Ode to U

 

When you leave for war; you say goodbye to your family, wish your girlfriend a happy life and make empty promises of coming back. But you know there are little chances for you to return but you do it just to stop the tears falling down your mother’s cheeks. You leave your dreams behind for your dream becomes the assurance of your country’s safety.

Selfishness, pride, and greediness of a few had turned Koreans against each other. Speaking the same language and sharing the same culture weren’t enough to make peace between the two Korea.

Freed from Japan but enslaved yet again by different countries, hostility had been the solution chosen by North Korea. The two were fighting for a bit of soil, tearing families apart, breaking friendships and stomping on dreams and any kind of peaceful futures.

War broke out in the peninsula. Seoul was besieged by the North Koreans. And all men, old enough to hold a weapon, were enlisted in the South Korean army. It didn’t matter if you knew to hold a gun or not; you were needed to protect your country and give your life for the well-being of your people.

Jung Yunho, twenty years old, will always remember his mother’s tears-stricken face when the army came to take him. Yunho and his family lived in Busan, the only region untouched by North Koreans. That night, they were having dinner.

Around the table, the atmosphere was gloomy and silent. News of the war was everywhere and in everyone's mind. Going outside to buy groceries was difficult. Each time his mother went to the market, there was fewer and fewer food: vegetables, chicken and, fishes were disappearing bit by bit.

Seated around the table, his father finished saying the benedicites. They were going to eat the meager dinner when a knock on the door interrupted them.

His family had watched, helplessly, as he packed up his bag and left. His father was injured and his grandfather, too old. So Yunho had been the only man capable of taking weapons in hand and go to war. That night had ended his dream, not that there was much space for dreams in times of war.

There was no time for proper training for North Koreans were advancing and nibbling little by little the entire peninsula. The Americans were coming to help. But, sided by China for its soldiers and the Soviet Union for its flights, the North had a better organization. Hurriedly trained to hold a weapon and grossly taught to use it, he was ready for war.

Supposedly he was ready for war, but holding a gun doesn’t turn you into a soldier. However, South Korea’s army was outnumbered compared to the North. Thus in that moment, anyone holding a gun was considered as capable of fighting. Even if they weren’t for the truth showed it by the number of losses.

Yunho was one of those. Holding a gun, wearing a cask and a uniform didn’t make him a solider. But a fool, crazy enough to try to protect his country and his family at any cost. And young enough to run and jump over fallen nameless comrades or enemies. But not dumb enough to believe that there was a chance to come back alive.

Nameless comrades. Wars weren’t the right times to make friends, for you could risk losing them in a blink of an eye. Wars were moments for fighting and risking your own life for the sake of others. When one fell, there was someone else to take his place.

Being in a war meant fear plagues you every second, death poisoning every breath you take. Yet Yunho could only continue to fight and run even when a soldier would fall beside him. South Korean or North Korean, it didn’t matter anymore. They were all the same, South or North. At the end of the journey, they were still men fighting for a commune cause they had long forgotten.

At first, when days were still young, remembering the reason he was fighting for was clear; for the sake of his country.
However, when bodies stacked, days get longer and, the air smell of fire and broken hopes then, the reason became blurry. The only thing that mattered was to go further and stay alive.

Amid a battle, when bombs rained and almost rendered him deaf, Yunho tried to hold onto the only thing he could, his family. His mother, her home-welcoming smile, tore him from his nightmares full of explosions and broken cries. His sister, his brat of a sister who was always pulling jokes on him, kept him on his feet when he was too exhausted. His father gave him the strength needed to fire. His grandfather and his precious wisdom words prevented him from falling apart and becoming inhuman.

On days where the sun shone bright, the fight was relentless. Guns fired from everywhere. Yunho considered it a miracle he hadn’t gotten shot. Every time a bullet brushed past his arm or leg, he thanked God for keeping him alive. But in the middle of the battlefield where bodies piled up, sometimes you feel damned for you live with visions of horror.

The battlefield was a mess. He tried to forget the corpses around him. Every time he stumbled, he didn't look at the reason for his fall and got up quickly. The soil was tainted with their blood. Their screams still haunted the air. But Yunho had to go on and fire, killing yet another enemy. He didn’t have time to think that the enemy might have a family. Maybe he had killed a father and his children won't ever be able to see him because there was another enemy to kill at his right.

To kill.

To defend their country, people were ready to kill. But for a twenty years old boy, whose dream had been to become a singer, to kill had never crossed his mind. The first time Yunho had killed an enemy, he felt tearing apart because an enemy or not, life had been taken. It had left him feeling cold all over. But in times of war, no one had time to pounder and, blood keeps tarnishing your hands.

But all of this seemed to pay since they were advancing and getting back a bit of their land.

Nights were the worst because they stopped firing and watched what had been going on around them. Jaw tightened, he walked amongst the fallen ones to find a soldier crouched beside a body. Taking a look at the corpse, Yunho swallowed when he recognized a boy met on the way to the battlefield.

Kim Junsu was his name. Tears wouldn’t fall because he had only met him once before all the soldiers were sent to fight. But on that one meeting, Yunho had seen how joyful and lively Junsu was. Amongst all the gloomy expressions marring the other men, Junsu had been the only one supporting a radiant smile.

