Archive of Our Own

Nineteen year old Lee Seokmin smiled at the mirror, and a man smiled back at him. He reveled in how mature he looked as he put on his police uniform for the first time. He looked taller, and his shoulders looked broader in the midnight blue fabric. The deep hue brought out the glow of his golden tan skin. His grin grew wider. He looked good.

Seokmin’s chest bore a glittering gold badge with with the city crest on it, and just below it, a name badge was pinned to the fabric of his uniform. Lee Seokmin, Special Operations Officer, Unit V.

It took a grueling two years of training at the military police academy, as well as an additional seven months of special training for Seokmin earn his badges. At last he could call himself a protector of the city, one of the many brave men and women who kept its citizens safe. Yesterday he was just a kid, a trainee. Tomorrow he would be a man.

A sudden sharp knock on the door startled Seokmin, and he stopped admiring himself in the mirror. He sprinted to answer the door, hoping that he would find his future roommate on the other side. According to the sign posted outside their room, Seokmin would be sharing a bunk bed with someone named Lee Jihoon .

The door swung open before Seokmin had a chance to reach it. His bright, excited grin faltered when he saw the boy standing on the other side. He looked impossibly young—fourteen, maybe fifteen years old.

For a moment, Seokmin wondered if the boy was a cadet in training who wandered over to the wrong dorm building by accident. And then Seokmin's line of vision slid from the boy's dainty face to the name badge pinned to his chest. Lee Jihoon, Special Operations Officer, Unit V – Leader .

"Excuse me," Jihoon said firmly in an unexpectedly low voice. His voice had a pleasantly rough scrape to it too, but Seokmin was too shocked to notice it more than peripherally.

When Seokmin still didn't say anything or move out of the doorway, Jihoon made a little irritated noise in the back of his throat, and he stormed past Seokmin with his rolling suitcase in tow.

Finally finding his voice, Seokmin said, "I'm Seokmin! I'm your roommate from now on. We're in the same special operations unit. You're the leader of it, apparently!"

"Yes, I know," Jihoon said shortly as he efficiently unpacked all of his belongings with quick, small hands. "Top bunk or bottom bunk?"

"I'm fine with either!”

"I'm taking the bottom bunk then," Jihoon decided.

"Go for it!"

Jihoon sat on the edge of his bed and let out a weary sigh. It was the sigh of someone who had endured many hardships for a long time. Seokmin could tell that he was exhausted, tired to his bones. Jihoon had appeared childlike at first glance, but there seemed to be a much older soul contained in that tiny frame of his.

"How old are you, Jihoon?" Seokmin asked, suddenly curious.

"Twenty."

Seokmin's eyes widened comically in surprise. He knew that Jihoon had to be older than fourteen or fifteen, but he hadn't expected Jihoon to be older than him. "How long have you been in the military police?"

Jihoon frowned for a moment as he ticked back the years in his head. "Five years in training, three years in service. This would my second year as a special operations leader."

"Wow, that's so cool ! You must have had so many cool experiences! What's it like being in a special ops team? What's it like being the leader of one?"

Before Jihoon even had a chance to answer, Seokmin barrelled on with more questions. "I went through seven months of special ops training, but they didn't even tell me what it was all for! I always thought it was just for a fancy title, but I heard rumors that special ops units get to go on missions outside of city walls! Is that true?"

"You'll see," Jihoon answered darkly in a way that thrilled Seokmin as much as it scared him.

Sensing that Seokmin was the type who could easily be baited, Jihoon said, "Special ops officers perform all the duties of regular officers, but only the bravest ones get to go on dangerous missions."

"I am brave!" Seokmin boasted immediately.

It was obvious to Jihoon that Seokmin had something to prove. Jihoon could read people like a book.

"How brave?"

"Very brave!"

"You'll have to be braver than that if you want to be in the V Unit."

"What do the unit letters stand for?" Seokmin asked, remembering the letters he saw on the badges of other officers in his graduating class. He saw several boys with V Unit badges, a few with P Unit, and a couple with H Unit.

"Each special ops unit has a name, chosen by its leader. We just ended up shortening it to the first letter on the badges," Jihoon explained. "You've seen Officer Seungcheol and Officer Soonyoung before, right?"

Seokmin nodded. The two senior officers had taught Seokmin and the other trainees many drills. Jihoon continued, "Seungcheol leads the Honor Unit, and Soonyoung leads the Pride Unit."

"And what does V stand for?"

Jihoon's lips curled in a tiny, kitten-like grin, accompanied by two sweet little dimples that appeared above the corners of his lips. A strange thing happened to Seokmin's stomach at the sight of Jihoon's unexpectedly lovely smile.

"Valor," he answered simply.

When it was time for dinner, Seokmin followed Jihoon to the officers' mess hall. Jihoon moved surprisingly quickly for someone his size. He walked with deliberate, purposeful strides that made it clear he knew where he was going. Seokmin trotted behind him, glancing around the unfamiliar halls in a way that made it clear that he was only following Jihoon's lead and had no idea where he was going.

The bland cafeteria food was more or less the same as the slop Seokmin had been served as a trainee. However, the dining experience was a vast improvement due largely to the company that surrounded him. Just the night before, Seokmin had eaten dinner with a group of trainees who only talked about their uncertainties—if their training period would be finished anytime soon, if they would even be able to endure another day of harsh training, if they would ever make their family back home proud.

But here, Seokmin was surrounded by stories of honor, pride, and valor. Officers both young and old recounted their experiences, tales that left Seokmin breathless. He couldn't wait to tell his own stories in the future.

The whole table went quiet when it was time for Jihoon to speak. Everyone around him listened, totally enraptured, as Jihoon told his story about his first nighttime patrol. Seokmin listened too, always providing the most over-the-top reactions as Jihoon spun his tale. In another setting, Seokmin's loud barks of laughter and exaggerated facial expressions would have grated on Jihoon's nerves, but here it encouraged him to be even more lively with his storytelling.  

Seokmin started clapping when Jihoon eventually fell silent. He was the only one clapping, but other people were smiling fondly at Jihoon, or even patting him on the back. Seokmin could tell that Jihoon was well-known and well-liked. And Seokmin could even begin to see the suggestion of a kind heart beneath the layers of bluntness Jihoon wore as armor.

Any hopes that Seokmin had about Jihoon being kindhearted were immediately dashed the next day when Jihoon literally dragged Seokmin out of bed at four-thirty in the morning. Even as a trainee, Seokmin never had to wake any earlier than five or six.

Half of Seokmin's body was hanging off the mattress before he was fully awake. He let out a yelp in horror when he saw the ground below him. He quickly scrambled away from the edge as he realized how close he was to falling off his bed.

"Why did you have to do that?" Seokmin asked as he shakily climbed down the ladder from his bunk.

“Do what?” Jihoon answered absently as though there was nothing remarkable about manhandling his roommate first thing in the morning.

“Dragging my body out of my bed and leaving me hanging there!”

"You weren't waking up when the alarm went off."

"I almost fell off the bed!"

"But you didn't," Jihoon pointed out as he straightened the badge pinned to his chest. "You're in one piece, and you're going to make us late for morning patrol duty, so you better hurry up and get your ass dressed so we can grab breakfast before we go."

Seokmin didn't need to be told twice; the glare that Jihoon fixed on him was enough to encourage him to move quickly.

