Minwoo munched emotionlessly on his cereal. He stared at the bowl of dried flakes in his bowl, dampened slightly by a sad puddle of milk. It was edible, but nothing compared to the meals he'd have at home with his family.

"Minwoo looks like he ate something bad," Hyesung said. The five of his friends all paused their breakfast to observe his face.

He wrinkled his features purposefully before gnawing the cereal in his mouth to bits. "I was just thinking about how nice it would be to sit at home to have a family meal," he said thoughtfully as he swallowed.

All of them fell silent. They all shot a longing gaze at the food on their trays, wishing that it were a bowl of rice and that it was sitting upon the wobbly table at their houses.

"Well, that just got really depressing," Eric mumbled, jabbing at his real breakfast with his chopsticks. What he would give to go back home and see his family again...

Minwoo mumbled an apology. He knew that no one at camp liked comparing the military to home - it gave them a throbbing desire to return to their families. That was, unfortunately, something that was impossible to happen until the war was over and they were discharged - and no one expected that to happen soon.

"Well," Junjin said to try and brighten the somber mood, "if you don't like the food, can you give it to us?"

"That's a good idea," Andy agreed. He promptly reached over with his chopsticks to snatch up the fried egg sitting on Minwoo's tray. Minwoo hurriedly moved his spoon and slapped it down on the egg before Andy could take it away.

"I was being reminiscent," he explained. "I never said that I wanted to starve."

Andy shot a quick look at Minwoo before tugging with his chopsticks. Minwoo retaliated by pressing the spoon down more. The two of them glared at one another, tension sparking between their eyes, as their friends observed in suspense.

Andy groaned and relented, withdrawing his hand. Satisfied, Minwoo removed his spoon and returned to his cereal bowl.

"Minwoo's right though," Hyesung said. He heaved a regretful sigh. He didn't exactly want to talk about it, but once in a while...he couldn't help it. "I want to go home to rice and kimchi."

"Mom's cooking," Eric agreed, and the rest of them pouted upon recalling all their meals at home. 

"This is like foreign food," Dongwan added. He scraped a spoon along the side of his shallow bowl, coming up with a spoonful of alien cereal. "Our bodies aren't made to digest this."

"Appreciate your meal."

Six heads turned to look upward from their spots on the grass to find a man with a lieutenant brand sewed to his shirt looking at them in disapproval.

"Father," Minwoo said.

His father curtly nodded his head at his son before saying, "I've heard that your 'foreign' food isn't even enjoyed by the 'foreign' soliders." When met with blank expressions, he expanded, "The American soldiers. I don't believe they have the luxury of meals like this. Appreciate that you're under the command of the Republic of Korea and go to training on full stomachs."

"Yes, Father," Minwoo mumbled, and his friends muttered their agreements. Hardly satisfied, his father headed away to observe the other groups as they ate. In comparison, the other soldiers were much quieter than Minwoo's group - but not much happier with their breakfasts.

"He's scary," Dongwan muttered as he left his spoon in the now empty bowl and picked up his chopsticks. He and Minwoo made eye contact. "Is that really your dad, Minwoo?"

Junjin chuckled. "Did you see his eyes? They're definitely related."

Minwoo practically snarled at him. Junjin shrugged innocently. "Are you really going to bring up the eyes again?" Minwoo very purposefully bulged his eyes open. "My eyes are perfectly normal."

"That looks painful," Eric commented.

Minwoo relaxed his facial muscles before telling him, "It is." He blinked multiple times to restore a normal feeling to his eyelids.

Dongwan reached over and rubbed Minwoo's cheeks right underneath his eyes. "Do you need a massage?" he asked, overly doting.

"Yes," Minwoo said, jutting out his lower lip. Dongwan smirked widely before grounding his thumb against Minwoo's skin to the point where it was surely painful.

"Oow!" Minwoo cried on cue, attempting to get out of Dongwan's reach while balancing his food tray. It was no easy task, and within moments the food slipped off his lap and splatted to the ground.

The six of them stared pitifully at the wasted meal and Minwoo immediately turned to Dongwan, grabbing his shoulders and lunging at him. "Look at what you've done!" Minwoo wailed. "My food..."