Yunho had despised him for there was nothing to be happy about, a war was going on then why was Kim Junsu smiling? He had wanted to ask but, another soldier had beat him to it. Shim Changmin. On that one trip from Busan to the battlefield, Yunho had learned that Shim Changmin was a sarcastic boy with a witty tongue.

Changmin had sneered at Junsu and asked, his tone cutting, what was he happy about? Junsu, his smile on, had calmly responded that his parents always told him he was incompetent but, now he was finally going to prove them wrong and save the country.

Changmin had rolled his eyes. Then he had said that they were all going to get killed and, there was nothing to be proud about getting their asses shot. Everyone around them had stiffened at the prospect of getting killed but, Yunho had chuckled. Why? He didn’t know. Maybe because of the way Changmin said the brutal truth, with his bored tone, or Junsu’s innocence or maybe because he was too desperate but, crying wasn’t his option. So, laughing about it was better.

The soldier closed Junsu’s eyes and stood up. Yunho recognized Shim Changmin. When he saw the tears falling down the latter’s cheeks, he could only think that this war was a huge mess. Changmin promised to Junsu that he would find his parents and tell them he wasn’t an incapable but, a hero who died to save the country.

After a last glance, then, Yunho and Changmin were back searching for soldiers who might have survived. They found one going by the name of Park Yoochun. The latter had a broken leg. Yunho helped him by placing his arm around his middle and, the three went back to their side of the war.

Inside trenches, hidden by the enemy, each side patched up their injured ones. The injuries could go from a simple scratch along the arm to a bullet lodged on the leg and, some injuries would result in imputation. Yoochun was lucky enough; his wound wasn't deep and only needed to be plastered.

Yunho looked around him and felt sick at the sight of a soldier whose side of the face was burnt. Another one had an arm cut and so much worse. The air smelled of death and burnt flesh. He needed to get out of there. He took a walk along the trenches.

He went on for an hour and then fell against a wall. He didn’t care about his clothes getting dirtier as he slid along the muddy wall until he was crouching down. He took his head between his hands and closed his eyes. He could only see mutilated bodies and he couldn’t stop thinking that everything was a mess. This was a mess. This was a mess. This was a mess, he repeated. Then, he threw up. Finally, he cried because no one should have to see such things. Also because it was unfair that they had to die just because some won’t accept peace.

Suddenly, he missed his family and particularly his grandfather. The latter had always told him that no reason was great enough to have blood shed for it. Yunho jolted when he heard footseps beside him. Immediately his mind was on alert. What if it was an enemy? He stood up in a second.

“Wh-who's here?” stuttered YunHo.

What an idiot! He cursed, he shouldn't have talked. Maybe if it was an enemy, the latter hadn't even seen Yunho before he talked. He had to be careful, he had indicated his position. Idiot!

He looked around him, his eyes searching in the dark.

He heard another noise that came from the opposite side of the trench he came from. He sprinted to the noise and came to a turn. He saw a figure running away. He followed after. The moon illuminated the trench and his heart skipped a beat at the North Korean's uniform.

Soon he was catching the enemy and pushing him against the wall, his face against it.

“Don't move or do anything stupid or I'll kill you, threatened Yunho.

The soldier was shorter than him. He wasn't armed. When Yunho pushed him harsher against the muddy surface, the soldier nodded.

— What are you doing in this side? You wish to die?

The latter shook his head.

— Then why are you here? You're spying on us?

Once again, the latter shook his head. Yunho pushed him more. He had to get an answer and show he was the strongest between them.

— Talk! What are you doing here?

No answer.

— You're going to turn slowly but I warn you, if you try anything, you're dead.”

Yunho released his grip on him a little and let the soldier turn toward him.

The boy stood right where he was, unmoving. They stared at each other. YunHo knew he must leave and warn the others about that boy.

After a moment, the boy took a hesitant step forward.

“Stay where you are! warned YunHo and the latter stopped, clearly startled.

His eyes widened even more as he stared at Yunho. He could see unshed tears but, he stood on his guard. They were in a war and, Yunho couldn’t risk his life because of a boy’s tears. He didn’t know who he was and the boy won’t answer him. Maybe—

— Are you Korean? he asked because the boy could be a Chinese soldier sent to help the North but the boy didn’t say a world. Do you understand Korean?”

This time, the boy slowly nodded before another silence took upon them; none of them sure of what they should do. Also, Yunho was getting nervous and he was tired; he couldn’t sleep these past days. The sounds of explosions and firing guns were still buzzing in his ears. When he closed his eyes, their sounds only increased. They would plague him in his nightmares.

“What’s your name?” he tried, not because he really wanted to know but because his feet won’t take him back to the hurriedly made up camp of the night. And also, because he wasn't sure it would be a good idea to turn his back on a potential enemy and get stabbed.

He stared at the boy. Maybe he was a mute.

“Can you talk?”

The boy nodded but didn't let out a sound, not even a whisper.

“Okay then I’ll tell you mine first. My name is Jung Yunho.”

He waited for a response.

“I won’t hurt you” he promised.

After a moment of hesitation, the young boy approached him and revealed his entire figure. Yunho's breathe caught because the other boy was the enemy. He wore the uniform of the North. Right now, he didn’t think he would keep his promise. All of sudden, Yunho felt his body go cold because he was very well aware that he hadn't his gun with him. But then, he stared at the boy.

