I heard a voice within the pleasant coolness of the spring evenings, when the others had fallen into a deep slumber and I was alone with my thoughts. It was a subtle, dulcet tone which blew through my ears with the wind, calling out to me during those brief moments of serenity and calmness. Emphasising grief, it spoke of death and illness, loss of loved ones who had left them for various reasons which had caused great pain, things which had been experienced many a time before. It wasn’t until days later that I realised this was the voice of my own and although my words hadn’t been spoken they lingered in my mind, endlessly awaiting a chance to be voiced in public. 


Days passed us in a haze, minutes long forgotten during the overwhelming moments of our work, dread piling into my system as we returned to the cabin, waiting to be pursued by the restless General for whom I hadn’t yet grown to understand. I was a toy to be played with and thrown away once he had become bored. His attitude and everlasting hatred remained and I fell under the impression he would never change. But somewhere within, past the venom of his cold orbs, lay happiness and tears, hidden behind the supercilious manner portrayed. These emotions were yet to be recovered and perhaps when found, the hostile environment would commute. In time it would. 


I couldn’t help but wonder what had been missed in the time of my imprisonment. Each year China hosted a range of festivals to be enjoyed by all citizens. Festivals that I could no longer enjoy. Then there was Jia and Fei who I’d last seen months earlier and had no idea where I had gone. Had they forgotten about me since then? Did they wonder where I was? Did they have hope I would return?

 

 

My heart hurt when I thought of the world back home, when I thought about everything I was missing. I wondered if the girls still went to Kurenai’s dance classes, taking that same route that we had followed every day. I wondered if Jo Kwon still ran up towards them, as if I was still there, as if he was hoping that I would be amongst them, while leaves fluttered through the air, and the scents wafted around us from the bakeries close by.  

 

 

I missed them, I missed everything about that world that I had left behind. And I couldn’t blame anything but this stupid war which was tearing our worlds apart. I blamed the South  Korean army. I blamed the China army. I blamed Nichkhun.

 
Sulli was the only person who kept me living and I don’t know what I would have done without her. Without someone as peaceful as the kind eyed Hyuuga girl. She didn’t speak to me about Mei, and I didn’t either. Our hearts hurt just as the thought of her, that sweet little girl who was torn away from us too early. My eyes couldn’t spill any more tears, and I couldn’t drown in the sorrow. Were the soldiers treating us this way purposely, leaving us in these conditions because they wanted us to kill ourselves without their assistance? Was this a plan concocted by the General? 

 

 

*****


The day had started like any other, the only changes were those in the population of the camp as beds became unoccupied and work spaces were vacant. Although the others had evident hatred towards me, the severity and harshness in their actions had commuted and they were seemingly nicer in their approaches in work. They would no longer shove me out of their path or gossip unnecessarily in my company yet an awkward aura surrounded us at all times. I merely assumed the changes had come due to the fact that we were losing our battle with the South  Korean soldiers and if were to survive, we had to stick together, no matter how much it would have pained us to. Day by day we were losing our hope for survival or escape.

 
Beads of sweat hung on my forehead, running down the length of my face as the sweltering heat became unbearable. Clouds of steam entered the atmosphere from the boiling pots of food, the endless dripping of water into a sink which could not be stopped as I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed for the intense, torturous aching in my temples to end. I assumed I’d fallen ill to some disease which was carried throughout the camp, a lump sitting in my throat which forbade any food from entering. At some moments I felt like I was dying, my stomach grumbling in starvation, my body in intense pain yet the General had made no acknowledgement in my lack of eating or bodily condition. 

 
Those days he was seemingly far away from the rest of us, drifting off into his own world while we continued working. He was always preoccupied in his thoughts, too busy to pay attention to the camp in his possession. Curiosity urged out of me, attempting to escape my lips those evenings when I visited him. He would no longer say anything and I sat in his company for brief moments of time until he acknowledged that I was there, eventually asking me to leave when I couldn’t do anything for him. The change within him was astounding and strange that a possible answer for this didn’t exist. And I cursed myself for worrying about that cold bastard. 


