Chapter Text
“I got him,” Yuto said quietly to himself. He moved silently as he loaded his rifle and got down on his stomach between a patch of bushes. This was his job, this was what he’d trained for months to do. To shoot and kill the enemy. Nothing less.
He looked through the scope, lining up the enemy soldiers head for a perfect shot.
I got him.
Yuto took a deep breath in, steadying his hands as he cocked his rifle and put his finger on the trigger. He found out a few days ago his rifle was getting old, the trigger was becoming less sensitive and it was jamming more often. Sadly, Yuto knew he was going to have to retire poor Edgar soon. Yes, he named his rifle Edgar after the great American poet Edgar Allan Poe. Yuto quite liked American literature, don’t judge him.
He watched the soldier slowly pick his way through the forest. He looked British, maybe even American. Yuto had a hard time differentiating where men he’d killed lately where from. Everyone seemed to be fighting the war now.
Yuto took another deep breath, holding it as he tensed his shoulders and pulled the trigger. Shit. It was jammed and rather than the telltale whistle of a sniper rifle filling the air, he heard a click as a gun was being cocked behind him.
Ah shit. Fucking again?
Third time this week Yuto had been caught off guard from behind.
“Get up.”
Yuto rolled his eyes and sighed. The man behind him was young by the sound of his voice, and Korean too, going by the thickness of his English accent. Yuto moved slowly, he knew exactly what he needed to do. This wasn’t his first rodeo.
He threw his rifle a few feet away and got to his knees, putting his hands behind his head at the same time. Boy, if he were a kinky guy, he’d love getting in this position every time an enemy soldier found him.
He heard the Korean soldier move and watched him pick up Edgar out of the corner of his eye. He smirked, that’s a first. He would have to resort to Plan B if this guy didn’t lower his own rifle.
He didn’t.
Plan B it was, then.
Yuto exhaled heavily and waited for the soldier to move from behind him.
“You Japan?” The soldier asked in Japanese. His accent didn’t sound as thick this time.
Yuto nodded and raised his eyebrows, he needed to neutralize this soldier quickly and get the hell back to base camp before sundown. “Look man, as big of a fan as I am for foreplay, don’t keep me waiting. Shoot me or take me prisoner before my hair goes gray,” he said, grinning and tilting his head back to try and catch a glimpse of the man behind him. Rather than get mad and hit him, the soldier laughed loudly.
What the fuck?
He kept laughing. What was this guy doing? Others, Japanese or whatever country this soldier was fighting for, would hear him laughing and definitely want to investigate.
Yuto turned slightly to see if he had a madman behind him or an actual idiot.
Oh shit, he had neither of those. No, he had a God behind him. Jesus christ, Yuto had never seen a more attractive enemy soldier in his two years of war.
Damn. This was going to be a toughy to kill.
But he had to.
Yuto cleared his throat and finally turned all the way around to face the attractive giggling man dead on.
“What are you doing?” He asked incredulously.
The soldier snorted and held up a finger as he caught his breath. He was leaning forward with a hand propped on his knee for support, his gun still somehow pointing at Yuto.
Who the fuck was this guy?
The soldier laughed a bit more before he finally looked up, his deep dark eyes penetrating Yuto’s soul. “Sorry, sorry. I’ve caught like, twenty snipers before you and all of them have either shot themselves or gotten all snivelly and been like,” he stuck his hands out in mock-prayer, “‘Please don’t kill me, I have a wife and kids at home. Please don-’ before I shoot them, but not you.” The soldier’s demeanor turned serious, his shoulders squaring as he stood up straight and his eyes getting impossibly darker. “No... you’re different. You threw your rifle instead of try and shoot me when you realised I’d gotten you, why? That wasn’t very smart.”
Yuto smirked. Finally, someone as clever as him. He chuckled darkly and looked up at the enemy soldier. “You know why.” The soldier nodded and readjusted his grip on his gun. “Then you must also know I don’t plan on being taken prisoner,” Yuto said, his voice dripping with challenge.
