I am saying when you are a bit older. But as for now, enjoy this summer.” He inhaled. “This paradoxical summer: a summer that appears to be dashing while also remaining frozen.”

“Illogical.” Yunho muttered.

Poppi nodded. “Exactly. Now, if you are still worried, talk to Sanah.”

“I will.”

He was. He wanted to know about this ‘uncertain’ road Sanah was on and if it had anything to do with Hyeena’s demised.

However, the burning need to talk to Poppi, to understand his sister’s sadness and the worry that had been hovering over his home, have now been lessened.

Leaving his Poppi’s room, Yunho realized, Sanah had an overbearing presence, but she was smart and she’d never join a dangerous organization that would be smashed into tiny pieces—that was if such a thing even existed. Why would citizens of this great country feel a need to go against the laws and rules of this land that were erected to protect them? Laws that allowed them to flourish and be great, and they were?  

Such an organization could not be birthed, because of how remarkable Peyisivil was.

They were citizens of the greatest country.