He was shaking all over and dressed in a uniform too big for his lithe body. His trousers were too long. His helmet seemed huge for his head as it tilted to one side of his face. Tears had drawn trails from his pale cheeks down to his pink pale lips. Yunho could see the fear in those boy’s wide eyes.

On this cold night, where stars were mockingly brighter and warmer than any other night, Jung Yunho could not see an enemy in that boy. But only a lost and broken human, just like he was. He could only see another victim of the war, someone not supposed to see such atrocities.

He sighed deeply.

“I won’t hurt you, I promise, he said again.

The boy nodded.

— What’s your name?

— Kim Jaejoong, he finally responded with a small and timid voice. Yunho could hear the strong accent from the North.

— It’s a great name.

His compliment was met by silence yet again. Yunho's eyes lingered on the boy and the latter was watching him too. His attention nervously juggled between Yunho's weaponless hands, face, and feet. His doe-eyes stopped on his shoulder, where Yunho knew the symbol of South Korea's army was sewed on.

— You should go back, said Yunho because they shouldn’t be here. They shouldn't be standing, staring at each other instead of killing the sworn enemy of their country. Go. You should not be here.”

The boy nodded swiftly but, fresh tears began to fall despite him. Soft sobs sounded in Yunho's ears instead of explosions and, he couldn't decide if it was better. Yunho's feet moved on their own. But Yunho was alarmed because they were not moving to the right side; to the camp. Jaejoong's eyes widened. His sobs stopped midway when arms hesitantly wrapped around him.

Awkwardly, Yunho patted the boy’s back before letting go. But then a pair of arms encircled him and, a face nuzzled against his chest. The latter's helmet knocked softly against his jaw. Jaejoong's sobs became uncontrollable but, their sound thankfully dampened with Yunho's uniform. He didn’t let go even though he was afraid someone might walk on the scene and see them. A soldier who hugged an enemy. A South Korean who hugged a North Korean. Yunho wondered if comforting your enemy could be considered as high treachery.

Yunho looked down at the boy. This situation was too weird. He broke the awkward hug and kept the boy at arm's length. The latter sniffed loudly; he had stopped crying and wiped his nose on his sleeve. Yunho cringed at the side. Jaejoong looked up, his helmet fell further down the side of his face, and he was pitiful. But Yunho was not one to judge because he was no better.
He moved back because it was too uncomfortable and leaned against the wall. He slid along it; he felt a headache coming. What if someone had seen him with the boy? He could risk being accused of betrayal.

He watched as Jaejoong stood while staring back at him, eyes full of despair. Yunho knew he shouldn’t call him by his name if he didn’t want to come to care for him.

“How old are you?

— Sixteen, replied Jaejoong quietly.

Sixteen years old. Yunho sighed deeply and took his head in his hands. This whole situation was such a mess. He was only sixteen years old! What was he doing on a battlefield? Tiredness took him for the nth time. All of this was a complete mess. He looked up again and, seeing the boy sniffing and fresh tears falling down his face dirtied by mud, he couldn’t help but think; how did he even survive? He sighed again before patting the ground beside him. He knew he was going to get killed if he ever got caught with the enemy but, could anyone even make out an enemy out of the trembling boy?

Jaejoong sat beside him, letting a little distance between them. Even if Yunho had promised not to hurt him, he thought the latter shouldn't trust him because he was still the enemy. He's too young, thought Yunho.

“Aren’t you afraid that I might hurt you? he asked out of curiosity.

A silence met him, and Yunho had enough of silence. It brought back the buzzing.

— You promised, whispered Jaejoong.

— And what if I lied and this is a trap?

Yunho was startled when the boy quickly bolted up but fell in his haste. Panicked, the latter tried to get up but slid on the muddy ground. He turned and stared wide eyed at Yunho, tears falling down.

— Please don’t kill me.

Fear was back at full force. The younger one failed again to stand up, his hand slipped underneath him. In a last desperate attempt to shield his body from any harm, he cowered on himself.

Yunho was back on the battlefield, killing an enemy fallen on the ground. He was looking into the begging eyes of the condemned soldier. But in a split of a second, it was gone. Eyelids closed as if the latter had accepted his fate. Yunho's jaw clenched at the firing sound that echoed in his ears. It was a memory that rebounded like a pebble thrown against water.

And Yunho resented everything in this war and its main motto. Shoot or get shot.

— It’s okay, he said calmly, I promised so I won’t hurt you. Calm down.

The boy still regarded him with tears falling down. How did he survive up till now? Yunho moved his hand to place it on the latter's shoulder. Yet, the frightened soldier jerked back and fell on the ground. Yunho sighed, he shouldn’t have asked that question. The boy had begun to trust him.

— Jaejoong, he called steadily but softly. Maybe calling him by his name would calm him.

Jaejoong stared back.

— I won’t hurt you. I made a promise.

Yunho also thought he made a promise to protect his country and getting cosy with an enemy wasn’t a way to keep it. Jaejoong hiccuped. He could make an exception.

With another sigh, Yunho crawled cautiously and slowly toward Jaejoong. He seemed to calm down and allowed Yunho to pat his shoulder.

— I won’t hurt you, he repeated just for good measures. Okay?