Something that Jihoon noticed right away about Seokmin was that his mouth was always open. At any given moment, he would always be chattering away or smiling or laughing. The only time Seokmin closed his mouth was when he was eating.

Jihoon watched with faint disgust as Seokmin scarfed down one piece of dry toast after another. There was only one rule in the officer mess hall: you could take however much food you want, but you had to eat everything you took. Apparently, the trainee cafeteria was more strict about how much the young cadets could consume, administering meals in tightly regulated portions. Though life as a trainee was, in many ways, a much simpler time, Jihoon wouldn't ever want to return to it.

"God, this is so boring," Seokmin complained less than an hour into their shift.

The sun was starting to peek through clouds on the horizon, the first rays of daylight painting the sky pastel shades of pink and orange and lavender. After breakfast, all Seokmin had done was follow Jihoon as he strolled up one desolate block and down another. The dreaded morning patrol duty. The sheer tedium of it and the lack of conversation on Jihoon's part were starting to drive Seokmin crazy.

As much as Seokmin respected Jihoon as his senior and his leader, he found Jihoon's company to be almost unbearably awkward. Every time Seokmin tried to start a new conversation, Jihoon managed to kill it almost effortlessly.

"Would you try to answer my questions with more than one syllable?" Seokmin finally asked when he was just about fed up with Jihoon's monosyllabic responses.

"No," Jihoon answered curtly, and Seokmin fell silent once again.

Soon, Seokmin changed his strategy. Instead of trying to engage Jihoon in conversation, he just talked at him without waiting for Jihoon to participate. This satisfied Seokmin's need for constant chatter while sparing Jihoon the effort to speak. When he wasn't prattling away, Seokmin was humming or singing. Jihoon was sure that Seokmin had a lovely voice, but he wasn't accustomed to working with someone so noisy .

“God, do you ever shut up?” Jihoon finally snapped. He could only stoically endure something for so long.  

“Um, no?” Seokmin said. “I talk when I'm nervous. And when I'm not nervous, too. I have to make noise to concentrate.”

“Your noise is affecting my ability to concentrate!”

“I’m sorry,” Seokmin said in a small voice. “I just think that if I couldn’t talk to someone, I would die.”

He meant it as a joke and chuckled to prove it, but his laughter rang false. Jihoon could sense that there was something vulnerable thinly veiled by his facetious exterior. For all his bluster and bravado, Seokmin still had fears just like everyone else. From what Jihoon could tell, it seemed that Seokmin was afraid of being alone, of having nobody to talk to.

Jihoon liked seeing these fears in other people. Not because it made him feel superior for not possessing any such fears himself, but because it reminded him that humans were supposed to be afraid. Jihoon was also a human of course, but lately he had forgotten how being human was supposed to feel.

With Seokmin silent for once, Jihoon finally had the chance to take a proper look at his face without getting distracted by the drivel that came out of his mouth. He noticed that there was something beautifully imperfect about Seokmin, something about the oddly elegant lines of his face, the strange way his chin dimpled when he smiled, the stray mole here and there that dotted his skin.

“Want to see something cool?” Jihoon asked gently, feeling a rare tenderness towards him.

Seokmin’s eyebrow quirked in interest but he didn’t still say anything, and Jihoon suddenly felt a strange desire to hear his voice again. Seokmin unable to stop talking was bad, but Seokmin not talking at all was somehow even worse.

“Have you ever seen what’s beyond the walls?” Jihoon continued.

As predicted, there was a sudden shift in Seokmin’s entire face as a wide-eyed, incredulous look replaced his somber expression.

“No? I thought that wasn’t allowed,” Seokmin said. “I haven’t even seen the walls up close.”

All of his life, Seokmin had been told to stay away from the towering walls that protected their city. Nobody knew how or when they were built, and nobody questioned why they were there. From what Seokmin managed to piece together from rumors, it seemed that there was something out there beyond the walls that threatened the existence of the people who lived within them.

Seokmin couldn’t imagine that there could be anything out there so frightening that so many people would rather live in a cage.

“I’ve been outside the walls,” Jihoon said. “That was my job as a special ops officer. To collect intelligence from beyond the walls so we could understand those things out there.”

An exhilarated shiver ran through Seokmin’s body, and he felt an unmistakable sense of belonging at Jihoon’s side.

“Those things ?” Seokmin asked. “What things ?”

“We’re not exactly sure what they are yet, but Seungcheol likes to call them angels. We don’t know where they came from. They might have been born from the sky.”

Excited goosebumps rose from Seokmin’s skin. This is what he had be longing for his entire life, whether he realized it or not—to see more of what had to be an infinitely vast world beyond the confines of the city, to understand the truth of the world they lived in.

“What do the angels look like?” Seokmin pressed. His burning curiosity was a flame that raged in every cell of his body. “Have you seen any up close?”

“It’s….hard to explain,” Jihoon said, a tiny indentation appearing between his eyebrows as he frowned. “They look like birds, but we think that some of them can change their appearance to look like people. I’ve only seen one up close, and for a second, it looked like my mother.”

It was a troubling image that shook him to his very core. Two years later, Jihoon could still vividly recall the startlingly human features on what he thought had been a monster.

“Wow,” Seokmin breathed. “And I’m going to see them too?”

“Only if you’re brave,” Jihoon teased.

When their shift ended, Jihoon took him on a detour to the outskirts of the city. The sight of the walls took Seokmin’s breath away. The walls were taller than the highest skyscraper, and they stretched around the perimeter of the entire sprawling city.

There were guards standing sentry at the foot of the walls to prevent civilians from getting too close to the outside world. They greeted Jihoon with respectful salutes. Jihoon was instantly recognizable even to officers outside his division.

“I’m taking this new special ops officer on a tour,” Jihoon explained smoothly. “Can we get an elevator to the top?”

“Yes, sir.”

One of the guards swiped an access card and allowed Jihoon and Seokmin to step inside an elevator built into the wall.

“You’re not going to tell anybody about this, of course,” Jihoon said as the elevator climbed upwards.

“Yes, sir!” Seokmin said eagerly.

“You don’t have to call me sir,” Jihoon laughed quietly. “We’re equals.”

“Okay!”

Jihoon explained some boring police customs to Seokmin, things that Seokmin didn’t care about such as when to salute and who had to call who “sir.” Seokmin was so fascinated by the tiny dimples that appeared by Jihoon’s mouth when he spoke that he missed every word of it.

They reached the top, and Jihoon wordlessly stepped aside to let Seokmin lean over a battlement. Seokmin’s mouth gaped soundlessly as though he was trying to say something but couldn’t find his voice. He finally closed his mouth and swallowed. A tingling sensation rose in his throat, and tears pricked behind his eyes.

Seokmin had grown up with nothing but gray all around him. The color of steel, asphalt, cement and dust. He had never seen so much green. Grass was growing freely as far as he could see, dotted with clusters of wildflowers, blips of white and lavender and yellow.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Jihoon asked, leaning over the battlement to look at Seokmin’s face.

The quiet awe in Seokmin’s expression was enough of an answer.

As they returned to the dorms for lunch, Seokmin bombarded Jihoon with so many questions that he almost regretted taking Seokmin to the walls.

“Are civilians allowed to go up there?”

“No.”

“Why did they let you take me there?”

“Because I can do whatever I want.”

“Did you lie to the guards?”

“Technically, no.”

“Did you lie for me ?”