“Victoria you don’t look too well,” the faint voice of Sulli entered my ears, refreshing coolness rushing to my forehead as she pressed her hand against my face. Worry was evident in her sparkling eyes, a hint of hesitation hidden in her tone as she examined me closely, awaiting a reply. 

 
“I’m fine. Completely fine,” I lied, twisting my head until my face was no longer visible in her line of sight. A single drop of warm liquid brushed onto the tip of my index finger, soaking it with the moist condensation of the air. 
 

“If you say you’re fine then okay,” The uncertainty was evident in her voice, “The others need you to fetch some water,” she a bucket into my hands, raising her brow in curiosity as I nodded in agreement. They all knew I would never refuse and sometimes I wondered if they abused this quality which existed within me. I was always the one asked to do these unwanted jobs yet never mentioned it because I didn’t want to infuriate anyone or gain enemies. I was too soft and innocent. 

 
I couldn’t have said no with all of the soldiers that surrounded us.
 

The door handle creaked as it was turned, and shoving the door open with as much strength as I could manage, I escaped from the fervent heat in the kitchen. A desolate area of land greeted my eyes as my feet shuffled against the cold gravel of the ground, avoiding the eyes of those soldiers who surrounded me.

 

 

Inhaling the icy freshness of the air, I felt free from the suffocations of the tight space I had been previously confined in. And the air which normally felt bitter against my skin didn’t seem to phase me. There was a pounding in my head as my eyes scanned over the cadaverous, bony structures of those who were once healthy men, sullen cheeks and hollow eyes, now downgraded and awaiting death. They lifted their heads as I passed, somewhat hoping that I was someone that they may have known, dropping them in embarrassment and false hope. 

 
With so many people forced into captivity in the camp, families had been split apart. Fathers struggled to find their sons, husbands couldn’t find their wives, children had been left alone – just as Mei had. I’m sure these men knew there was a slim chance of their loved ones still being alive, and I could feel the optimism deteriorating around me, as I looked at their faces, and the happiness and contentment that had once existed had been wiped from them.
 

 

This was a cruel world, it was.

I froze in my steps, paused in front of the water pump as I suppressed the nausea within me. My fingers wrapped around the handle, placing the bucket in an appropriate position as I pumped the handle. The water slowly began to fill the bucket, my shoulders falling as I heaved a sigh of despair. My eyes switched back and forth to find a distraction as I grew heavily unaware of the approaching figure that stood behind me. 

“Victoria? Victoria Song?”

 

 

My eyes widened in shock as a voice called out my name, the wind blowing my hair across my face. Unconsciously turning towards the owner of the voice, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, I stepped backwards, cautious of falling into the water that had spilled and dripped from the bucket. A man stood before me, face stained with dirt as a fresh scar became visible across his left cheek, crusted with crimson blood. His hair was outgrown and unkempt, evident for the days that he had spent here. He was seemingly familiar yet a name didn’t reach my mind, squinting my eyes for a closer look. 

 
“It’s me. Jo Kwon,” he spoke so quietly it was as though he was whispering, as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear him.

 

 

A strand of hair fell into my eyes, a tingling sensation running across my forehead as I shifted my weight forward. I did nothing but stare at him in disbelief, before recognizing those large eyes of his, eyes which were once so bright and optimistic, but were now nothing but dull and lifeless. The corners of his lips twitched as if he was trying his best to lift them up into a smile, something which was barely seen in this world that we now lived in. In a way, I felt as though he wasn’t the same person, he wasn’t Jo Kwon, without that familiar smile and glimmer in his eyes. It was as though that part of him had been left behind in China, and in South  Korean, he could only show those emotions which he had forced away behind his smiles.

 

“What are you doing here? I never expected to see you again,” My surprise was evident in my tone, a faint smile curving at my lips as I brushed my fingers over his face. Not much had changed in terms of his features and the feelings within me couldn’t be described: a mixture of happiness and wonder of finding an old friend.

 

 

I couldn’t help but have been glad to see him again, after however long it may have been. After Mei, it was nice, refreshing to see someone that I once knew, someone that I knew before the darkness had crept into my life. Someone who didn’t know this new side to me either. With him there, it almost felt as if I had the support to keep moving on.
 

