Disclaimer: I don’t own DotS.

A/N: Prepare for an angst-fest. Sorry. I have to tweak their characters a little bit because this story is supposed to be dark. Supposed to. Ehm.

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prologo: once upon a time.

The first time he met her, they were in the middle of a battlefield.

She stood tall in her white dress, torn and tainted with blood, her hair a tangled mess of black, unbound; and she was carrying a shovel in one hand, amidst the ashes and dirt and smoke and wrecked ground.

“You.” He heard one of his commanding officers spoke gruffly from in front of him. “Agassi!”

She didn’t respond to his lieutenant’s bellowing and remained unmoving in her spot.

“You are in the presence of the General. Move out of the way.”

And then she turned around, and he—

He was left speechless.

The young woman had regarded him with nothing but a tilt of her head and the coldest and most apathetic look he had ever seen marring someone’s face before. Her eyes didn’t even flicker when they met his – unblinking, with no slightest hint of fear, no recognition, nothing. She looked empty. Broken. Like a doll. And he felt a shiver ran down his spine when she showed her full profile to him and saw those bloodied lips of hers moved, her voice cutting through the howling wind, cutting through his conscience.

“I am in the middle of burying my comrades.”

And then finally, something glazed over those brown orbs.

Something he recognized.

Contempt.

“If you need something…”

Her gaze darted over to the sidelines and she turned her back to him once more.

“You can wait right there…“

He watched her, movements languid and effortless, as she made her way to the mountains of wounded and lifeless bodies—

“…General.”

—and realized he had fallen in love.

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one: (don’t) judge a book by its cover.

The next time he sees her, they are at the base camp near the border between their country and China and she is treating a patient with a nasty laceration on his leg.

He sees the way she cleans and stitches together the gaping wound – effortlessly and skillfully, not a single movement wasted.

He sees the way she gives the man the tiniest twitch of a smile.

Barely visible, but it is there.

Small, warm, and beautiful.

And it irks him, because he is not the one at the receiving end of said smile.

“Dr. Kang.”

Her shoulders tense in response, and Si Jin knows she recognizes his voice. His lips quirk upwards at the thought, because her recognizing him only by his voice proves that whether she likes it or not, his existence has been branded into her mind. That whether she likes it or not, his presence somehow affects her.

“I am injured.”

The pretty doctor puts down her surgical suture onto the aluminum bowl with a loud clank. She pats on the her patient’s hand to indicate that she’s done with him and sighs, turning around to face the general behind her with a forced smile. “I have other patients to attend to, General Yoo.” She stands up from her stool and peels off her gloves, throwing them into the nearest bin, but a hand grabs on her wrist and halts her from taking another step.

“It’s urgent.”

Mo Yeon fights the urge to roll her eyes at him. “General Yoo—“

“It’s okay,” she hears Dr. Song says, “I can take care of your remaining patients for you. You only have two of them left anyways, right? Go on.”

Mo Yeon blows at her bangs in annoyance before turning around on her heels again and approaches the grinning general with her eyes narrowed. “Follow me.”

The patient bed dips under his weight and he watches her tapping her fingers impatiently on her arm, raking her gaze all over him. “So. Show me where you’re hurt.”

Si Jin smirks and points at his heart.

Mo Yeon arches an eyebrow. “Something wrong with your chest?”

“No.” He quips, eyes glinting in amusement. “But there’s something wrong with my heart.”

The doctor seems oblivious to the underlying meaning of his sentence and lets out another sigh. “Fine. Take off your uniform. I’ll check your heartbeat for any irregularities—“

“No!” Si Jin quickly stops her as her hand reaches out to take a stethoscope. How can a doctor be so dense? He clears his throat. “I mean, well…”

“What is it?” She asks a little bit grudgingly.

“My heart…” Si Jin dramatically clutches at his shirt. “It’s beating too fast because of you.”

Mo Yeon can feel her eyebrows twitch. She almost punches him in the face – if not for the fact that he is a general and she certainly will not be able to live to tell the tale should she give the man in front of her swollen eyes. Is he playing with me? She rises from her seat, feeling her irritation towards the general skyrocketing. “If you’re joking then please excuse me—“

“Wait, no. Don’t go.” He catches her hand once more and brings her back to her chair. “I’m sorry. I...”

Okay, so sweet-talking doesn’t work. He has to come up with something believable to make her stay.

“…I broke a finger?”

Mo Yeon scoffs as she inspects his fingers. “They look perfectly fine to me. Which finger are you talking about—omo, michyeosseo!”

She watches with unmasked horror as Si Jin raps his fist against the wall. His knuckles are bleeding and she is sure that he has just broken more than one finger.

“There.” He flashes her a laidback grin as if he has just not hurt himself (Crazy. This man is crazy. She hisses in her mind) to turn his lie into a truth. “Now can you treat me?”

