Dear Hyukjae,

By the time you read this letter, I would be gone way too far to come back.

First of all, I will not apologize for what I have done, nor I will regret my decision to go this way. I know you will probably resent me because of this, but you asked me not to go and I would never be strong enough to leave if you asked me to stay. But I have to go. I want to.

What happened before between us is bitter. It saddened me that you thought it was your entire fault when it was never been your fault in the first place. It was me who failed you. I’m rightfully guilty to raise your hope about a perfect live with a man you can be proud of. I love you more than I can say, but loving you is not enough to make you proud. And for this reason, I decided that it was the time to stop being a coward and just go.  I leave with the memory of your lips on mine within the steps I take, and I believe I would be okay.

You might be crying this morning when you read this. I will not tell you not to but promise me that the following days within two years will be filled with your beautiful smile, with the thought of me fighting as hard as I can to get back to your warm embrace. Everything you gave me within these years is more than I could have asked for, more than I thought I deserve. I don’t know how I will say my gratitude, because there always been so much more of it than the simple words can contain.

When this war ends, you will wake up with me wrapping my arms around you like we always did. You can pretend that nothing is ever wrong, but I want you to look straight at me and know that I have fulfilled the highest dream I could think of. To know that the man before you is someone you can be proud of.

You know I hate the idea of not being able to come home but life is always been unpredictable. If I fall on my battle someday, keep it in your heart that I die loving you and only you. Please forget the mistakes I made and remember me only for my courage and love. Just in case.

You have to be happy for me, Hyukjae. I don’t want you to give up your life. I wish I was smart enough to write a longer letter because there is so much I want to say to you, but I was never good with words and the sun will rise soon. I have to go. I will fight every battle for you. Whenever you felt sad or lonely, remember that my heart is yours, always have been and will always be yours until my very last breath.

Yours forever,

Donghae.

***

Hyukjae woke up to the sound of his neighbor screaming.

His hand inched closer to the gun he kept under his pillow, even when knowing that there was no use fighting when the soldiers captured you. They said they would do an investigation about you first, whether you are guilty or not, whether you are an undercover or not, but none of the people those soldiers captured ever came back.

He lay still while listening to the man lived next door­ being dragged past his apartment. He called Hyukjae on the way, begging him for help but Hyukjae knew better. He heard nothing, he knew nothing, and the apartment next to his was never occupied.

It was nearly an hour later when he finally decided that it was safe enough to make a sound. His bed creaked loudly when he got up, being awfully loud in his quiet apartment. Hyukjae shrugged it off, going to his bathroom. What he called bathroom was a small rusty space with toilet and shower being squeezed in. Not much but compared to other people, it was luxurious.

His heart fell when he collected the letters being slipped from the creak on his door, and his expression turned into a scowl as he opened his fridge and found nothing to eat. He thought of skipping breakfast right before his stomach growled; reminding him that the last meal he ate was the tasteless sandwich last afternoon.

Hyukjae contemplated for a bit, then searching for his wallet.

He almost bumped into a tall man on his way out. “Sorry.” Hyukjae quickly apologized, wondering why the man stood in front of his door, of all the places. He couldn’t see the man’s face below his cap but caught the annoyed glance the man threw at him. “I’m so sorry, sir.” He added, trying not to roll his eyes because who told him to stand in front of his door anyway? He knew that guy—the one who seemed to move in recently and wandering around like a lost puppy.

The restaurant he went to—it was supposed to be one, since it served people food but it totally didn’t look like one—was nearly empty when he entered. There were less than ten people inside, including the familiar tall figure stood in front of the cashier.

“Hey.” Hyukjae approached him. “Minho?”

Choi Minho turned at him, looked a bit surprised. Hyukjae didn’t miss the dark circles around his eyes. “Hey hyung.”

“What are you doing here?” Hyukjae felt stupid to ask, since they were clearly in a restaurant. However there was something with the way Minho flinched slightly, face reddened in embarrassment.

“Um—”

“I’m sorry sir.” A woman came out from the door behind the cashier. Hyukjae recognized her as the owner’s wife. “We don’t have any leftovers we can give for free today.”

The following silence was so thick that Hyukjae wished he could disappear.

“I-it’s okay.” Minho stuttered, fist clenched tightly and his face couldn’t be any redder. “I’m sorry to bother—”

“What do you have today?” Hyukjae asked the cashier, cutting off the younger man. Minho made a weak attempt to leave but Hyukjae hold him still.

“We have some porridge, and a bit of canned fish. That’s all. Things are harder to get nowadays—”

“Give us two.” Hyukjae gave her a tight smile, then remembered about Taemin. “And wrap one.”

The woman gave him a look but wrote down his order. After she disappeared into the door, Hyukjae turned to Minho. The younger man had a mix expression of shame and disbelief.

“Eat with me.”

“What are you doing, hyung?” Minho hissed, still unable to meet Hyukjae’s eyes. “You don’t have to—”

“What are you doing, Minho?” Hyukjae repeated with a calmer tone. “You have a job.”

Minho didn’t answer.

Hyukjae pulled him towards the nearest table. “You’re even thinner than usual. Shut up and eat, okay?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“But why are begging her for food? You refused my help but begging strangers the same thing I offered you.” Hyukjae saw the hurt in Minho’s face and softened his tone. “What happened to you? You are the last person I expected to do such a thing.”

