virginangelic | Cost of War

Title: Cost of War
Author: virginangelic
Rating: R (to be safe)
Genre: Angst
Pairing: Broken Kyumin, Implied Qmi
Warning: Mature themes, slash (as usual)
Summary: Post-War AU. Nothing's been quite the same since they took him away...
A/N: I know I said I was never gonna write again but what to do, you just gotta write when you gotta write. And I realise that I've written a piece with the same title but consider it part of this...verse? Expect more, when I get to it. :) Read and review as usual people!

Cost of War: The Dreamer

Sungmin noted that once again, the plate of cut fruits had been left untouched.

“Kyuhyun…”

Why won’t you look at me?

Why won’t you talk to me?

Why do you push me away?

The younger man didn’t respond.

Sungmin gazed at the younger man who sat silently on the wooden deck, looking up to the heavens. His eyes were glazed over, as though searching for something, or perhaps reminiscing about the past three years. Those lost three years when they had been apart; three years of fear, of oppression, of dread.

Sungmin couldn’t blame the other for getting lost in the past – he had little inkling of what transpired in the encampments, let alone the concentration camps. He had heard stories nightmares were made of, tales of how they tortured their prisoners, of unearthly screams that rang out day and night, of appalling living conditions and so much more. He had known Kyuhyun had not been caught until a year into the war. Was he reliving his mistakes, his regrets?

There had been times when he wanted to find out what exactly transpired within those cells; back when he had tried to press on, trying to be of support, to be a listening ear. Kyuhyun had lashed out each time.

The first time he had tried asking (casual but hesitant, taking care not to sound demanding); Kyuhyun had loudly demanded that he shut up before smacking him across the face. Kyuhyun had stormed out of the house, his lunch barely eaten. He had been shellshocked, unable to process anything except for the growing, burning sting cross his cheek.

Sungmin remembered the gripping fear that clenched so tightly in his chest when Kyuhyun had not returned that night. He had wanted to look for him but then he remembered that Kyuhyun had left behind his keys. He had no choice but to depend on his brother. He avoided answering any questions about the bruise on his cheeks. Heeding his brother’s advice to stay inside, in case anything unfortunate were to happen – after all, it had only been three days since they had retreated back from where they came from (Hell, probably). There were still swirling rumours that the war was still going on - no one quite trusted the news that they had chosen to surrender. Everyone in the village was still suspicious about it being a ploy, to smoke out all the rebels. They weren't stupid - otherwise, they wouldn't have lasted three years and counting. They had used various means to evade attention but there were always exceptions.

It was common knowledge in the village (although no one dared to utter a word) that the Kim’s sole son, Ryeowook, had been taken mere two weeks ago and made to serve their disgusting carnal desires. Sungmin had escaped the day the bastards had come for new...recruits - he had been sick. He wasn't sure he would be lucky enough a second time, especially if he was caught alone at night.

Sungmin remembered lying very still in bed, eyes wide open, his thoughts running wild, and his heart racing with every squeak, every creak he heard - his entire being fired up. He had collapsed into Eunhyuk’s arms when his brother returned that night empty-handed. Despite the doctor's advice that he rest, Sungmin resumed running the household; Eunhyuk was hopeless after all. He prayed that his brother and his partner were safe each night as their game of cat and mouse continued. Sungmin only managed to rest until three nights later, when Kyuhyun had came back in the dead of the night, red-faced and drunk, supported by Shiwon. He remembered breaking down and wanting to land a punch on Kyuhyun – Eunhyuk was the one who exchanged blows with the drunkard mere seconds after Shiwon left with an explaination that Kyuhyun had gotten drunk and stayed over at his place.

It became a pattern when each time he tried asking. He learnt to keep his mouth shut, hoping that one day this Kyuhyun would open up to him.

Sungmin looked forlornly at the man, wondering if the other would ever return to the land of the living, instead of simply existing. The way Kyuhyun was acting reminded Sungmin of one whose heart had been broken but he willed the thoughts away, although he couldn’t shrug off the nagging suspicion that there was more to the story. He merely watched as the other man stood up and headed elsewhere. He wanted to stop the other from leaving but the words died in his throat when he saw the other man's face.

He knew that look. Sungmin’s heart ached, wondering if the rumours of another man were true. (He knew in his guts it was true.) Stepping inside the house, he sighed quietly, resigned to the fact that ever since they took Kyuhyun away, nothing’s been quite the same. He broke down when he heard the house gates swinging open and back again.

The next morning, Sungmin knew the inevitable had arrived when Kyuhyun mentioned in passing to him over breakfast that he was headed for China the very next day and that he wouldn't be having lunch or dinner. Sungmin merely nodded as he swallowed down the piping hot congee, his eyes gazing Kyuhyun; desperately trying to memorize every pockmark, every scar, every mole.

"Stop this!" Kyuhyun demanded.

Ignoring the command, he reached out to touch Kyuhyun's hand. The younger man had grimaced and fled shortly after with nary a goodbye - his bowl of congee and boiled egg was left untouched.

Sungmin mused as he washed his bowl - like clockwork - that perhaps his love was not enough for the other man. He just prayed that whoever it was that Kyuhyun had gave his heart away to, that person would treasure him.

Sungmin knew it was their last goodbye.

He just wished that it didn’t have to hurt so much.

I want to go back to when everything seemed like a dream...

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Cost of War

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