The other soldier chuckled threateningly. “Of course, but if you’re as smart as you look, you already know I won’t let you get away alive.”
Yuto felt a burst of exhilaration in his chest. He was thrilled. This soldier was a worthy match for once, someone to give Yuto the challenge he’d been looking for.
Oh fuck yes.
“Well… should we start then?” Yuto asked, cocking his eyebrow up as an invitation. Plan B was a go.
The soldier sniffed and looked around. If Yuto wasn't a man of honour, he'd have taken advantage of his dropped guard.
“Alright, I guess,” the enemy soldier said. He tossed his gun away, and cracked his knuckles. “Fair man’s fight, yeah?”
Yuto slowly got to his feet, rolling his shoulders and shaking out his muscles. “Sure, why not,” he said before lunging forward.
He punched quickly but with the intent to injure. If this soldier won, he would get away and give the enemy important strategic knowledge of Japanese positions.
The other soldier was fast, dodging half of Yuto’s punches and landing a few of his own along Yuto's upper body.
Shit, this was going to take longer than Yuto wanted.
Finally, Yuto’s fist landed on the other’s chest, connecting hard enough to push him back and cause him to fall.
They were both panting now. The enemy soldier was notably shorter and weaker than Yuto, but his stamina was incredible.
“You're good,” Yuto said between breaths.
The other man shrugged noncommittally. “What can I say, top of my class during basic training,” he said casually. How could he still be grinning? He was on his back, Yuto was standing over him, he should be worried for his life.
“Where’d you train? Couldn't have been in Korea, we conquered you before the war even started.”
He laughed and shrugged again. Then, before Yuto even knew what was happening, he twisted his body and kicked Yuto’s legs out from under him.
Fuck. Shit. Bitch. Ass. Goddamnit.
Yuto’s vision spun as he tried to look up at the soldier standing above him now. His head had hit the root of the tree they were under and he had landed painfully on his arm. Shit that was going to be a bitch later.
“I trained with the Allies. You know, the ones winning this war, ” the soldier said, leaning down over Yuto. He put his arm up against Yuto’s throat and pushed down on his windpipe.
Yuto felt himself begin to struggle for air. Goddamnit, this guy was good. And wrong.
“You're wrong, fucker,” Yuto rasped out before he brought his hands up and smacked the soldier on both ears, hard. “ We’re winning the war.”
The enemy soldier yelped and released his hold on Yuto long enough for him to get his leg beneath himself and thrust up. The soldier fell to the side and before his could do anything, Yuto was on him, putting his legs on either side of his torso and sitting on his stomach.
The soldier laughed and held his hands up, palms facing the sky. How was he still laughing? Yuto was literally on top of him.
“You're not too bad yourself,” he said, he put his hands down on Yuto’s thighs. “It's a little hot,” he grinned and winked up at Yuto.
“Maybe I should wait to kill you so we can have some fun together, hmm?” Yuto asked jokingly. The guy was more than attractive and any other day he'd go for it but this was a war. They were supposed to kill each other.
The soldier laughed again and locked eyes with Yuto before he leaned up and wrapped his arms around Yuto’s lower back. He turned his head so his mouth was brushing the shell of Yuto’s ear. “I'd love to do nothing more than that right now,” he whispered hotly.
Yuto gasped, the felt the heat of arousal sparking up in his stomach.
This was the enemy though, he couldn't. He shouldn’t .
He gripped the soldier's shoulders tightly and squeezed before pushing them down hard, forcing the soldier back and leaning in to whisper, “Is that an invitation?”
He felt the soldier turn his head and smirk against his cheek, “Is that a yes?” He ground his hips up against Yuto’s, eliciting another gasp Yuto was definitely ashamed of.
Shit what was Yuto doing? He was a soldier, this was the enemy, one of them needed to die.
