The small mound of letters sat atop the coffee table, stacked and bound loosely with cotton thread. At its side sat a large envelope, the contents hidden within relatively bulky in comparison to the thin, white envelopes.

It had been some weeks since Kyungsoo had reclaimed possession of Jongin’s letters and returned to the familiar tiny home he once shared with his fiancé. Everything was still exactly how it was and Kyungsoo knew he was thankful to have a home to return to at all. With an elbow resting on the armrest of the worn, old couch, Kyungsoo eyed the letters carefully.

He wanted nothing more than to spend hours reading every single letter that Jongin had sent; to then spend days writing the longest of letters as a response and, of course, fabricating the most believable of lies – after all, he couldn’t just expect Jongin to accept his absence of responses in one great big letter of apology.

But in truth, Kyungsoo was afraid. Afraid of what he might see when he opened Jongin’s letters.  What if Jongin had found a new love in the Army? What if Jongin had been writing to tell Kyungsoo that he would never return home, happy with his new love and new life?

And so, Kyungsoo put off opening the letters for as long as he possibly could. For days, for weeks he would avoid the prospect of sitting down and reading what his fiancé had sent him. What Jongin got up to whilst in the army was his business and his alone.

The larger, bulky envelope was the newest addition to Kyungsoo’s collection of unopened letters. Each one seemed to burn a hole into his coffee table, each one loomed over his head – weighed him down until he could take it no longer. It was a strange feeling. Something that he had yearned for for so long; the very thing he had fought Sehun for – once in his possession, Kyungsoo couldn’t touch them.

With a scowl on his face, Kyungsoo leaned forward and untied the stack of letters, sifting through the pile until he found the oldest; it would be better to start from the beginning, he decided. That way, if he had even the slightest suspicion that Jongin had a new love interest, Kyungsoo could stop reading immediately and throw them all away.

Why dwell on the past? On what could have been?

Tucking his thumb under the lip of the envelope, Kyungsoo carefully pulled the two pieces of paper apart, a small, neatly folded letter fell into his lap. Scrawled across the thin paper was Jongin’s familiar scrawl.

My love, Kyungsoo, the letter read.

When you look upon a star, you are not the only one who can see it. For me, I wish it were you who could see; you who could find that one lone star. Because, if we both can see something hundreds of light years away, the distance between us doesn’t seem so far.

Love always,
Jongin

The pit of Kyungsoo’s stomach began to churn. Were they all like this? Were they all so honest, so truthful – so faithful? With a hesitant sigh, Kyungsoo carefully folded the piece of paper before reaching for another letter, and another, and another.

My dearest Kyungsoo,

The days grow longer, the nights are sleepless and seem to last forever. It has only been a few days since I last wrote to you, but I can’t help but wonder – has it reached you yet? I suppose that is just me being ridiculous, of course it hasn’t. I’m just all too eager to hear from you once more.

Although it hasn’t been long since I left, there isn’t a day that goes by when I don’t think about you. There isn’t a single sleepless night when your face, your smile does not occupy my mind. Sometimes I wonder whether it’d be better if I did not come at all, but just know that I want to fight – for you. To protect you.

Kyungsoo, I love you with all of my heart and will always continue to do so.

Jongin.

My love,

It’s been quite some time since I left and yet, I have not heard from you still. I hope that everything is okay and that you’re safe. I suppose it’s because of the horrors that I have witnessed during my short time here that makes me fear the worst when I don’t hear from you.

Perhaps that is just me overthinking and that it simply takes a few weeks for a letter to reach its destination. I hope that is the case.  I hope that when I do return, that you will be waiting to welcome me home with open arms, that everything will remain as it was before my departure. Please promise me that we shall always be together.

I cannot write any more for I have a lot of work to do.

All of my love,

Jongin.

My darling Kyungsoo,

Tonight was another sleepless night; I suppose the other soldiers have so much trouble falling asleep because they fear it. They fear of what is to come when they do sleep. The nightmares are so vivid, so real that it is enough to keep you awake for nights on end in fear of what you might see when you do succumb to the darkest part of your consciousness.

Last night, I dreamed you were taken from me. I dreamed that you were held in front of me and I watched as you were killed. You were crying out to me and I could do nothing to help you – I could only watch, unable to be by your side. I woke up crying, shaking.

