Daehyun stumbled upon his way as the guard shoved him into the refuge. It was a massive, sturdy box, surrounded by thick cement in each sides, entrapping hundreds of evacuee inside. It might have been magnificent in its glory, but time and endless war had taken its toll on the masterpiece. The elaborated carvings on the wall was now a dull line. The lucid colour turned cinereous. And the concave long gone, throwing the burning sunlight directly to the cracked porcelain. The air smelled like dust and blood and tears.

He squeezed his way through the sea of people. Mother calling for her son, children crying of hunger. Hysteric screams and the more subtle sobs of those in loss. The noise was suffocating, and Daehyun feels like choking.

He finally found himself seated in the farthest end of the room, leaning back against the dusty wall. He was surrounded by people cuddling with their family, or lover, or just anyone. People wanted to feel the presence of others, the warm feeling of humanity close to their frigid soul. But Daehyun opt to be alone.

He gazed at his surroundings and the sight gave him a little pang. Many people were hurt. From just a simple graze to a deeper cut. Bruised and burnt skins. Kids and old people. He hoped he had his medical equipment in hand. It won’t help much but at least he would have something to do aside from sitting like a ragged doll.

 Daehyun cursed under his breath.

This is all because of those lunatic rebels.

Just less than a single day and he had lost everything he had. People lost everything they had. If the attack hadn’t happened, their family might be alive. They would be worrying about what to eat tomorrow, or how to survive the day. But they would have been alive.

His mother would have been alive.

He shook his head to drive away the thought. The memory of the life that slowly slipping away from her eyes was still vivid, as clear as the day. Daehyun was secretly hoping that this was some sort of a nightmare, and he would be waking up with his mother in his side. Serenading him lullaby. He buried his head on his knees, clenching his hand into a fist. He could feel the cold metal digging his palm. His mother’s ring, he thought bitterly. The last remnant of the beautiful woman he once had.

The conversation they had last night came back to him like a flash of lightning, jabbing and piercing his heart into pieces. Their last conversation, he recollected, and they had been fighting.

What was it about anyway?

The only thing he remembered was the pricking chilly night air, the exhaustion in his mother’s eyes, and his high-pitched screams filling their weather-beaten house.

“He is already long gone! Why bother?!” He shouted at the top of his lungs.

Ah, it was about my father.

The man whose blood run through his vein, and whose existence was nothing more than a myth to the 22 years old male until yesterday.

It was all about his father and his goddamn letter. Daehyun and his mother spent hours screaming to each other until they both fairly exhausted. He had just stormed off the door when he feel the earth beneath his feet shook.

When he looked back at his house, it was gone.

What happened next was like an old movie playing with slow motion. He dug the ruins with all his might, displaying the strength he never knew was there. He didn’t care about the raining missiles or the blaring explosions. His anxiety had taken its control.

“Mom, answer me!” He screamed into nothingness. “Mom!”

And then he saw the hand. The thin and small hand of her. The hand that had been there for him for years —patting his head, embracing him. He hurriedly dug deeper despite the countless scratch and his dripping blood. When he finally see her face, she was smiling weakly at him.

“M-mm-mom....” His voice was trembling, he hadn’t noticed the tears streaming down his cheek. “Mom....” He wanted to hold her tight, telling her it was okay, that she will survive the night. But he knows it best, it was already too late.

“Daehyun-ah....” Her voice barely a whisper. Daehyun wanted to say something –anything. But his voice seemed to disappear into the dust-filled air. “Daehyun-ah.....”

He held her hand tighter and forced his lips to turn into a smile.

“Y-your father....the....m-man....y-you....rebel....live on...”

“Mom... it’s okay, stop it!” Daehyun sobbed uncontrollably. The sound of explosions and people screaming seemed so far like it came from a faraway dream.

“Daehyun-ah....”

“Mom...”

“I....really....love you....”

And with that, the life disappeared from her eyes. Her small body limped in Daehyun tight embrace.

After that, it was a total blur for him. He recalled crying for so long until his neighbor dragged him along. He didn’t know how the ring had gotten into his hand. Where he had gone to and how he survived the explosions and feral gunshots. The only thing he was aware of is the pain in his chest. The hot, burning pain which seemed to claw the life out of him. He was breathless. And he kept running until someone seized him and brought him here. The only string attaching him to his senses was his mother’s voice ringing loudly in his head “...live on...live on...live on...”.

It felt like a chant.

A magic word which kept him from throwing himself into the bullet rain.

Daehyun let out a heavy sigh, his head hung low. He didn’t know for how long he had stayed like that, wrapped in his own solitude, refusing company. When he finally moved –to give some space to another evacuee, the twilight sky had gone purple.

It seemed like more and more people had come to the already-crowded place. The battle between the government guards and the rebel group had long ceased, but he can imagine how it was out there. Buildings collapsed and corpses laying helplessly as far as one can see. He didn’t even care if it was the guard or the rebels, but innocent people, innocent souls like his mother and many others were different cases. The rage boiled inside his chest when the thought hijacked his head.