Yuto sat up and pushed down harder on the soldier’s shoulder with one hand, raising the other in a fist. He was ready to punch the enemy soldier, looking him in the eyes and trying to get his breath back.
“Well? Which is it? You going to punch me or kiss me?”
Yuto sat there and gazed into the other soldier’s dark eyes while he breathed heavily, his fist still raised.
He needed to knock the soldier out before he could grab his rifle and shoot him in. He needed to be a soldier .
The other soldier didn't say anything; just steadily looked at Yuto with a heated gaze. Yuto closed his mouth, and breathed through his nose.
He needed to be clear headed and not be turned on for this decision.
He needed to be a soldier. And he was a soldier.
Without letting himself think, Yuto punched the enemy soldier in the face hard enough to render him unconscious. He lurched for his rifle and stood up as he cocked it and aimed. He put his finger on the trigger and-
And did nothing.
He couldn't kill him, even if he was the enemy. He just couldn't do it.
He put his finger on the trigger again and took a breath, trying to convince himself to pull it and be on his way….
Fuck.
He put his rifle down and sighed to himself. He could take the soldier back to base camp as a prisoner yes, but he knew what the prison camps were like. They were almost as bad as the ones the Germans ran, especially for those from other Asian countries.
Yuto looked up at the clear blue sky and prayed he was making the right decision, that this wouldn't come back to bite him in the ass. He turned back down to look at the incredibly attractive soldier, taking in the features of his face before grabbing both their packs and running off towards base camp.
God, he hoped he wouldn't regret this decision later.
…….
“Hey, Yuto,” Yuta whispered. Yuto turned his head distractedly as he kept his eyes on the horizon for any enemy troops. “Pack of smokes for whoever gets more kills today?”
Yuto chuckled, “Alright. You're on, fucker.”
They went quiet again.
Yuto heard a branch snap and some rustling in the bushes below. He moved to find the source of the noise, looking through his scope, taking a deep breath as he put his finger on the trigger.
There. The moonlight glinted off a helmet and he squeezed the trigger, watching the bullet fly through the air, straight into his target with deadly precision. He put his head down and listened to the men shouting on the ground. They couldn't see him from his position in the tree, he could pick them off easily.
Yuta fired a shot from the tree blind next to him, and another enemy soldier went down. The troops below them were panicking now, shouting to each other in English.
Yuto saw another glint of a helmet and fired. Then another helmet, and another bullet.
He heard the men on the ground fire their own guns in random directions, a few bullets hitting trees around him.
Yuta was firing systematically along with Yuto, taking the troops out one by one.
Then something happened. Yuto didn't know how but suddenly Yuta cried out and wasn't in his tree anymore. Yuto heard a thud and he took his finger off the trigger.
Everything was quiet.
“I think we've got ‘im, sir,” a young voice shouted. British.
Yuto’s blood ran cold.
“Kang, you shot him, go check if he’s dead. And be careful, there could be more,” an old, gruff voice responded.
Oh god, Yuta.
Yuto heard movement on the ground. A soldier stopped just below Yuta’s tree and shuffled around.
“He’s dead, sir. Bullet to the head,” the soldier responded. Wait, that voice.
“Great, you stay here and search the body. If anyone else comes, shoot the bastards. We’ll move on ahead. Let's go boys,” the gruff voice said. Only a few soldiers began moving, Yuto and Yuta had shot a considerable amount of them.
Yuto was breathing hard now. Yuta was dead.
Yuta was dead.
Yuta was dead and Yuto was helpless to do anything about it.
He heard the soldier below rummage around Yuta’s body. He had to wait for him to leave before he could go down there, and if he fired a shot the others would come back.
Yuto tried to control his breathing. Yuta was dead, fuck. Yuto didn't know what he was going to do, he grew up with him, and now he was gone.
Yuto wiped at his eyes to clear the tears away and tried not to make any sound at all. He couldn't process the fact that Yuta was dead. He couldn't process anything. He felt numb and he kept hearing the sound of Yuta’s body hitting the ground.
