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They were no different than ghosts. For decades they wandered the earth. Went where directed. Killed who was targeted.
She was made into a ghost. Given the task of handling HYDRA’s prized asset. Be his guide. His support. His eyes on the back of his head and above. Make sure missions are completed. Keep each other in check. Don’t stray from the directives.
палач. 망나니. The Executioner.
Those are the titles she is known by.
The thing about ghosts is, they were once people. They had lives. Families. Real names.
Many know his name, his true name, thanks to the history textbooks and his friendship with one of the most influential men of the century, but hers was unknown.
Her origins as a ghost started in 1951. The Korean peninsula. Outside what would later be the northern edges of Seoul, the capital city of the south.
But her story, the person she once was, started two decades earlier.
Shin Yoona grew up an only child. Born in 1931. She grew up in the north but her and her parents gradually migrated southward to escape the harsh winters, eventually landing in a seaside village towards the middle of the peninsula, north of the capital. She remembers running towards the bay with her friends when the weather would get hot. The sea air attacked her sense of smell every time she neared the beach.
As an only child, Yoona’s father had big hopes for her. Even if it was a male dominated field—martial arts—he enrolled her into a sword fighting dojo, a dojang, at a young age. An outdated practice. A sharp decline in popularity in these times, with the invention of guns there is less of a need for the world to bring blades into battles, therefore less of an interest in practicing the art. But her father found it something to be proud of nonetheless. And Yoona enjoyed attending her lessons with her other classmates.
The owner and instructor eventually moved to the capital city after the second world war so she had to travel long distances to continue the lessons. Crossing the thirty eighth parallel, blissfully unaware of how important that line of latitude would later become. Her parents worried every time she left home for the long trips though she assured them she could handle herself.
What she lacked in height, coming at a whopping 154 cm tall, she made up for in speed and stamina.
As she grew older she would take goods on her trips to sell or trade to bring money back home. Often stayed in the city alone for long periods of time.
Unrest only grew. Escalting into a civil war while the country was still healing from the last one. However, it did not stop her from traveling to the city, or more accurately northwest of the main city boundaries where the dojang was relocated once again, the main area where she would trade her goods. Her parents need the money. And they paid good money back then for her lessons. She doesn’t want to let their efforts go to waste, especially at such an unstable time like this. Though the capital has already gone through its third battle, back into the communists’ hands. It is extra risky to be so close to an active warzone. Then again, her whole country might as well be considered an active war zone.
The fateful day had a windy start. Her hair was in a bob coming a short length below her chin with bangs so it wasn’t irritatingly disrupting her field of view. She liked having it short. It made it easier to manage with the lifestyle she has. She had a shawl pinned closed over her clothes to protect from the winter temperatures. Boots littered with scuff marks from frequent use. Skin tanned by her constantly being outside. Nose and cheeks slightly flushed due to the chilly morning air. For physical protection, she always carries a wooden sword with her whenever she travels. Used primarily for the lessons at the dojang but also as a means of protection.
She was still several miles out from the outskirts of the capital. Nothing but bare trees, evergreens, dried grassfields, rolling hills, and the occasional farm in the distance.
So it easily catches Yoona’s attention when she spots a man standing on a rocky incline off the side of the path, gazing out into the distance with his back turned towards her. Black coat stark against the dried tans and browns of the backdrop surrounding him.
Interestingly, he is completely alone.
She places her bag of items to sell down on the dirt quietly, rolling her shoulders to rid of the strain.
The short moment of rest allows her to catch when a small folded up piece of paper flies out of his pocket, getting blown away without notice. She snatches it before it blows past her, looks at the crinkled paper, up at the tall stranger, then back to the paper.
Yoona decides to do the kind thing, go up and return the paper.
Her instructor and parents have always said she is light on her feet. Perhaps that is why the moment she taps the stranger's arm he takes out a knife and swings.
Oh how she regrets trying to do the kind thing.
"Jamkkanman!" She shouts, easily ducking the swipe. He aimed too high. “Jamkkanman-yo!”
He tries again. Is this man crazy?! She rolls on the ground to get behind him. She gets a glance at his face and realizes he is a foreigner. Since the war started, it has become less uncommon to see a foreigner roaming about.
A big man like him, the strength in her legs is her main defense. He is a tall man. However she can use her short height to her advantage.
She hits his arm at the elbow causing him to lose grip on the knife. With the opposite leg she kicks his side. In turn he swings with his left arm. She lets herself fall to the ground to avoid the hit. Scrambles to get behind him. Giving herself a moment to get up as he turns.
He throws punches which she either dodges or blocks by throwing her arms up just in time from his fists and arms to graze by. He must be left handed because his hits pack more of a punch with that arm.
Yoona spots the moment he glances towards his knife lying in the dirt to the side. He shoves her away to go after his weapon.
He is a skilled fighter, she'll give him that. She has the option to run in the complete opposite direction though he will probably give chase or throw the blade when her back is turned.
Besides, she needs to return the note.
Yoona runs and jumps onto the stranger's back as he bends down, puts her hands over his eyes.
“Please stop! You misunderstand.”
He grabs the back of her collar and her stomach flips, a yelp escapes her, as he throws her off and over his back.
She lands in a roll. Rocks dig and prod into her skin. She recovers to a quick stop, panting. Takes out her scabbard from her belt. Looks up in time to raise the scabbard to block the knife hurling through the air straight for her head.
What is with this man?! He is genuinely trying to kill her. Over a misunderstanding. What a way to sully her day.
At least he no longer has his weapon. Again.
And surprisingly he threw her pretty far away. He starts stalking towards her. She gets to her feet and runs to him. At the last second when she is right in front of him she makes use of her momentum to fall into a slide across the dirt in between his legs. Spinning around while remaining on her back she jabs the end of the scabbard into the small of his back and kicks as hard as she can on the back of his knee.