“We’re not going to talk about this anymore.”

“Why weren’t there any angels out there?”

“They only come out at night.”

Jihoon was thoroughly sick of Seokmin’s company by the time they sat down at a table with their trays of nutritious goo. Other officers quickly filled the seats around them, drawn in by both Jihoon’s stoic charisma and Seokmin’s infectious energy. Jihoon gave off an aura that conveyed to the people around him that he wasn’t in the mood to talk, but Seokmin basked in the attention.

Over the next few weeks, Jihoon discovered that Seokmin had a kind of charm that Jihoon found both insufferable and irresistible in equal parts.

They spent almost every hour of the day together with patrol duty in the morning, training in the evening, and meals in between. Being around Seokmin, or even thinking about him, often filled Jihoon with the urge to either destroy or create something. He could never be sure which impulse would overpower the other. If Jihoon hadn’t lost his guitar in a game of poker during his trainee years, he might have written a song. Otherwise, he often felt like punching a wall.

Seokmin was like the sun. Jihoon couldn’t look at him without frowning.

Still, he had to admit that Seokmin brought sunshine to the colorless winter air. When Seokmin wasn’t provoking Jihoon (whether intentionally or not), his companionship was tolerable, even enjoyable.

It didn’t take long for Seokmin to adjust to the daily rhythms of working, training, and recreation time. The days were long, but there was never a dull hour in the company of Jihoon and the other members of the Valor Unit: Jisoo, Seungkwan, and Jeonghan.

Rumors of an upcoming mission outside the walls emerged when the Valor team began collaborative training with two of the other special ops units, Honor and Pride.

Jihoon appeared to be especially close to Seungcheol, the leader of the Honor Unit. Even though Jihoon was well-respected by his peers, he didn’t seem to have many close friends besides Seungcheol. And Seokmin, maybe. Seokmin hoped that Jihoon thought of him as a friend.

Apparently, Jihoon and Seungcheol had endured a harrowing five years as trainees together. Thinking about the bond that Jihoon and Seungcheol had probably formed over the years made Seokmin feel a peculiar kind of insecurity he couldn’t quite comprehend.

That insecurity was somewhat alleviated when Soonyoung, the leader of the Pride Unit, confessed something to him during an evening training session. The three units were having a mixed martial arts practice led by Minghao, a member of Soonyoung’s unit.

Soonyoung had been paired up with Seokmin. The most experienced in martial arts (besides Minghao) paired with the least experienced. After thoroughly kicking Seokmin’s ass, Soonyoung pulled him aside for a water break.

“You’re kind of a miracle, you know?” Soonyoung said as he wiped his sweat away with an old towel.

“What?” Seokmin gasped, sucking air greedily through his lungs before gulping down more water.

“Jihoon usually hates everything that is pure and good,” Soonyoung explained, “so it’s a miracle that he likes you.”

At the sound of Jihoon’s name, Seokmin’s heart jumped to his throat. He blinked, hardly able to comprehend Soonyoung’s words. “He likes me? How do you know?”

“With Jihoon, after a while you can just tell.”

Seokmin had no idea what Soonyoung meant, but he said, “I see. That’s….good. I….like him too.”

Soonyoung chuckled, and said, “You should tell him that to his face. I’d pay to see what color his face turns.”

Of course, Seokmin would never dream of doing such a thing. He couldn’t be sure that Soonyoung’s judgment was reliable. He wasn’t even sure what kind of like Soonyoung meant.

Seokmin turned Soonyoung’s words over in his mind again. Jihoon liked him? It didn’t seem that Jihoon was capable of liking anyone besides Seungcheol. But it was a relief to hear that Jihoon didn't hate him, at least.

As if he could sense the current of their conversation from across the mirrored practice room, Jihoon stormed over to where Seokmin and Soonyoung were resting.

“What are you guys doing taking a break by yourselves?” he demanded. “Didn’t everyone agree that we would all take breaks together?”

“Relax,” Soonyoung said. “Seokmin and I were just getting water. We’ve been sparring nonstop, since our boy here is apparently a glutton for punishment. He deserves a few minutes to catch his breath.”

Jihoon’s glare softened when Seokmin doubled over to exaggerate his exhaustion, panting with his shoulders heaving up and down.

“Make it quick,” Jihoon said, before turning on his heel to resume boxing with Mingyu.

“See?” Soonyoung said, grinning at Seokmin. “He doesn’t hate you.”

“That’s not the same as liking me.”

“With Jihoon, it is.”

They watched Jihoon topple Mingyu, grabbing him by the ankles and holding him in a headlock. After a few seconds, Mingyu slammed his fist into the ground several times in defeat. Jihoon stepped away and coolly brushed off the dust that collected on his thighs. Mingyu picked himself off the floor and raised his fists again for a rematch.

This time, Jihoon somehow managed to leap onto Mingyu's back and wrestle him into the ground. Once again, Mingyu's face was pressed to the mat within seconds with Jihoon sitting on top of him.

“He’s actually kind of scary,” Seokmin admitted.

“Scary is an understatement,” Soonyoung agreed.

For the rest of the evening and the days that followed, Seokmin searched Jihoon’s face for a sign, anything that would confirm that what Soonyoung said was true. But no matter how much time Seokmin spent staring at Jihoon, he wasn’t any closer to understanding what feelings dwelled behind his perpetually stoic expression.  

The only feelings Seokmin figured out were his own. He had feelings for Jihoon. A lot of feelings. Too many feelings, in fact.

At this point, how could he not? Jihoon in his child sized pajamas was the first thing Seokmin saw every morning and the last thing he saw before falling asleep each night. He’s witnessed Jihoon at his most heroic, calmly rescuing lives without getting a wrinkle in his uniform. He’s seen Jihoon at his most vulnerable, his face still soft with sleep, hair sticking out in every direction.

There were other images that would always be seared into his memory. Simple moments that Seokmin treasured the most, such as teasing reluctant smiles out of Jihoon. Making him laugh when he was in danger of taking himself too seriously. These were the moments that made Seokmin feel like he really meant something to Jihoon.

For the first time since he could remember, Seokmin woke up naturally. No blaring alarm clock, no Jihoon dragging him out of bed. Just a soft yellow glow slanting through the blinds hanging crookedly from their window.

It felt all wrong.

Leaning over the edge of his bunk, Seokmin called out softly, “Jihoon? Did you forget to set the alarm?”

His stomach sank in dread when there was no answer. He scrambled down the ladder to check Jihoon’s bed. It was empty. His bed was made neatly with his sheets and covers pulled taut across the mattress.

A glance at the alarm clock told him that it was seven-thirty in the morning. Seokmin was inexcusably late for his patrol shift, but Jihoon was missing. He had to find him first.

Seokmin quickly slipped his uniform on and grabbed his badges, pinning them upside down by accident in his haste. He started walking, and then began running when he couldn’t find a sign of Jihoon anywhere in the dormitory or cafeteria.

Not knowing where else to check, he headed towards the practice rooms where they trained every night. He jiggled the doorknob of every room in the hallway but they were all locked. He ran up and down staircases until he finally found an unlocked door. He flung the door open and burst into the room.

Nine pairs of eyes looked at him in surprise, but none of them belonged to Jihoon. Glancing from face to face, Seokmin recognized them as the boys he had been training with over the past several weeks. Seungkwan, Jisoo, Jeonghan. Wonwoo, Mingyu, Hansol. Minghao, Jun, Chan.

