I turned to where the voice was coming from and blinked, listening.

                “What was that?” the guy’s friend added.  “Yeah, your situation .  Everyone and their brother is talking about what’s going on.  We’ve concluded that North Korea is not playing nice.  Bad, bad North Korea.  Have a nice day.”  The guy scoffed and shook his head, still staring at the news on the white board.

                “Well, what did we really expect?” a third person asked.  A young girl with glasses.  “What with Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, Libya, and all the crazy drug cartels in Mexico, there are probably no military units left to send here.  We just got added to the bottom of the list of things to do.  How long did it take for the Americans in Egypt to get out during all those protests and craziness a few months ago?”

                The first guy shrugged.  “I can’t remember.  I think they had to just wait it out.”

                There were no missiles in Egypt.  How could we wait this out?

                “How long before they bust into Seoul?” the girl wondered to no one in particular.

                No one in particular answered her.

                Seung Ri was gone for three days.  On the fourth night, I had yet to fall asleep when I heard a vehicle pull up to the school.  I sat up in my cot and peeked through the blinds.

                Soldiers were unloading.

                I crept out of bed and went to the doorway where I saw two sleepy US soldiers sitting post outside the classroom.  Hovering behind the one closest to the door, I touched his shoulder.  He straightened and pushed his hat farther back on his head.  He looked up at me.

                “What’s going on?” I whispered.

                “The ROK soldiers are back.  They are switching units again,” he answered quietly.  “Everything is alright.  You can go back to sleep.”

                I smiled in thanks.  “I have to go to the bathroom,” I lied.

                He nodded and sat back in his seat.

                Once around the corner, I hurried down the stairs to the first floor where the soldiers were entering the school.  Hiding in the darkness behind the stairs, I hoped no one would catch me.  I didn’t know how I’d explain this.

                The soldiers looked tired as they entered the school.  No one spoke.  Each one looked as though they’d seen a ghost.  They looked dirty.  It was like watching a scene out of a war movie.  I was having trouble processing what I was seeing.

                Most headed down to the basement.  I cowered deeper behind the staircase when I heard other Korean soldiers rush down the stairs to meet the returning soldiers.

                And then I saw him.  It was hard in the dark and with all the soldiers dressed the same with the same haircut, but I knew it was him.  Seung Ri.  He shuffled in and went directly to the stairs that led down to the basement.  I caught myself before I sprinted to follow him.

                I would be lying if I said, as childish as it was, that I wasn’t sad he didn’t go upstairs to look for me.

                As soldiers began to congregate and whisper together, soldiers coming and going.  I noticed another of his friends.  Luckily, somehow, I caught his eye and beckoned him over.

                He came over to the stairs and stood in front of me.  My eyes fixed on the blood smeared on his forehead.

                “Seung Hyun,” I whispered.  “You guys all made it back?”

                He shook his head.  “Half of the unit was killed in action.  We didn’t know what we were getting ourselves in to by going to that village.  We were supposed to help relocate civilians, but…”  His hands began to shake at his sides.

                “The five of you though…”

                He blinked and looked at me.  “The five of us are alive.”

                “Are you…alright, Seung Hyun?”  I didn’t feel the same for him as I did when I looked at Seung Ri, but it scared me a little.  When I first met him, he laughed and smiled.  He looked strong and stood tall.  He was slumped in front of me now.  Looking like he was trying to hold up a boulder with only his back.

                “I’m alive,” he whispered in reply.

                I nodded and tried to smile for him.

                “I never saw anyone get killed before.”

                “I’m sorry.”  It sounded lame, but I didn’t know what else to say.

                “Ji Yong got shot,” he said, his eyes tearing up.  “He was taken to a military hospital.”

                “Oh, my God, is he alright?” I gasped nervously.

                He touched his shoulder.  “The doctor said it was a flesh wound.  He’s being kept overnight to watch for infection.  We talked to him before we left.  We weren’t allowed to stay.  There wasn’t any room.”

                I felt myself sighing.  “Well, at least he’s going to be ok.”

                He nodded slowly.  “He’s coming back here after he’s released.”

                “That’s good.”  I wanted so badly to ask about Seung Ri, but I didn’t know how.  I watched Seung Hyun.  He looked exhausted, deflated.  “You should go rest.  I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stop you, I just wanted to know how you guys were.”

                He tried to smile.  “Seung Ri talked about you while we were there.  He wanted to see you, but…” his voice trailed off.

                “I was worried about him,” I murmured.  “I’m glad you guys are alright.”

                The look on his face said that he wasn’t.  Torn at glad to be alive, but almost ashamed that he was happy while others were dead.

                “I’m going to go…”  He pointed behind him to the stairs that led to the basement.

                “Yes!  Of course!”

                “I’m sorry, I just need to get cleaned up.  I’m tired.”

                I shook my head furiously.  “Please, don’t apologize.  Just go ahead.  Get some rest.  You’ll feel better if you get some rest.”

                “Goodnight,” he whispered.  I smiled and he left.

                Not caring if I was seen or not anymore, I darted out of the darkness of my hiding spot and bolted up the stairs.

                How could I sleep after that?  I couldn’t sleep before that.  I slipped into the classroom where my cot was long enough to grab Bamboo off my cot.  I raced up the stairs to the top floor where there were still some empty classrooms.  More and more were being filled up with cots and relocated Americans. 

                The classroom I always seemed to end up in was still empty.  I zipped to the window to stare out into the blackness.  It looked the same as before.  What was I expecting to see differently?  I listened intently for the explosions or gunfire.  After I counted four explosions, I ran into the corner and hugged my knees to my chest, Bamboo squished between my legs and my stomach.  Hands clasped in prayer, I rested my forehead against my thighs and closed my eyes.  I felt like I should pray, but I didn’t know what to say.