If Instructor Han could see her now, he would be simultaneously impressed and ashamed with her abnormal fighting methods. Aside from being quick on her feet around her opponent, none of what she is applying is from his direct teachings.
She honestly doesn't know what she's doing either. All she knows is she has to keep moving until an opportunity presents itself.
What is that opportunity, you ask? Who knows. She's never been in a fight like this before. One with real life or death stakes.
His knee folds in on itself. The man loses his balance. Falls forward. She launches her body shoulder first to fully push him to the ground. Man, she is out of breath, but she can't falter just yet. He turns over to lay on his back. Quickly she clambers on top of him. Firmly sitting on his stomach and pressing the end of the scabbard into his throat, effectively pinning him. She holds her other hand up in surrender as his left hovers in the air, a new knife pointed at her, right hand gripping the sheath.
“Not a threat. Calm down.”
At least he freezes. His heavy breathing and his wandering eyes tell her he is listening. Waiting for her next move. Slowly she reaches into her pocket and pulls out the paper.
"You lost this." She tells him.
His eyes narrow, wordlessly observing her for a moment more, and he flips his knife to point away from her. Uses his other hand to take the paper back.
Good. They are reaching a truce. She finally slips off his stomach. They both stand up. He begins patting the dirt off his clothes. She helps him with the dirt on his back. He stares incredulously at the short woman touching him.
"Joesonghabnida." She mumbles without noticing the look.
Technically she doesn't have to apologize. Correction. She shouldn't be the one apologizing. He attacked first. It is just in her nature to be polite. Their tussle got his clothes dirty. Hers were already patchy with dust—she washes them but it attracts dirt easily so she learned to be unbothered by her own appearance.
She takes this moment to really get a proper look at the man who tried to kill her. His dark brown hair is growing out. Falling in front of his blue eyes. About the length of her hand if she placed her fingertip on top of his scalp. Clean shaven. Pale complexion. His left hand, what little she can see of it, looks strange, she takes note. The boots, coat, and pants of a foreigner.
He was facing south. His paper has several addresses on it. He is dressed like a soldier as far as his pants and boots go under the brown fur lined black coat.
"Are you going to the big city as well?"
He hardly spares her a glance.
“Seoul. Goyang. Bucheon. It’s not too far from where I’m heading.“ Now that makes him perk up.
She doesn’t know exactly why she is attempting conversation with a man who tried to take her life but being courteous is another part of her personality. Besides, it was a misunderstanding. Now fixed. They should be amicable towards one another.
It wouldn't hurt to ask, is the point her kindness is trying to make to her wariness.
Usually soldiers learn the bare minimum of Korean to traverse the peninsula.
Faint recognition flashes through his eyes. “..Bucheon?” The mysterious man repeats.
“Yes it is down the road and then you turn left at the large split.”
He returns to the blank staring again.
Yoona’s lips press together at a new realization. "Can you understand Korean?"
She doesn't understand English though she can recognize the small bit of romanized alphabet writing at the top of the paper above all the hangul.
She switches languages, “Do you know Japanese?” She asks in Japanese. Having grown up in Japanese controlled Korea, it became her second language. She knows some foreign soldiers who participated in the Pacific theatre of the last war had learned Japanese. Perhaps this man is one of them.
Unfortunately, based on his blank expression, that is not the case.
“Are you lost?” Yoona inquires again in Korean.
Poor man. His superiors must have handed him a set of addresses without bothering to teach him the language first.
She decides to change tactics. Show him her words. She presses her pointer finger to his chest then holds two fingers down, then points to her own chest with her right hand and points two fingers down as well. Then she brings her hands side by side and wiggles her fingers to make it look like two people walking. “I take you to Seoul.” She says slowly.
He seems to get the idea. Nods at her. Showing he will be a willing co-traveler. Though the gloominess stays in his brows. She smiles, pleased. Gently, slowly, so he won’t freak out on her again, she grabs hold of his forearm and starts dragging him back to the path, much to his puzzlement. Slings her bag over her shoulder. Makes a comment about how jumpy he is which he doesn’t understand.
When they part ways Yoona waves goodbye, wishing him luck.
He turns his head to look at the neighborhood before him. Loiters in spot, having half the mind to end the girl’s life for being a witness as that is likely what his superiors would advise him to do. But when he turns around, the girl is already gone from sight. No sign she was ever there.
Quick and quiet on her feet.
– –
A flushed red hand, raw from sword practice, was held up in the air, blocking the cloud covered sun from her eyes.
Yoona has got the whole rest of the day ahead of her. With wrapped up leftovers in her bag, wooden sword sheath strapped to her sash, and energy to expend after concluding the training lesson at her instructor’s dojang, what is she to do the rest of the day?
Oh right she's got a few letters to deliver. Ah well…those can be postponed for a few hours. They're merely personal letters. Not anything urgent. She hopes.
Yoona brings her arm down. She sees in the distance a group of men all turn to follow a lone woman down the edge of the channel. How apparent they had devious intentions on their minds. “Freaks.” She mutters to herself. Yoona finds a few rocks by her feet, each about the size of her palm, estimates her ability and the distance, and gives them her best throw. One manages to impact on one of their backs. The group stops and frantically looks around. Yoona turns the other way, pressing her lips tightly together. Like it would help her stay more silent. Less visible.
Yoona peeks back after walking a few meters and sees the group has given up their pursuit of the lone woman to instead find the culprit behind the rock.
She giggles to herself, concealing her smile by bringing her hands up to warm with her breath.
She actually is proud of herself. A long distance, that was. Maybe she does have some strength in her arms after all.
