Could, Should, Can't, Won't°°hwarang°°

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Author note: there will be grammar problems so...

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Han Sung inhaled crisp clean air. The small stream of water pushed its way past a deformed boulder, droplets catching on the bottom of his robes.

It was night and the Hwarang house was silent. All lights out with an occasional flicker of the guards torches.

Quiet, he thought, peaceful. Calm. Serene. Something that wouldn't be allowed in Hwarang.

Han Sung frowned, focusing on the steady flow of water.

**Yeo Wool was like ice cream. Nice and cool. Smooth, pretty.**

Violence. And blood. And war. And death.

Is that all Hwarang is? Killers?

Han Sung blinked.

**Sun Woo was like ice. Firm and cold. Fragile, yet powerful.**

"Is that what I'm supposed to be? Nothing but a soldier?" He looked to the sky, milky chocolate, innocent eyes pleading the moon for an answer. "I can't....I-I won't be a soldier."

Han Sung glanced at the dirt path leading to the sleeping Hwarangs then back to the woods across the stream.

He could leave.

Run.

From Hwarang. From war. From his grandfather and judging stares.

**Soo Ho was like fire. Feirce and hotheaded. Warm, but dangerous.**

He could start new. No status. No family. He could cut his hair, throw his clothes into a ditch.

Han Sung could be free.

**Aro was like peppermint. Icy but welcoming. Refreshing, new.**

But, what about Danse? And Sun Woo? Soo Ho? Yeo Wool? Ji Dwi? Aro? Ban Ryu-wait he's a jerk.

The true-bone hesitated. He couldn't just leave them. They're his friends, family even. So dear to him.

**Ban Ryu was like the earth. Strong and steady. Beautiful but unpredictable.**

But...do they feel the same? Han Sung imagined their eyes glancing at his boxy smile and shining eyes. No, they thought he was childish. Childish to laugh.

To smile.

To be fun and naive.

To be him.

**Ji Dwi was like water. Calm and bold. Graceful, yet uncontainable.**

"Han Sung? Why aren't you in bed?"

The youngest Hwarang tensed.

Soo Hoo.

Said person carefully turned the boy to face him. Han Sung licked his dry lips, "Why are you not in bed, hyung?"

"Touché....I-I came here to think. Usually there's no one here so I....uh..." Big eyes darted to look anywhere but at Han Sung.

"M-me too. To think. Here....now." Han Sung eyed the path behind Soo Ho,"I should probably go. And sleep. Good night hyung."

**Danse was like the wind. Cool and mysterious. Sharp, but gentle.**

Soo Ho reached out a hand to stop him and probably question him but Han Sung darted away and skipped down the rocks, briskly walking.

He could leave.

Right now. I can walk past the stream, into the woods, he thought, I can wait for hyung to go back, and leave.

Han Sung bit his bottom lip.

They were his family. They are his family. He's not going to leave. How else are they going to live without him?

As long as I'm here, with them, it's ok.

Han Sung could leave, but he won't.

**Han Sung was like the sun. Bright and happy. Blinding, beautiful, with a sense of home and warmth. The light that made it bearable to be consumed in darkness. The light that is worth fighting for because it creates a path to the other side, where there is life. Laughter. Family. Love.**

Weeks later Han Sung dies, by the sword of his brother and in the arms of his hero.

The sun didn't shine as bright as before.

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published: 4.27.2017