Minho's dream was to become a doctor, not a soldier. He dreamed of saving people's lives not end them with guns and other weapons. But the world is ending, everyone's in conflict that cannot be resolved by a normal conversation, so war ensues. He became a medical soldier and believe him when he says that he did not fire his gun ever. He'll just go with his team as the medic officer and help those wounded comrades.

He didn't know what day or year he was in, it was just one day, something blew up and here he was, a medic soldier, fighting for his life to survive another day.

A gunshot woke him up from his trance, then a sharp scream from someone not far from where he was situated at the moment. He immediately ran to go directly to the direction of the voice in hopes to attend whoever that was, maybe that's one of his comrades.

But when he saw the man-no, barely a man but definitely not a boy, he was just a year or two years younger than him if his judgement is accurate enough, his face is covered with mud. What made Minho alert was the other guy's uniform, they were not comrades. That means, they're enemies.

The guy's panting hard, probably from the wound he got on his thigh. He pointed his gun towards the man, keeping his eyes and ears open if ever the man will pull a gun out and point at him too.

Minho heard a chuckle, he furrowed his eyebrows, this guy is crazy like he can still look smug even with his situation.

"Well, at least point an unlocked gun at me. How would you expect on killing me with that?" He said it cooly as if he's not wounded already. He had his back leaning on the tree while his wounded leg lie on the leafy ground helplessly.

Minho internally groaned for his stupid, stupid self. Well, yes, he didn't fire any gun and that includes his gun, it's always lock. He can't kill a person when his passion is to save them.

"So?" There was no other words to utter.

He expects for the other soldier to be smug again but instead he heard a groan in pain, Minho eyed his wound, that's not deep but he'll lost more blood if he'll be unattended for a couple more minutes.

"Don't bother, I'll die eventually, when- hmm-" The man hissed in pain when he tried to move his wounded leg.

"Don't move it, you'll loss more blood if you keep moving it."

"tss what's the point? I'll die anyway." The man murmured blandly. There's something in his eyes that Minho can distinguish as sadness, Minho doesn't know but there's a pang on his chest when seeing this man, his supposedly enemy, lying helplessly there. He has a deep hopeful eyes but there's sadness in them.

"What?"

Minho didn't know that he's already staring, he cleared up his mind, " it." He murmured as he put his gun back to its holster on his hip and  immediately got his medical supplies on the other pocket of his pants.

"What are you do- ugh-" Minho put pressure on the wound that cut the man's sentence off. The hand that was reflexively covering on Minho's arm was a bit cold.

"Hold still." Minho focused on cleaning the wound while the other is groaning in sting and pain.

"I'm Minho and I'm a medic. I was actually forced to become a soldier, I want to save lives. I have still some comrades not far away from here."

The guy huffed a breathe, "well, Minho the medic, thank you for this but I'd rather die than to be your slave for the rest of my life."

"You have such a strong will for an already weak man." Minho didn't spare him a look, he was about to cover the wound with a fresh cloth as he had done cleaning it.

Minho then tears open one of the sweet candies he still got in one of his pockets and force it to the man's mouth.

"It'll help regain your strength for a moment." 

"Why are you saving me? Aren't you supposed to do the opposite?"

"I told you, I was forced to become a soldier. I wanted to become a doctor before this catastrophy came. I save lives, I have been doing that for years now. I don't even know how to fire a gun."

"That's why you have a locked gun."

Minho nodded his head, he's now sitting flat on the ground, facing the other who seemed to feel shy. He rubbed off some mud on his face to the best of his ability, he thought of having at least an ounce of an impression to the other. Comrade or not, he's his savior and he's handsome and Seungmin shouldn't have these kind of thoughts when he's not sure if this handsome man will not really kill him at the end.

"I- Thank you for- for still saving me even if I'll die anyway...I'm Private Kim Seungmin. I was forced to be like this too but happened and here I am. I think I am the last of my comrades, someone from maybe your team shot me a while ago and I shot him dead but yeah- I can't be alive, I'd rather die than-"

"Who says about dying? I didn't tend you for nothing."

Seungmin scoffed, "as if you can do anything about it. You have still comrades around and I am just alone."

"Well, Private Kim, I think you'll just have to trust me then." One weak wink was delivered before he got Seungmin carried in his arm, bridal style.

 Minho saw one of his comrades' dead body on the way here, he just have to pull off his uniform and let Seungmin wear them instead to make it believe that he's one of them. No way  he'll be leaving this guy, who almost looked like a puppy, after tending him.

After all, he's a medic and it's his job to save lives, no matter which team they belong.