"I'm sorry!" Dongwan said, wincing in pain as Minwoo nearly crushed his arms in his frustrated grip. Dongwan gently shook himself away and stabbed the fried egg on his own plate with both chopsticks, cramming it into Minwoo's mouth. "There. There you go. We can share my breakfast."

Minwoo backed off from Dongwan, chewing and temporarily silenced. He glanced at the toppled food on the ground and groaned. Even more urgent than having spilled his food was a different issue.

He said, "My dad's going to come over here and kill -"

"Lee Minwoo."

Minwoo scrambled for cover behind Dongwan upon hearing the voice, fearfully looking over the other man's shoulder. Speak of the devil - as soon as he had mentioned it, his father had returned to make sure they weren't doing anything foolish. He was not pleased with what he found.

His eyes were flashing disapproval as they focused on the gory mess that was an upturned tray.

His father didn't say anything, and neither did his six underlings. All of them had paused all their movements, afraid that if they even budged a single muscle, it would light the fuse to an explosion. But it never came. Only a single sentence - and calmly spoken - exited his mouth:

"I hope you can make it through training on an empty stomach."

--

"We look like idiots."

Minwoo glanced ferociously across at Hyesung, who had whispered the comment. The man on the receiving end of the glare wasted no time in shutting his mouth. Minwoo silently admitted that they did appear ridiculous, but he was not willing to say it out loud and risk getting punished a second time within two days.

The six of them, along with all the other recruits, were suited up and holding guns - again. While the previous day had been for more disciplinary purposes, today they were receiving a strict training session on gun-handling.

It was hot today, and accompanying the humidity was a hollow feeling in Minwoo's stomach. Hunger. Although Dongwan had offered him his own breakfast, Minwoo only ate a little in the wake of his father's confrontation. Now he was regretting it.

The officer acting as their trainer raised his gun to eye level, hoisting the back end of it over his shoulder. Within one second, he had yanked on the trigger and a bullet crossed the tarnished field. It punctured the chest of a straw mannequin posted countless feet away, straw dislodging from their places and fluttering to the ground.

"This is what we're doing today," he said, shouldering the gun and turning around to face the trainees. "All those decoys lined up down there are for you to aim and shoot. Be careful, though." He smirked slightly, the corner of his lip lifting to reveal yellowed teeth. "If you cause a mishap this time, it might not be just a harmless mistake."

Minwoo swallowed, apprehensive about his gun skills. They'd done this kind of thing a couple of times before, but at such a close range that none of them could possibly miss. Now, with distance and hunger latching onto his back, he had no confidence on how well he could possibly do.

"Psst," Dongwan hissed in his ear. Minwoo nearly dropped his gun in his startled reaction.

"What?" Minwoo demanded, gripping onto the strap of his gun.

Dongwan only grinned until the corners of his eyes disappeared behind wrinkles. "Don't miss."

Minwoo sneered at him before prepping his firearm. Dongwan was such an idiot. The group of six all knew that Minwoo was terrible with large weapons - like this gun. It would be better for everyone if they were a little cautious about his concentration...otherwise they could end up with a bullet in their leg.

But to Minwoo, he was one of those people that merely needed to be diligent. In time, he'd be perfectly fine in handling firearms...hopefully.

Minwoo lifted the gun, moving his finger over the trigger and directing it toward one of the straw figures. Carefully....carefully...

He applied force to the trigger until it gave way under his touch. The blast reverberated next to his ear and the backfire sent him stumbling backwards. Unluckily for him, he wasn't able to stabilize himself and tripped on his own heel, tumbling straight down to the dusty ground with the gun landing on his chest.

His head whirled and his back immediately responded with bouts of aching pain. He wheezed out a cough. From faraway, he heard Dongwan laughing his heart out, but couldn't find him with his pupils as his vision went haywire.

"Are you okay?" Hyesung's panicked voice came from beside him. "Minwoo!"

"No," he gasped.

"Lee Minwoo," he heard the officer say. "Stay behind for extra target practice today. Lieutenant Lee told me to do this if something like this happened."

Minwoo would have whined if he had the breath to do so. Of course his father would give such orders. He knew his son would mess up somehow. Way to add more discontent to his already terrible training days.