Tonight, I dare not close my eyes for fear of revisiting the vivid horrors that haunted me last evening. And so, to stop myself from falling asleep, I entertain my thoughts with you, your smile, your happiness. At the very least, it is helping me through the night. Kyungsoo, I love you and I hope that I will be home soon.

Forever yours,
Jongin.

My Kyungsoo,

It has been weeks and I have yet to hear from you. Are you well? Is everything alright? There is not a day that goes by where I do not fear for your safety. I do not understand why you have not yet responded to my first letter.

Please tell me that you are okay. Please tell me that you are alive.

Jongin.

Love,

Even though you have not yet responded, I still find myself writing to you more and more often. Perhaps it is a way of taking my mind off everything that is happening here, or perhaps it is my way of hoping that at least one of my letters reaches you eventually.

We are being transferred in a few days to the front in which we are to secure the mountainside. I hope that I will be home soon enough as there isn’t a day that goes by where I do not think of you; of your laugh, your smile – of holding you in my arms once more.

Those days will come again, I am sure of it.

Yours,
Jongin.

Kyungsoo,

I do not know when I will be able to write again. We are leaving the barracks tomorrow morning to head towards our destination, and from then onwards, I will not be able to write any longer.

Hope you are well.
I will be home soon, I promise.

Jongin.

Folding the last letter carefully and placing atop the small pile of opened envelopes, Kyungsoo hesitated before slowly, he reached for the bulky envelope. His heart drummed loudly against his ribcage as though it were the wings of a bird, desperately trying to free itself. His hands shook, his stomach churning sickeningly.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Kyungsoo peeled back the lip of the envelope and peered inside; a letter, a journal and something at the very bottom of the package that he couldn’t quite make out. Instinctively, Kyungsoo’s hand dipped into the envelope to retrieve the notebook, a small smile tugging the corners of his lips upwards at the familiar sight.

Drawing in a sharp breath, Kyungsoo’s eyes scanned over the first entry, welcoming the hasty scrawl that decorated the page; Jongin’s unwavering, undying words of love and devotion.

Not a day goes by where I do not think of you. Kyungsoo, how are you coping by yourself? Are you eating enough? Even though I am here, hundreds of miles away, I still worry about you. If I was given the chance, I would gladly walk the entire way across the country to see you once more.

Never doubt that I love you. Not even for a second.

Jongin.

I suppose it is quite strange to fill the pages of my notebook with letters home; words to Kyungsoo that he will never read. Chanyeol suggested that, instead of writing to Kyungsoo, I write about my days, reflect upon my past and ponder my future.

At least that is a way to keep me sane.  I suppose thinking back over what Chanyeol said, he is right. Of course he is. And so, whatever pages that have not been torn out and sent to Kyungsoo will be for my innermost thoughts; things that will never see the light of day or be read by eyes that are not my own.

Goodnight for now,
Jongin.

Brave. What does it take to truly be considered brave? Is it to selflessly sacrifice yourself for your country and for all you have ever loved? If that is what brave means, then Jaehyun was truly brave. He was seventeen. A child. And yet, he’s gone – died to protect his country. That vision of him lying lifeless on a stretcher, his limbs blown off – it still haunts me.  

But perhaps that is not what brave is at all. Instead, maybe one is considered brave when they are so terrified of what is to come that they still stand and fight? Or that they do not fear death at all, like a true warrior?

Today, Lieutenant Joonmyeon called me brave. As much as I’d like to think that I am, I do not believe it. Lieutenant Joonmyeon must have only said that to try and keep my nerves at bay. I do not consider myself brave. In fact, I’m quite certain that I am the opposite. But, when I see my friends die and know that I am likely to suffer the same fate, I know that I have to try.

Goodnight,
Jongin.

I’ve often wondered whether it hurts to die. How long does it take? Is it as quick as falling asleep or does it take hours of trying to fight off the inevitable?  I asked Lieutenant Joonmyeon about that today and, to be perfectly honest, I was hoping that he would tell me what I wanted – that it would be immediate, painless.

Instead, I feel as though I have reminded him of the horrors he had faced in his past. Rather than answering my question, I feel as though I have reopened an old wound for the Lieutenant – something he does not wish to talk about. Has he been shot before? Has he looked upon death and survived?