“I joined the army after you left and they kidnapped me and brought me here as a prisoner around a month ago,” I vaguely remembered the trucks full of new prisoners that had driven in not long ago, at some point during Nichkhun’s absence. “ You don’t know how glad I am to see you again Victoria. I didn’t think I would ever see you again after you disappeared from China and I certainly didn’t expect to see you here.”

 
His words reminded me of the hasty departure of my family from China, and of how quickly we seemed to have left our lives there behind. The bucket grew heavier within my hands and I shifted it slightly within my grip to ease the weight pulling down on my shoulders as the cool breezes washed through the air around us and encompassed everything within it’s surroundings.
 

“My father moved us to North Korea,” I started after a few moments had passed, “And I managed to find myself in this prison camp the army set up. I’ve lost track of how long I’ve been here,” I replied, my exasperation evident as I inhaled his faint scent which hung on his clothes. 

 

 

I shifted the bucket it my hands once more as I slowly lowered it down to the ground,, my thoughts drifting back to the others who awaited me in the kitchen. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to leave him. Though I’d never developed romantic feelings for him, the mere fact that I had known him previously was enough to make me stay, worry running through my veins. There was no knowing if we would ever see each other again or if either of us would survive until morning, and that felt as if it was enough to convince me to stay and converse a while longer. 
 

The atmosphere around us grew awkward, my eyes switching from side to side as the words remained frozen in my breath, hesitant to be said. Jo Kwon drummed his fingers on his wrist, glancing downwards as if he was wearing a watch before shifting his eyes up to meet mine. I was well aware of the penalties for wasting time and not working, cautiously glaring at the soldiers who surrounded us. But they were occupied elsewhere, their feet thudding on the gravel as they paraded into the cabin which sat on the outskirts of where we were standing.

 
“Jia and Fei were extremely worried about your disappearance. They ran to me when you couldn’t be found and asked me countless times if I’d seen you or what I had done to you after the dance. I went to your house to look for you but it was deserted,” he explained, breaking the silence between us, and my heart felt nothing but more heavy. Hearing their names from someone else made me miss them, made me yearn for their company even more than it had before.

 

 

He immediately twisted his head to the side as another called out to him, gesturing for him to return to the small group occupied with one of the armies jobs.  A strained look of discomfort and disappointment came over his face as he sent a meek, apologetic smile in my direction. I nodded in understanding, knowing that there was nothing I could have done to make him stay with me any longer than he already had.


“It was great to see you again. Don’t forget about me, Victoria.”

 

“I won’t, Jo Kwon, I promise. I better get back to work. See you later,” I smiled, turning as I paced myself back to the kitchen, struggling under the weight of the bucket in my grip. Casting my eyes briefly upon him, I couldn’t help but feel scared and worried for him. He hadn’t been here for long enough to understand things, the way that the soldiers worked – there was a an innocence deep within him for he hadn’t experienced what the majority of us had. I didn’t want him to suffer in that way, his fragile heart couldn’t withstand it.


*****


Nichkhun’s hand was pressed against the window, staring out in to the distance as the weather outside cleared briefly. The sky was free from the onslaught of the clouds and storms, and the stars scattered across the dark landscape like pulsating diamonds in their absence. He seemed so unaware of what was occurring around him that I doubted if he knew that I had even arrived (his door had been unlocked when I entered), and when I found his reflection upon the glass, he just seemed so focused on the view in front of him. His face was devoid of all emotion, but his eyes, those dark, mesmerizing eyes of his were filled with something that I didn’t recognize. There was no infuriation or anger within them, none at all, but something I could only put down as pain. And that was something that I could only recognize within my own eyes. Raw pain.

 

 

He said something, something that I couldn’t interpret from looking at the movement of his lips as he seemed to fidget around in irritation, tugging on the sleeves of his shirt. He said something else, but his words were still so faint, they were lost within the air around us.

 

 I was hesitant to move any close towards him, frozen in my steps, never expecting to witness a man of the General’s calibre in his moment of pain. In a dark, sinister way I wanted to see him in that position. For all of the times he had brought pain and suffering to me.
 