"Yes, sir."

--

Minwoo sat on the ground, his legs crossed and the gun laid across his lap. He was alone in the training field, left to his own practice for shooting. 

He glared disdainfully at the weapon. "Are you happy now?" he said, as if the object was listening. "You earned me more torture. Because of that stupid backfire of yours."

The gun had nothing to console him with.

Minwoo gritted his teeth and crinkled his lips. He knew it was important to learn how to shoot. When he was out in combat, that was what he had to do. But that wouldn't change the fact that he just wasn't good at it. And somehow he had the feeling that time wouldn't do anything for him. He had spent the entire training session getting battered by backfires until his shoulder had gone numb. All the bullets he fired went astray. He nearly shot the officer - which earned him a hard clock across the skull.

"Are you sure you're being punished?"

Minwoo lifted his chin, looking up to the face of Dongwan. "I'm reflecting," he replied spitefully.

Dongwan slowly nodded, not believing it for a second. "Right. Do you need help or something?"

Minwoo's first thought was to reject him. But then he took it into consideration. Dongwan might have been a complete fool, but their whole group knew that he was one of the better shooters out of the six of them.

Minwoo closed a hand around the gun. "Teach me to use this baby," he said, holding the weapon up toward Dongwan as if it were a sacrifice. 

Dongwan chuckled before grasping Minwoo's arm and pulling him to his feet. He then made a twirling motion with his hand above Minwoo's head. "Turn around," he said.

Minwoo followed Dongwan's instructions and shuffled to face the distant straw targets. Dongwan's arms came around Minwoo's shoulders, grasping the gun and holding them in front of Minwoo. Minwoo lifted his hands and positioned them along the weapon.

"I don't see why you need help," Dongwan said. His voice came close to Minwoo's ear, and his nerves tickled in response. "It's not like you don't know how to hold it. Do you just at aiming?" 

"Shut up," Minwoo mumbled. "You saw me earlier. The backfire sent me flying."

Dongwan's fingers curled over Minwoo's, holding them firmly against the material of the weapon. "You're afraid to shoot."

It came out as a whisper, his hot breath drifting over Minwoo's skin. Minwoo blinked once before saying, "What do you mean?"

"You're afraid to hold the weapon. You do it correctly in the technical view; placing your fingers correctly; but you don't want actually to touch it so you barely do. That means that when you shoot, you lose your grip and the gun goes flying. Target doesn't get hit. You do."

Minwoo felt his muscles stiffen underneath the cloth of his shirt as Dongwan coolly pinpointed his flaws. "So, what?" Minwoo said. "Fix it, then."

Dongwan abruptly pulled the trigger with Minwoo's finger underneath his. The bullet went straight into the center of the target. Minwoo's ears rang.

"You know what you're doing," Dongwan said. "Just be sure of yourself."

He backed away from Minwoo, leaving the man alone with the gun still raised. Minwoo breathed in through his nostrils, the smell of metal and death on his nose. 

He took careful aim, taking part of his bottom lip between his teeth. 

Bang!

Minwoo's hand flinched at the last moment, directing the bullet completely off-track. Neither of them knew where it went, but certainly not near the target. He sighed, knowing that Dongwan's eyes were following and judging him.

Dongwan hesitantly said, "Never mind. It's not that you're afraid to shoot, is it? It's that you're afraid of what will happen when you do."

Chills trembled along Minwoo's veins as he processed the words. "What?"

"You haven't even realized it yourself? You don't want to shoot anyone. That's why you ." Dongwan huffed a single breath, as if tired. "Your father may be cramming your ears with that 'defend-the-country' lecture, but he sure never brainwashed you into killing people to do that; did he?"

Minwoo's fingers tightened around the gun. He suddenly threw it to the ground at his feet before tackling Dongwan into the dusty and barren field, practically growling.

"What are you saying?" Minwoo snapped, Dongwan trapped underneath him and his raised fist, his other hand grasping Dongwan's shirt by the collar. "That I have too many morals to shoot a gun correctly?"

Dongwan retaliated immediately, throwing his body forward and reversing their positions. "Why are you getting angry?" he demanded, incensed by the sudden aggressiveness Minwoo showed. "I'm only telling you what you already know."