Logically she knows she has arm strength. What else are the sword fighting lessons good for for a simple civilian like her if not to at least increase her arm muscles?
She looks down the other direction of the channel and sees a figure standing in the shadows underneath the elevated boardwalk. When her eyes adjust she recognizes it is the man she saw a few days ago. He looks to be reading a small pocket book. She frowns in confusion. With the clouds and the shadows, it would be difficult to read in the lack of brightness.
What is he doing all alone under the boardwalk?
Suddenly she gasps, remembering the extra food she has. The perfect excuse to go talk to him again. Language barrier be damned.
Ever since they crossed paths she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about him. How could she not, when she nearly had to fight him to the death? Alright that might be an exaggeration, but meeting him was certainly a highlight in her otherwise mundane week.
Staircases down to the channel are a ways away, back in the direction of the sleazy group of men. But a bridge across is just right there. Yoona runs across the bridge and stands on the platform above where the mystery soldier should be.
What an unusual thing she is about to do though it shouldn’t matter. Everyone should be minding their business. She hangs off the edge, using the wooden beams to get good footing, and pushes away.
She drops down with a grunt in front of him. Wiping her hands of the dirt and dust she straightens up to face him properly. “Annyeonghaseyo!”
For a moment the stranger is completely still. His demeanor does not show it but he was caught off guard by her unexpected appearance. The brooding in his expression lightens the slightest amount, remembering who is before him. Never did he think she would willingly approach him after their first encounter.
She tilts her head to read the book and page he is on. A homemade translation book for Korean to English. It looks worn. At least half a decade old.
“I see you have begun to learn my language. Soon enough we might just be able to talk with each other.”
Unable to reply, the man opens his coat to slide a pencil out of an interior pocket.
“May I come over there?” She gestures to herself and then the spot next to him. He doesn’t know how to answer, not solely because of the language barrier but because he is not supposed to respond back to anyone but his superiors, his mission doesn't involve holding a long conversation with anybody. So he wordlessly goes back to the translation book. Writing little notes. She takes that as an invitation.
She stands near him. Watching him curiously. Her focus drifts on his winter coat. The collar comes out revealing the thick fur layer inside. Very warm looking. It would be nice to own apparel like this for the freezing months.
Curious is the bit of his upper garment peeking out from the unbuttoned coat. It looks like there are many straps or buckles over the chest. Not like any soldier's uniform she is aware of.
Out of the corner of her vision she sees his head move. Her gaze flicks up and meets his stony one. She purses her lips. Realizes she has been caught staring.
Quick! Do something different!
“Oh!” Yoona rummages through her bag to pull out the leftovers. “My instructor gave me too much food to finish. So I shall give you half of it, if that is alright?”
She uses her knees to balance the bowl, portions the food half and half, handing the bowl to the mysterious soldier before he could have a chance to refuse while she keeps the portion on the lid.
“It is called Japchae. Sometimes we add dangmyeon or meats to it, but as things are not looking so bright, it is a bit hard to get our hands on the other ingredients, especially being so close to the capital.” Yoona scratches the back of her head sheepishly.
“You're a soldier. You probably need more food than this but this is all I can spare to you. Mianhae.” It won't matter too much if she is informal in her speech to him. He doesn’t know the language, he won't scold her, and besides, it's not like they are complete strangers to each other at this point.
She gets a few bites into her food and afterwards the soldier then is assured enough to begin eating his graciously offered portion with the utensils she gave him.
They haven’t given him rations. He is meant to fend for himself on the mission until completed.
Yoona tries to be nonchalant but she notices peeking out from under his coat, at his hips, guns in holsters. Unsurprising for a soldier. However, now she knows he has other weapons besides his dual knives. And he didn’t reach for the firearms the day they met and tussled. Huh.
It very much felt like he had intent to kill her at the time. He could have easily ended it sooner if he shot at her. So why didn’t he?
As if on que, sudden gunshots echo. Snapping Yoona out of her thoughts. Making her whole body jump. Several yelps from the streets above also sound out. The shots came from an unknown distance. Not near yet not too far either. Yoona fixes her gaze on the empty space to focus her hearing. The soldier next to her simply raises his head. Watchful eyes scanning the other side of the channel.
The neighborhood goes deadly silent. Everyone is trying to assess if the bullets will continue. If it is coming their way.
It has only been slightly over a month since ownership over the capital has been switched by force again. Active fighting is still common in the area and the surrounding neighborhoods.
At any moment, a regular civilian could stumble upon a fight they had no part of. Step into the wrong place at the wrong time. And be killed because of the simple mistake.
It has been a long harsh winter. She doesn't know what the future will bring but she holds onto hope. When the flowers and plants start blooming, change will come. It has to. The dark days will end eventually, one way or another.
A dismal thought crosses her mind.
Will she even get to see the spring?
What if she meets an untimely end?
“Why do you talk to me?”
The mystery man's sudden voice startles Yoona, “Hm?”
His shoulders sag remembering the language barrier is still too great to be able to understand one another yet.
Yoona spares another moment to allow him the chance to continue. The mysterious soldier keeps his mouth shut.
“I should probably go. You must have work to do. I'll see you around perhaps. Enjoy the japchae.”
Nearly half an hour later, when she abashedly remembers she left the soldier with the food container, she goes back to the spot under the boardwalk. He is no longer there but balancing on a horizontal support beam is the container, emptied, and utensils placed on the rim of the bowl.
– –
Yoona rolls her left shoulder. During a sparring match with her fellow student she pulled a muscle in her upper arm. It is now evening and she still feels the ache.
Now that she is on her temporary stay in the capital she is sent on errands for her instructor and other adults she is acquainted with. When she is available. She doesn’t mind. It is good exercise. And sometimes, it earns her extra pocket money.
The errands can range from going a few streets over to clear across town.
