Yesterday I watched 71: Into the fire for the first time and after I watched this film  I couldn't get the image of Hyun's heartbreakingly beautiful and sad face out of my head. And my mind began to wonder what a scene shared between his character Jang-beom and Jiyong would be like if there was a scrawny, scared boy with big brown eyes under his command. And so before I fell asleep, I let my mind conjure this up out of thin air and I spent my free moments today writing it.

I guess you don't need to have seen the film to understand and read this except maybe the one simple fact that Seunghyun/Jang-beom is a student soldier who is made captain of the 71 student soldiers and is left with the hard task of leading them. I don't think there are any spoilers of the movie's plot in this but if you haven't seen the film and don't want to read it--that's fine ^^ but if you do read it and if anything is unclear please just ask. I know very little of war and more particularly this war so don't expect a masterpiece.

I have been trapped in my writer's block for weeks now and for some reason this idea just grabbed me and spilled onto the pages without too much struggle. So I hope it is good. And I didn't want to change his character, so in this one-shot Seunghyun is referred to as Jang-beom. This somehow grew to be four thousand words but I guess it's okay to just post it here instead of a seperate fic... I'm not sure... what do you guys think?

Your First...

It's quiet. Almost too quiet. During the night-time, even after they order lights-out and for the soldiers to shut up and sleep, there is always the constant hushed sounds of laughter bitten into their sleeves and whispered shouts across the cramped room. But tonight it seems either the boys are finally worn out to the point of exhaustion, no longer able to find the small trickles of sunshine left running through their veins to create the bubbling laughter that follows them each day, or the realisation of what is soon to become their terribly sad fates has hit home. Each life in that cramped abandoned classroom which has become their sanctuary in such a short amount of time, each life is precious. Each life is hanging in the balance of this war tearing their country apart and each life is far too short-lived to be sacrificed. But each life loves this country and their home more than anything—and that is reason enough alone to be able to hold their heads high with pride and courage in the face of their enemy.

As they always seem to do just before sleep pulls him in, Jang-beom's thoughts begin to travel down those dusty, dirt paths which lead him to his home and to the thoughts of his lonely mother, waiting, praying, hoping for her son's honourable return. His feet feel heavy—they always feel heavy, the burden of leading all of these boys-no, young men-weighs down heavily each time night descends. In the light of day, he must square his shoulders, clench his jaw and keep his back straight—he must keep himself alert and strong in front of his men. But at night, when they're all huddled up close to fight off the chill and sharing memories of mother's home cooked meals and soft beds, he can finally give a sigh of relief. Without those scared, searching eyes scanning over to him to look for the strength and courage and faith they need to make it through each day, Jang-beom can finally give in to weight pressing down on his shoulders and allow him to curl in on himself and the tight grip of fear squeezing against his throat.

He hasn't even made it into the safety of his private quarters—in truth it's just another empty, abandoned classroom right at the end of the hall-the one closest to the entrance to the school. Full of overturned chairs and tables shoved up against the windows. But it is his, and his alone, and where he can allow himself to cut open the wound over his chest and bleed onto the dirt-covered pages of his precious letters to home. His legs ache and his feet throb and his chest feels tighter than it should, but he drags his heavy boots each step further to the open doorway before he collapses onto the floor where his soldier's can see him, will see his weakness and his heartache.

When his feet lead him to his room, he vaguely notices that there is a young boy sitting down at his door, staring down at the dust collecting on the floor as his skinny fingers trace patterns into the dirt. Jang-beom thinks nothing of it because he is too weary to stop his feet from shifting him closer to his resting place and much too exhausted to scold the boy for keeping himself up instead of seeking rest like the others. But Jang-beom never makes it into his room alone this night, because just as he's about to step over the threshold, a gentle yet insistent hand grips onto his ankle in a loose grip and tugs on his pants. Jang-beom immediately freezes on the spot, his tired muscles instantly lifting at this interesting turn of events.

"Sir..." a soft, shaking voice calls out to him. And although the boy whispers under his breath, his desperate plea rings loud and clear and echoes in Jang-beom's ears.

Without giving any second thoughts to any of his movements or reactions to his young soldier, sitting alone at his door, Jang-beom leans down and hooks his arms under the boy's stick thin arms and eases him onto his feet. How on earth those skinny arms can even find the strength to lift a gun, Jang-beom will never understand. Once the boy is up on his feet again, his head drops even lower, and Jang-beom can't be too sure if the boy is only a head shorter than him or even shorter than that. But he's determined to find out. So he takes hold of a bony wrist, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from the boy and leads him into the room, closing the door quietly once they're inside. Once they are locked away from the prying eyes poking out through doorways or perked ears trying to eavesdrop on any conversations, Jang-beom feels his chest lighten and also notices the way the boy seems to feel a sense of relief to finally be away from his dirty spot waiting on the floor for his captain.