The soldier on the ground sighed, and walked away. Yuto waited long after everything was silent before he climbed down his tree to run over to Yuta laying on the ground.
He whimpered. He let his tears fall freely as he kneeled down next to Yuta’s body, and dragged him to lean against his chest.
“Oh god, I'm so sorry,” he gasped out. He couldn't stop crying. He couldn't think, he couldn't feel, but he needed to move. Other soldiers would be coming through here again soon.
Yuto held back a sob and tried to close Yuta’s eyes, but they kept rolling open to reveal that lifeless, immortal stare of the dead.
The bushes a few feet away rustled. Yuto didn’t even bother to look up. Let the fuckers come, they'd feel exactly what Yuta felt when he put a bullet in their skulls.
“Well, I must've been pretty mistaken when I said you were smart.”
The soldier from last time.
Fuck, Yuto should've known. Only the attractive soldier from last time would be observant enough to realise Yuta wasn't the only sniper up there, and crazy enough to come back.
“You killed him,” Yuto held his gaze on Yuta’s boots.
The soldier walked into Yuto’s eyeline and shrugged as he kneeled down next to Yuta’s motionless feet. “Had to. Orders from the sergeant, couldn't go against them,” he said. His gun was hanging by his side, and he seemed comfortable that Yuto wouldn't attack him.
Yuto pulled Yuta’s body closer to him and closed his eyes to keep from crying more.
The other soldier let him fall silent, and looked in the direction his unit had headed in. After a few minutes he turned back to Yuto and asked, “who was he?”
Yuto’s eyes shot up to glare at him with wet eyes. “What's it to you?”
The soldier sighed, and moved to sit cross legged while he held up an innocent hand. “I’m just curious, but you don't have to answer if you don't want to.”
Yuto huffed, and buried his nose in Yuta’s dirty hair. He needed to calm down before he could carry the body back to base camp.
The other soldier was just sitting there though, playing with the dirt by his feet as if he wasn't next to the enemy and the man he just killed. He seemed almost friendly.
“He’s my brother…” Yuto whispered. He shouldn't have been sharing information like that but this man felt trustworthy despite everything; like they had known each other for years, and not just from one interaction Yuto was now regretting a month back.
The soldier’s eyes widened, and he looked at Yuto with sadness and regret. “Oh my god, I'm so sorry…”
Yuto scoffed, “Sorry? You're sorry ?” The soldier flinched at Yuto’s sudden unforgiving tone. “You kill my brother and you're sorry ?” Yuto felt rage fill his chest now. He wasn't sad anymore, he was fucking furious. This man shot his brother out of a tree blind. Searched his brother’s dead body for supplies. And had the nerve to act comfortable around Yuto.
No, fuck that.
This guy was going to fucking die, and Yuto would be the one to kill him.
He rested Yuta’s body back down on the ground and stood up, pulling his rifle up and pointing it at the soldier's forehead.
The enemy soldier’s eyes were still wide, and his lip was quivering as he held his hands up.
“I am so sorry. You have no idea how horrible I feel,” his voice trembled, tears pooled in his eyes.
“You're sorry?” Yuto almost shouted before he laughed ruefully. “You feel horrible?” He moved forward and pressed the tip of his rifle hard against the soldier's head. “You think I have no idea how horrible you feel? You think I really give a shit?” Tears slid down the soldiers cheeks, forming paths in the dirt and grime on his face. “Do you have any idea how I feel right now?”
Yuto was full on yelling now but he didn't care. The other soldier hiccuped and whimpered.
“I know how you feel. My father-”
“Your father? Your father what, was bravely shot down by a couple of Nazis?” Yuto pressed the barrel of his rifle harder into the soldier's forehead, making him wince.
“No, my father was shot in the head for abandonment,” the other soldier said. His voice was serious, and any proof of him crying was only in his eyes.
