September 12th, 2017

Things were rough. That was not really a surprise though. They had been rough ever since the first bombing. And now, the airstrikes are starting to die down.

Nari takes in a deep sigh while she ignores the distant sounds of occasional bombs in the far-off distance. The normalization of the sound had happened slowly, until like now, she barely notices them at all. It’s become akin to music, really.

It’s quite late at night, and the leaders of the group inside the shelter are chatting over a map, pointing to spots occasionally. The electricity is out again, so they’re talking over the light of a single flashlight because batteries are no longer easy to come by.

“Nari, do you have anything to add?” Hoseok pulls her out of her rather grim thoughts, and back to their even grimmer reality.

She blinks, straightens up a little, and then bites on the inside of her cheek, “We got some information from soldiers, right? Didn’t they give us a timeline about the last month and a half?”

An excursion from earlier, that had both Namjoon and Jungkook along with a lot of the newer people in the shelter, had managed to get the information from a South Korean soldier that had been helping to pass out aid. Apparently, the soldier had said he could give additional supplies if Namjoon could prove how many people were living in the shelter.

Without a word, Nari had handed over her phone that she had charged when the electricity had been on. It’s funny, but something so essential as a phone didn’t necessarily seem that important anymore. Coverage in their area was still extremely spotty after the bombings, and a lot of the time they didn’t have coverage at all, but it was something. 

“Most casualties in Seoul are from the north, although the initial airstrike was all over until the South Korean and international aid pushed them back,” Namjoon pauses, letting the fact that they were situated in southern Seoul show their privilege. “But several thousand died in the initial strike and continued to die until a sense of normalcy and pattern was established within the first week.”

Jungkook shakes his head, “Nari, whoever has been able to flee has fled. They fled as soon as possible. And apparently the northern parts of Seoul are not maneuverable by car thanks to the rubble in the streets.”

“Population of the northernmost neighborhoods?” Nari pushes, even though she knows that she doesn’t want to know the answer.

“I don’t have the details,” Namjoon looks a little down at that. “But I asked him about the slave trade.”

Nari’s head jerks up. Over the last week and a half, the two of them had been butting heads more and more over simple topics, but it had been fueled over the topic of the slave trade. Even though she had insisted that they had to do something, and almost half of the group inside the shelter agreed with her, the majority were more conservative and more focused on their own survival.

And now, Namjoon’s words are serving as an olive branch.

“I think this is the only soldier that would speak, and told us where to find him if we need to talk to him again.” He hands her a slip of paper, and Nari squints at the paper under the low light.

“Wait, can I see the map?”

She pulls the map closer, and then gestures at Jin to unfold one of the other maps they had of neighborhoods. Seocho is large, and she didn’t know the entire area by memory. However, she has a sinking feeling that she knows where it might be.

Jungkook is looking through the map with her, and he exhales, pointing to a spot, “I think it’s here.”

“Jungkook, that’s the National Library. Why wouldn’t he tell you that it’s at the National Library?” Nari frowns, peering closely.

“It’s probably not being used as a National Library,” Namjoon offers. “It’s probably a new government base. If it escaped the initial bombing and it’s in part of the safer part of Seoul, then it’s stable enough.”

That’s irritating, in Nari’s opinion. The National Library is huge, and the government base would have the ability to help surviving civilians, but didn’t spread that information. They had dug up a radio last week in the supplies that her brother had sent her before the initial bombing, and none of that information had been reported.

But instead of questioning it, Nari asks sharply, “What did the soldier say about the slave trade?”

Namjoon’s face falls a little, “He said that it wasn’t a slave trade.”

“What?!” Nari’s tone grows increasingly sharp. “Of course it’s a slave trade. These women are being subjugated—”

“It’s not a slave trade. Because now it’s qualifies as human trafficking. They’re not just taking women and a few men. They’re taking everyone.”

Namjoon’s words are shaky, and Nari would shoot back that he wasn’t nearly as shaken before, but she knows why. Because hearing a confirmation from someone associated with the government is a lot worse. It’s not that he didn’t want to believe it in the first place, but it feels so much more real now. He didn’t talk to the victims that were brought into the shelter that is starting to get crowded. Nari did.

“Children?” Nari pushes softly.

Namjoon doesn’t answer, and that itself is an answer. His shoulders are curling in, and his mouth is flat. Over the last month, Nari hadn’t been on the majority of the excursions, spending her time treating people, making sure that things are running smoothly, and that everyone in the shelter was carrying out their newly assigned jobs. Namjoon, on the other hand, had been on the majority of the excursions, and through his weary eyes, Nari could see the toll that it’s taking on him.

In essence, Namjoon is the representation of the entire shelter, and therefore the unofficial leader. And he takes that responsibility and burden very seriously. Something in him had aged, just as something in her had hardened.

“I—I think we should—”

Nari interrupts his words by turning to everyone else, “I’m sorry, but can you leave the two of us alone?”

She can tell that the others are taken aback, but they start to leave. Hoseok and Yoongi shoot her questioning looks before they turn on their heel, and she doesn’t speak until the door clicks shut.

The small meeting room is really the walk-in cooler that no longer has cooling in the kitchen that is attached to the ballroom that serves as the shelter. And it is somehow roomy enough to not only hold a few people and a small table, but Nari realizes that it’s disconcertingly quiet.

Over the last week and a half, the two of them had been arguing over what should be done. And now, when they’re alone and not in front of the inhabitants of the shelter, they are quiet.

“I know you want to fight it, and that’s a noble idea, but it’s better to keep the people in the shelter safe,” Namjoon insists.

“If you think