They were sprawled across the practice room in groups of two or three, playing cards and board games or reading books. With casual clothing on instead of their uniforms, they looked like normal teenage boys. They could have been high school or college students.  

“Does anyone….know….where Jihoon is,” Seokmin wheezed, out of breath from all the sprinting. He looked at them with pained, imploring eyes.

“He’s with Seungcheol and Soonyoung,” Jeonghan explained. “They’re having meetings today, so we all got the day off. Didn’t Jihoon tell you?”

“No, he didn’t,” Seokmin groaned, feeling relief and embarrassment wash over him in tides. He went into panic mode for no reason, but at least he didn't have to worry about Jihoon’s safety.

“Well, come on in,” Jeonghan said. “Would you like to play poker with us?”

Seokmin accepted Jeonghan’s invitation and sat down next to him. The circle of boys sitting cross-legged on the floor adjusted their positions to accommodate the additional player.

“You know how to play poker, right?” Jeonghan asked, shuffling the deck before handing it to Jisoo to deal out the cards.

“I sure do,” Seokmin answered. He became quite good at the game during his trainee years.

Instead of poker chips, they bargained with individually wrapped candies. Fruity hard candies were worth the least, pieces of gum were more valuable, and chocolate bars had the highest value. Seokmin didn’t have any bargaining pieces, so Jeonghan supplied him with a few pieces of hard candy and gum.

Before he knew it, Seokmin was laughing and shouting with the other boys. Their voices rose and amplified each other as Seungkwan accused Seokmin of cheating and vice versa. After a few rounds, it didn’t matter because Jeonghan ended up with the biggest winnings anyways. He always did. Nobody ever suspected Jeonghan of playing dirty even though he was the biggest cheat of them all.

Seokmin was relieved to find that the other officers still knew how to have fun even after graduating from training academy. Maybe it was only Jihoon who acted like he had forgotten how to enjoy himself.

The day passed by quickly while Seokmin bonded with his teammates. After poker, they shared snacks and stories, chatting and singing and making each other laugh for hours. Jeonghan made a comment about how days like these felt like true happiness, and Seokmin couldn’t help but agree.

The room became even more lively when the leaders returned. Seokmin felt happiness bubbling in his chest when he saw Jihoon, especially when he noticed that Jihoon was smiling . Jihoon, Seungcheol, and Soonyoung all looked like they had good news.

“We’ve met with the higher ups,” Seungcheol announced. “And they’ve approved our mission to explore outside the walls. So in a month, the three of our units will go together as one team.”

The leaders beamed as the members of their newly assembled team cheered in excitement. It was difficult to obtain permission for such a mission. Nobody had managed to obtain approval in almost two years. That was the year Jihoon and a few other special ops officers came into close contact with the angels. Jihoon was the only one who made it back alive.

Everyone in the room understood the risks of venturing outside the walls. But they were united by their burning curiosity, the desire to understand the strange world outside their cage of a city. Somehow, Seungcheol, Soonyoung, and Jihoon managed to convince the senior commanders that their team of thirteen was capable of facing the dangers outside. That was a feat in itself.

“We’ll go in the daytime,” Seungcheol said, explaining the details of their plan. “My team will be surveying the surrounding lands so we can begin building a map.”

“My team will be searching for natural resources that our greedy government can exploit in the future,” Soonyoung chimed in.

Seungcheol frowned at Soonyoung, who insisted, “You know that’s the only reason why they approved of the plan!”

“My team will be trying to identify the angels’ habitat,” Jihoon said, ignoring Soonyoung’s protests.

A few of the boys exchanged looks of surprise. Given Jihoon’s history with the angels, it would be understandable if he never wanted to venture outside the walls again. But Seokmin wasn’t surprised. He knew that there wasn’t a thing in the world that scared Jihoon.   

“From what we’ve seen, angels have only come out at night, so the likelihood of encountering any will be low,” Jihoon continued. “But the risk of seeing them will be especially high for those on my team. If any of you wish to join Soonyoung or Seungcheol’s team, none of us will hold it against you.”

Jisoo raised his hand. “Will we be armed?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Seungcheol said. “The senior commanders wouldn’t allow it. Apparently, the angels can sense if we’re armed. We don’t want to have a hostile presence on their lands. The mission will be peaceful, purely to collect intelligence.”

“Besides, Minghao has already taught all of you how to defend yourselves without weapons,” Soonyoung added, and everyone nodded in agreement.

“Any other questions?” Jihoon asked.

“Do we have to do any training tonight?” Seungkwan asked.

Seungcheol smiled and said, “No, we can all relax and enjoy ourselves tonight. Our training begins tomorrow.”

The boys naturally divided themselves by age group, with the older boys quietly conversing on one side of the room while the younger ones played boisterous games on the other side.

Jeonghan and Jisoo joined Seungcheol and Jihoon, while Soonyoung left the other two leaders to play with the younger members of the team. Jeonghan updated Seungcheol on everything that happened while the leaders were in conference, which was mostly Jeonghan swindling everyone during card games. Seungcheol had a good laugh at that.

Turning towards Jihoon, Seungcheol said, "I think your little duckling misses you."

"My little—what?" Jihoon asked.

Seungcheol glanced over Jihoon's shoulder, and Jihoon turned to follow his gaze. He caught Seokmin looking over at him from across the room. There was a strange expression on his face that lingered so briefly that Jihoon might have imagined it. And then Seokmin's eyes crinkled into a smile, and he waggled his eyebrows at Jihoon before turning his attention back towards the game.

They were playing the kind of game involving playful skinship that Jihoon never participated in, not even when he was a trainee. He was always accused of being too serious or prudish, but he really didn't care for casual, frivolous skinship.

"Okay, but why the hell did you call Seokmin my little duckling?" Jihoon asked.

"We started calling him that because he follows you around wherever you go," Jeonghan explained. "He's like a baby animal, imprinting on the first thing it sees."

"We as in who?" Jihoon demanded.

"All of us," Seungcheol said, gesturing towards everyone in the room.

"He keeps looking over at you," Jeonghan giggled, but Jihoon refused to look back at Seokmin. "I think he has separation anxiety from being away from you for an entire day. You should go over to talk to him.

Jihoon stared flatly at them, and Seungcheol punched him fondly on the shoulder.

Seokmin fought the instinct to look at Jihoon, but he failed, repeatedly. Eventually the game escalated enough to distract him for a few solid minutes. But then Seokmin heard Jihoon laughing, a rare and beautiful sound. He tore his attention away from the game, and looked over at Jihoon again. His heart lifted seeing Jihoon in such a good mood.

And then Seungcheol slung an arm around Jihoon's shoulders, and Seokmin's smile wilted a little around the edges. The worst part was how effortlessly it happened, how much Jihoon looked like he belonged in the crook of Seungcheol's arm. It suddenly dawned upon Seokmin how much he craved that easy kind of belonging.

"Hey guys," Seokmin announced to the group. "Is it okay if I bring Jihoon over here to play chicken with us?"

"If he wants to," Soonyoung said. "He usually doesn't like games like these."

They all feared and respected Jihoon enough that they never dared to invite him to join their games. The other boys thought that Seokmin was terribly brave for approaching Jihoon.

By some miracle, Seokmin returned to where they were all sitting in a circle, Jihoon following behind him. Seungcheol, Jisoo, and Jeonghan were also watching with interest from afar.