"What's your name?"

Jang-beom tries to ask him softly but the boy still shrinks back at the sound of his deep voice. He never knows whether his deep, gravelly voice is a gift or a burden since given the heavy task of leading this group of men. He notices a little too late that he never released his grip on the boy's wrist because he can feel the boy's hand begin to tremble under his touch.

"Kwon."

The boy whispers, head still bowed down to the floor and tiny voice muffled into his chest. Jang-beom feels a tight squeeze to his heart at the sight of the boy trembling before him, possibly trying to fight back tears if the waver in his voice is any clue to go by.

"Tell me your name—your first name."

Without thinking or knowing why he's doing what he's doing, Jang-beom brings the hand which isn't wrapped around the boy's bony wrist up under that chin pressed into his chest and as gently as he can, he coaxes the boy to lift his head. He isn't successful in getting the boy to look him in the eyes, but at least now he's not speaking to the floor. And Jang-beom can at least take in the details of his face, those wide brown eyes filled to the brim with sadness and a scared shine that Jang-beom recognises seeing amongst the crowd of faces. The boy is biting down on his bottom lip and Jang-beom remembers seeing that too—but he regrets that he can't recall the boy's name or anything he may know about him. He doesn't want this scared, shaking boy to just be a face he remembers trailing his eyes over in the crowd. He wants him to be remembered, he wants to taste his name on his lips and recall the sound of his laughter echoing in these empty rooms. Just when Jang-beom fears the boy is going to tear right through that thick bottom lip and drawn blood, those trembling lips open and give him the answer he was seeking—

"Ji—Ji Yong. My name is Kw-Kwon Ji Yong, sir."

"Ji Yong... is there something troubling you?"

Jang-beom's hand seems to move on its own accord as he tenderly rubs his thumb over the boy's round chin, brushing against his bottom lip which Ji Yong immediately into his mouth and clenches his eyes shut as Jang-beom's fingers tickle his cheek.

"I am sorry, sir." Ji Yong chokes back a sob. "I should not have disturbed you. I will leave."

The boy suddenly bows to him and moves to turn away but Jang-beom still keeps his grip on his wrist and stops him. Ji Yong looks at him questioningly, but Jang-beom simply gives his hand a light tug and pulls them both to sit on the ground. They sit in front of each other, in the direct line of the pale moonlight filtering through the dirt-grimed windows and try to find peace in the still, quiet night.

"What is the matter, Ji Yong?"

Jang-beom calls to him softly, taking both hands in his own and rests their linked hand over his knees. He freely admits to himself that he wouldn't normally show such compassion and care towards one of the boy's technically under his command. But thoughts of Captain Kang's kindness and affection towards him remind him how far a warm hand can go when faced with the dark future they're all marching towards. Especially when the scared and frightened face in front of him belongs to one so young and so innocent and so desperately in need of a friend.

"I..." The boy's body shakes and his hands try to squirm their way out of his grasp, but he's not planning on letting go any time soon. "I tried to scrub the blood off my hands but it... it won't come off." And for the first time the boy looks him in the eyes and Jang-beom instantly feels the air leave his lungs in a breathless rush. Jang-beom's eyes are entranced by the sight of large tears falling down from those deep brown eyes, as they track down his dirty cheeks and drip down from neck.  His eyes are slowly drawn back to those trembling pink lips as Ji Yong's timid voice calls out to him once more. "None of the other boys will look upon my face and I worry it's because there's blood all over it without me knowing. Is it, sir? Is my face covered in blood?"

In truth, there is no blood staining the soft skin on his face but the consequences of the blood shed on his hands is written all over the boy's face—you can see it in the shadows under his eyes and in the unnatural downwards pull of his lips. No, Jang-beom shakes his head and the boy looks instantly relieved, but the emptiness in those brown eyes—which Jang-beom knows should be as warm and inviting as the rich brown earth beneath their feet—is still a sight strong enough to break any man's heart.

"There isn't much blood on these hands either but I will help you clean up."

"Thank you, sir," Ji Yong closes his eyes and Jang-beom looks away to give him the privacy to control his tears.

Jang-beom busies himself with dabbing water onto a spare scrap of cloth to wipe away at the dirtied hands now resting on their own free will in his lap. The boy nibbles on his bottom lip again which for some unknown reason irritates him and he wishes Ji Yong would stop staring at him so earnestly. He carries out his task in comfortable silence and in reality, most of the blood is only transferred from Ji Yong's hands onto his own but he gladly takes on the burden of the thick red liquid if it means taking the pain away from this innocent boy sitting before him. Once the boy's hands are somewhat clean, Jang-beom wipes away the residual grime left behind on his own hands onto his trousers and even burns the bloodied rag for good measure. He keeps the oil lamp burning brightly in the room because it seems to take Ji Yong's mind off the present moment- or at least, that's what Jang-beom tells himself but not for the first time and he's sure won't be the last time tonight, the boy surprises him again with that soft voice.