My feet shuffled backwards until we were further apart, his features growing blurred until he was merely a silhouette. I was unaware of what lay behind me, drifting away until my body knocked against the cool wooden chest of drawers. The decanter of whiskey grew dangerously capable of falling off the edge, swaying from side to side and in a split-second, before it was able to be saved, smashed to the ground. Shards of glass scattered across the vinyl flooring of the room, jagged and rough, as the bitter liquid pooled around them.

His body unconsciously turned towards me, hurriedly wiping the tear from his face as his feet thudded on the ground. He grabbed my wrist in his firm grip, twisting my arm around my back as pain ran through my veins. Clenching my teeth together, I suppressed the scream within my pursed lips, holding my head down to avoid his fiery eyes as he pushed me back against the wall.

 
“For god’s sake! Do you always have to cause trouble around here?” Venom seeped from his dark orbs as he roared in anger. The pain flickered away before it disappeared completely.

 

 

He pressed himself against me until I could feel his warm breath against my skin, somewhat arousing various feelings within me. His eyes leisurely scanned over me, travelling over the features of my face until our eyes met, glaring audaciously into the others. 


“What did you see?” he asked, leaning his face closer as his voice entered my ears in a faint whisper. “Well, Victoria, are you going to answer me? Or are you going to play the silent game again?” His hand reached upwards, cupping my chin in his palm as he tilted my head up and forced my pursed lips open. He wiped the saliva from my bottom lip with the tip of his finger as he kept me frozen within his tight grip as my cheeks and jaw began to ache.  


“What are you talking about?” I tried to say, the words struggling out of my lips.

 

 

“Don’t around with me Victoria. I know you saw something.” His eyes were wide, demonized, and his face lit up in a way that I had never seen it do before, and for a brief moment, it was as though he had grown horns and we were standing in the midst of a burning fire.

 

 

“You know I can force it out of you…” He lifted his hand away from my face and traced his long fingers down the length of my body. I could feel the bumps, small and miniscule, prick up on my skin as the sweat gathered on my forehead and dripped down my face. “…if I have to.”

 

 

“I didn’t see anything Nichkhun.”

 

 

His fingers lingered upon my thighs, playing around with the fabric of the dress I was wearing. The atmosphere, the tension between us was suffocating me – I knew what he was capable of doing to me. I knew that he was capable of doing so much more than he already had. He frightened me. He frightened me to the extent that I feared him hurting me more than I feared death at this point.

 

 

“I know you’re lying to me,” He glanced down as he tightened his grip on my skirt and tugged the fabric upwards. My breath caught in my throat as I stood there trapped between him and the wall, hands forced behind my back, as his cold fingers tapped against my bare thighs.

 

 

 “You-you had your hand pressed against the window…” I started, gaining his attention as he peeled his eyes away from my legs and stared back into my eyes, “And you were saying something, but I didn’t hear anything.”

 

 

“Then why were you trying to get away?”

 

 

“Y-you seemed b-busy.”

 
“You can’t leave until I tell you to,” He snarled, digging his nails into my skin as if he was trying to tear through me. I winced, wanting to pull myself away from him as he dragged the sharpness of his cuticles across my skin like a blade. The red liquid dripped from the scars he had drawn and streamed down my pale leg. My breaths had stopped long ago.

 

 

“I thought I had taught you enough lessons for you to ing listen to me by now.”

 

 

 My head dropped down, eyes scanning the damage he had already caused. I didn’t know how I would cover the scars, how I would hide them from the prying eyes of the other prisoners. I didn’t know how I could possibly even explain them. People already asked questions and the rumours flooded around us. Visible scars would only add to the suspicions which already existed.

 

 

Nichkhun’s hand remained unmoving against my skin, the tips of his fingers smoothing against the fresh layer of blood while he stared into a world of emptiness. He didn’t say another word and in the silence of the room, I could hear each of his long breaths, the inhale and exhale of air from between his lips and wondered how he could remain so still. He didn’t seem like his usual haughty and easily-infuriated self and behind the darkness that masked over his eyes was some sort of uneasiness building inside of him.