Minho took a long time to answer him. “I don’t mean to offend you. It’s just—” He forced a smile. “—Taemin kind of get sick and I’m just…really desperate.”

Hyukjae didn’t need to ask more. Taemin was sick and medicine was really expensive nowadays. It was no doubt that Minho would use all the money he had and probably it still wasn’t enough. He thought about the amount of money he had in his wallet and felt sick.

He remembered Minho’s father; the prideful yet funny man who was captured right in front of his sons. Hyukjae wasn’t there that day but he had heard people talked about how he refused to leave his sons alone since his wife already passed away and ended up being shot in front of his oldest son.

Minho was sixteen that time, young and confused. But just like his father; prideful. He took care of himself and Taemin in a way even Hyukjae didn’t know how. The young man in front of him was five years younger than him but more mature in a various ways.

He took some cash from his wallet, didn’t bothered to count it. Minho watched him shoved the money towards him and gave an amused laugh.

“I can’t pay it back.”

“You helped me cleaning my apartment back then.”

Minho observed the money in front of him, clearly didn’t know what to do. “It was long time ago.”

“I know.”

Minho didn’t move.

“We are in war.” Hyukjae spoke lowly that only Minho could hear him. “People say there is no pride in war.”

Hyukjae pretended that he didn’t see Minho’s eyes watered as he took the money, or the way his hand shook, or the way his voice sounded so small. “Thank you, hyung.”

None of them spoke again until the food came. The porridge was tasteless and the bits of fish were too salty. Hyukjae frowned, both at the taste and the fact that most people didn’t have enough money to buy the food he just despised.

“What are you doing recently?” Minho asked; his voice hesitant. Hyukjae coughed.

“Nothing much. Sleeping, reading, you know—business thing.”

“Oh.” Minho nodded. People did illegal business was normal these days, as long as you kept your mouth shut. “I met people asked around about you days ago. Did they manage to find you?”

“What?” Hyukjae nearly choked. “Who?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t get to talk with them. I thought they are people you worked with.”

Hyukjae’s mind was racing. He had lied about the business thing so Minho wouldn’t ask further. He didn’t remember having any contact with people who was stranger for him, let alone to make them came to his place. “Do you remember how they look like?”

“Nothing out of ordinary.” Minho glanced at him. “Wait, you’re not in trouble, right?”

Minho sounded so genuinely concerned that Hyukjae felt bad for lying. “No. Of course no. Probably they just wanted to make a deal with me. They must be. I haven’t been in contact with anyone lately.”

“Not even a lover?” Minho suddenly teased, lightening the atmosphere.

Hyukjae laughed. “I don’t have a lover as far as I can remember."

***

There used to be lift in Hyukjae’s apartment but it was broke down long time ago and no one bothered to repair it. Hyukjae didn’t mind. He liked taking his time climbing up the stairs to his room and thinking about nothing, letting his legs carried him to somewhere he knew. He liked the feeling of having a destination.

He stopped in front of his door, pulling out his keys from his pocket and unlocked his door. Then it happened.

“Don’t scream.” The hot breath on his ear was unmistakably real, as real as the gun pressed on his back threateningly. “This is a .22. Silenced. You try something stupid, no one hears you die. Understand?”

Hyukjae swallowed loudly, not daring to breath as absolute fear immobilized his whole body. His stomach clenched violently, bile rising in his throat. His mind revolved back to his neighbor, the one that got taken this morning. Oh God, he was going to puke, he was going to die alone, he was going to die without having a chance to—

The gun pressed harder. Whatever words Hyukjae tried to say caught up in his throat, resulting in a dry, heavy sob forced its way out his lips. He nodded jerkily, knees weak and ready to give out. Nights before he was lying on his own bed, wondering the worth of his life and now he was clutching on every small hope he could find to be let alive.

“Good boy.” The man said soothingly. His accent gave away a fact that he wasn’t one of the soldiers. “Let’s get inside, shall we?”

His hand shook too much that it was almost impossible to turn the handle, but he did finally. Hyukjae stood still for a millisecond, his terror-filled brain contemplated on unfinished survival plans before the man pushed him inside.

Who is he? What had he done wrong? What did the man want with him?

“Is he really him?” The man asked as soon as the door slammed close. Hyukjae blinked, thinking the man had addressed him but the sound of someone else moving made him thought otherwise. There are two of them.

“We can’t afford bringing a wrong person.” Sharp fingers gripped his jaw tightly, making Hyukjae yelped half in pain half in surprise. He was forced to turn his head and found himself staring face to face with a pair of familiar eyes.

Hyukjae stopped breathing. He was the man this morning—

“It’s really him.” The man said as he scanned over Hyukjae’s face. “We got him.”

His face was released, causing him to stumble back few steps. Shakily, Hyukjae looked up to his attackers. “I-I don’t….what…”

“Put him to sleep.” The familiar man said nonchalantly, ignoring Hyukjae’s failed attempt to speak. He looked at his watch and frowned. “We spent too much time…”

Hyukjae had no chance against the chloroform-smelled rag that being pressed onto his face.

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A/N : gah. dont look at me. i dont even know what i'm doing