"Truthfully, I do not even know whose blood this is." Ji Yong brings his knees up to his chest and lays his head down to stare at the glowing lamp. "I looked myself over for any wounds or cuts and could find none... but why do I still feel like the blood on my hands is my own?"

Jang-beom feels a stab to his heart and moves into action—he finds a new clean piece of cloth to douse in his precious clean water and shifts in front of Ji Yong's tearful face. He cups the boy's face in one hand and carefully wipes away all the tears and dirt and sorrow trapped in every pore and every line of the boy's face. It doesn't take long to clean Ji Yong of all his pain and when he can finally see those chubby cheeks beneath all the dirt, Jang-beom offers him a small smile in comfort.

"Do you think that I could call you hyung instead of sir?"

The request from those pouting lips was the last thing Jang-beom expected to hear being asked of him and it causes him to frown at the boy and retreat in shock. He regrets his reaction immediately when he notices the sorrowful look taking place in the boy's features once more.

"I am sorry, my request is too bold, forget I mentioned it."

Ji Yong stretches his legs out to stand and Jang-beom panics. He doesn't want to send the boy off without fully knowing whether he has done his duty as the boy's captain. The boy is counting on him and he will not let him down.

"I will allow you to call me hyung," Jang-beom's voice stops him. Ji Yong looks at him with hopeful eyes and Jang-beom feels his emotions catch in his throat. "I will allow it... if it makes you happy."

"It will! Oh it really will!" Ji Yong sits back down in front of him, causing their knees to knock and brush against each other in his over-excitment. And Jang-beom is amazed at the sight of Ji Yong's smile because he realises this is his first time seeing those pink gums and crooked teeth.

"Just be sure to only call my hyung in private. Do not say it in front of the others."

"Thank you... Hyung," Ji Yong whispers, face turning out to look at the moon through the windows as he smiles to himself.

"Why does it make you so happy?" Jang-beom enquires, intrigued by the boy's honest smile.

"Because I have never had a hyung before. Of course I have known boys older than me, but none whom I have been close enough to be allowed to call them my hyung."

"Surely back home you have friends who you can.?"

"I don't have any friends back home... I'm too quiet for friends." Ji Yong smiles at him again but this time there is a present sadness swimming in those brown eyes and Jang-beom can certainly relate to that lonely ache. "You are my first. I am glad it's you."

"Why me?"

"Because you have such a kind heart," Ji Yong places a shaking hand to rest upon Jang-beom's chest, those long fingers rubbing at the cloth protecting his vital organ.

"What do you know of my heart?" Jang-beom asks tearfully—how can this skinny, lonely boy know so much of his soul when he himself knows so little of what lies inside him.

"Everything," he prizes him with a small knowing smile, and his eyes shine up at him as though they really do look into the depths of his soul. "You are kind and have a true and loyal heart, Jang-beom hyung... I am glad you are my captain because I trust your heart to lead us."

"Thank you, Ji Yong. I am glad I can rightfully call you mine." Jang-beom feels the corner of his lips struggle to pull up into a smile for the first time in days. And it lights up his heart like the bright full moon cascading down into their cramped and empty room.

"May I?" Ji Yong gestures to Jang-beom's injured arm which, truth be told, he had forgotten about completely.

"It's fine." He dismisses the boy's request and shifts uneasily, causing another inch to appear between them, their knees no longer pressing together.

"My mother is a nurse and I know almost everything she knows. Please, Hyung... When was the last time you cleaned the wound?"

Jang-beom's silence is answer enough for Ji Yong and without verbal consent, he carefully unties the splint and peels back his bloodied sleeve to reveal the stitches piecing his skin back together.

"They're not ready to come out just yet but they need a good clean." Ji Yong's fingers are gentle in their inspection of the wound which Jang-beom doesn't even feel any pain from any more. "Do you trust me, hyung?" Ji Yong looks up at him through his dark lashes and in that moment Jang-beom realises he trusts this small boy with his life.

"Yes, I trust you, Ji Yong."

The one small saving grace of allowing the boy to attend to his wound is that Jang-beom is greeted with the adorable sight of Ji Yong biting down on his lip for an entirely different reason. He isn't nervous or unsure of his movements, in fact, the boy shines with determination and confidence as he skilfully cleans his wound and applies a fresh dressing. His wound wasn't causing him much grief before but now, he feels it healing itself as each second ticks by.

Jang-beom inspects the boy's handiwork with a pleased and proud smile. "How can I thank you, Ji Yong?"

"There is one thing," Ji Yong whispers, fiddling with the edges of Jang-beom's new dressing on his forearm.

"What is it?"