                I lifted my head after wracking my brain and coming up empty.

                A shiver of fear spread through me when I found myself face to face with Seung Ri.  He looked freshly showered in a clean uniform as he sat on his legs a few feet in front of me.  How long had I tried to pray?

                He looked disheartened, shoulders slumped.  The moonlight streaming in through the window exposed his puffy eyes.

                “S-Seung Ri,” I whispered.  His arms lay lifeless at his sides.  My yellow bracelet clutched in one hand.

                “Nikki,” he murmured.  He held up the fist with my bracelet and then let it fall back to his side.  “I’m back.”

                I nodded.  “I’m glad.”

                “Ji Yong got shot.”  His voice cracked.  Knocking Bamboo off my lap, he tumbled to the side and I slid closer to him so that our knees were touching.

                “Seung Hyun said it was just a flesh wound,” I mentioned.  “He’ll be fine.  He’ll be back here soon.”

                Seung Ri didn’t look at me.  He nodded.  “The doctor said he’ll be ok.”

                “He will be.”

                He placed my bracelet gently onto the floor next to him.  He held up his hands and stared at his palms.  “Park Cho Won,” he said.

                “Park…Cho Won?” I repeated.  He stayed silent.  I slowly, as though approaching a wild animal that might bolt in a split second, placed my hands over his.  With a start, he yanked his hands away, wide eyed, he pushed back from me.

                “Park Cho Won’s dead,” he continued, putting his hands back in front of his face and staring at them.

                “I-I’m sorry,” I said.

                “He was next to me.”  He turned his hands to look at the backs of them and then turned them back to stare at his palms again.  “He was right here.  I turned to reload.  I turned back and he’d been shot.”  I could see the tears glistening in his eyes.  My throat tightened.  His hands dropped to his lap, palms up.  “I held his head in my lap and he died.”

                I could feel my own eyes stinging with tears.

                “It took a minute.  He told me he was worried about his little sister and his mom.  His dad would be the only man in the family if he died.”  I sniffled and blinked as fast as I could, but a tear still fell.  “He said he was cold, but it wasn’t cold out.  I wasn’t cold.”  I assumed it was because the blood was oozing out of Cho Won’s body, but I wasn’t about to say anything.  “Blood came out of his mouth.”  He shook his head.  “I’d never seen anyone bleed like that before.  There was so much and it was all over.”

                I wiped at another tear rolling down my cheek and scooted closer to him.  “Seung Ri.”

                He held up his hands as soon as I was right in front of him again.  “Can you see his blood?  It was all over.  My hands were covered in it.”  He rubbed his palms against his pants on his thighs a few times before holding his hands up to my face.  “Can you see it?” he demanded.

                “There’s nothing on your hands now, Seung Ri,” I told him gently.  My hands began to shake as I watched his tremble.

                His eyes widened and he finally looked at me.  “Yes there is!  Park Cho Won’s blood is on my hands.  And those others.  Those-those North Korean soldiers.  Their blood is on my hands too.”  His voice was hoarse and sounded desperate, almost crazed.  “I killed them.  I shot them like that one shot Park Cho Won.”

                “It’s war, Seung Ri.  You had to do what you did.”

                “I watched them die.”

                “This isn’t your fault, Seung Ri.  If you hadn’t killed them, they would have killed you.  They would have killed someone else,” I explained.  I grabbed one of his hands and gripped it between my own, not letting him pull away.  “There’s nothing on your hands now.”

                He used his free hand for leverage as he tried to pull away from me.  He was weak, exhausted.  This was probably the only time I would ever be stronger than him.

                “I can’t…I can’t touch you.  I’m a murderer.  Let go.  Don’t come near me,” he begged. 

                “Seung Ri, stop.  Please stop.  Just calm down,” I said.  I tried to sound soothing, but I could feel the panic building up.

                He finally tore his hand away from me.  He began rubbing his palms over his thighs again.  “I can’t.  I can’t,” he muttered.

                The tears began to fall again.  I didn’t bother swiping at them.  “You’re scaring me,” I whispered.  He ran his hands over his short hair and then folded his arms behind his head.

                “I should scare you!” he hissed. “I killed people.”  He sat up and scrambled over to the wall where he sat facing it.  He pressed his hands, shoulder width apart, against the wall.  I inched my way over next to him.  “I’m a killer.  I’m ruthless.”

                “You’re not, Seung Ri.  Really, you aren’t,” I assured him.

                He turned his head and eyed me, hands sliding off the wall.  He turned and sat facing me now.  He reached out and cupped my face in his hands.  His thumbs down my cheeks.  “You’re sweet.  Everything about you is sweet.  You shouldn’t be here.”  I could only cry.  I covered one of his hands with my own.  I could feel him breaking down.  “It feels good to touch something soft,” he whispered still my cheeks.  As if someone had the life out of him, he let his weight fall against the wall.  His hands pulled away from me as he sat, cross legged, back to the wall.  Eyes staring straight again.  Blinking slowly.

                I tried to compose myself.  I wiped my face and sat next to him, shoulder to shoulder.  “You know,” I whispered after a moment.  I patted the shoulder closest to his.  “Here is a good place to cry if you need to.  I won’t even look at you,” I said using his line from before.

                I saw him shake his head out of the corner of my eye.  “Soldiers don’t cry.”

                “You’re not a soldier right now.  You’re just a nineteen year old.  It’s just you and me.  No one else is here.  It’s dark.  It’s just us.  You can cry.”

                He lowered his head to my shoulder, but was silent for what felt like forever.  At one point, he curled against my side, burying his face into my neck near my ear.  I felt him inhale deep.

                I would have never known he was even crying had his tears not rolled down my neck, soaking my shirt.  I held him close as his body racked with soundless sobs.