“You—“ Mo Yeon chews on her lips and glares at his bloodied hand as she presses alcohol-soaked cotton to his broken skin. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“Dr. Kang.” He peers at her. “Do you hate me?”

She freezes in the middle of procuring some bandages. “…Why?”

“You’re not supposed to answer a question with another question.”

Mo Yeon snorts. “Says who?”

“Me.” Si Jin knows she’s trying to avoid his inquiries but it makes him all the more curious. “Tell me. Why do you dislike me so much?”

He should have known that she is not easy to break. The young woman replies his question with another round of silence and listlessly wraps a bandage around his hand. After tying the last knot, she gathers all her surgical instruments and shoves them into her backpack. She stands up, and is about to walk away from him before he moves in front of her, blocking her from escaping.

“Dr. Kang.”

“It’s because you’re a soldier.”

Then she looks up at him and fixes him with a chilling glare. “Because you’re the General of the New Republic of Korea.”

She steps aside and passes by him, her stomach churning unpleasantly, her mind already replaying those horrible memories of the past, and she can feel bile rising up in .

Soldiers.

Three gunshots.

Three bullets to the neck, left lung, and forehead.

Five seconds.

Blood splattered across the white, white snow.

How easy it was to kill someone.

“Ye Hwa!”

Her words died in the sight of her dear friend lying lifelessly on the cold ground and she tried to crawl closer to her, but she saw the murderer’s figure casting his shadow over her body and then she heard his sneer. She screamed soundlessly when he purposely stepped on her outstretched arm and she could hear the resounding crack of her bone, feeling it crushed under his heels.   

“You should have known better than to trust a North Korean.” The soldier cackled. “It’s your own fault, traitor. You caused her death.”

No.

No.

This was all a dream.

A nightmare.

“You sick trash.” She spat out in disgust. “There’s no North Korean or South Korean. We are all one and the same!”

The soldier grabbed at her hair roughly and yanked her face close to him. She could smell cigarettes and cheap beer in his breath and Mo Yeon wanted to throw up.

“Do you really think the government would just stay still after what they have done last week at the Blue House?” He snarled beside her ear. “Those Kim Jong Un-follower, brainwashed idiots don’t deserve a place in our peaceful country. We have to eradicate them in order to bring our nation back to its previous glory.”

“Their rebellion is justified!” Mo Yeon cried out. “Are you blind to the unjust treatment our own people have been giving them? How they are deprived of education, of personal freedom, of human rights—“

“Silence!” He hit her head with the base of his pistol and she could feel blood trickling down from her temple.

The snowflakes were fluttering gently around her and she managed to see through her blurry vision that absolute, repulsed look on the soldier’s face, and she remembered his words, ringing in her ears before she succumbed to darkness:

The army shall make Korea great again, even if we have to shed blood and sacrifice lives along the way.

The army. Soldiers.

Her friends’ blood.

Her father’s blood.

Other people’s blood.

Blood, tears, death, blood, blood, blood—

Mo Yeon knows she is close to hyperventilating now.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

“Dr. Kang.”

A cool hand touches her arm. She flinches.

“Are you okay?”

He sounds genuinely concerned, but she is too tired and distressed at the moment to pay any attention to what he is saying so she brushes his hand off of her.

“General Yoo.” She breathes weakly. “Yoo Si Jin-ssi.”

He pauses at her mention of his full name.

“Leave me alone.”

And he watches as she trudges away from him, into the crowd of people moving about in front of their tent, and disappears from his sight.

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four: between a rock and a hard place.

He meets her again at a gala held by Hyundai.

He thinks she look stunning in that white strapless dress and her long black hair tumbling in soft waves behind her.

It reminds him of the time when he first met her.

But he knows he is not the only one competing for her attention in that ballroom.

The president’s son has approached her before he could, and Si Jin watches, silently, as the man asks her for a dance, to which she says yes, and places his on her waist. They move around the centre of the floor under the bright chandelier, and when she makes another twirl, her eyes catch his and Si Jin swears he sees them flickering in surprise. The music played by Seoul Philharmonic Orchestra comes to an end – Les Patineurs Valse Op. 183 – he personally thinks it’s too sweet to his liking, and then comes his favourite, Overture to Guillaume Tell, slow but seductive, and before he realizes it himself his feet have crossed the floor and he is now standing behind her.

It ticks him that the other man seems to be so greedy of her time and is about to ask the pretty doctor for another dance.

But Si Jin politely places his hand above hers, and musters the most charming smile that he could and direct it to the man.

“I’m sorry. I think it’s my turn to dance with Dr. Kang.” Then he tilts his head and asks her softly. “May I have this dance?”

Mo Yeon looks every bit calm and composed at the interruption – he thinks she even looks relieved there – and replies to his smile with a small one of her own. “Of course. I’m sorry, Han Suk Won-ssi. I have to decline your invitation.”