Breaking through the stillness of her surroundings, a figure walks out from the alley shadows in front of her. An unfamiliar man. When she tries side stepping he mirrors her. Purposely not letting her pass. She takes a step back and hears footsteps coming up behind her. More men show up.
No one else around but them and her.
Just her luck.
“You. Weren't you the one who threw a rock at me days ago?”
When in doubt, feign innocence. “I don't know what you are talking about, Adjussi?”
Under the moonlight he looks familiar. He must be part of two different groups of hooligans. Or maybe they are one big group.
“I think I deserve an apology.”
The group of men start closing in.
Her body stiffens. She’s in trouble now. “I'm warning you. Back off.” Yoona places her hands on the hilt of her wooden sword, eyes darting to each opponent. She is outnumbered and significantly shorter than half of them. Running could be an option, but not at the current moment. She doesn’t think she can slip away fast enough with the distance between them as it is. A fight it is.
This is real. Don't hesitate.
One man lunges at her and she quick-draws her sword, ramming the hilt into his abdomen. He doubles over and she spins around his side, making eye contact with the next target while aiming low to hit the side of his knee. As expected he bends over so Yoona lifts her leg to kick him off balance.
She is quick with her movements. Landing hits with her sword.
She knows she can't defeat them with just a wooden sword. Her hope was to create an opening for her to flee but soon enough that is squandered.
One man manages to grab a fistful of her short hair. Immediately she is immobilized. Someone knocks her word out of her hand. Yoona tries digging her fingers into her captor’s pulse points at his wrists to make him let go. Scratching where she can. In turn the man yanks her hair rougher causing her to yelp. With his other arm he holds her close against his front.
“You bitch. You'll pay for—” His threat gets interrupted when a fist shoots out from the alleyway shadows and collides with his head.
Everyone watches in shock as the blow sends him falling sideways, instantly rendered out cold. Yoona is sent tumbling down away from him, massaging her scalp, also unsure of what just happened.
“Who’s there?!”
Out walks a man dawned in black. Moving at a sluggish pace in front of the young woman on the ground. Empty blue eyes pierce through the shadows and messy strands of hair over his face. Glaring down each hooligan. Unwavering. Unblinking. Unfeeling.
A haunting soul.
The gang members hesitate, shuffling in place, before one member of the group bravely pushes his buddy to face the man who knocked their leader down in one hit.
Within the minute the newcomer takes down each one of them. Rendering them unconscious. Normally he would kill them. That was an order. No witnesses. Though part of him thinks the girl wouldn't be appreciative if he does so.
Dirt shuffles behind him. The woman he keeps seeing around rises to her feet with her mouth open, brushing off the dirt from her clothes.
What does that make her then? He asks himself.
She brushes her frazzled bangs to the side—getting dirt on her cheek—blinking exaggeratedly a few times, as if what she was seeing is just a hallucination. “You saved me?”
He raises to his full height, turning halfway to her. The cold aura about him doesn't falter. Shockingly, her smile only grows wider. She assumes it is not directed at her. It isn't. And that only confuses him more. Why does this woman seem so happy to see him? Is he not clearly a threatening presence? Why is a part of him glad to see her again? He doesn’t know her.
“It is official. I like you, Mister. I shall call you my dongmu.” She can now officially say that her opinion on the man who tried to kill her on their first meeting has changed to a positive one.
Her fast switch to a bright attitude is astounding. Acting like she wasn’t about to be robbed. Or worse.
The soldier turns away. Walks down the empty road without so much as a word. Yoona hurries after him. Slows to match his pace. He spares her a side glance and does not refute her presence.
Without wasting a moment, her mouth is off to yapping. “I didn't realize you were so strong. I mean-I know you're a soldier but you knocked that man down in one hit. Impressive.” And he took on six men without using weapons.
“One day I would like to be able to hold my own like that, though I might not make much of an opponent if I'm not using a weapon. A real one, that is.”
He wonders how she sounds so energetic at night.
“I’ve mostly practiced with a sword. My instructor has a few real metal swords to use and I’ve used them for a few years now, only in the dojang. But sometimes we have used long wooden staffs, so if I ever come across a woldo I think I will be quite formidable in using it too.” She half jokes with a smirk.
She has so many words to share with him. She asks questions knowing there likely won’t be an answer given, like how did he happen to come across her earlier. What are the chances that the moment she is in trouble she can’t get out of, her mysterious soldier shows up.
Occasionally he glances over his shoulder to check if they are being followed. Watched. By the ones more dangerous than street thugs. Yoona is none-the-wiser. Her walk and attitude is eased and mistakenly carefree compared to the soldier’s stiff, drilled, vigilant presence.
The ease comes from knowing she is safe with her new friend by her side.
Eventually, Yoona comes to a stop in the middle of the road and the strange soldier finds himself stopping beside her.
“Thank you for saving me earlier. And thanks for walking me back. You didn't need to, I'm sure you're tired.”
He finds he is recognizing more words she is saying but not enough to correctly respond to her.
“Annyeonghi jumuseyo.” She points to the moon then pressing her hands against the side of her head in a sleeping gesture to show what she means.
“...Goodnight.” He replies hesitantly, voice soft, like he is afraid to be heard.
She waves him goodbye and practically skips down the road entering the dojang with the lone lantern lit over the front door.
He didn't realize part way through walking together he absentmindedly started taking her lead and basically escorted her to presumably her abode.
Why did he do that?
– –
Yoona saw her strange soldier friend twice in the distance after that night's encounter with the robbers. The second time they made eye contact across the way, her walking down the street and he posed behind a building corner, trying to be inconspicuous. She smiled widely and waved at him as she went by. Clearly they were both busy so she did not go to talk to him that day.