He said that if I do make it home, I won’t ever be the same as I was before I was enlisted. I wonder what he means by that?

Until next time,
Jongin.

I felt nervous all this morning but did not know why. The mail was delivered and, as per usual, I readied myself for disappointment. There was nothing for me in that mail delivery. There never was. But today … Today was different.

I remember how amazed I was when I was handed a letter of my very own; a gift from Kyungsoo to remind me of our life together – of what I have to look forward to. All I could think to do when I held that envelope in my hands was cry. What happened some hours ago still replays so vividly in my mind were it happening again, and again, and again.

The last time I remember being this happy was when I asked Kyungsoo to marry me – and he said yes. A cassette. He had recorded himself for me – a poem, perhaps? A reading of a letter so that I can, at long last, hear his voice once more?

 It saddens me that we do not have a cassette player in our possession, however I suppose it just adds more to the mystery of what my Kyungsoo has said to me. Whatever the cassette said, I am certain that it would be far more beautiful to hear those words in person – to be able to hold my fiancé in my arms once more.

Hearing those sweet words in person would make it all the more worthwhile. It makes me even more determined to come home.

Sweet dreams,
Jongin.

A feint. A diversion. We all know the outcome of this. Death. Every last one of us. Does the death of a hundred men really mean so little to General Lee? Whilst I am certain that I will not be alive for much longer, I do not have anything to say – any final words or any regrets.

Chanyeol says that we fight for the ones we love, to make the country a better place so that they will be happy. I hope that one day, Kyungsoo forgives me for breaking my promise. I said that I will return, but I know that I won’t. Kyungsoo, please remember that everything I do, I do it for you.

Goodbye,
Jongin.

Kyungsoo’s eyes went wide. Flipping through the remainder of the notebook, he was met with blank pages; nothingness. His heart was in his throat, his body began to shake – there had to be something else in here. Why would Jongin send him this notebook if he himself had stated that it was not meant for anyone else’s eyes? What sort of sick joke was this?

That was when Kyungsoo saw it – a small glimmer of hope. Scrawled in the bottom corner of the last page of Jongin’s notebook were the words Kyungsoo, never doubt that I love you. Not even for a second.

And that was all.

Without thinking, Kyungsoo’s hand dipped into the envelope once more to retrieve the letter; it was much larger than the previous ones that Jongin had sent, and in a dusty brown rather than the crisp white of Jongin’s previous letters.

Kyungsoo closed his eyes as he unfolded the envelope. Please, he thought. Please be okay. Opening his eyes once more, Kyungsoo scanned the note, his heart giving a lurch at the unfamiliar handwriting.

 Dear Mr. Do,

On behalf of our officers and men in the Republic of Korea Armed Forces, I offer you our heartfelt sympathy upon the death of your fiancé, Private Kim Jongin, who was killed in action on October 15, 1950.

Kyungsoo was numb; the entire world felt as though it had shattered from underneath him. Every inch of his body began to shake violently as a low keening escaped his lips.

We have been able to gather a few possessions he had acquired during his time as a solider serving under the Republic of Korea Armed Forces, and it is with a heavy heart that we can send only these in his place. It is understood that your fiancé, Private Jongin perished during the Battle of Mountain Pass in the northern highlands.

Your fiancé’s death was reported two days after he passed away. Regrettably, it is suspected that he was alive for quite some time after he had been shot.

Please find enclosed in this envelope one notebook and one cassette; two of Private Jongin’s most treasured possessions. Lieutenant Joonmyeon informed us that your fiancé, up until his death, carried the two in his pocket, so that your words would always be close to his heart.  

Kyungsoo felt empty. He had lost everything that he had ever loved. Tipping the envelope upside down, he watched, frozen, as the small cassette fell into his lap, the small note he had written still fastened around the tape with an elastic band.

He felt his blood run cold; it was as though his heart might stop at any time. Tiny flecks of crimson splattered across the white plastic of the cassette and stained the small note. Jongin had died slowly, painfully. The very way he had feared. Jongin had died alone, his comrades already deceased, with nobody to comfort him, nobody to tell him they loved them and nobody to say goodbye.

I sincerely regret that this letter must bring great sorrow into your home and my deepest sympathy is with you in your bereavement.

Sincerely yours,
Kwon Jae Hwa

Major General
Republic of Korea Armed Forces