Seokmin sat in the center of the circle and gestured for Jihoon to sit down next to him. "Do you know how to play chicken?"

Jihoon shook his head.

"I'll explain it then," Soonyoung said. "It's basically a game of concentration, guts, and endurance. Whoever backs away first is the loser. Would you like a demonstration? Wonwoo and Mingyu are very good at this game."

"No thanks," Jihoon said. If it was a game of concentration, he was sure he could beat Seokmin.

"Okay, then, I'll start now," Seokmin announced.

Jihoon wasn't prepared for how close Seokmin suddenly was. Jihoon sat cross-legged on the floor, very still. Seokmin was on his hands and knees in front of him, almost in Jihoon's lap. Heat started to crawl up Jihoon's cheeks as he fought to keep his expression blank. Seokmin hadn't even started touching him yet, Jihoon had to stay calm.

He bravely stood his ground, refusing to give into Seokmin as he palmed Jihoon's thighs, his hands straying higher and higher towards Jihoon's groin. He stoically endured Seokmin's groping without even blinking.

Seokmin needed to change his strategy. He leaned in to brush his lips against the curve of Jihoon's neck. If it was a sensitive spot for him, Jihoon didn't let it show. His lips twitched a little around the corners but he otherwise kept his expression remote. A game of endurance .

Seokmin mouthed along the slope of Jihoon's jaw. His skin was velvety soft as a peach. He let his lips travel closer and closer to Jihoon's mouth with the expectation that Jihoon would pull away at any second, but he didn't.

Blood roared in Jihoon's ears, and the walls seemed to pound with his heartbeat. He needed increasingly to interpose some distance between their bodies before his own body betrayed itself.

And then Seokmin's lips were on top of his. Their bodies were pressed flush together, and Jihoon felt Seokmin go still in surprise. He could tell that Seokmin hadn't expected that Jihoon would let the game go this far. To be fair, Jihoon didn't expect for it to go this far, either. But since they did make it this far, Jihoon decided that he might as well play to win.

Their lips were touching, but Jihoon turned it into a kiss. He parted his lips and moved his mouth against Seokmin's with a sensuality he wasn't even aware that he was capable of. His hands moved to Seokmin's toned waist as he nipped gently at Seokmin's lower lip. At the brush of Jihoon's tongue, Seokmin finally tore himself away from Jihoon.

A catlike smile curled Jihoon's lips. "Looks like I win," he said.

Everyone was silent for an awful moment, their brains still trying to process what they just witnessed.

Eventually, Seungcheol cheered, "Jihoon finally gave his first kiss! Was it a good one, Seokmin?"

While everyone else finally regained their senses, Seokmin's mind was still a blank static buzz. He didn't even realize that he was staring at Jihoon until he snapped, "What are you looking at?"

Seokmin slowly found his voice and said, "I like you."

Jihoon turned such a vivid shade of pink that even Soonyoung was satisfied.

They never spoke of the chicken incident, but Seokmin was no longer uncertain about Jihoon's feelings. Jihoon never admitted anything out loud, of course, but Seokmin could tell by the way that Jihoon became more playful with him, poking Seokmin in the stomach and waist at any chance possible.

Jihoon rarely initiated any of the more intimate skinship, but he allowed Seokmin to hold him in the privacy of their dorm room. And once in awhile, if Jihoon was in an especially good mood, he would stand on his tip toes and tilt his chin up for Seokmin to lean down and kiss him.

Their friends—Seungcheol especially—were overjoyed that Seokmin managed to thaw the cold, unfeeling ice that seemed to encase Jihoon's heart.

Jihoon was reticent by nature about his emotions. It was what made him effective at his job. He could easily distance himself from his feelings enough so that they would never interfere with his work. That was how he survived his first encounter with the angels, and that would be the only way he could survive seeing them again.

He never consciously felt fear, but it manifested itself in his nightmares. He saw terrible visions in his sleep, echoes of the horrors he once witnessed. His dreams were dark with blood and black feathers. But as soon as he woke up, Jihoon dismissed his nightmares. The sober logic of his lucid mind overpowered his latent fears.

Those fears stayed dormant for months, years after the angels killed his former teammates. The faces he saw in his dreams were always those of the men who hadn't made it. But as the upcoming mission approached, the faces changed. They no longer belonged to his former teammates, but his new friends.

And then, Jihoon had a nightmare with Seokmin in it. He saw Seokmin's body in a crumpled pile, with stray angel feathers around his head almost like a halo. He looked so broken.

Jihoon woke up screaming.

"What's wrong?" he heard a voice ask.

Jihoon felt his mattress shift, and he slowly opened his eyes. The room was dark, but just enough austere moonlight poured through their blinds for Jihoon to see Seokmin's worried face looming over him.

"Did you have a nightmare?" Seokmin asked.

Jihoon's throat felt raw and jagged. He nodded. He tried to speak, but only a broken sob escaped.

"Shhh, it's okay," Seokmin whispered. He crawled under Jihoon's blanket and held him.

Jihoon pressed his face into Seokmin's shoulder, trusting as a child, their bodies curled up against each other as Seokmin hummed softly into his hair. It was thick and soft, and it smelled like the shampoo they shared.

Unable to speak, Jihoon just cried onto the sleeve of Seokmin's tshirt until the fabric was soaked and his face was sticky with moisture. Jihoon cried the way he loved—rarely, but with all his heart.

It was a great comfort to be held by Seokmin, who felt so warm and alive. It wasn’t often that Jihoon's feelings managed to overpower his logic, but he needed the reminder that Seokmin was safe. He was terribly shaken by the image in his nightmare.

From that night on, Seokmin slept in Jihoon's bed. His warm, solid presence protected Jihoon from the nightmares that haunted him. They still plagued his sleep, but having Seokmin there made the visions less frightening. Waking up in Seokmin's arms made it even more difficult than usual to get out of bed, but that was a different issue entirely.

Somewhere between early morning patrol shifts and late night kisses under the covers of their bunk bed, Seokmin realized that he would follow Lee Jihoon to the end of the world.

The day finally came for Seokmin step foot outside the walls. Even the air tasted different on the other side. It was fresher, cleaner, a sweet taste of freedom.

Seokmin couldn't stop smiling. He looked over at Jihoon, who had a troubled expression on his face.

"Be brave," Seokmin said to him, giving Jihoon's hand a brief squeeze.

"I am brave," Jihoon responded. "I'm very brave."

"You'll have to be braver than that!"

Jihoon smiled reluctantly, shaking his head in fond exasperation. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits for their first mission. Jihoon wanted to be excited too, but a headache was wreaking havoc in his skull. He pinched where the pressure hit the hardest—on the bridge of his nose, right between his eyes. He would just have to endure the pain, but it was fine. He has suffered through worse.

The three teams scattered in different directions. None of Jihoon's team members abandoned Valor for other teams. He knew that they wouldn't.

“We only have two cameras between the five of us,” Jihoon said. “So we'll split up as we look for the angels’ habitat. Jeonghan, you take one camera. I'll take the other.”

He handed Jeonghan a camera and continued, “Jisoo will go with you, Jeonghan. Seungkwan and Seokmin will stay with me. We'll meet back here before sunset. If you hear a loud booming noise, run.”

“Why?” Seokmin asked.