He already had enough of this .

It was true that living in the dictatorial government was hell. It had been more than thirty years since The Sovereign party ruled Seoul. They had been cruel most of the times; taxes skyrocketing, land robbing, and a long list of inhuman regulation which only benefitted the higher-ups. But this rebellion is seriously another joke. Since the rebels had started the movement fifteen years ago, Daehyun saw nothing but death, and more death each day.

And the fact that his father was probably part of it didn’t help to redeem Daehyun’s rage.

His mother didn’t need to say anything, but the fact that he hardly saw him –only twice so far— and the keen determination she had about alienating Daehyun from any kind of movement had spoken for itself.

Daehyun inhaled the dusty air, smelling the thick scent of blood. He wanted to gag. “They are ridiculous.”

It was barely a whisper, but the evacuee who recently sat beside him seemed to hear it. The young man gave him a side glance and mouthed a curious, “Who?”

Daehyun didn’t see why he had to answer the question, but he was tempted to let out the lump in his throat. “The government...” He said, still looking straight ahead, “and the rebels. They’re all ridiculous.”

He knows it well enough that badmouthing the government in public is a crime. But in this kind of situation, he couldn’t see why people would care about such petty little insult.

“Funny,” the young man said with an amused tone, “so you’re in the grey area then? Not with the government OR the rebels...”

Daehyun shrugged nonchalantly. Many people were in the grey area –women, children, old people— they hate the government, but they don’t see any way out with the rebels. And so does Daehyun. “Why not? It’s not like the rebels give us any significant change, as far as I remember I can only see death.”

He glanced at the man, he was about the same age as Daehyun. His black hair visible under his hood. His skin was fair, different from Daehyun’s tanned one. He didn’t seem like someone who often went out or do labor work. His eyes, Daehyun observed, were brownish orbs containing a tingle of sadness. However, when the young man turned his head and looked at him in the eyes. The pair instantly became cold, and somehow, mocking. “Well, and I think those like you –ones who hide in the grey area— were a downright coward.”

He smirked an arrogant and triumphant smirk.

Daehyun hated this kind of person, those who thought they can start a fight with anybody at any given time.

“Well, it’s better to be a coward than becoming someone who kills in the name of justice –their own established justice,” Daehyun said with a tone of finality. He brought his gaze back into the crowd in front of him, and the young man did the same.

It was a good five minutes before someone broke the silence

“You must be living in such a peaceful place, don’t you?” For once, his tone wasn’t judging.

Daehyun nodded halfheartedly at the question. Sure, there’s no such thing as ‘peace’ in this little damaged-country. Every district is a messed-up place, barely apt for a living. They have to struggle each day just to actually eat something, or their family will die of starvation. Even if they survive the hunger there were still diseases and the lack of medical concern. Not to mention the hidden surprises like residual mines who can blow up your intestines any moment.

But at least District B –his hometown— was free from the civil war in these past fifteen years. The little offshore district, albeit the constant battle with hunger and extreme weather, was pretty much peaceful – until yesterday, of course.

“So, that’s why in the clash between the government vs. the rebels, it’s government 52% and the rebels 48%, am I right? The rebels are the badmen.” Daehyun disliked the calculation in that voice, why would the boy bother with his view, or lack of view, in the current political situation?

“Well, and WHAT are you?” Daehyun retorted back, annoyance evident in his voice.

“I’m not the man, that’s it.”

‘The Man’, Daehyun recalled, was the term used to address the one standing with the government. It was taken from the leader of The Sovereign Party itself, who was only known as ‘The Man’. It appeared that no one, not even the higher-ups in the government, fully known about the figure. He’s the key person behind the long run of the dictatorial era, yet no one seemed to know anything about him.

“And I can say it’s 100% rebels over the government because I’m pretty sure I’ve seen lots you haven’t.” Daehyun noticed that there’s no mock or arrogance in the statement, it was pure fact. And he hated it.

Daehyun was just about to throw some witty remarks when the refuge’s door suddenly opened with a loud bang, people gasped in unison.

“Doctor! Someone call the doctor!” The hall suddenly became deafening, people murmured something Daehyun couldn’t comprehend. Curious, he shifted from his position and stood to get a better view. The blood drained from his body when he saw what it was all about.

Blood, and wounded flesh. A lot of it.

“Doctor! Somebody!”

The guards didn’t seem to hear a thing, or they just simply didn’t care. They just stood there motionless, holding the gun with their straight face.

This won’t do, Daehyun thought to himself, they’ll bleed to death.

A hand caught his wrist when he was about to run to the scene, the owner eyed him suspiciously. “What are you doing?”

“I also know things you don’t.” He answered shortly and yanked his hand free from the grip. He failed to see the surprised expression in the young man face, and the amused beam that followed.

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There! The first chapter...

You know me, my pace is this slow.... hahahaha

Your comments will make my day... so... yeah :3