Jaejoong nodded. Yunho tried to smile. He was sure it came out as an awkward grimace. Another silence took over them. He moved his hand away and leaned back against the wall. He couldn’t help but remark the way Jaejoong didn’t follow him and seemed to hesitate.

— Come sit with me.

With a quick nod, Jaejoong crawled up and sat next to him.

— Do you have any friends you can go back to?

He cursed when Jaejoong stilled beside him.

— It’s not that I want you gone but just…uhm…I'm curious. Do you?

Jaejoong shook his head. His helmet further slid down on his face. Yunho hesitated for a moment before he put it back correctly. All the while, Jaejoong stared at him, eyes wide. He tried to ignore them as he tilted the helmet so it won’t fall on one side. However, almost by reflex, he looked down. Their gaze met. Yunho’s hands stopped fastening the clip the helmet's clip.

Jaejoong’s eyes were cold. Emotionless even at first glance. Yet when Yunho stared a bit longer, he could see their depth. The overflowing emotions. They rendered Jaejoong almost vulnerable. A whirlwind of feelings; an inconsolable sadness, a profound fright, an helplessness, a vulnerable innocence, a deep loneliness, an incontrollable nervousness. It made Jaejoong’s eyes too intense. They Yunho in. It was too much for him.

He coughed into his fist and broke the gaze. They were too similar even though YunHo was certain that any soldier right now was in the same state of mind.

He looked back. Their intensity didn't change. Bringing his thumb up, he wiped the tears away. He tried another smile, another grimace.

— It’s okay, I don’t have friends as well.

He didn’t know if he could think of Changmin and Yoochun as friends. They met in a war, nothing else brought them together than the enemies to shoot.

His thoughts were broken when he became aware that his thumb had stopped on the Jaejoong's plump lower lip. Awkwardly and quickly he retracted his hand and looked back to the wall opposite to them. He could feel Jaejoong’s eyes on him.

— And-and what about your family? he stuttered out.

He rubbed his hands on his trousers to keep them from reaching out.

When Jaejoong didn’t answer, Yunho went on because another awkward silence wasn't welcomed.

— I have my father, mother, grandfather and my little sister. Even though it costs me to say it, I missed her and her annoying way of getting me into troubles.

He let out a chuckle. Images of his sister came back with their lot of sadness. He pushed it away. He wanted to remember her positively.

— One day, she wanted to give flowers to our mother. Instead of buying them, she cut all the flowers in mom’s garden. Mom was furious when she discovered her garden and out of fear, my sister had the flowers and scissors in my hands. Mom punished me before I had even time to deny.

He had been furious at the unfairness. However, one look at his sister’s frightened expression and he had given a long suffering sigh. He had to take care of the garden for three months, something he hadn't been fond of.

Now, with a regretful laughter, he would give anything to be back in that garden, amongst wonderful fresh fragrances of red roses, tulips and white lilies.

He turned his head and started at the soft hesitant smile on the north Korean's face. It was a slight pull of lips but still brightened Jaejoong’s entire face. It brought one upon his heart-shaped lips.

— And you? Do you have annoying sisters like me?

— Eight.

Yunho’s eyes almost bugged out of their orbit.

— Eight?! He almost choked on the offending word. Oh my god! It means eight times more trouble! How did you survive?!

He might have made another of his grimace—an expression of horror—because Jaejoong laughed. Yunho stared. It was a light and refreshing sound that instantly shut down all the buzzing in his ears. It emanated of innocence and joy and Yunho’s heart missed a beat. But he didn’t want to dwell on the meaning. So he just listened as Jaejoong laughed, his voice ringing along the morbid tranche.

After the laughter died down, silence ruled back, much to Yunho’s disappointment. So in order to quieten the buzzing, Yunho asked questions to which Jaejoong responded by either a nod or a shake of his head or a short word. Yunho liked it more to the silence and the buzzing.

— Do you go to school? I mean… before the war.

JaeJoong shook his head with a soft no.

— Why?

— We’re too poor.

JaeJoong doesn’t explain more.

— I understand… I wanted to ask, aren’t you too young for… war?

— We were told that for each man sent to war, the family will get money so…

Yunho’s jaw clenched. Again, this shows the unfairness brought up by wars.

— I’m sorry to hear that.”

Jaejoong shrugged but wiped the fresh tears. Yunho pat him again on the shoulder. When the sobs went louder, Yunho pulled him in another of his awkward hugs. He didn’t budge when Jaejoong leaned against his shoulder.

Yunho jolted awake and was on alert immediately. A voice above him told him to calm down and that he was not in danger. Changmin was staring down at him.

“I'm not sorry for waking you up. Seriously what were you thinking about? You could have your shot by the enemy.”

At the word enemy, Yunho’s blood went cold and, he spun around. Kim Jaejoong wasn't there anymore. After the north Korean had calmed down yet again, they had talked. Mostly Yunho was conversing, and Jaejoong listening. He hadn't been able to get more than a word or two from him.

But now, the crying boy with a breath-taking smile and laughter was gone. Yunho didn’t know if he should feel relief, for he won’t be charged for betrayal, or sadness because the boy was gone. Yunho stood up and followed Changmin. After a few steps, he stopped and turned back. He didn’t understand why he was disappointed. Shaking his head, he turned his back on that special moment, shared with an enemy. Because it was better to forget that night and that enemy.

