A/N: Thank you amelinasa Am and @chumchururum Nad for the brilliant idea that inspired this story. Also, thank you Nad for the amazing cover!
To sawyerdavenport , my favorite expert negotiator.
Set in the period spanning the Korean War and its immediate aftermath, this story will explore mature themes of loss, grief, PTSD, disability and more.
I hope you enjoy this story.
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22 December, 1953.
It was always silence like this, when the memories in his head were the loudest.
Bone-chilling screams, the acrid smell of gunpowder, the sick splatter of life blood and its metallic stench...the stench that he could not wash away no matter how hard he tried.
He killed, he came close to being killed.
Such was war, simple as that.
He wished he could sleep so he could forget, but the mind was traitorous.
There were nights he dreamt in such vivid detail that he woke up in confusion, forgetting for a fraction of a second that everything had changed.
For the minutes that followed the shock in that waking moment, his older brother's untimely death would sink in.
He would then be wracked by grief all over again, staying awake till sunrise hoping the pain would fade, silently mourning the loss of things he could never replace.
"It's a cold night." A soft feminine voice sliced through his thoughts, jolting Ri Jeong Hyeok back to his peaceful reality. "Did I interrupt you?"
To his surprise, it was a face from the past— the Seoul governor's daughter, Yoon Seri.
In that instant, when he had thought he was going to succumb to his inner demons again, her voice came as salvation. It was real, and it kept him grounded to the moment.
"No, not at all." He planted his feet firmly to the ground and pulled himself into a standing position from the wrought iron garden swing, bowing in greeting.
"May I join you?" Her presence was large despite the petit frame, commanding attention effortlessly. Jeong Hyeok hadn't been looking for companionship, but he wasn't looking to reject it either.
"Of course."
Gripping the bitterly cold ornate iron frame, he steadied the swing, allowing for the lady to seat herself in it.
A gentle pat on the space beside her was his invitation to join her on the swing.
"It has been awhile. Why are you out here, Captain Ri?" Seri asked, her rouged lips upturned at the edges. "Is the party not to your expectations?"
"Nothing of that sort, Miss Yoon. It is most generous and kind of the governor to host a party in our honor."
Her eyes twinkled with a light he hadn't seen in a long while-- not out there on the battlefield, and most certainly, not in the face staring back at him in the mirror.
"That doesn't answer my question."
That drew an inaudible chuckle from Jeong Hyeok in the form of a fleeting, misty cloud in the chilly air.
"I am here because I do not personally see a cause for celebration."
Same reasons, she quietly thought, prompting him to speak further with a warm nod.
"We didn't win. It is anything but victory." The Captain replied, wearing a wistful smile on his lips. "War, be it in the form of force, or intellectual domination, is barbaric. Especially when the motivation is greed, masked under the lofty ideas of principles and ideology."
The harsh truth rendered Seri silent; bloodchilling cries, endless suffering and the stench of death lurked like a dark cloud over the celebrations.
These celebrations were nothing more than what the rich and powerful used to fool themselves into thinking their cause was right, and that the blood-stained victory was sweet.
"What was obtained by force, has to be safeguarded by force. It is a never-ending cycle of antagonism. Everyone loses, Miss Yoon. Everyone."
She nodded in agreement. To be honest, as a civilian, Seri had no idea what the future now held for this country.
Korea was now split into two along the 38th parallel into the Democratic People's Republic of Korea, or DPRK, in the north, and The Republic of Korea, or ROK, in the south.
But it wasn't peace that lingered in the hearts of the Korean citizens now that the Soviet Union had withdrawn its forces, and US troops were in the process of doing so. Attempts at administration by a US-Soviet Joint Commission had yielded limited success— riots, protests, boycotts had soon followed.
These foreign forces had the option to leave this mess behind, Seri thought bitterly. But what about the people of Korea?
The North was repeatedly dehumanized and debased in their eyes, shown to be barbarous and cruel. No one trusted anyone.
But both sides lost good people. Many, many good people.
All they had now, was war-ravaged land, festering social issues and an angry, raw wound to live with. Refugees were stranded on both sides of the constructed divide in what used to be one country, with families brutally torn apart.
"All I see for now, are broken people and broken dreams, Miss Yoon." Jeong Hyeok said ruefully.
Try as he might, he still couldn't come to terms with why he lived when so many other men died. He couldn't even speak the names, or visualize the smiles of his fallen friends without bracing his face to stiffness.
"What do you see?"
Captain Ri's words struck a chord in her heart, and she turned to regard him, face to face.
She saw a broken man. Under that seemingly infallible, resilient facade was vulnerability.
"I see hope, Captain." The governor's daughter replied, not tearing her eyes off his face. "We are on a road of no return."
Silence, tensed yet hopeful, reigned in the space between them. They were so close; he could hear her every breath, and see his face in her midnight eyes.
He didn't quite know her prior to this night, for they had only met once years ago, but there was comfort in the smile this beautiful girl offered.
