“What do you think about scars?”

“Shut up,” Soojin grinds out. The needle in her hand is shaking. It would be easy to blame the potholes in the road, but the vehicle is stationary and Soojin is outside kneeling for cover on the ground while gunfire pierces through the air around them.

“Soojin, let me-.”

The way Miyeon offers to help is sincere, but Soojin doesn’t care. She doesn't need help. She’s fine. She can do this.

“Knowing my luck, you’ll manage to amputate my leg Ramen. Go,” Shuhua shoos Miyeon away like she isn’t bleeding out into the dirt, “My Soo’s got this. Isn’t that right, Soo?”

Soojin doesn’t answer. Not because she can’t, but because she needs to focus. One breath in. One breath out. Steady hands. When Shuhua nearly passes out from the pain of the coagulant agent, Soojin doesn’t vomit despite the taste of bile in the back of .

Needle in. Needle out.

Just like the rat-tat-tat, the bleeding won’t stop.

“You know… I love you right?”

There isn’t a tear in her eyes because Soojin refuses to cry. Because this is just Shuhua, cheeky little Shuhua, and she’s always been this pale. Her lips maybe haven’t been this blue, but Soojin can fix that. 

“ love Shuhua, you’re fine!”

And maybe the words are more for her than Shuhua, but when she nods along anyways, grimacing in pain, Soojin wants to stab Shuhua with the needle and tell her to stay still. But that would be counterproductive so Soojin just sutures. Sutures like it’s the pass fail portion at the academy and not like Shuhua’s life probably -most definitely- depends on it.

“Cherry? Come in, Cherry.”

“What Soyeon?!” Soojin barks into the comms.

It isn’t like her to lose her cool, not in practice and not in the field. But then again, it isn’t like Shuhua to go and get herself shot either.

“We have the evac team coming. T-minus five.”

Five minutes isn’t soon enough.

Soojin wants to slap Shuhua, if only to keep her teetering on this side of consciousness.

“You hear that, stupid? Five minutes.” Despite the seething anger in her words, Soojin is delicate with her touch.

“Can I-” Shuhua winces, “-have a kiss?”

Because of course, blue lipped and dying, Shuhua wants a kiss.

“Don’t die and I’ll think about it,” Soojin promises like they’re talking about playing another round of billiards and not the game of Shuhua’s life. “I swear if you ing die, Shuhua, I will make sure the afterlife is miserable.”

When the evac team arrives, Shuhua is barely coherent. Soojin wants to board with them, but she knows it won’t make sense. Not when her gunfire could be the difference between the evac team safely retreating with Shuhua or getting caught in the mix. So Soojin stays; stays and unloads bullets in the direction of the fr