 

 

Beneath the dim light of the room, where his sleeve cuffed around his wrist, I could see faint splodges of red seeping into the fabric. The crisp white fabric was becoming stained with the blood that I knew couldn’t have been mine all while he remained still, arm held up in that uncomfortable position as he stared through the ground beneath us. It was almost like he wasn’t even there.

 

 

“You’re…you’re bleeding,” I whispered the words from between my trembling lips. My own bleeding had ceased while his seemed to only be getting worse.

 

 

He looked up, turning his head slightly in my direction before scoffing under his breath. “Don’t you think I would know that?” He tore his hand from my skin before shoving me quickly to the ground and walking back towards the window, his back facing me.

 

 

I’d hit the ground enough times to have become used to the pain, so much so that I just felt numb sitting there as I examined the scars that he had caused, though to tell the truth, I could have cared less about my own scars at that moment. I was more curious to know what had happened to Nichkhun and though I couldn’t have said that I was in any way worried about him, part of me couldn’t understand how someone like him could have found himself in a situation so similar to mine, the blood spilling from his own body.

 

 

He turned to find me staring in the direction he had been standing in, face devoid of emotion with an underlying anger which never seemed to disappear. His sleeves had been rolled up, the blood wiped off with a thin cloth but the pale skin was still stained red. He walked towards me, clutching the cloth tightly before crouching down in front of me, the displeasure flickering through his eyes.

 

 

“You don’t mention this to anyone,” He reached upwards and grabbed a fistful of my hair, dark strands spilling out across my cheeks as he tightened his grip. “I can’t guarantee that you’ll still be alive.”

 

 

He gripped onto my hair with the wrist that had been dripping with blood just moments earlier, the pale skin still stained red and with the way he held it up, the slashes across his flesh were clearly visible, even beneath the bulb that hung precariously from the ceiling, crusted with blood and susceptible to infection . I struggled, however, to make sense of the black letters tattooed beneath them.

 

 

“Ve-ra,” I read, my words barely louder than being completely soundless.

 

 

“Don’t you ing dare say her name!” He yelled and before I knew it, he had both of his hands on my shoulders, shoving my back against the ground. I trembled beneath his grip as he shifted his weight above me, trapping my legs between his.

 

 

“Vera,” I whispered it once more, the name feeling strange against my lips.

 

 

He reached one of his hands back, brows furrowed and eyes widened, before pulling out his glimmering revolver, pressing the cool metal against my head. “You say it one more time and I’ll shoot you right now…your brain will be splattered all across this floor.”

 

 

I didn’t understand how merely saying the woman’s name caused for him to react in the way that he did. All that I could understand was that she was someone important to him, for him to have had her name tattoed upon his wrist – even if he had slit his wrist with a blade in an attempt to get rid of the blank ink permanent against his pale skin.

 

 

“She’s dead, isn’t she?” I asked. He said nothing, staring into the depths of the silence that surrounded us as if he was trying to ignore the question.

 

 

“Was she your girlfriend?”

 

 

Still silent.

 

 

“Sister?”

 

 

He didn’t say a single word.

 

 

“Mother?”

 

 

“I never had a mother,” He finally responded, the deepness of his voice breaking through the discomfort that sat between us. I could feel the slow rise and drop of his chest as he spoke, my body still trapped between him. “The woman who gave birth to me was nothing more than a filthy e.”

 

 

“e…”

 

 

“A , who had with any man who spent a bit of money on her,” He corrected, his eyes avoiding mine. “My father had an affair with her.”

 

 

“You were an illegitimate child…”

 

 

“She,” He lifted his wrist slightly, “was his wife, the only person who gave a damn about me.”

 

 

There we were, bodies resting against each other in the middle of his chambers, a broken decanter of whiskey spilled out on the floor alongside us. We were almost having a completely normal conversation – he was telling me things about his past, his family as if he was able to confide in me – something which you could only have done with a close friend. What I had to remember when he was telling me things was that he was still a General in the opposing army, the leader of the army’s camp for prisoners, where I was one of them, one of his prisoners.

 

 

For whatever reason, he was letting me in to the man behind those dark eyes.

 

 

“What about your father?”