“Are we still enemies? had asked Jaejoong at one point of their conversation.

— I guess not.”

Yet he knew he wouldn't forget that special friend.

The day after, the war took back, and Yunho fought alongside Changmin and other soldiers. Every time he killed an enemy, he prayed hard to not fall on a friend in a disguise.

A few days later, the Americans came to help. Slowly the north Koreans were pushed back to the original frontier. Yunho and his new friends returned home.

However, happiness didn't last long. North Korea counter-attacked, with one million of Chinese soldiers, and Yunho was recalled.

More deaths, never-ending battles. Decreasing faith, too many farewells. Did Yunho see Kim Jaejoong on the battlefield? Not once. He had prayed hard not to see him.

After a year, used and tired, they were allowed to go back home once again. But happiness always seemed to be of short term because Yunho learned that his grandfather had left them a month ago. He cried for two weeks.

But life for Yunho continued, and weeks after, he helped his mother in her flower shop and worked as a waiter at night. He helped to pay for his sister’s tuition fees and delayed the realization of his dream. It didn’t prevent him from singing for himself or Yoochun’s birthday. Accompanied by Changmin and Yoochun, they went to visit Junsu’s grave. Like he had promised, Changmin had gone to see Junsu’s parents.

A year after, the war was over.

One day, after returning from his mother’s flower shop, Yunho learned by the newspaper that North Korea was claiming their prisoners back. He read that there were almost seven hundred prisoners waiting. The article revealed a few names and, Yunho froze when he spotted a name he had never forgotten.

Kim Jaejoong.

The sixteen years old's tear-stricken face flashed before his eyes.

From that moment, Yunho couldn't stop thinking about that young boy and their meeting. His brain rewound that night like a broken tape. A week later, he filled a form to see the latter. Half a year had passed by when Yunho finally received a letter from the prison with a date and time.

He sat in the chair in front of a glass that separated him from the prisoners. He was two hours late. It wasn't his fault. The guards had to check every person's identity and make sure they were harmless.

It was his first time in a parlor. Around him were mostly families, and Yunho could hear from their accent that they were all from the North.

A woman was seated on his right with her young son standing beside her. She was dressed in a simple yet, elegant navy hanbok and kept her hair tied with a butterfly pin. When their eyes met, Yunho saw tears sliding down her cheeks. She quickly turned away and wiped them.

On his other side was an elderly man. His back bent in half, deep wrinkles were on his forehead. He seemed so tired. He reminded Yunho of his grandfather. His heart clenched painfully. He chased the memory of his grandfather's wrinkled and smiling face from his head. Unlike the mother, the older man didn't keep his tears hidden. He felt uneasy and looked away.

Everyone around him seemed to be worn out by the war. Almost every family had lost a member to the bombs raining down on their village, to the battlefield, to famine or even diseases. North or South, no one had been safe.

The door on the other side of the window opened. A line of prisoners, dressed in white trousers and flannel, stepped inside. They walked at the far end of the room and stood before them, their head hung low.

A guard called the prisoners one by one and told them which chair they had to sit on. Yunho didn't know how many prisoners were called before the one who mattered to him was ordered to sit on the chair across his. From the beginning of their entrance, Yunho's eyes hadn't left that particular prisoner.

The nineteen years old boy was staring at his feet. His throat clenched at how small the latter looked. If he had seemed small and awkward in his soldier uniform back then, now with his trousers still too large for him, the nineteen years old boy resembled a ghost.

“Kim Jaejoong, called the guard. Chair number four.”

The boy looked up, and their eyes met for the first time in years. For a split of a second, Jaejoong didn't seem to recognize him then, his eyes lit.

Jaejoong walked forward, their eyes never leaving each other. The latter stumbled against his chair. Yunho nearly stood up to catch him, but the window was a cruel barrier. Jaejoong sat down before him.

Up close, it was worst. He stared at the dark circles, the hollow cheeks, and the broken lips. His hair messed up and dirty. It was hard to look. His arms were skinny, and his skin, deadly pale. Yunho had seen death at his feet on the battlefield. But, Jaejoong was alive, barely but alive. He shouldn't look like this.

He took the phone handset, and Jaejoong did the same. His heart ached at the sight of the metallic handcuffs biting into small wrists. There was nothing beautiful at the sight of Kim Jaejoong.

Silence. Keeping the handset to their ears, none of them talked. The words won't get out.

“Yunho?

He barely heard the whisper.

— Yes it's me.

He coughed to loosen the knot in his throat.

The atmosphere was awkward between them. Yunho didn't know what to say. It was logical. They had met once. At a moment where both had been broken with all the atrocities they had seen daily. They were strangers who had been friends for a night.

But Jaejoong seemed more broken than him.

— I'm happy to see you, said Jaejoong a little louder.

His voice has changed.

The accent remained, but Yunho could hear how the latter's voice had deepened. It was a nice sound if we forgot the tiny coughs that broke through it.

— Me too.

Another pause.

— How did you find me?

Yunho told him about the newspaper, and Jaejoong nodded. There was a long silence between them. What could two strangers, who had met on the battlefield back then and now in such circumstances, talk about?

— Are you eating well?