"I..." Ji Yong looks up at him and raises on to his knees to shuffle closer, until their faces are only inches apart. "I have never been kissed before, hyung. I don't want to die without ever being kissed."

Ji Yong's hands rest on Jang-beom's shoulders and as with every other decision he's made tonight, Jang-beom acts on instinct. Without giving it a second thought, he leans in to close the gap between their faces, his hand resting upon a chubby cheek as their lips meet in a warm, soft press that tastes sweeter and richer than anything Jang-beom has ever felt upon his mouth. They stay locked in each other's trap, breathing evenly as their kiss deepens and lengthens to grow into something as tender and sacred as a lover's confession and a sealed promise of forever.

The moment their lips are apart Ji Yong breaks into a blinding smile and dissolves into what can only be called the softest and sweetest laughter Jang-beom has ever had the privilege of hearing. And he is granted of his earlier wish of hearing the sound of the boy's laughter and commits it to his memory before the sound disappears.

"What's so funny?" he asks, curious as to the source of the boy's joy and laughter.

"Nothing, I just..." Ji Yong gives him a gummy smile before biting down on his lips once more, the smile leaving his face but not his eyes. "I somehow always knew my first kiss would be from a boy," he mumbles shyly, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks. Jang-beom only notices the slightly pinked cheeks because he took the time to wipe all the dirt and muck away. But who's to say the boy hadn't been blushing at him this whole time? "...But I was beginning to question whether I would ever find the perfect man who would be willing to kiss me."

Jang-beom nods in his understanding and hums in thought over what just took place in this dark room. He considers the level of importance of what these two boys just shared with each other—these two boys who are equally scared and lost and frightened and a long way from home. Jang-beom moves to lay down on his back, motioning for Ji Yong to do the same and that it is alright for the boy to lay down beside him. They're close enough that the back of their hands can brush and they can share the heat from their bodies with each other with having to suffocate each other.

Jang-beom turns his head to look at Ji Yong and he isn't surprised to see that the boy was already staring at him. Jang-beom brushing a finger against Ji Yong's open palm and whispers, "I thought I would never get the chance to kiss someone."

Ji Yong closes his eyes for a few moments and when they open again they're shining in the moonlight and Jang-beom feels his small hand sliding against his own. "Well I am glad that I could be your first."

"Do you want me to kiss you again?" Jang-beom asks a little nervously—maybe because he wants to feel the boy's soft lips again or maybe because he's afraid he'll never get the chance to feel that warmth again.

Ji Yong hums in thought as he considers it for a moment or two but eventually he whispers his answer. "No... If I am to die within the next few days then I want my perfect first kiss to be my only and my last kiss."

"...And if we both live through this... then can I kiss you again?" Jang-beom can feel the threat of tears and he tries his best not to give in to the fear rising up his throat.

Ji Yong nods, his own tears welling up but he bravely blinks them back for Jang-beom's sake and tightens his hold on his hand, squeezing with much more strength that Jang-beom ever gave him credit for. "I promise you will be the only boy I ever kiss, hyung."

For the first time in a long time, longer than he'd care to remember, Jang-beom slept peacefully throughout the night, not once waking up in a cold sweat or with the feeling of a crushing weight breaking down on his chest. For the entire night, he felt warmth spread through his body and reach down into the furthest depths of his soul. A soundless slumber fell upon his weary body, soothing his aching bones and easing his restless mind. He fell asleep to the rhythmic sounds of the young boy's steady breathes—calm and even, keeping in time with the slow pumping of his tired heart.

That night, he dreamt of a large, grassy field—the luscious greenery of flourishing life spreading out for as far as the eye could see. And his legs no longer felt heavy as he wandered aimlessly through the tall growth, his hands feeling along the soft blades as he waded through their unmarked trails. He felt calm and at peace in this place; a healing place. And in this moment, standing in the middle of his dreamy field, Jang-beom understood for the first time since he left his home that his life was following its written path—that in this life, we only control our choices but not where they lead us to. Jang-beom never had a say in where his life would lead him to, all he could do was wordlessly surrender to his fate. Only a fool would deny that his days were numbered and that one day was fast approaching—but as Jang-beom's feet carried him to the edge of a cool stream winding through his field and his eyes fell upon a now familiar figure perched on a rock right upon the riverbed, he could only feel peace at the thought that his time had come. He walked across the space in between him and the boy and came to sit beside him—that bright smile and those warm brown eyes lighting him up from the inside out, until he could feel the sunshine beating down on their happy faces.

Ji Yong held a hand out to him, and Jang-beom gratefully accepted it, their fingers linking their lives together as they stared out across the calm waters stretched out before them. The boy brought a dandelion flower up to his pink lips and with a shared smile, they blew the flower seeds into the rising winds and watched as they were carried up high into blinding blue skies above them.