“Angels cause skyquakes when they move from place to place. They appear out of thin air, and it makes a noise like a gunshot.”

“They can just….appear? How does that work?”

“I don't know, it might have something to do with how fast they move. The important thing to remember is if you hear any weird noises, get away as quickly as you can. This mission is solely for collecting information about the terrain.”

“HEY! HEY GUYS!” someone shouted from afar.

The Valor team looked over and saw Seungcheol's teammate Wonwoo approaching. For some reason, Wonwoo was always shouting if he wasn't being completely silent.

“What is it, Wonwoo?” Jihoon asked.

“MINGYU TOOK EVERYONE’S FOOD BY ACCIDENT INSTEAD OF JUST OUR OWN TEAM’S. SO I HAVE TO RETURN THESE TO YOU GUYS,” Wonwoo explained, offering Jihoon a backpack filled with lunch rations.

“That idiot,” Seungkwan said. “I thought my bag felt too light. Just wait until I see him when all of this is over.”

“It's fine, I'll let him know how you you feel the next time Mingyu and I practice boxing together,” Jihoon said. “Thank you for returning these to us, Wonwoo.”

“NO PROBLEM GUYS!” Wonwoo said as he trotted away. “GOOD LUCK WITH YOUR MISSION!”

The five members of the Valor team eventually split off into two groups when they reached the edge of a thickly wooded forest.

"Jisoo and Jeonghan, you guys take the perimeter of this forest. Walk around the edges, but don't go in too deep," Jihoon instructed. "Seungkwan, Seokmin, and I will go straight to the center to see what we can find."

The older two boys nodded and walked away in a different direction while the others followed Jihoon.

It was cooler in the forest, and noisier. The canopy of trees overhead made a mosaic of leaves and sunlight. There were quiet scuffling noises and distant chirps all around them.

Beyond what Jihoon's physical senses could perceive, he felt a strange, visceral tug of energy that told him he was headed in the right direction.

The other two boys trailed in Jihoon's shadow, stepping over the loose rocks and twigs in their path. Not for a moment did either Seungkwan or Seokmin doubt Jihoon's leadership. He always looked like he knew where he was going and what he was doing, regardless of whether he actually did or not. Either way, they trusted him with every inch of their hearts.

In the distance, a sonorous boom ripped through the air. It was far away enough that it sounded quiet to their ears, but the entire forest seemed to quiver in a rippling aftershock.

"The angels know we're here," Jihoon breathed.

"How do you know?" Seokmin asked.

"I....I just know," Jihoon said. It was a kind of intuition he couldn't explain. After his close encounter with them from before, he could recognize their presence.

"Should we go back?" Seungkwan asked fearfully.

"You can go back if you want and find the other members. But I want to keep going," Jihoon decided. It had taken so much for them to come this far. He had no idea when they could get approval for another mission.

"I want to come with you," Seokmin said.

"I guess I'll come too," Seungkwan agreed reluctantly.

"If we do see an angel, I want you guys to stay back," Jihoon told them solemnly.

"Would you approach them if we do?" Seokmin asked, his eyes widening.

"I don't know when we'll have another opportunity to learn more about these things. If we do run into one, I'm just going to get as close as I can to take a few pictures. Don't follow me, and don't come after me unless I call for help. It's not in the plan, so I don't want either of you two to risk getting hurt."

Seokmin's lips pressed into a fine line. He didn't like the idea of Jihoon trying to pursue an angel on his own. But Jihoon was the leader, and there was no use trying to argue with him. Seokmin understood Jihoon's curiosity. As much as Seokmin wanted to protect him, he just had to trust that Jihoon was capable of protecting himself.

They searched deeper and deeper, and tension coiled around Jihoon's gut. He could feel the presence of angels nearby.

A deafening crack pierced through the air, and the fierce pounding of Jihoon's heart shook his bones.

"L-look," Seungkwan whispered, pointing in the distance.

Through the thick grove of trees, the three boys could see a sliver of pure white. It had to be an angel. There wasn't anything else it could possibly be.

"Stay here," Jihoon said, his voice quiet but forceful.

"But — " Seokmin tried to protest.

"Don't come unless I call for you."

Before Seokmin could say another word, Jihoon slipped away. He willed his hands to stay steady as he weaved between trees, trying to find a good position to capture the angel's image on camera.

Finally, he hid behind a tree that was close enough to see the angel. He snapped a photo of the ethereally bizarre, feathered creature.

Swans and crows , Jihoon thought suddenly.

Swans and crows were the first creatures the angels encountered when they arrived in this world. That’s why the angels looked like that. They just took on the appearance of the first living things they saw.

Jihoon didn’t know where the notion came from. Suddenly more of these ideas took form in his mind, and he wasn't sure if his thoughts were his own anymore.

The humans didn’t build the walls to keep the angels out. The angels built them to keep humans inside. But the humans were trying to break out, and the angels could feel it. The angels were scared.

Jihoon suddenly heard an unfamiliar voice in his mind speaking to him. It seemed to possess neither an age nor a gender, it was just pure thought in its most abstract form.

angels

born from the sky

you wanted to see us

so look at us

come here child

Jihoon realized then that the thoughts were definitely not his own. Somehow, the angel was communicating with him through his mind.

yes

come closer

let us see your face again

we remember

you

Jihoon stepped slowly towards the angel, feeling an invisible resistance against his limbs as though he was moving in a dream. The camera was shaking between his hands as he kept taking more photos.

Despite Jihoon's instructions, Seokmin still followed Jihoon, moving stealthily behind him. He hid behind a tree as he watched Jihoon approaching the angel. He wanted to lunge out and grab Jihoon before he got into trouble, but Seungkwan caught him by the wrist. Seungkwan shook his head solemnly and didn't let go until Seokmin relaxed in his grip.

More angels appeared around Jihoon with noisy cracks and pops. The air seemed to shimmer and ripple where they materialized out of thin air.

They were the size of grown men, or taller. Some of them had greasy black feathers covering their entire bodies, while others, like the first, were pure white. They stood upright on human-like legs, but they had arms that tapered into claws. The wings sprouting from their shoulder blades appeared to be vestigial; they walked on their feet as they crowded around Jihoon.

At first, they had onyx eyes and beaks that glittered under the patchy sunlight, but as they drew closer, Jihoon noticed that their faces flickered between birdlike and human.

speak to us child

The angels spoke to Jihoon with one mind.

I want to understand what you are , Jihoon thought, hoping that the angels could hear his message.

you want to hurt us

No , Jihoon pleaded. We didn't come here to hurt you or take your land.

not you child

all of you

Jihoon swallowed. By “all of you” the angels had to mean the entire human race. The next words confirmed the fear that was crawling up Jihoon’s spine.

there will be war

it will be over quickly

and when it ends

there will be nothing

As far as Jihoon knew, there were no plans to come into conflict with the angels. Then again, he could never be sure what the senior officials and commanders had in mind. He wouldn't put such a plan past them. And at this point, he wouldn't doubt the angels' ability to ascertain their intentions.

No, I swear I—we, we're not trying to hurt you , Jihoon thought desperately. We just want to understand you.

The angels showed Jihoon a vision. The scene appeared clearly to him as if he was watching it unfold in front of him.

Before Jihoon's eyes could properly discern the image, he screamed, "No!"

The vision was all too familiar to him. It was the image from his nightmare, Seokmin in a crumpled, broken pile on the ground with white feathers scattered around his head. He finally recognized the scene where the nightmare took place. It was the very forest they were standing in.