Yuto was taken aback. That wasn't the same as a brother getting shot, but goddamn. This guy was a real oddball. Yuto didn't know what to say.
The other soldier was breathing heavily from the tears, and the look in his eyes was one of pure, unadulterated guilt.
Yuto put his finger on the trigger, and pressed the barrel so hard into the soldier's head until he grunted in pain.
He should kill him now, for Yuta.
But he couldn't. Again. His finger was on the trigger and he was angry about Yuta’s death beyond belief, but he couldn't pull it. He couldn't shoot the bastard. Why couldn’t he shoot him?
“I understand if you shoot me, but please,” the soldier cautiously reached down to his pocket, and shakily pulled out a letter, holding it up to Yuto. “Please deliver this to my mother and brother. I don't trust the British army to do it if I die, and I'd rather someone competent hold on to it.”
Yuto looked at the letter, then back to the soldier's face. He was genuinely asking Yuto for a favour if he shot him. The look in his deep eyes was intense, and Yuto couldn't hold his stare anymore. He let out a breath and deflated, all anger and vengeance suddenly gone.
He lowered his rifle, and gestured the direction the other British soldiers had gone in. “Go,” he said.
The other man didn't move at first, his mouth was open in shock, and he looked at Yuto with wide, surprised eyes.
Yuto pointed at the woods again. “Go,” he said, more forcefully this time.
The soldier stood up slowly, tucking the letter back into his pocket, but didn't move from there.
Yuto sighed and lifted his rifle, pointing it at the soldier's chest this time. “I said go!” He yelled angrily.
The soldier jumped at Yuto’s outburst and ran off, looking over his shoulder one last time before he disappeared through the trees.
Yuto let out a heavy breath, and turned back to Yuta’s body.
This was going to be one of the longest walks back to base camp he'd ever had.
........
Yuto sputtered and coughed, folding in on himself as another kick hit his stomach. He felt his insides churn, the little oxygen he managed to get between kicks be forced out of his lungs with a whoosh. He’d been captured, and they weren’t treating him with any mercy.
At this point, it would be better if he were dead.
The American forces were overriding parts of Japanese territory, taking Yuto’s generals by surprise, and causing many of his comrades to resort to suicide rather than capture. But Yuto didn't believe in that.
He wasn't going to fight for four years just to put a bullet in his mouth. If he was taken prisoner, so be it. And then he was.
He had been shot in the leg, and fallen out of a tree blind to be surrounded by a bunch of angry Americans. None of them showed him any kindness, except for one. Yuto hadn't been sure what to think of the Asian-American soldier, but now he knew he was a fucking wimp.
The Asian-American soldier hadn't been like the attractive one Yuto had already met twice. He was bigger and stronger and spoke enough Japanese to be able to communicate with Yuto for his crapulent American general. When they'd brought Yuto to a camp, he translated for him, and lead him around for a less than exciting tour.
Yuto had began to think this soldier would get as comfortable with him as the other, cuter one, but nope. Americans didn't work that way apparently. Yuto was quietly sleeping in the wooden cubby they’d assigned him when shouting had woken him up, and he was haphazardly dragged out into the muddy centre square of the camp with the overseeing general following close behind.
“Yuto Adachi!” The crapulent general, whose voice Yuto’d already gotten tired of hearing, had yelled. Yuto rolled his eyes, and got to his feet before raising his hand in a mock salute.
“Yes, sir,” he’d said. He had leveled the crapulent general with a stare, and smirked at the anger his action had caused swelling in the man’s beet red face.
The general had huffed, turned around, shouted something at the nice-but-not-the-cute-one Korean soldier, and looked at Yuto again. Then he shouted, “Yuto Adachi, you have been disrespectful, uncooperative, and, in my opinion, a real pain in my ass. Sergeant Yang here,” he’d thrust his meaty finger toward the soldier, “is going to put you back in your place.”
