A legless form flew through the shadows. Mere outlines of trees and withered roots guided its sprint into the woods. Focus. Adrenaline. Pure concentration. That was all that stood between escape and smashing into a hardened trunk, crumpled back on the ground, skull split down the middle. And so Ryeowook ran.

His footsteps changed from the crunch of broken pebbles to the softer thud of mulch. By the time he turned his ears away from his hammering heart and back to the outside world he could no longer hear the screams from his attackers. Or, should he say, his victims.

Ryeowook slowed down to a stop, bag thumping against his leg. He took a moment to breathe and adjust the knapsack. Stupid guard nearly ripped it off his arms.

No moon tonight. There was no moon any night. Dim lighting came from the reflection of city lights off the cloud, just enough so you’d know your eyes were open but not enough to show you anything you were seeing. Unless, of course, you were meant for the dark.

Now certain that no one was following him, Ryeowook jogged back to their shelter, gnarled tress guiding his way. He’d been gone longer than usual, and the last thing he wanted was to create worry. It wasn’t long before the flicker of candlelight and glass became visible.

“Hey,” Ryeowook whispered, sliding open the glass door to their metal shelter.

Despite his low voice, the boy on the floor startled, nearly putting out the tiny flame he’d been warming his hands on.

“Watch it,” Ryeowook said. “Don’t need you catching on fire tonight.”

Kyuhyun’s eyes crinkled into a smile. “Don’t worry. I’ve proven to be very fire-proof in the past.”

“And you still have the burns to show for it.”

The younger’s ineptitude with flames had been one of the reasons they’d switched to candles in place of wood-burning fires. That, and Kyu couldn’t stand the smoke.

Ryeowook slid the door closed again while gently setting his knapsack down. “Sorry, I’m late.”

“You should be; I’m starving.”

A sarcastic comment to anyone else, it was a good sign to Ryeowook. Kyuhyun’s appetite was fleeting but helpful when it appeared.   

“Here.” Ryeowook handed Kyuhyun a roll along with a small container of cheese, noodles, and something which resembled a pickle only greener. 

The other responded with a low whistle. “My hero.” And Ryeowook grinned.

Together, they started in on the first real dinner they’d had in weeks. Ryeowook practically moaned into the soft bread; it was liquid compared to the hardtack of the miners. The noodles were covered in a rich sauce of non-poisonous mushrooms and cream. The cheese was not spoiled. The green pickle tasted like fresh water. It was meal well-worth the wait.

Dinner was a delicate game of jostling elbows, avoiding the fire, and trying not to spill the little water they had. The sounds of eating bounced off the walls. Their shelter was a bit like a box made of glass and metal. Large windows made up the majority of it but the floor was steel along with the outer frame. Two bench-like structures were fixed to either side of the wall opposite the doors. Kyuhyun insisted it was a car but Ryeowook insisted it wasn’t because it didn’t have wheels. Either way, it had all the room of a large TV box.

Kyuhyun refused take off the cloth he wore over his mouth, even for eating. Instead, he’d break the food into bites and slip it under his mask. Ryeowook said it looked stupid. Kyuhyun said it was gentlemanly.

The candle had died down to its last flickers by the time they finished. Its wax pooled into the bottom of a new can, ready for a fresh wick.

Ryeowook watched as Kyuhyun carefully inserted the boiled twine. It seemed funny that he could be so good with candles yet so bad with fires. What was the word? Ironic?

“So what was the occasion?” His voice shook Ryeowook out of his thoughts.

“Huh?”

“The occasion. Why’d the miners get this feast tonight? Is it a holiday or something?”

Ryeowook shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Oh come one, you know all the holidays. Today’s,” he stopped to think, “July 7^th. What’s the occasion?”

Ryeowook simply shrugged again. “Nothing. I guess the bosses just eat like this every night.”

“What?!—Ow!” Kyuhyun jerked in surprise sending his hand directly into the candle flame. 

“Another burn for the fireproof man?” His comment earned him a glare from the younger. Ryeowook averted his eyes. “I thought I’d change plans tonight. It gets kind of old stealing from those poor workers, you know.”

“Workers, yeah. In school, we called them ‘slaves.’”  Kyuhyun eyed him carefully while his burned thumb. “Stealing from the rich instead of the poor though. Very impressive—and risky….You’re like a modern-day Robin Hood.”

“A what?”

“I’ll tell you the story later.”

Ryeowook let it go for now but he couldn’t help but feel that Kyuhyun had just made fun of him.

“Hey, that reminds me, look what I got you.” Ryeowook pulled a thin book out of his bag. Kyuhyun’s eyes widened. “I nabbed it with dinner. I thought you might like it.”

That was mostly true. Kyuhyun was the reason he’d taken the book, but it certainly wasn’t as easy as “nabbing” it. The feel of reaching for the prize only to find an arm around his throat, the air pressed out of his chest: it still lingered. But just the awestruck look on Kyuhyun’s face was enough to push that feeling aside. He accepted it eagerly.

“Wow,” he breathed. ‘“Unofficial Handbook to Obliterating Labor Unions and Outmaneuvering Collective Bargains’…Wow.”

“Is it a good book? What does that mean? Do you like it?” Ryeowook asked.

 “I, uh, have to read it first. But it sounds really interesting.” Kyuhyun’s eyes darted across the cover. “Wow. Thanks, Wookie.”

Ryeowook beamed. “You’re welcome. Read me some?”

“Uh, maybe tomorrow,” Kyuhyun said. “We have to leave in the morning, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” Disappoint laced his voice.

Kyuhyun reached over and ruffled his hair. “Aw, don’t be like that. I’ll read you all about collective bargains and obliteration tomorrow night.”

Now Ryeowook was sure Kyuhyun was making fun of him. He wanted to pout because that book, those stupid pieces of paper, had nearly cost him both their lives. Luckily, a night of sprinting and a full stomach were taking their toll and Ryeowook felt his eyelids begin to droop.

There wasn’t much room for the both of them, or even one of them, to lay down on, but they didn’t mind too much. Once they’d put the fire out, darkness overtook their room. Crumpled into little balls, they fell into a sleep.

Sometime during the night, either Kyuhyun or Ryeowook would find themselves snuggled against the other. For warmth or comfort, or just the reassurance the other was still there.

Tonight, it was Ryeowook who moved. And although he wanted to enjoy the steady breathing of the younger, his soft hair on his cheek, he couldn’t. Because tonight, as with most nights, the coughing had found them. Or more specifically, it’d found Kyuhyun.

It wasn’t harsh at first—it never was because Kyu would always try to hold it in—but he couldn’t hold it in forever, and the coughing would get harsher and harsher, and soon, Kyuhyun would be hacking away like someone was inside his chest, tearing his lungs apart. 

Ryeowook scrambled to hand him their water bottle, but Kyuhyun pushed it away.

He only coughed harder. Kyuhyun coughed into the air, into his arm, into the mask he refused to take off even when he slept.

And Ryeowook listened, helpless as always.