You're lying , Jihoon thought forcefully. That was just a dream, that wasn't real .

But he didn't need the angels to tell him that what he was seeing was true. It just hadn't happened yet.

The terrible force of the truth brought him to his knees.

Seungkwan had to hold Seokmin back once again when they heard Jihoon scream. But then they watched from a distance as Jihoon collapsed to the ground, and Seokmin tore himself away from Seungkwan's grip to rush towards him. Seungkwan let him go, and he ran in the opposite direction to tell the other members what happened.

The angels pressed in towards Jihoon from every direction, but Seokmin pushed through the crowd. He didn't spare the grotesquely beautiful creatures a single glance as he reached for Jihoon to scoop him up in his arms. Seokmin accidentally knocked the camera out of Jihoon's fingers as he carried him away, running as fast as he could with the weight of Jihoon in his arms.

Jihoon's eyes suddenly flew open, and he realized that Seokmin was carrying him. He wrestled out of Seokmin's arms and started running on his own feet.

"What are you doing?" he demanded. "I told you to stay back!"

"They were going to hurt you!" Seokmin shouted as they ran.

Seokmin was indignant, and Jihoon was seething.

"You disobeyed my command and put yourself in danger!" Jihoon snapped.

" You were in danger! I couldn't just stand there and watch!"

Jihoon couldn't get the vision of Seokmin out of his mind. He was certain that the angels were going to kill him. That could have been him today, if Seokmin didn't run fast enough.

They finally made it to the edge of the forest, where the rest of their teammates were waiting for them with pained, anxious expressions. They collapsed onto the grass in exhaustion.

Seungcheol was crying openly, decorum be damned. He grabbed Jihoon's body and held him close.

"Are you okay?" Seungcheol asked, his voice thick with emotion. "Seungkwan told me that the angels got you. Are you hurt? Did anyone get hurt?"

"No," Jihoon said tightly. "I'm fine. Everyone's fine. We just lost a camera that had important shots of angels on it."

He shot Seokmin an accusing look, and Seokmin lowered his eyes in shame.

"Oh god, I was so scared," Seungcheol sobbed. "I thought we were going to lose you."

Seokmin felt his lungs filling up with a kind of anguish that threatened to drown him. It felt so horribly wrong to see Jihoon in Seungcheol's arms instead of his own. It felt so wrong for Jihoon to be angry with him.

He avoided Jihoon's gaze for the rest of the day as they returned home from their mission early. Besides Jihoon's lost camera, it was a modestly successful mission. Soonyoung's team found valuable bodies of fresh water, and Seungcheol's team collected enough information about the landscape to begin sketching out a map. Jeonghan and Jisoo retreated from the forest as soon as they heard the first skyquake, so only Jihoon's team returned to the city empty-handed.

The vision haunted Jihoon. It was a single, obsessive thought that occupied his mind for the entire evening as his friends laughed and talked without a care in the world. The more he thought about the vision, the more Jihoon grew certain that he could change it. He could stop it from happening if he could prevent Seokmin from entering the forest again. It wouldn't be difficult. He could talk to Seungcheol about it.

While the rest of his teammates celebrated a safe return, Seokmin sulked off to his dorm room by himself to brood. He couldn't understand why Jihoon was so mad at him for trying to save him. Jihoon didn't seem to be upset about the lost camera so much as the fact that Seokmin even tried to rescue him in the first place. It was all about disobeying orders, but Seokmin was sure that there were some rules that were meant to be broken.

He was sitting on the floor, absentmindedly tossing and catching a rubber ball when Jihoon finally returned.

For a moment, Seokmin saw something infinitely fragile and infinitely suffering in Jihoon's eyes. And then his eyes turned to steel.

"I'm not taking you on any more missions," Jihoon said in a clipped voice.

Seokmin's face drained, and he clenched his fists so hard the peaks of his knuckles turned bone-white.

"Why?" he asked, hoping that he had just heard Jihoon incorrectly.

Jihoon fought to keep his expression blank, his voice detached.

"You disobeyed my orders," he said simply, but there were undertones teeming beneath the surface when he spoke.

He wanted to say that he almost lost Seokmin and didn't want to risk losing him again. But it was his duty not to let his personal feelings get in the way, so he had to make an excuse. An excuse that Seokmin would have no choice but to respect, and most importantly, believe .

"Tell me the truth," Seokmin growled, his jaw taut with anger.

Jihoon had to think quickly.

"It's because you're incompetent," Jihoon spat out. The words burned like venom on his tongue.

It's because I love you , he wished that he could say.

Jihoon couldn't properly express how scared and overwhelmed he was, so it just all came out as anger. He wished that he didn't have to use Seokmin's incompetence as an excuse to keep him safe.

"You couldn't even rescue me properly,” Jihoon continued. “There is crucial evidence laying out there in the woods thanks to your incompetence. Your special ops status has been revoked, and you've been temporarily demoted to sanitation duty."

Raw hurt flickered over Seokmin's face before it clouded into icy blankness.

"Fine," Seokmin sighed. He turned away, and it was like the sun froze over.

Jihoon knew that he would be upset, but he wasn't sure how Seokmin’s anger would manifest itself.

Jihoon had lost his temper often when he was still a trainee, before he learned how to control his emotions. He knew what anger looked like. It was a hot feeling, heat that spread from his chest to his head, clouding his ability to think. But Seokmin's anger was a different breed. His anger was cold, and his silence was frigid.

Seokmin crawled into his own top bunk that night, and Jihoon didn't follow him. The dead air between them was like a total solar eclipse.

"Jihoon?" Seokmin whispered quietly, leaning over the edge of his bed. "Jihoon, are you awake?"

He crawled down his ladder and pulled back the covers to check that Jihoon was indeed asleep. Seokmin poked Jihoon's cheek a few times, but he didn't stir.

The night sky was pitch black, so Seokmin got dressed by the light of his flashlight. There was only one way for Seokmin to stay with Jihoon and join him on future missions. And that would be to prove to Jihoon that he really was competent enough to face the angels again.

He had stayed awake all night thinking about his plan. He would sneak out and retrieve the lost camera. Nobody would be able to accuse him of being incompetent.

Seokmin searched through Jihoon's drawers for his access card. He found it on top of crumpled sheets of paper with strange writing on them. He recognized the black dots and lines as music notes.

So Jihoon could read music. Seokmin had never met anyone who could read music. It was one of those languages that was on the verge of extinction, like Latin.

Seokmin pocketed the access card, and he folded up a sheet of Jihoon's music to keep in his pocket for good luck. Then he quietly snuck out of the room with one final glance back at Jihoon, still fast asleep.

The news that Seokmin had gone missing was a knife plunged into Jihoon's belly, cutting cleanly through layers of tissue before the shock could properly set in.

When Jihoon and the members of Valor finally found him in the middle of the forest, suddenly that knife in his belly was serrated, and he felt every tooth in its blade tearing through his flesh. The edge was blunt and jagged, and it twisted painfully inside his gut when Jihoon found Seokmin’s body. He looked exactly like he had in Jihoon's nightmares and visions.

Crumpled.

Broken.

Feathers.

Seokmin was swept away by medics, who promptly threaded tubes and needles through him. He was hanging onto life by a strand.