The next time they did meet face to face was when she, her fellow training classmate, her instructor, and her instructor’s daughter went to the city outskirts to visit a longtime friend of her instructor.
The friend had just gotten his hands on a brand new camera. He is very into taking photos. Yoona remembers he came around years ago at the old studio up north because instructor Han wanted to have the dojang and his class of students immortalized in photo form. He wanted to take pictures so he invited his friend over, which Instructor Han decided to make a day out of it instead of holding up again in the dojang.
“Making a record of our lives in this era will be important for the future. Photos are an excellent way to tell the story.” Said the friend.
Instructor Han crosses his arms over his chest. “Since when were you so poetic? You just want to test out your new camera, don't you?”
“You got me there.”
Yoona was admiring the small bush of tiny flowers outside the friend's household when movement in the top corner of her vision grabs her attention. Her mouth drops open. She raises to her full height. “Hey, it's that man. The soldier I told you about.” She points out for the group.
All heads turn to the darkly dressed man a ways down the dirt road walking slowly in their direction. Eyes glued to a paper in his hand.
Her instructor frowns in thought, “He seems gloomy.”
Yoona shrugs, “What soldier wouldn't be?”
His pace was not at all hurried. She deduces he shouldn't be too busy for a moment.
“I am going to bring him here.” Yoona runs off from the group down the road before anyone could protest.
“Annyeong dongmu!” She greets cheerfully.
His wearied blue eyes lift from the paper.
“Come over. Meet my sword training instructor.” She slinks her arm into the bend of his and the young woman drags the soldier to the front where the group was waiting.
He couldn’t refuse. Simply because he has no reason to. He just completed surveillance. He is supposed to lay low until a new directive is handed.
Everyone turns as they approach. A few get surprised. Yoona is a shorter than average woman but normally her height difference is not too noticeable around the local population. However, seeing her stand next to the soldier she met makes her look so small.
The difference in their demeanor is another point of stark contrast.
One scanning each of them up and down like he coldly is assessing threats and the other proudly beaming like she just led a stray puppy to her home.
Instructor Han smiles warmly, “Ah, so this is the fellow who saved you. What is your name, young man?”
The soldier practically glares openly at the middle aged instructor, keeping quiet.
Yoona answers in his stead, “He doesn’t understand Korean yet.”
Her instructor’s daughter purses her lips together, “Oh, then...You’ve said you’ve met with him three or so times before?” Pure confusion on her face.
“I have.”
Everyone is trying to do mental math. “...Then how have you talked to him if he can’t understand you?” Yoona’s fellow student asks.
Yoona chuckles to herself thinking back on their past moments. “I don’t know. I haven’t really waited for him to give an answer to my questions. I simply do and he goes along with it.” She attempts to make a light jest knowing how crazy it sounds. “Perhaps me and him are destined to connect on a level that surpasses language barriers.”
Instructor Han and his daughter look ready to give Yoona a lecture about strangers—like she isn’t a twenty year old woman aware of dangers in the world—when her instructor’s friend claps his hands together. “Great! We can all take a photo together. Everyone, line up.”
Yoona leads her mystery man to stand on the far left of the group. She steps up onto a rock roughly matching his height, and places her arm to lean on his shoulder.
He has his apprehensions. Tries to convey them through his eyes when he looks at Yoona as everyone shuffles around. His superiors never mentioned anything like this could be possible on this mission. He is unsure how to react. Yoona offers him a reassuring half smile. Presses a finger to her cheek. Gesturing him to smile. He turns to the camera but doesn’t smile right as the photo is taken.
Given the go ahead to relax, Yoona turned to gander at the landscape beyond the property. Behind them is a valley patched with dried farm fields. Trees and bushes in the yard with bare branches. Usually Yoona would find the lack of the bright colors in nature in the winter months to be a melancholic sight. Instead, after the stress the war around them brings, seeing it is peaceful scenery. No sign of disarray.
She can almost trick herself into thinking her home isn't in turmoil.
“The photos may take a few days to develop.”
Her instructor starts asking his friend more about the camera.
Yoona’s classmate and her instructor’s daughter began asking her questions of the mysterious soldier beside her. She hides nothing albeit she can't answer much with the little information she has. But this man saved her. So her words paint him in a good light.
Her friends kept hold of their skepticism, though the stranger hasn’t done anything wrong, as far as they are aware. His utter silence is offputting.
She hears her soldier friend's breath subtly hitch causing her to look up at him. His eyes were focused down the road. He was taking small steps retreating back.
Two patrolling soldiers were walking in their direction, talking to a neighbor further down.
She doesn't know what exactly drove her to protect him.
“Here, let’s go inside.”
Her hand grabbed onto his coat sleeve and gently tugged him to follow her inside the hanok. She began giving him a short tour. Playing it off. Bringing him deeper inside the residence. Away from the front windows.
As predicted, the soldiers stopped in front of the home to ask the four people outside some questions. She could catch some words muffled by the wall.
The soldiers inquired if they had at any point this morning seen a foreign man, possibly armed, traveling this way.
Her eyes slide over to the unnamed mystery man leaning against a wall, out of sight from the windows, also intently listening to what was being said.
Yoona’s acquaintances ask what the man has done. The soldiers answer that the individual may have killed or witnessed the killing of three people the other night. A witness claimed he spotted a person matching the unreliable description of the culprit in the area.
Yoona taps her fingers against her thigh, contemplating.
Her mysterious friend's eyes drift up to meet hers. His demeanor is uptight. Waiting. Preparing himself. Like he is expecting any moment for her to burst out and alert the soldiers of him. Her expression falls. She stays quiet. Completely still in her spot on the perpendicular wall.
Instructor Han spoke first, denying having seen a man matching the description. His friend followed his lead. They trust Yoona’s judgement. They saw her hide her friend. She wouldn't befriend a cold blooded killer.
