Criticism and Caveats

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     Chagang stood quietly in the corner of the intact townhouse that Korea had brought the provinces to for their post-engagement criticism session.

     Before the war, criticism had been divided into monthly mass meetings where their people would give them feedback and tips for improvement, and weekly sessions with just the family, with more taking place as needed. Since they had crossed the Parallel, Korea had been taking them aside for private meetings, with the promise that mass meetings would be held after they won.

    Kangwon clasped his hands together as he finished recounting his actions since they had crossed the Kum River.

     “And do you have any criticism for yourself?” Korea asked from the table he was seated at the head of. There had been plates with congealed food on it when they had arrived, but SH had swept them away, scraping the food off and stacking the dishes in anticipation of the homeowner’s return. Lines of smoky grey had risen off her as she had.

    Chagang watched his cousin criticize his response time during the initial attack, as well as a few times he could have acted more deliberately.

    “And the American?”

    Kangwon hesitated, and though he still had the solemn look of someone assessing his faults, Chagang saw anxiety spike off of him.

    After a moment, he said, “I don’t have any criticisms for myself in that situation, Comrade General.”

   “I do,” South Pyongan cut in from where she was draped over a cushion. “You should have let him die.”

    “Seconded,” North Hamgyong growled.

   “Hesitantly thirded,” Hwang added. “Though not so much the ‘let him die’ part. I think you should have investigated whether he had anything to do with the massacre before you tended to him.”

     North Chungcheong nodded. “Fourthed to that one. Should have interrogated him, cuz.”

     The southern provinces had been slightly uncomfortable during the first few criticism sessions, though Chagang knew they had participated in them during the later years of the Occupation. Assessing one’s faults and accepting assessments from others was a hard habit for most to acquire, and with a lapse in the practice, it was easy to fall out of it. Oftentimes criticism sessions were filled with a smoke of uncomfortable chartreuse as people were forced to admit their shortcomings, and stabs of dark red anger or tan hurt as they heard them from others. The outcome Chagang enjoyed was when vivid gold would shoot up as someone realized they had done wrong, and been given advice that would help them change.

      “He can be interrogated now,” Kangwon said to his detractors. “I doubt he would have been very informative dying of blood loss.”

    “Yeah, but you could of put the screws to him when he was injured.” South Pyongan made a confusing motion with her hands that Chagang could not interpret.

    Kangwon raised his eyebrows at her. “You want me to criticize myself for not considering torturing a non-combatant?”

     “They’re all-“

     Korea cut South Pyongan off. “This isn’t a debate, it’s a criticism session. Stay on topic.”

    South Pyongan sat back, seething dark red.

     “Torture is unreliable,” their country continued. “It’s only ever a last resort in an urgent situation. Continue, Kangwon.”

   The stocky man straightened his back. “I only did what protocol says for finding a wounded enemy outside of combat. I performed an emergency medical procedure, then reported his status to the stretcher platoon to have him transported to the hospital. He became a prisoner of war the moment I found him, so I couldn’t just kill him.” He arched a brow at South Pyongan. “We don’t do that.”

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