Jihoon was taken to a dark conference room. He was presented to a long, rectangular table where commanders and other important looking officials were seated. Their faces were all blurry and indistinct to Jihoon. He couldn't tell any of them apart.

"We are sorry for what happened to your friend," one of the officials said.

Jihoon couldn't bring himself to respond.

"What he did was incredibly brave. He risked his life to bring valuable information back to us. We are grateful for his service," another official said.

It might have been the same one who had just spoken. Jihoon didn't notice or care.

He wanted to tell them that Seokmin didn't risk his life out of some stupid sense of service. It was Jihoon's fault that Seokmin went back out there. It was Jihoon's own failure as a leader and as a friend.

"We heard that you came into close contact with some angels and that they even communicated with you," another man said. "Is it true?"

Nobody in the room seemed to care that Jihoon strayed from their plan by approaching the angels. All they cared about was the information he obtained.

Jihoon nodded numbly.

"What did the angels say?"

Jihoon told them what the angels said to him. That the angels were afraid that humans would try to hurt them. That there would be a war.

The room broke into murmurs at the mention of war.

"You said that the war would be over quickly?" someone asked.

Jihoon nodded.

"This was inevitable! They've been preparing for conflict, and so should we!" someone else said. The person's voice sounded triumphant.

"Very well," a deep, resounding voice said. Jihoon was certain that this person had not spoken before. "We have been living in fear of a war with the angels since we discovered their existence. It seems that our fears were true."

"Yes," another voice agreed. A woman's this time. "Which is why we have been developing weapons for years to use against the angels. And now that we have a better idea of the nature of those monsters, we can be fully prepared."

Jihoon almost wanted to remind them that it was the angels who lived in fear of the humans. But nobody seemed to care that they were setting the prophecy into motion themselves. And at this point, Jihoon didn't care.

It was his fault that Seokmin was nearly dead. It didn't matter to Jihoon anymore that the start of the angel war would also be his fault.

"Thank you for your bravery and excellence, Lee Jihoon," that deep voice said again. "We are grateful for your service, and for your friend's service too. As a token of our gratitude, we have prepared a cryogenic chamber for him."

Jihoon's pulse jumped in his throat. Cryonic preservation was a standard procedure for outstanding young officers who were mortally wounded. But as far as Jihoon knew, none of frozen bodies had been revived yet.

"When will Seokmin be revived?" Jihoon asked shakily.

"When we need more bodies for the angel war," someone said.

The room shook with raucous laughter, and Jihoon felt sick to his stomach. Seokmin was better off dead.

Three days later, Seokmin’s heart stopped beating, and something died inside of Jihoon too.

A team of doctors and cryonic specialists took Seokmin’s body to a cavernous room buried deep underground. The walls were lined with cryogenic chambers. Jihoon didn’t dare look at the faces of the people who were frozen inside.

Seungcheol was there too, but everyone else was either training or on patrol duty. Jihoon was glad that he and Seungcheol were the only ones who came. It was horrible to watch Seokmin being lowered into ice.

How could someone so alive be in a place like this? Jihoon wondered.

He felt detached, like he was watching the scene from someone else’s body. Nothing felt real to Jihoon. He was being consumed by numbness, his mind filled with black static.

“I’m going to miss him,” Seungcheol said.

Jihoon didn’t say anything. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t feel. His sleep was fraught with nightmares about losing Seokmin, and he had seen Seokmin’s death play out in front of him so many times that he was numb to the real thing.

Seungcheol escorted Jihoon back to his dorm room.

“Are you feeling alright?” he asked, holding Jihoon by the shoulders.

Jihoon nodded silently and shrugged away from Seungcheol’s touch.

“Well, you know I’m here for you if you ever need to, you know, talk. Or something.”

Jihoon nodded again and closed the door, shutting himself away.

Their room felt terribly empty and quiet without Seokmin’s presence.

Jihoon turned the light on. It cast an ugly orange glow across the room. Seokmin’s bed was empty, completely stripped bare of sheets and pillows. His other belongings had also vanished. All signs that Seokmin had once lived here, with Jihoon—gone.

That was what unraveled him. Grief tore suddenly through Jihoon without warning. It skewered and splintered him. If Jihoon had felt nothing before, now he felt too much. He realized that he couldn’t bear staying here any longer, not in this room, not in this building, not within the suffocating walls of this cramped city.

So Jihoon left. He fled the city and ran. He kept running until he was far away from either humans or angels. Nobody looked for him.

He hid like a coward as the war against the angels raged on in the distant horizon. Mechanically, Jihoon went through the motions of living and surviving, but his thoughts were far away. His heart was buried deep somewhere underground where Seokmin was encased in ice.

Years later, the world was finally silent. There were no more distant gunshots or skyquakes. By then, Jihoon was certain that everyone who remembered him would be dead. It was time for Jihoon to return.

The place where there once stood a sprawling city was obscured in smoke. Jihoon smelled the acrid, burning odor before he could make out the shadow of a jagged skyline. The walls that once stood around the city were completely burned to the ground.

Jihoon stepped over the rubble and found crumbled apartment buildings and entire blocks of stores in flames. The city was nothing but ashes, and the parts that weren’t ashes were in flames.

Movement shifted in the distance. Jihoon walked slowly, then started running when he heard cheerful whistling. The sound was jarring in this gray, barren landscape. Soon, Jihoon could make out a figure through the dust and smoke. He saw a man happily collecting scraps of metal as he whistled to himself.

How could someone so alive be in a place like this? Jihoon wondered.

As he drew closer, he noticed that the man wasn’t entirely human. Some patches of flesh were burned away, revealing mechanical joints and wiring underneath his skin. He was a human who had undergone repairs.  

“Oh!” the man said when he saw Jihoon standing there. “Why hello there. Are you looking for something?”

Jihoon’s throat suddenly felt tight when he caught sight of the man’s achingly familiar eyes. He would recognize those smiling chestnut eyes anywhere. Same went for that graceful jaw, those sharp cheekbones, and the odd dimple on his chin.

“I’m looking for someone I was in love with,” Jihoon said in a ragged voice. It hurt to speak.

The man smiled sadly and said, “I hope you find him.”

He began to turn away, and then Jihoon said, “Seokmin.”

The word was electric.

“Seokmin,” the man repeated slowly. He said it again, felt how it tasted in his mouth. And then his breaths turned shuddery. “I haven’t heard that name in so long. I almost forgot it belonged to me.”

Tears started rolling down Seokmin’s cheeks, hot and alive, and Jihoon wiped them away with the pads of his thumbs.

“Jihoon?” Seokmin asked hoarsely. “You’re alive?”

“I should be asking you the same question,” Jihoon said. He smiled for the first time in years, and suddenly the tears clouding his vision spilled over.

Seokmin wanted to explain how they revived him near the end of the angel war, how everyone had started evacuating the city before he had a chance to fight, how their friends were convinced that Jihoon was dead. Seokmin had stayed in the city long after the war ended in case Jihoon ever returned. He had been alone for so long that he forgot who he was.

As much as he wanted to tell Jihoon these things, Seokmin swallowed it all down because Jihoon was right there , his face so lovely and inviting and alive . Seokmin closed his eyes and Jihoon closed his eyes too, and their lips connected in a kiss that was fraught with silent years of aching emotions.

“I’m never letting you go again, not even if the world ends,” Jihoon whispered fiercely.

And he held onto Seokmin, and the world burned around them.