The president’s son narrows his eyes before he grumbles under his breath and walks away, displeasure evident by the way he hunches his back and hands jammed into his pockets. Mo Yeon snorts at the shamelessness displayed by the prideful man and fixes her attention to the other man currently taking a hold of her wrist.

She is a bit startled by the intensity in his eyes, and he suddenly pulls her closer, his hands placed respectfully behind her back, and the music crescendos around them, swallowing the gasp coming from . As the two of them dances, unlike before, the pretty doctor and the handsome general make such a beautiful sight that unbeknownst to the two of them, they have become the centre of attention of everybody in the room.

“How have you been, Dr. Kang?” Si Jin leans down to whisper beside her ear. “You look…exquisite tonight.”

Mo Yeon bites her lips and wills her heart to stay still. “…Thank you, General Yoo.” She skims over his appearance before looking away again. “You look handsome as well.”

Si Jin grins at her praise and twirls her around. “Really.” He tightens his grip on her fingers and intones lowly as their faces come close when he bends down. “However, I would prefer you call me by name like you did last time. My name is not General Yoo.”

“Yoo Si Jin-ssi, then.” Mo Yeon swallows the lump in . “I know. And I apologize.”

They are both back to their original position and Si Jin raises his brow. “For?”

Mo Yeon looks down at her feet. “For how I acted towards you back then.” She inclines her head. “It was very rude of me.”

Si Jin smiles at her. “Apology accepted.”

Just as the piece hits its last note and comes to a stop, he takes her hand gently and presses his lips on the back of her hand. “Thank you for the dance, Dr. Kang.” He watches with male satisfaction as tints of red begin to appear on her pale cheeks.

She hisses, pulling her hand away from his as if they are burned. “Y-you—!”

Mo Yeon grits her teeth and turns her back against him, not even bothering to bow after their dance ends.

The nerve. The audacity of that man.

He thinks he can play her around like some toy?

“Dr. Kang!”

She ignores his calls and walks – dashes – towards the balcony, cursing at him inside her mind for attracting the attention of other people in the room – not that she knows that even without Si Jin shouting at her they have unconsciously captured the attention of the audiences anyways. It’s not everyday that the philanderer general blatantly displays his interest in a woman, and it’s not everyday that the no-nonsense, always-professional head of the cardiothoracic department in Seoul National University Hospital has her composure broken.

To the people around them – who bathe in money and expensive clothing and gold watches every single day – watching the two is like watching a real-life drama, a source of entertainment. Mo Yeon knows that. And it makes her blood boil. She is not an object of their pleasure. She refuses to become one.

The moon hangs proudly amongst the countless twinkling stars of the dark night, and Mo Yeon pants as she continues running, her hair whipping against her cheeks and her heels pressing to the back of her feet painfully that she is sure they are going to form blisters later. She reaches an abandoned balcony at the other side of the building, and rests her forehead against the cool wall, her hand gripping at her dress and she feels her heartbeat calming down after a while.

“I didn’t think you can run this fast.”

Mo Yeon whips her head around and her eyes widen in surprise when she sees Si Jin stepping out from the darkness into the light. The pale moonlight falls upon his features softly, accentuating his cheekbones and high nose and sharp jaw and he looks so ethereal that for a second there her heart starts to beat faster again. She hates the way he takes slow steps towards her, like a predator cornering its prey. She hates this feeling.

And not too soon after, she can feel the thump of the wall against her back and knows she is definitely cornered. Trapped.

“What do you want?”

He stops some respectful distance away from her and tilts his head, half of his profile not shown so she can’t make out the entirety of his expression. But she knows he is far from being pleased.

“…I apologize if I offended you before.”

Mo Yeon clenches her fists. “It’s nothing. You didn’t offend me at all.” Lies.

He looks up and she can see the fire burning in his eyes. “Why do you hate me so much?”

“It’s none of your business.” She grits out.

Si Jin lets out a deep chuckle and she unconsciously shivers at the warning hidden in his amusement. He takes a big step towards her and pauses only when she can feel his breathing on the side of her face. “It is my business, if the woman I’m interested in seems to hate me with such a passion.” He observes the way she is frozen and he takes a loose strand, tucking it behind her ear. She slaps his hand away and looks up, glaring at him, only to be met with an amused twinkle in his eyes. “But perhaps…you don’t hate me.”

Mo Yeon seethes. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

Mo Yeon tenses again as he leans down to whisper lowly into her ear, the corner of his mouth tilts into a smirk. “You like me.”

“In what language does ‘hate’ translate to ‘like’?” She is about to step away but he blocks her again. “Move.”

“No. I would abide to your request if you truly hate me.” He puts both of his arms around her small figure, effectively caging her. “But I heard fr