It was, of course, a stupid question, and Yunho regretted it right away. Jaejoong's skinny body was the visual answer. The younger man fiddled with the thread of the handset nervously. When Yunho saw the way he bit hard on his lower lip, he knew it might be terrible for him to be here. It would be for anyone that wasn't on the South's side.

Jaejoong looked away. He did too and that was when he saw the mother cry with her son in her arms. On his other side, the older man was apologising at his grandson.

— My poor grandchild, he said. I'm not a good grandfather, I didn't protect you.

Yunho looked back in front of him. He shouldn't witness such intimate moment. But he guessed that for a few, north Koreans didn't deserve privacy.

Jaejoong was crying silently, and Yunho wished he could be on the other side to give the latter a pat on his shoulder.

— It's...it's going to be fine, said Yunho. The North wants their prisoners back so maybe you won't stay here for long.

The latter nooded, but won't look at him. Yunho checked if the guards were watching them then his eyes went back to Jaejoong when they didn't seem to watch them.

— What happened after that night? whispered Yunho. How did you survive?

But like the first time they met, Jaejoong wasn't answering his questions. Yunho understood that he might be too hard for the boy—the young man—to talk about that.

— Visits are over, said the guard on Jaejoong's side of the room.

The sudden panic in Jaejoong's eyes was frightening. His eyes looked completely wild.

— I don't want to get back in there, please help me.

— I...I'll do whatever I can to get you out.

— Please!

— Get up! hollered the guard.

When Jaejoong held onto the handset, the man hit him repeatedly with a stick.

— Stop it! screamed Yunho as he hit the window with his fist. No!

Jaejoong passed out and fell against the window. He was too weak too resist when two guards came toward Jaejoong.

Yunho stared wide-eyed as Jaejoong was dragged out of the room. He was hauled out of the prison too.

— !”

He glared at the closed doors of the prison. Two soldiers ordered him to leave.

He left but promised to come back, and that he would do anything to free him. Kim Jaejoong had been a prisoner of the war for far too long.

Afterwards, Yunho had to plead to see Jaejoong. The guards hadn't forgotten their attitude and made it hard for Yunho to see him. It took him months to get the authorization to see him again.

When he saw Jaejoong, the latter looked worst than the first time. Yunho bit the inside of his cheeks. Jaejoong was only skin on bones.

“Jaejoong?

He called but the latter didn’t respond nor did he look up. He was staring blankly at the small handrest before him.

— Jaejoong, it’s me Yunho.

Yunho watched as the mist in Jaejoong’s eyes cleared and when they focused on him, they widened before the latter threw himself against the window. A soldier came to hold him down.

— It’s okay, Jaejoong, I’m here, he tried to reassure him softly so he won't be thrown out of the prison. Even though, he ressented how the soldier manhandled the frail young man.

After a mintue of fighting off, and when the soldier threathened to bring him back into his cell, Jaejoong calmed down. Soft sobs rang in the parlor. But it was lost in the cries of many other prisoners.

— You didn’t abandon me.

— I promised that I won't.

Jaejoong didn't talk much. Yunho would do all the talk, telling him about how he worked with his mother at the flower shop. He told him about his grandfather's garden that was giving flowers and soon fruits.

— I'll bring you some.

He looked down at his hand on the tiny table in front of him, and recounted Jaejoong how Yoochun was staying in their house, in his grandfather's empty room.

— His entire family had disappeared from Seoul, they fled the bombs. He suffered much more than I.

Yunho looked down, he wasn't sure it was his best idea to talk about Yoochun's story while he didn't know about Jaejoong's.

— I think it's a good thing to give him grandfather's room, it helps move on.”

So his father wouldn't stay for hours in that empty room, watching walls. As he went on, he glanced at Jaejoong. The latter seemed distracted, his eyes unfocused. What happened to him? Yunho wanted to know. Yet he knew it will take a lot of time before Jaejoong opened up to him, if he ever did. Yunho would do the talking until then. Until he would find a way to free him.

Before leaving, Yunho adviced Jaejoong to behave so they would be able to see each other soon. Jaejoong did as Yunho told him because next time came sooner than expected.

“What's on your eye?

Yunho glared at the darkened skin all around the younger man's left doe-eye.

— I fell, answered quietly Jaejoong.

His eyes went down to his wrists, and his scratched knuckles.

— Did someone hurt you?

Jaejoong shook his head. An anger rose up in his body. Obviously Jaejoong was lying, the way he murmured, the quick glances from side to side as if checking no one heard them and how he bit down onto his lips.

— Jaejoong-

— How is your flower shop?

He stared for long. Maybe it was better for Jaejoong if Yunho didn't make a scene. But it only made his intention to get Jaejoong out stronger.

— Well, many want to buy flowers.

Because war had killed so much, food was too precious to give to the death, flowers were the second option. But most of the times, Yunho's mother would give them for free, not wanting to get money thanked to the war.

He went on, about his sister learning in the soldier's hospital to be a nurse. For now, she was taking care of the less injured ones. Yunho didn't wish for her to see how horrible the war was in the battle field.

— Do you eat?

— Why does it matter?

— It matters, Jaejoong. You have to, if not, you won't have enough strength when you'll leave this prison.

— Will I ever?

— I promised you.”

The next time, Jaejoong looked a bit better, and at the end, Yunho gave the guard a pie his mother made so he would give it to Jaejoong.

