yuwin ✧ animus

Two

It had been a few days since Sicheng had interacted with Yuta. It didn't matter too much to him as he still despised the Imperial Army but still peeked his curiosity. Nonetheless, he continued back to his daily routine.

Sicheng fanned the bantam fire that he'd begun to cook with. Checking to see if the water was boiling yet, he went back inside, he grabbed the clay pot and added a minimal amount of uncooked rice into the water then closed the lid.

The boy sat back against the stone wall, his eyes constantly drifting to the pot and unto the semi-quiet road scattered with rubble. He sat up and went inside his "house", moving over to a somewhat container he had filled with water and cleansed himself from the dirt on his face and hands. He shook his hands dry, walking back out of the building and checking on the boiling rice.

Once checking it few times more to assure it was ready, Sicheng quenched the fire and scooped whatever he'd made into an old, chipped, fine china bowl. Hurriedly, he ate the rice, his everything back inside, then rushed down through all the debris filled roads to a cotton mill where he worked.

He turned the corner as a familiar truck carrying Japanese soldiers sped past him. Entering the cotton mill, Sicheng was met with the quotidian smiles of Kun and Xiao Jun before smiling back and frantically beginning to work.

The work, of course, was extensive and kept everyone busy till nearly sundown. As the three walked beside each other on their way, Xiao Jun began,"Do you think we'll be stuck living like this forever?"

Sicheng diverted his gaze over to him while Kun's voice emitted a reply,"The Japanese can't control us forever but," he paused,"it might be a while."

~~~~

Sicheng said his 'goodbyes' to Kun and Xiao Jun before walking into his house. Upon hearing his stomach growl, the boy checked the clay pot to see how much rice was left.

He muttered to himself,"If I only eat breakfast, there's only enough for three days left."

He ultimately decided on saving the grains and pushed the clay pot away. As he pulled out the worn out mattress that he slept on, Sicheng heard footsteps against the pebbles outside, his attention immediately drifting to the door.

He spotted the olive colored blotches of cloth that shown through the crevices and holes in the door. Sicheng skulked behind the mattress as the door emitted a creaking sound and was slowly pushed open from the outside.

A faintly familiar face peered through the doorway, lessening Sicheng's on-edge demeanor.

Yuta leaned into the main -practically the only room-, his eyes meeting Sicheng's tinted silhouette. Through a breathy laugh, he began,"Did I scare you?"

Sicheng stood up and walked over the mattress, obviously not understanding what Yuta had just said.

Sicheng questioned in Chinese,"What are you doing here?"

Yuta moved his hands which were hidden behind his back, revealing a dirty white bag,"I told you I'd be back."

Sicheng's eyes panned up the bag till he reached Yuta's eyes. He bored into Yuta's gaze, his eyes almost asking Yuta if he was giving it to him.

Yuta grasped Sicheng's wrists, pulling the boy's hand towards him and slapped the bag down onto his palm.

Sicheng's fingers curled around the tough material of the bag, holding it against his chest. He looked up at Yuta to see the soldier with his index finger pressed over his lips.

The boy nodded in a piffling disbelief. Though he still despised the Imperial Army, he still felt a slight gratefulness. He stuttered, hesitantly muttering 'thank you' in Chinese.

Yuta seemed to understand as he jouced his head and began to turn around to walk out. Sicheng held his hand out as if to stop Yuta but rather stopped himself and pulled his hand back. He watched as Yuta cautiously left the door and ran down the dusty road, clutching the strap of the gun that hung off his shoulder.

Sicheng slowly shut the door completely then crouched over to the nearly empty clay pot and poured the rice.  He dusted his hands off each other then closed the lid, moving back onto the tattered mattress and resting his head against the cushion.

~~~~

Sicheng ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"So?"

"I think he had two stars on his uniform. I can't remember clearly."

"And did it have strips or none?"

"None?"

Kun heavily signed at the younger,"He's most likely a Lieutenant General then."

Sicheng crossed his legs while his hands grasped over his ankles,"How high of a rank is that?"

"Pretty high, Sicheng. In the top five I'd say. Even if he hasn't done anything yet, I still wouldn't trust him too much."

"I know and I still don't trust him," Sicheng stood up dusting off his pants and rubbing the debris dust on the sides of the cloth, leaving dusty streaks against the fabric.

Before the younger turned to exit, Kun grabbed his wrist and pulled him down as he heard yelling from nearby soldiers that was shortly followed by a gunshot.

Sicheng's knees pressed against his chest while his hands covered his ears. Kun kept his palm glued to the latter's should as he peeked out the gaps in the windows.

"Are they gone?" Sicheng asked, his words timid. 

Kun lowered himself once again,"Yeah, it's fine now."

Sicheng slid back down against the wall, his eyes tired as he stared listlessly to the opposite side of the room,"Maybe we should just try to escape. I've heard that the Japanese never envaded the other side of China."

Kun looked back at Sicheng,"And if we get caught? We'll be killed for sure."

"But trying to escape and getting killed would be better than getting killed before doing anything, right?"

Kun's expression softened and became sympathetic,"You're not going to get killed, Sicheng."

Sicheng's fingers grasped a small amount of pebbles beside him as he softly smiled back at Kun.

~~~~