Yesteryear

Kim Hongjoong

TW: Character Death, explicit description of death and injury

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With reluctant steps, the two males wandered around the dead bodies. A sombre silence covered the area like a stifling blanket. Respect passed their lowered eyes as they lingered no longer than necessary at each body. Most of them had blood-covered features and clothing, and their faces were barely recognisable under the thick layer. Wooyoung was sorry for every second he spent staring at them like science experiments. If they knew he searched for someone specific, they would forgive him.

Some men on the ground had been treated before their death. Dirtied bandages wrapped around the stumps of missing limbs and crossed over their chests under their open shirts. Despite desperate attempts, all help had been too late for them. The eyes of those people were closed in an eternal peace after death, sparing Wooyoung of the horror their empty gazes caused in his heart.

Hongjoong was slightly ahead of Wooyoung. His hunched shoulders conveyed the same goosebumps Wooyoung had since entering the area. The man probably speculated about his own future. Whether he would be able to make it, whether he would live to see the end of the war.

Wooyoung didn't tell him he would. He kept those words to himself and didn't meddle with the natural flow of time.

Every step felt heavy, as if Wooyoung's feet were encased in solid concrete. He feared how they carried him closer and closer to where San had to be. To the truth. Today decided whether Wooyoung could gain new hope in meeting the man or if he would fall into all-consuming darkness that would keep him trapped forever.

Despite all efforts humanity had gone through in the past century leading up to Wooyoung's birth, he had to lose his boyfriend in a war before they could start the happiest part of their lives. Such a sadistic joke.

Hongjoong passed yet another soldier that was too bloodied to be identified. While he moved on already, Wooyoung lingered. His eyes were stuck to the shape of a crescent moon, once golden but now painted red with blood that peeked out under the man's shirt. His steps slowed to a halt as he stared at the object without blinking.

He didn't dare raise his eyes to the face above the man's collarbones. Not looking too much at those bloodied features was Wooyoung's last string of hope.

When Hongjoong noticed Wooyoung slowing down, he turned. His eyes followed Wooyoung's petrified gaze to the man on the ground, then he came back over.

Wooyoung couldn't hide from his prying eyes. Couldn't deny how every emotion displayed on his features as if readable like the lines in an open book.

"Is this him?"

Without waiting for an answer, Hongjoong crouched next to the body. It laid neatly in a row with everyone else, not standing out at all. Nothing special, nothing unique about him.

When Hongjoong smoothed out the bloodied uniform of the man, both his name tag and the red cross stitched onto the fabric came into view. Even from the distance, Wooyoung could see the dreaded letters.

"So he died... I will leave you to it." Hongjoong distanced himself. He meandered through the rows, trying to remember the names and faces of those he would never see again. Friends, maybe, or people he had shared his hopes for a life after this hell with.

Wooyoung slowly sunk to his knees next to the body. The broad shoulders tapered into a scarily familiar narrow waist and long legs. Wooyoung recognised the freckles on his neck in one of the few spots that weren't covered in dried blood.

His heart raced in his chest.

Finally, he dared the dreaded glance at the man's features. He bit his lip at the sight, trying to hold back his wails that would have pierced the death-filled silence of the trenches.