ALEA IACTA EST | MINSUNG ✔️

7. Scars

scar /skar/
a mark left on the skin or within body tissue where a wound, burn, or sore has not healed completely

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Minho felt filthy. Even if he wasn't covered in muck, there was still layers of dirt under his fingernails, little dirt spots scattering his arms like freckles, and the sweaty smell of the prison lingering on him. As much as he tried to scrape the grime off, it always returned— his thin clothes doing little to protect his body.

There was also the pressing issue with having so much scum on him. He thought that it wouldn't bother him, being years since the incident had happened, but the slight burning on his stomach said otherwise. Without an influx of water around him to wash up, he knew it was getting infected. The muscles around it ached, and combined with the stinging that increases with a new intensity each day, something desperately needed to be done before he died from it first.

When the clacking sounds of boots against the stone floor, a slow, loping pattern of footsteps, Minho sat up, eyes pinned to the bars. He recognized those footsteps as Seungmin, the lower ranked guard who often escorted him to the toilets and showers. Jisung's pattern of footsteps was much more fast-paced, someone who walked with authority.

"Ey, Captain," Seungmin's gruff voice filtered in through the obscuring covering of his bushy beard, "Request to take you to the showers today."

Minho simply nodded in response, letting Seungmin cuff his hands and escort him out. He didn't talk much with anyone, besides Jisung. Some of his cellmates had attempted conversation, but he'd shut them down. He knew all they'd do was insult his fate, mock his demise.

He couldn't tell if he loved or hated the lengthy walk to the showers. On one hand, being located in one of the deepest areas of the prison meant that he got enough time to stretch his legs and try to breathe in whatever relatively fresh air seeped through the windows. However, the long walk also meant that he passed more cells. The dark, angry eyes that stared him down as he walked past were sometimes familiar, people he'd met during his expeditions in the wild sea. Sometimes the glares targeted at him were from strangers who still managed to possess such a fierce hatred for him.

Almost all of the prisoners knew who Minho was, it was inescapable.

There was zero privacy in the showers. Above Minho's head, a blackened tube ran the length of the ceiling, with water spouts curving off the sides. The concrete was smoothed over, with holes poked into the surface for the water to run into. There was no windows and no source of natural light, the faint illumination in the room from the opened door and the candles positioned far away from the water.

Seungmin kept the door open, slumping into one of the benches lining the walls and stating, "Sir Jisung should arrive soon. I'll let him decide whether to uncuff you."

"Okay."

Soon enough, Jisung strode through the door. Minho hadn't ever seen him like this before, radiating confidence and importance. Seungmin stood up from his slouched position, saluting professionally and scurrying out of the washroom.

"Just how important are you?" Minho asked once the heavy door had shut with a clang and trapped them inside the room.

"You didn't realize my stature before? These badges aren't for vanity reasons."

"I don't have much experience with military badges," Minho eyed the shiny ornamental pins sticking to Jisung's navy coat, and the intricate badges sewn into the fabric. "How am I to know if they're for winning a war or doing dish duty for a month?"