XXX

«We are getting reinforcements,» Hyejin tells her one night. Yongsun snaps her head up, nearly dropping her hologram-pad. She presses her lips into a thin line, pondering, looking around the make-shift infirmary incase any soldiers might still be awake.

«From where?» Yongsun whispers quietly, fearing that the military might send the already wounded soldiers out to the battlefield again. She tries to stay focused on Hyejin but her eyes drift to Moonbyul who is (thankfully) sleeping peacefully on a jacket, head propped up by Yongsun’s newly-washed coat. 

«The International Peace Committee… They say it’s time to put an end to this war,» Hyejin says, shrugging. Yongsun scoffs, put an end to: do they not realise that war can never be put an end to — it runs without fatigue, breathes fire from its throat, turns towns into ruins, bends the history that humans boast so fondly of out of shape.

Yongsun closes her eyes and tilts her head back, staring up at the starry sky. The Theory of Life has protected Yongsun her entire life: when her parents were sent off to the frontier, when Yongsun heard that they had died, when Yongsun herself was sent to the frontier. The pain, the hurt, the anger — the Theory of Life has been there for her and taught her how to move on, to view life as a series of passings, as moments without emotions because it is what one feels that will be one’s downfall. However, Yongsun can not help it: instead of hoping that the war will end, Yongsun hopes that tomorrow will be a beginning, the beginning. Thus she contradicts her theory.