Yuto had thought it would be okay to raise an eyebrow, and wink at the Korean soldier but no. The crapulent general’s nostrils had flared, and he’d brought his massive fist up to connect hard with Yuto’s face.
And that was how Yuto had ended up getting the shit beat out of him by the Korean soldier in the middle of a dingy, dilapidated prison camp.
Yuto felt his mouth fill with blood, and spit it out onto the mud as the soldier kicked him in the stomach again. Despite himself, Yuto began to laugh. He was a prisoner with a bullet in his leg and fighting for a losing country, and the general was afraid of him. Maybe he’d finally figured out who Yuto was.
He felt a sharp pain to the back of his head as someone -not the Korean soldier but some other soldier- kicked him, and the world shook. He had to close his eyes and wait for everything to stop spinning and the pain to dull as he groaned and pressed his nose into the mud.
Slowly, he regained his bearings, and brought his arms up to brace himself against the ground. The soldier stopped kicking him, and all he heard was the crapulent general chuckling a few feet away.
“Had enough, Adachi?” The general taunted. Christ, Yuto hated that man. If he could do anything he wanted right now, it would be castrating that lobster of an American with the rusty knife he used to shave his patchy ass beard with.
Yuto pushed himself up enough to spit the blood from his mouth and catch his breath. The Korean soldier didn't do anything, and stood back to wait for the general’s next orders. What a good little soldier he was, so unlike the attractive one Yuto couldn't stop thinking about.
“Yang! Hit him again,” the general shouted. Yuto saw the soldier move towards him and raise his leg, but before he could lower it for a kick to Yuto’s back, Yuto sat up, grabbed him by the foot. and twisted.
The soldier's eyes widened as he lost his balance and flipped down onto the mud beside Yuto.
Yuto glared at the general, “Actually sir, I have had enough.”
The crapulent general's eyes burned, and Yuto could have sworn he saw smoke come out of his ears. The general stormed towards him, holding Yuto’s glare as he grabbed him by the hair and pulled him into a standing position. Yuto felt the general’s breath on his face and nearly gagged at the smell of alcohol.
“Now you listen to me, you little son of a bitch,” the general said, his tone low with malice. He brought his pistol up, and thrust it against the bottom of Yuto’s chin as he cocked it. “ I run this fucking camp, you are a prisoner here, and you listen to what I say! You got that?!?” He shouted in Yuto’s face.
Yuto kept his smirk up, and didn't say anything. He refused to back down to the fires of fury burning in the general's eyes.
The general huffed, and threw him back on the ground before stalking off. “Yang! Take this motherfucker to the cages. Make sure he regrets ever crawling out of the sorry bitch he came from!” He shouted to the Korean soldier, who was still laying in the mud and looking at Yuto in disbelief.
Three days Yuto had been in that camp. Three days was all it took for him to piss off the man in charge and get the shit beat out of him.
He chuckled quietly to himself as Sergeant Yang picked him up off the mud, and half carried half dragged him to the far end of the camp.
“You shouldn't piss him off like that,” Yang said quietly in Japanese.
Yuto scoffed, glancing at him with his non-swollen eye. “Why not? He's an imbecile,” he mumbled.
Sergeant Yang sighed, and draped Yuto’s arm over his shoulder, hoisting him up so he could get his feet under himself to walk. “So what? Even if he can't kill you, he can sure as hell try.”
That made Yuto chuckle. Yeah, the American prison camps weren't allowed to outright kill the prisoners, but that bastard had the power to make Yuto wish he was dead.
They didn't say anything more as Sergeant Yang walked Yuto to a row of cages standing along the back wall of the camp, far away from the barracks, offices, and trees so there was no break from the burning sun on a clear day.
“Who’s this, Hongseok-hyung?” Someone asked in English. Yuto’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of the voice. That voice.
It was him. The attractive soldier who’d been haunting Yuto’s dreams. The soldier who’d killed his brother.
The soldier he couldn't kill.