"I'm a soldier!" Minwoo yelled. He struggled under Dongwan's grip, but the other recruit had pinned his wrists to the ground and had one knee planted to his chest to keep him down. "I can't not shoot a gun!"

"But you can do it! The problem is that you refuse to!" Dongwan yelled right back. Minwoo pushed his teeth together until it hurt. "Why can you do close-range practices correctly? Because you see the targets; you know they're fake. Why can't you do long-range practices correctly? Because you can't see them as fake anymore; you imagine them as human beings coming toward you; other draftees forced into fighting and you start wondering why you should have to shoot people that are just as unwilling as you. You can't find a reason, so your body does the missing for you."

He forced their faces inches from one another. Both of them were breathing heavily and setting their jaws; vehement beasts a single moment from leaping at each other's throats.

"And you miss," Dongwan said. "You miss, but they won't."

Minwoo's blood was boiling. Who was Dongwan to tell him all this? Not only was it taking a terrible toll on Minwoo's pride, but it was also a futile observation that wouldn't help him get anywhere.

"That's why I have to learn how to do it correctly!" he snapped. He tried to move his arms again, but Dongwan only applied more force to keep him still. "You think I want to die out there?"

"I'm telling you because that's what you have to accept before you change anything!" Dongwan gazed at Minwoo with a mixture of anger and sorrow. "Minwoo, you can stand there and shoot all you want. But until you start seeing the enemy as the enemy, you won't have a chance at surviving."

Dongwan removed himself from Minwoo, standing up and taking a few steps back. Minwoo only laid in the same spot and stared up at the dull sky. What if Dongwan was right? What if he didn't want to point a gun at someone?

What if that ended him in the battlefield?

He lifted his dirt-smothered hands and set the back of them against his closed eyes. It would be pathetic to die out there for such a reason. 

"You think you're the only one that doesn't want Lee Minwoo to die in combat?" Dongwan started. "What about the others? Me, too. We care about you. "

"You were the one who said it, though," Minwoo said. "I'm not mentally capable of it."

Dongwan stared at Minwoo's resigned form. This man was close to being an army's worst nightmare; someone who couldn't differentiate between humans. That kind of attitude was what could drive him to his end, and possibly endanger his own side - if he turned traitorous.

Dongwan shooed away that thought. Minwoo knew his duty better than any of the other recruits. The problem was rooted in his ability to carry it out. It wasn't something that couldn't be solved. Dongwan inhaled deeply before saying,

"Minwoo, I like you."

Minwoo laid in his spot, unmoving. For a moment, Dongwan wondered if his words were even heard when the other man jolted up into a sitting position, staring up at Dongwan's stern face. "More than a friend," he emphasized.

The oxygen in Minwoo's lungs jammed in his airways. Dongwan...liked him? That was impossible. They were friends. Friends.

But by the curvature of Dongwan's features, that wasn't what Dongwan was thinking.

"I don't mind if you don't feel the same way," Dongwan carried on. There was unprompted calmness written across his face, as opposed to the shock and awe on Minwoo's. "But I think you should think of it that way. To us...to me, who's worth more? You, or a pitiful soldier on the other side? You have to live for us, at least. And to do that, you have to wipe that mind of yours clear of sympathy for the northerners."

"You...like me?" Minwoo squeaked out. He barely caught the hostility crossing Dongwan's face before he found himself being whacked across the head for the second time that day.

"That's not the main point here!" Dongwan snapped, placing his face into Minwoo's view and grabbing his collar. Minwoo took in Dongwan's pinked face, which couldn't just be due to the weather. "Actually, no. It kind of is. But the important part is that if you die in battle because you didn't want to shoot a guy, I will personally drag you from hell and kill you for making me sad."

Minwoo nervously laughed. "But I'd already be dead so you couldn't kill me aga -"

Dongwan pushed Minwoo away, forcing him to collapse to the ground again. "Take some time and do some more reflecting down there!" Dongwan said. Minwoo tousled his own hair as he watched Dongwan storm away.

Dongwan had walked far towards camp, way out of sight of Minwoo, before he drooped to sit on his heels. He grasped at some of his hair. 

"Why did you tell him?" he mumbled to himself.