“Even enemies get better pies than us, spat the guard.

— Take some if you like, but give him a part.”

Yunho hoped Jaejoong would at least have a taste.

“Thank you for the pie, Yunho. It was delicious. I've never ate food this delicious.

He felt relieved to hear that. But pushed away the harsh beat of his heart when Jaejoong said his name. Once a week, Yunho visited Jaejoong. Soon with baskets of fruits. Every time he came, Jaejoong's eyes would be relentless until they fell on Yunho. And every time, Yunho felt a pinch as he saw relief in the latter's eyes at seeing him.

Beside his visits, Yunho did everything he could to free Jaejoong. He had great hope for South Korea announced a month after his previous visit that they would allow the prisoners of war to choose if they wanted to stay in South Korea or return to the North. Yunho hoped Jaejoong would chose the latter but maybe he craved to see his own family in the North, even though Jaejoong never talked about them.

His trial would be in six months because there were a lot of prisoners. Yunho wished to accelerate the process but he was told that there was nothing more to do than wait.

Jaejoong was gaining colours, he seemed healthier. Slowly Yunho would admire the changes, the dark circles were almost gone, his lips were full and red, there were no more tears sliding down his rosy cheeks. He was still thin but not skin on bones anymore.

Yet a few bruises would still mark his skin. Yunho wanted to fight them all for hurting Jaejoong. He was a victim of this war too, like most of them. Each time, it was harder not to be able to take him in his arms.

Yunho learned a lot about Jaejoong too. For example, the latter loved singing and Yunho would listen to him fervently and embarrassingly enough, YunHo would admit that he had never heard such a beautiful voice before.

“Thanks.

Jaejoong's timid voice startled him.

— Oh...I-I mean it.”

And Yunho cursed internally, because he said it out loud. He tried to ignore the latter's shy smile and blush.

He also learned that Jaejoong loved to read poems and sometimes, the two wrote songs together. Jaejoong loved black and red, animals such as elephants, dogs and cats. Cooking too was one of his favorites hobbies, apart of singing.

When Yunho told his parents why he went to Seoul many times by month, they first couldn't understand. Jaejoong was an enemy who may have killed many south Koreans. But as Yunho explained Jaejoong's situation and how they met, slowly they began understanding. Since then, Yunho brought Jaejoong homemade meals cooked by his mother.

“Thank your mother for me, Yunho-ah.”

Every gorgeous smile of Jaejoong had his heartbeat fluttering.

Much later, Jaejoong told him about his parents. He wasn't looking into Yunho's direction.

“They were killed by soldiers from the south, he murmured, his fingers gripping the phone tightly. My sisters can’t be found.”

Yunho didn’t say anything because he had no words. Jaejoong told him he was okay and that he didn't have any hard feelings, but Yunho knew it was a lie. The atmosphere became awkward.

Yunho only comes back two months later. And how horribly tragic it had as an effect on Jaejoong. The latter was skinnier than the first time he had seen him in the parloir.

When Jaejoong saw him as he entered the parloir, he seemed relentless, his eyes going from chair to chair. As soon as he spotted Yunho, he bolted to him. Yunho stood up instantly when a guard came to restrain Jaejoong.

“Jae, I'm here. Calm down. I'm here.

— I'm sorry if I told you something you didn't like. I promise I won't talk about my parents! Don't hate me please!

A strong need to hug Jaejoong caught him off-guard, but he wished it so hard.

— Don’t cry, you did nothing wrong.

If anyone was at fault, it was Yunho. He knew he shouldn’t have taken it personally but how not to when he had been a soldier for the south who had killed many fathers and brothers?

— I’m sorry, I’m sorry, he repeated again and again until Jaejoong’s sobs lessened.

— Don’t abandon me.

And when Jaejoong begged him to not abandon him, Yunho felt like the biggest jerk ever.

Jaejoong had confessed not having a family anymore, but Yunho had only listened to the part of south Koreans killing them. While witnessing Jaejoong's tears, Yunho felt so sorry for being such an insensible in front of Jaejoong’s sorrows. He tightened his hold on the phone, and whispered words of apologies.

Soon Yunho found a job in Seoul, and visited Jaejoong twice to thrice a week. Two weeks later, Jaejoong was allowed to go out of the prison for a day under custody. In the new clothes Yunho bought for him, Jaejoong looked splendid and Yunho couldn’t help his heart from beating fast. But he pushed it away like he did whenever it happened in the past weeks.

Seoul was still in reconstruction. Even in the middle of the unfinished buildings, Jaejoong was stunning with his grin plastered on his face. They ate in a park that barely had any grown-up trees since all of them had been burnt. Seeds had been planted. Seoul needed to reborn from its ashes.

Jaejoong’s eyes shone brightly when their gaze met. Before Jaejoong kissed him on the cheek.

“Thank you for all the things you do to me.”

With a nod, Yunho rubbed awkwardly his cheek, his heart threatening to get out of his chest.

A few days later, Yunho learned that his sister passed her exams with great marks and would work in the hospital she was working in. When they were in a corner of the park, Yunho announced the news to Jaejoong, and the latter was happy for him.

“You can realise your dream now!”

