[NCT] SEE YOU IN ANOTHER LIFE

MarkHyuck - 1939 [1]

As the looming clouds of war draw closer to home, Mark, a mere 14 year old boy, felt the weight of responsibility bearing down upon him.

"Mother, I'm scared," he confessed, his voice hesitant.

His mother's gaze softened, but she knew his fate. "I know, Mark. But this is your duty. Show everyone how strong and brave you are. You'll do this country proud," she reassured him, her words laden with a mix of pride and sorrow. "Get some good sleep in time for tomorrow."

After a sleepless night, Mark packed his belongings into a small rucksack, smartened his collar, and kissed his mother goodbye for the final time. He hopped into the beeping truck outside, waving once more to his mother watching from their window.

The journey to the facility was long and gruelling, and Mark recognised not a single face. All the faces that surround him were of much older men with tough exteriors. Mark felt like a little boy beside him.

Upon arrival Mark was thrown into a bedsit with countless other soldiers, ranging in ages way older than his own. The night was already upon them, and the gentlemen were asked to do nothing today but sleep. However, they were told to wake at precisely 05:00 in time for the rundown by one of the drill sergeants.

At 04:55, the lights flickered on. The room filled with light followed shortly by a boom of pots and pans banging together. "FIRST LESSON, PRECISELY 05:00 IS IN FACT PRECISELY 04:55, SOLDIERS," a voice boomed, walking up and down the aisles of confused and tired men in and clanging the pots and pans loudly. "LEARN THIS LESSON. NEXT TIME I WON'T GO SO EASY ON YOU. BE AT THE FEET OF YOUR BUNKS BY 05:00 FOR YOUR SECOND LESSON."

Mark hurriedly got himself dressed and stood at the end of the bed ready for the scary sergeant's lecture.

"That was intense," Mark thought, as the bellows of the sergeant's 15 minute run-through still lingers in the air, his ears ringing softly. Now at-ease, Mark notices a boy similar in age to himself. The boy seemed timid and nervous, with fluffy brown hair and round eyes. Nonchalantly Mark side steps towards him, avoiding the large men chatting amongst themselves, until he is next to the boy.

"Hi, I'm Mark," Mark holds out his hand to the boy, remembering the manners his mother taught him, "What's your name?"

The boy shook his hand limply before responding. "My mates call me Hyuck. So," he looked at the other soldiers, "you can call me Hyuck."

"You any good at fighting, Hyuck?" Mark questioned.

The two walk to Hyuck's bunker and sit on the end together.

Hyuck sighs, "My mother taught me one thing and that's NEVER fight. And now look where I am. Fighting. It's scary in here."

Mark and Hyuck look around at all the grown ups having grown up conversations and move closer to each other subconsciously.

"You a fighter?" Asks Hyuck.

Mark shakes his head and chuckles, "Fighter? I'm a coward more like."

Hyuck nods in agreement before Mark continues.

"But that doesn't mean I won't fight. I'll do it for this country and I'll end this stupid war myself!"

Hyuck listens in awe to Mark, his mouth agape in admiration.

"By the way, how old are ya?" asks Mark.

"12. Just turned two weeks ago."

Marks eyes widen, "You're the same age as my sister then. I'm 13."

Hyucks impression of Mark is he is everything he could ever want to be. Cool, strong, brave - and the fact he's older than him makes him cooler too.

"Hey, how about we stick together? Me and you?" Asks Mark, looking around again at the grown ups. "These men are freaking me out."

Hyuck nods enthusiastically before correcting himself and nodding coolly. "I'd like that very much."