Minho gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to shout and scream just like his fellow believer to the side of him. The whip lashed just as hard, with the same amount of force against him as the others. It hurt. It hurt so much. It hurt as if he were a piece of salmon at the hands of a professional sushi chef, it hurt as if he were being cut up into many small pieces mercilessly.

 

After the officers had had their fun, he was released back into his cell. No one tended to their injuries, no matter the extent. It was either they survived with it, or they did not.

The cell was dark and smelly. The walls were all black. It was dark even in the daytime, even with the sun shining through that small pathetic excuse of a window. It cast nothing more than a small square of light on the harsh, concrete floor.

But he would bear with it. He had to.

He was going to see his crush, at their meeting place, that place where the fence stood.

That was an everyday event now. It was becoming more and more of a routine. Minho even found himself walking out to the yard even though he hadn't thought to. It was like a memory ingrained into his body, despite him having only met that girl just a mere while ago.

As per the norm, they stood and chat about how life was. The boy found his hate towards the ones who hated South Korea  diminishing slowly. His guard against this bluette was let down little by little every single time they met. It was impossible to hate her, she was the only one who had ever looked at him without that goddamn pitying and sympathetic look that one of her status gave to Rebels.

Suddenly, he caught sight of his own prisoner clothes. It consisted of a plain black shirt and shorts. They were ragged, dirty, and he remembered that he was probably not going to get the chance to shower that day. His face was probably dirty too. He looked across to the one opposite him who was currently speaking of her interest in gardening.

She was wearing that dress that he had seen her in on the day they first met. She hadn't bothered to take off that wide-rimmed hat today. Her face was clean, and pretty. Her clothes were clean too, and well-kept unlike his. Her feminine and polite mannerisms probably instilled into her by strict parents. It only showed how she was different from him, the prisoner within the fenced off grounds.

Their worlds were far apart. She was a norm in the society. He was a prisoner in the wretched buildings. Where she stood was way out of his reach. And where he stood…was way below someone like her…

As he watched her continue her innocent and cute rant about not ever being able to raise a cactus, he felt fear for the first time. Fear that she would one day realise that someone like him was not worth her time, that she would stop visiting him in favour of doing other normal things.

She flashed a smile at him, and he could not help but return one, something that he thought he had long forgotten to do. That smile made him feel that she would remember him even if that happened.

Having ended their little meeting of the day, he retreated back to the confines of his cell. He caught sight of a stack of paper that one of his previous cellmates had sneaked in, and a couple of pencils beside it. He smiled just a tiny bit at an idea that he had just gotten, one that he could use materialise these happy moments.

He could always hope, hope for the best.