YunHo wanted to say yes, but the war was still closed and it wasn’t time for those kind of dreams. He was happy nonetheless. Then shocked when Jaejoong kissed him. On the lips.

His eyes widened. His heart beat frantically. Looking around, he was relieved that no one was there.

“Why-why did you kiss me?

Jaejoong only laughed and shrugged. For the first time, he laughed. More than the kiss, his laughter stunned Yunho.

— I don’t know.

YunHo coughed.

— Well you can’t go around kissing people.

JaeJoong only gave him a knowing smile because Yunho wasn’t angry he was kissed on the lips and by a man.

The next time, Yunho kissed him when there was no one in their park. The kisses became passionate when they were in a secluded and abandoned building. Turning into more and more. Yunho knew it was wrong but then Jaejoong was staring up at him, eyes glimming with love and want, and he could only bit harder on the red lips.

The next week they fought because his mother had presented him a woman to marry. He only came back two weeks later and announced Jaejoong he had refused, but it didn’t mean his mother would stop searching. This time, the kisses were so hard he broke Jaejoong’s lower lip.

A week later, Jaejoong finally recounted him what happened after that fateful night. He fought in the war until they were pushed back to the original frontier. Then they sent him back because of an injury on his shoulder a few months later. Yunho traced the scar left by the bullet with his fingers. Jaejoong told how he came back to an empty and broken house.

“After, I was taken by a friend of my family but then a year later all the men in the house, including me were called back for the war. A few months later, I was caught by soldiers and made prisoner. Then the war was over and few weeks later, you found me.”

Sixth months later was Jaejoong’s trial.

The gates opened and Yunho felt his heart beating faster now. They had waited two years for this day to come. In that span of time, Jaejoong became his friend, then his lover. His mother was still looking for a bride and he still hadn’t realised his dream, however all of this didn’t matter now because Jaejoong had chosen to stay.

Everyone around him watched as one by one, the north Koreans who had chosen to stay in South Korea went out. With his heart in his throat, Yunho waited and waited until a young man detached himself from the crowd and walked toward him, waving enthusiastically, with the most beautiful and radiant smile Yunho had ever seen.

Yunho strode up to him, but the smiles and happiness were soon replaced by screams. The air turned hot and smelled of fire and everything turned black. The last thing he saw before darkness fell upon on him was that twenty-one years old boy with his heart-breakingly gorgeous smile. The last person he saw was a man and not the frightened wannabe soldier of three years ago.

The last person he saw was Kim Jaejoong. A new south Korean, a free man and more importantly, the man he loved so much he could turn into a fool, crazy enough to fight thousands of wars just for him.

“Grandpa? Grandpa?

— Yes, my little child? responded a man lying on his bed.

— Are you okay? You stopped in the middle of the story.

— I’m sorry my child, grandpa was lost in his thoughts. Let’s continue the story, hm?

— Okay!

The little girl happily leaned further into her grandfather's arms.

The old man continued to read her bedtime story and ended it when the princess lived happily ever after with her prince.

— Grandpa?

— Yes my child?

— Will I find my prince too?

— Of course you will, he brought the little girl to his chest and kissed the top of her head. One day you will.

— When? Soon?

He smiles gently at her.

— When you’ll be ready. But for now, you need to go to bed if you don’t want to have big dark circles under your eyes. You need to be presentable for your prince, hm?

The little girl pouted but a wide yawn cut it. Soon she was sleeping. He chuckled at her cuteness.

— I’m going to take her to her bed, dad.

He looked up and smiled at his daughter. He nodded, kissed again his granddaughter on the forehead and helped his daughter lift the sleeping child. Looking out at the night when his daughter left, he sank back in his thoughts.

— Dad?

— Hm?

He tore his eyes from the stars to look at his beautiful daughter standing by the doorframe. Staring at her, he was the proudest man ever.

— Did you find that happy ever after end?

—Why are you asking me that all of sudden?

— No…just like that, his daughter gave him a smile. I just wondered if you had.

— I have. You, my child and her, my granddaughter are a part of my happy ever after end.

She nodded.

— And mom? her voice trembled at the mention of her late mother.

— I loved her…a lot, he smiled kindly. She nodded again before walking away, but then stopped.

— Did you love someone more than her?

— You and my grandchild.

— Someone else?

She stared at him.

— Why do you want to know?

— I don’t know, she shook her head with a smile. She kissed him on the forehead. It doesn’t matter. Good night.

— Good night my child.”

With a last smile, she left. In the silence of the night, he stared back at the stars. Tonight they were so beautiful, just like that fateful night when he met that older soldier. That night, he had been broken and helpless and frightened and lonely, but that soldier had saved him.

Jung Yunho had saved him and made him a free man. And that night, Jung Yunho had stolen his heart. Jung Yunho who had been killed in an attempt against the north Koreans by people who thought that someone like Jaejoong, the enemy, didn’t deserve to stay in their country, didn’t deserve the freedom offered to them. Jung Yunho who had fought until the end for Kim Jaejoong’s freedom.

“Yes I did, Jaejoong whispered, I still do.”

That night, the stars shone brighter than usual just like they had sixty-four years ago. And Kim Jaejoong fell asleep for the last time, a smile on his face because that night, he returned where he belonged to and always had and always will, in Jung Yunho’s arms. That night was the beginning of their happy ever after.

 

The end.