The soldiers moved on to continue their search.
– –
Fate decided to let the two meet one more time under peaceful circumstances. Around evening.
As the sun was setting on another chilly cloud-covered day, the Soldier defeated the last of a group of targets. He only noticed the first snowflakes of the storm above were falling when they landed on the still body, the dark hair of the last man, last opponent, last victim of the group. A gun was fired only a couple of times in the altercation, but that was enough to draw attention to the area, so he moved swiftly through the narrow and dark alleys, across the empty streets, using the shadows of his cover.
Luckily many people head indoors when the silent storm picks up. He slows his pace down once he is a reasonable distance from where the fight occurred. The Soldier takes out his knife, still covered in blood, out of its holster. He fishes a rag out of a pocket in his trenchcoat. Cleans the weapons as he walks.
In the late evening hours, flurries of snowflakes falling soundlessly over the city, Yoona finds her mysterious friend once again down a lone alley. Turning a corner in her direction. Occupied with checking his weapons. Wiping the blade of his knife clean with a spare cloth.
She marches right up to him, no fear, and greets him quietly so as to not spook him. She knows first hand how jumpy he can be.
Snowflakes stick to her hair and clothes. She blinks away those sticking to her lashes.
Him stopping in front of her instead of continuing past is her greeting returned. As always he doesn’t speak much. He sheathes the knife before Yoona could get a good look at it but that allows Yoona’s attention to flicker to the bloodied rag before he stuffs it away too.
She is not completely ignorant. She is very aware this man could have killed people in the past. Could have killed people recently. After all, he is a soldier. It would be difficult finding a soldier who hasn't shot at someone in this war yet.
It is what they are ordered to do. Many did not choose to be here. War takes many victims and leaves many of them alive after the last battle.
But this soldier here is not a maniac. He had chances to hurt her and he hasn’t. He has no reason to listen to her, to allow her to stay around, yet he never pushes her away. She sees in the tiny details of his expressions. The sadness, the darkness, the small bit of light that returns to his eyes.
If she is able to make one person’s life a bit brighter simply by spending time with them, especially a soldier like her mystery soldier before her, so far from his homeland, oceans away from anyone he knows, then that is enough to make her day brighter in return. In times like these, spreading even a little positivity can make a big difference. It surely does for her.
The snowfall continues to come down harder. Judging by the dusting over the ground, any snow that falls overnight will likely be melted in the morning. Still, the flakes are getting into their eyes, so Yoona suggests they wait until the snowfall lessens together.
She takes a seat under an eaves, jutted out just enough to provide shelter. Props her wooden sword on the wall by her side. Pats the spot on her left. Her expression is serene. Inviting. Too kind. The soldier debates for a few moments before conceding. He sits next to her leaving a forearm's width of space between them.
Without words they gaze at the quiet snowfall.
His folded legs don’t quite make it under the shelter of the roof eave. The toes of his boots are collecting snow dustings. He doesn’t move from his spot.
“I never asked you, what is your name?”
It takes him a moment to answer—which to her joy, he does.
“Zimniy Soldat.”
Oh, she wasn't expecting that level of difficulty. “Chi-shi…ni..Sold…Can I just call you Sol?” Short, easy to pronounce, memorable nickname. And it sounds similar to Seoul, the city she practically met him in.
“Sol?”
“Mn.” She's proud of that nickname.
His eyes flicker around her face, searching for something, before turning away. She'll take that as acceptance of the nickname. Yoona angles herself to face Sol more directly. Pats her own chest.
“I am…Shin Yoona.”
He turns back to her and for the first time, she watches as his expression lightens to not have any hint of anger or the hardness of war. He is calm. His shoulders have relaxed. They are two people, sitting under a roof, learning each other's names.
How was she to know this name will later spark fear into all those who heard it? How was she to know it wasn't his actual name?
Yoona wouldn't learn his true name until decades after this moment.
– –
Yoona insisted it would be no hassle. A night jog across the neighborhoods is simple enough for someone as accustomed as her in long distance travel.
She was making one last delivery for the night for her instructor’s daughter. She was given the money to buy a nice new garment for her. The young lady was planning on getting married soon. Even in a hectic time like this. Everyone was excited. Yoona offered to go grab it for her from the tailor. It was not a proper wedding outfit but it was still important.
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until she was on the route back to the dojang.
Normally when there are sounds of a brawl happening, especially at this late hour, Yoona would act like any other person and march swiftly in the opposite direction. What purpose does she have to get involved? Whether it is between soldiers or civilians.
The one thing that stopped her from fleeing was the voice. The voice of her new companion. Sol. Shouting at someone. Exclaiming in pain. He hasn’t spoken many words to her since they met yet instantly her brain recognizes his unique(to her) vocal tone echoing from a few alleys over.
Despite her instincts and conscience saying turn the other way—he is a soldier for crying out loud he can handle himself—she quietly makes her way over. Sneaks. Takes cover and peeks behind crates and boards piled up in a side alley.
Sol is in the middle of a fight with another young man. Dressed in foreign soldier attire. They match each other in speed and strength. Landing punches on one another. Fresh blood reflects the moonlight, dripping in thin streams down both their heads.
Judging by the other individual's uniform, he is an American soldier. Yoona pays less attention to him.
Sol does not have on his winter coat. He is wearing all black clothing which makes one strange very visible detail stand out all the more in the moonlight. There is something very unusual with Sol's left arm.
It is only when the American soldier literally breaks Sol’s left arm in half does she realize the truth behind its oddity.
It is a metal arm.
How in the world?!
Jagged metal and snapped wires create the opening of the broken arm. The other half lying on the ground away from him, closer to her side of the street.