 

 

“That bastard tried to return me to the woman who gave birth to me but she’d committed suicide by the time he found her. He was stuck with me.” He freed my arms, slowly shifting his weight off me until he was standing above me and looking down. I pulled my back off the ground. “He was never around and when he was, he spent more time with his ‘real’ son and looked at me like I was garbage.

 

 

I worked so hard to impress him but he never cared. I didn’t even get a nod of acknowledgment for all of my effort.” He brushed his fingers through the strands of his tousled raven locks, glancing at me as he came to an understanding of the situation he was in. He continued with his story, reliving every detail as though he was trying to come to terms with his past and with each word that he spoke, I could feel the pain within his voice.

 
“He joined the army with my elder brother when I was 13, in an overseas battle – they both died within a week of each other. He hated me right until the moment that he died.” I was so engrossed in his story that the fact he had changed position dumbfounded me, looking up to find him resting his hand against the wooden chest by the window. The anger and infuriation that was normally etched across his face was missing and I was met with nothing but blankness.


He paced the room, avoiding the shards of glass as a single drop of his blood cascaded to the ground, followed by another as they created a small pool. Nichkhun was unaware of this, staring out of the window to find oncoming darkness, overwhelmed by the thoughts running through his mind. The moon was visible in the distance, bestowing dim light upon the ground as stars pulsed among the clouds. He was a broken man, broken internally, cracked pieces of his puzzling heart scattered within him. 


“I was only 16 when I joined, posing as a 17 year old. They gave me the lowest of jobs, cleaning and polishing equipment until the vile stench of the cleanser absorbed into my skin,” his nose wrinkled as if it had filled his nose unpleasantly. “The head officers found me during a training session and due to the legacy of my father and brother, trained me up to where I am now. I can exert fear and pain and I have the power over everyone here – even you.” His eyes found mine within the darkness of the room while I sensed a hint of questioning in his tone,  a subtle unbelieving quality within the words of his speech. 

 
“So you took the job and now you’re here. You’re wealthy, you have power, everything you could want,” I replied, somehow questioning the hesitation and disbelief hidden in his answer, propping my head into the palm of my hand. Earlier feelings of nausea churned within me, urging out of my body as I continued to force them inside, ignored.


“You don’t understand what it’s like to hold a gun to someone’s head, watch as they plead for forgiveness before you’re forced to pull the trigger and experience a life go in your eyes, the immediate pain they suffer as they die. It…It’s like you’re killing a part of yourself as they die before you, like you’re losing a part of yourself with them,” he answered extemporaneously, our eyes meeting as I attentively followed each of his words. A shiver ran along my spine at the thought of death, earlier moments of the camp returning to my mind.
 

 

“But by now, I’ve killed enough people for it to not phase me anymore.”

 

 

I didn’t like the way that he said this, as if he thought by killing more people, their deaths didn’t matter anymore. Each person matters, no matter if he knew them or not, no matter how young or old they were. Each life holds the same value in front of God.

Nichkhun’s eyes switched to the clock solemnly ticking the seconds by as I lifted myself from the ground, brushing the dirt from my clothes. He heaved a low sigh, tearing the tie from his neck as he threw it unintentionally upon the whiskey sprayed across the ground. A shadow cast itself upon his face as the light above his head dimmed from the loss of a bulb, drumming his fingers on the chest consistently. 

 
“It’s quite late. You better go,” he ushered me out of the room as usual but remained by the door side as I travelled along the corridor to my cabin, my weight shifting from foot to foot, legs aching.


It wasn’t until then that I came to a realisation that it was the longest conversation we had held to that moment but I felt that I didn’t completely know the true Nichkhun behind the mask. It felt as if he had missed a significant detail out purposely from his story that I had no knowledge of. And I was only beginning to understand the enigma of a man that watched me. 


I was greeted with a sudden sensation of great pain in my head, drowsily blinking my eyes as my vision grew blurred. Frozen in my steps, I grasped onto the wall, nails scraping over the rough concrete as the pain was unbearable, fiery burning within my heart, the intense pressure spread across my body. Beads of perspiration ran down the length of my face, heavily panting as I struggled to breathe. I urged, wished to escape, struggling under the overwhelming weight pulling me to the ground, a strained cry echoing in the air, unsure if it was my own. And the light was slowly lost from my eyes.