Aside from the material, it is shaped like a real human arm.
And that sends her mind for a spin.
His arm has always been so real. He's almost always wearing a glove over his left hand. How could a fake arm be made to look so realistic? She has never seen a prosthetic so uncanny.
Sol is kneeling on the ground supported by his elbow, panting heavily. The American soldier is talking to him. He doesn’t receive an answer from Sol. And so the American pulls out a gun and walks towards Sol.
Her mouth drops silently open.
He’s going to kill Sol.
Yoona makes a split second decision. One that will upend her life forever.
She runs out into the street in between the two men. She holds her arms in front of her to the American soldier.
“Miss, please, back away. This man is dangerous.” He speaks in broken Korean.
She kneels in front of Sol, arms spread out, blocking the soldiers from each other. She stands no chance against the American soldier. Not with his size. Not with that gun in his hand.
“Don’t kill him.” Yoona begs softly.
Sol’s head snaps up, recognizing her voice. He stares up through the hair falling in front of his face. Confusion and a new emotion, worry, flashes through his mind.
What is she doing here?
“Ma’am you don’t know what he’s done. A criminal. A killer. Too dangerous to live.” The American soldier is not happy to do this either, but he is not backing down.
Yoona’s resolve sags a little.
She would like to think she has a decent judge of character. To be able to figure out how good a person is. Upon meeting her strange soldier, she thought he is a lost lonely man, hopefully a good man, forced to do things he has no choice but to do. That he is a man who simply needs a companion. A kind presence in this lonesome time.
Alas, Sol is still a stranger to her.
She doesn’t know him.
“Why him? Who are you?”
“My name is Isaiah. I’m here to—”
Before anything else could happen, Sol moves quicker than either of them could react. He threw a knife over Yoona’s shoulder with such force it knocked Isaiah’s gun out of his hand. Sol decks Isaiah in the face then lands a kick on his abdomen sending him rolling a few feet away.
Sol gets the gun and raises his arm up to aim. Yet two small hands wrap around his wrist, pulling. His finger pulls the trigger yet due to Yoona’s intervention, the bullet scrapes by the American soldier’s leg. He falls to his knee clutching the wound.
The sound of the gun fired at close range disorients Yoona. Her ears ring. Her heart leaps to her throat. She tugs harder, deafly exclaiming they need to run.
Sol lets himself be dragged away.
At some point, the bag containing the garment for Instructor Han's daughter had slipped from Yoona’s shoulder. Left abandoned and forgotten in the street.
Yoona knocks over everything in the alley to try to create as large of a gap between them and the American soldier. Crates, brooms, baskets. A small part of her feels bad for the mess she's creating. She leads Sol to the next street over, makes a sharp left turn running down until she finds the first open entrance. Quick thinking has her grab the first small object she sees and chuck it down an alley across the street. She pulls Sol into an empty shop. Sliding into the shadows. Holding their breath.
They crouch close next to each other in the cramped space. She has a finger to her lips, listening intently, trying to be as quiet as possible. To his credit Sol goes dead quiet in spite of the pain he's in. His eyes go to the silhouette form of the young woman curled up close to him. Barely able to see one another while being mere inches away.
His chest pangs with a guilty feeling. Something he shouldn't experience.
If viewed from a different angle, this is the closest he has gotten to a hug since…he can't remember.
They hear Isaiah walking past outside. Heading down the alley he heard the noise. Only once he's gone does Yoona take Sol's hand and lead him outside, taking off in a run in the opposite direction to get her friend as far from the threat as possible.
It is an idiotic decision. Risking her life to save a soldier she doesn't know the past of. Risk getting detained and punished for assisting a possible criminal.
But she would like to think that, for a fleeting moment, she saw the real man behind the soldier. A man lost in a far away country, forced to follow orders, surrounded by strangers. A man who walked her safely to the dojang after a fight listening to her ramble on and on. A man who took time out of his day to watch the snowfall with her. Letting the snow cover the front of his boots so he can still sit beside her under the sloping eaves.
Is it so bad of her to want to help someone?
They slow down once they're on the north end of the city. The moon is bright tonight. The streets are empty. Nobody saw them leave the city.
Given the large height difference she can’t exactly support his weight around her shoulder so she has to hold onto his arm as he braces his hand on her left shoulder.
Eventually for his sake they stop under a large pine. He takes a seat slipping down the trunk. She squats in front of him taking out her water bottle, offering it to him. Frowning because she realizes too late she left the delivery behind.
His eyes flicker from the bottle to the kind girl who helped him escape. He tries to find her sincere eyes under the shadows her bangs hang over her face.
Instead of accepting the drink, he uses words. “Why are you helping me?”
“H-help?” She shakily pronounces. She’s heard that English word before. What's the translation? What's the translation? Oh.
She places her hand on her chest, “Nae dongmu.” She points to him.
His jaw tightens. Of the many Korean words he has flipped through, he recognizes what that translates to in English. Searched for it after the first time she called him that.
“I…help…dongmu.” Yoona affirms, shaking the bottle she is still holding in front of him.
He gives in, taking the bottle, having a small sip.
“Leave. This is not your fight.” He says handing the bottle back to her.
Yoona assists him to his feet.
“You shouldn't follow me.”
They continue down the rural road. She mentions one additional thing he is not able to mentally translate. She doesn’t ask it again, not needing an answer.
“It is dangerous if you keep following me. Go back. Go home.”
His words go in and out of untrained ears.
In any other situation, her determination would be admirable.
Now, however, he can only think of it as naive and frustrating.
It is foolish to help a stranger like him after what she witnessed, no matter what name she calls him by.
Yoona thinks the reason for his protests is he is getting annoyed at her. She marches forward. Local doctors might be inclined to refuse treatment for the fact Sol is an unknown foreign soldier. Since he is a soldier, he must have a base nearby. She is determined to get him to a military base so his broken prosthetic and other injuries can be treated. She is seeing this through to the end.
Minutes go by with nothing but their laboured breathing and the natural sounds of the night, so it becomes noticeable when the distant sound of human voices breaks through the trees to their ears. Yoona stops them in the middle of the path, listening intently. The voices are heading towards them. She tries making out what they are saying to determine if they are civilians or soldiers. And if they would be allies with Sol. The last thing she would want to do after all this effort would be to lead her injured friend directly to his enemies.
Unfortunately, in hindsight, that is exactly what she did, but neither of them fully came to realize who the enemies were until six decades in the future.
In the moment of stillness, Sol sees her distracted and takes his chance.
He pushes Yoona away and aims his pistol at her. The way her face falls makes his heart sink. He needs to get her to leave before it is too late.
Her focus goes back and forth between the gun and Sol's face. “I thought we were past this?”
“Go.”
She shakes her head, adamant on her original plan. “I help dongmu?”
“Go.” His voice wavers. “...please.”
Suddenly shouting from further up the roads sounds out and grows louder. Both heads turn towards the source to see multiple gunmen running towards them.
Sol instantly puts away his gun in favor of grabbing Yoona and pushing her to stand behind him. Shielding her.
Korean soldiers run and form a half circle in front of them. Shouting various things. To each other. To the one armed soldier. He is having difficulty understanding them. They do seem to recognize him though. He knows they are from the base. It is Yoona that has got them on edge.
In spite of the threats all around her, Yoona peeks her head out from behind Sol. “Please, he is hurt. You need to help him.”
“You don't get to make demands. You shouldn't be here.”
“It wasn't a demand…asshole.” She angles her head down, murmuring the insult under her breath.
“Get rid of her.”
One soldier starts pushing forward, getting into an angle to shoot Yoona. Sol acts fast. Takes out the handgun once more and aims it at the soldier who freezes in his steps. Now the yelling is directed at him.
He keeps thinking he shouldn't do this. He shouldn't anger the superiors. Yet he can't seem to find it in himself to lower the pistol so they can put a bullet in the woman's skull.
Yoona’s panic could not rise any higher. “Don't shoot! Don't shoot! Please! You're outnumbered!” She desperately tries telling Sol, her hands scrambling to reach his wrist, not stupid to try and yank his arm down, but to hint at what she is pleading.
There are more guns aimed at them with automatic firing. Luck is not in his favor if he starts a shootout.
To her relief, Sol’s finger hovers over the trigger, but never pulls back.
One Korean soldier goes to the base to bring out a superior from Siberia. It takes thirty seconds for them to arrive. Yoona tenses up and recognizes the man coming forward with a scowl that could give Sol a run for his money is in Russian military apparel.
“Soldat, why did you bring this woman here?”
He responds in broken Russian to his superior, “You wanted another Soldier, I found your candidate.” He couldn’t think of another response that would spare her life.
Yoona does a double take. Soldat…isn't part of his name? It’s a title?
What did she get herself into?
The Russian superior scowls at the young lady cowering. “She is a woman. And look at her. She is tiny. Most importantly, a witness. You should have killed her.” He berates his prized soldier.
…she is my friend.
“I tried, and yet she was able to outmaneuver me.” No one has done that before, not without getting seriously injured first.
This may be one of the Soldier’s first missions, but he has proven to be a valuable fighter in his training and past missions. He doesn’t just simply lose a fight in hand to hand combat.
The Russian superior spends a few moments in consideration. Jaw setting from the frustration at his defective asset. Then he orders a Korean soldier in Russian while pointing at Yoona before walking away without another word, sending a scowl directed at Sol.
Sol straightens out at his words. A heavy feeling sets in his chest.
“Alright. Prove your worth, woman.” One of the Korean soldiers said. He nods in Sol’s direction. “Fight him.”
“Eh?” She looks at him like he is missing a head.
“He says you bested him before, so do it again.”
“Why would you—”
“Soldat, attack her.”
Sol turns around slowly. Yoona takes a few small steps back as for every step he takes towards her. He takes out one of his knives.
Regret flashes through his tired expression which she catches sight of before he launches into the fight.
They fight. It is nothing remarkable except for how fast the small woman moves around the Soldier, evading his attacks, using her wooden sword to hit vital parts, making him stutter just enough to stop what would be fatal blows dealt to her. Many small cuts land on her body. It ends with Yoona somehow getting hold of Sol’s knife and stabbing him right below the diaphragm. Her hands are shaking. Her breathing stops. She didn't mean to actually stab him.
He falls down to one knee. Yoona panics. Apologizes spill out of her mouth. Her hands hovering over the wound and his face. She sees the blood. Scared out of her mind. Has she fatally wounded him? Did she kill her friend? She's never killed a person before.
At some point, several other Russian personnel had come out to witness the fight. Another general being one of the audience.
The Korean superior huffs, surprised at the outcome. “He speaks the truth. HYDRA will do well to train them both.”
The second general frowns, “Sloppy work. But you completed your mission, Soldat. You and this girl are going to head back to Siberia first thing tomorrow. You’ll get your arm repaired and she will get the remainder of the serum there.”
Two personnel come up behind Yoona and pull her away from Sol to take her to her temporary room in the base until a plane arrives. Others come walking towards him but he keeps his eyes set on the receding form of his terrified friend. His vision starts to get blurry. The last thing Sol says to her before she leaves, in a raspy grunt, is
“Mianhae.”
Having realized his mistake. He led her to the same horrific life he lives.
Her wide panicked eyes stay in the forefront of his thoughts long after she disappears into the shadows of the underground bunker.
Maybe it would have been more merciful to let them kill her.