What he knew about Yoon Seri was that she had bravely thrown her social status aside to serve during the war as a nurse, sometimes at the front lines.
"Broken dreams, we rebuild them." Seri continued, knowing Jeong Hyeok was clinging on to every word from her lips. "Broken people, we heal them."
His eyes, darkened by suffering, widened a fraction. Faintly-chapped lips were parted in surprise, a reaction that told her Ri Jeong Hyeok had forgotten what hope felt like.
Not knowing what else to do for this broken soldier, the governor's daughter raised a hand to his shoulder, patting firmly.
"We let these failures be our education. It is an arduous path to walk, but I have decided to carry the dreams of those who had fallen, and work hard to make a better tomorrow for South Korea."
Underneath her mesmerizing appearance, was resilience that hit him like sunshine in the midnight sky.
Gentle rustling of fabric was heard as Seri lightly hopped off the swing with practiced ease.
"I should head back in there, Captain. My father worries excessively." She added with a smile, in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere. "Would you like to go inside for a warm drink?"
"Sure. Thank you."
It was then when she noticed something that wasn't there from their first meeting two years ago.
The war had taken so much, and of all things it could give, it had given Ri Jeong Hyeok a limp, and a soul scarred beyond imagination.
Watching as he hobbled in her direction, Yoon Seri allowed the memories of that fateful day to revisit her.
January 3, 1951
"Listen to me. You have to go south to Daegu. I am counting on you to take care of your mother, Seri."
"No...please, I am not leaving, Father. I won't leave you behind." She shook her head vehemently, going against her father in a rare act of defiance.
Gripping his daughter by her shoulders, the governor's head was slumped in defeat and desperation.
"Seri. Our 1st division was decimated by the PVA just days ago, and the 2nd and 5th infantry divisions have just been forced to retreat from the 38th parallel. You must leave right away with your mother, some of the US forces are already evacuating Seoul!"
With news of the US forces' retreat, it was almost guaranteed that the Chinese troops would only step up on their attacks on Seoul.
Shaking in disbelief and despondency, Seri could literally feel the warmth abandoning her body as the chilling news set in.
For a moment she fought to make sense of what was going on.
Nothing made sense, it sounded like a nightmare, but nightmares weren't supposed to be so scary, devastating and cataclysmic.
What happened thereafter was a whirlwind of pandemonium in the household; maid-servants were rushing to pack essentials, arrangements for transport were made.
"What about you? Can't you leave with us?" Cradling her father's wizened face with her hands, Seri couldn't hold back on the sob that tore through her lips from her chest.
"The government is reducing manpower to essential personnel for now, but I will catch up, I promise. If I fail to keep this promise, you must take comfort in the knowledge that your father went down defending this city." Yoon Jeung Pyeong was unwavering in his resolve, leaving his only daughter with no choice but to accept this arrangement.
Seri would later find out that most of the civilians in Seoul had either fled south through the frozen Han River or evacuated to the nearby countryside once news of the KPA and PVA's invasion spread.
As she embarked on the nerve-wracking journey by car to the train stations in the outskirts of Seoul with her mother Han Jeong Yeon and one maid-servant in tow, Seri realized that nothing in her twenty years of age had prepared her for the sight that met her eyes.
Seoul was completely unrecognizable.
Savage and furious nations had come together to reduce this city she loved to nothing more than a ghost town in flames-- around her, sprinting on the streets, were people lugging bundles and suitcases. Everyone's faces wore fear and grimness; there was not a glimmer of hope in the situation at hand.
Rendered speechless by the carnage she was witnessing, Seri could only nod reassuringly when Jeong Yeon reached for her hand, gripping it tightly, wordlessly.
It all started four months ago, when Chinese involvement in the war scaled up, with China's People's Volunteer Army (PVA) crossing the Amrok River into South Korea in October 1950 in response to the United Nation's offensive into the North.
It came as a complete surprise of the worst sort; there was no way this could bode well for South Korea, or even the North, for that matter.
It was already a tragedy that the United States and the Soviet Union had each taken over the administration in South and North Korea respectively in the late 1940s, resulting in not just a division of Korea along ideological and geopolitical lines, but rather, two sovereign entities.
For days, Seri had had faith in the UN forces, believing that they could destroy the North Korean Korean People's Army (KPA) completely with the invasion, and achieve the goal of unifying Korea again.
But with the entry of China into the picture in October 1950, based on concerns over the geopolitical balance of power, things took a sinister turn.
The Korean war, a proxy war between the United States and the Soviet Union, was in full swing before anyone knew it.
The UN forces retreated upon the Chinese intervention, only to renew their offensive in late November.
But things didn't get better. If anything, the PVA fought back even more heavily— she cursed herself for her naïveté, for how she had placed so much trust in foreign forces she had never known till now.
New spread like wild flames; by mid-December 1950, it appeared that the 'Home by Christmas' offensive was indeed going to end by Christmas, but not in the way she had prayed for it to.
The decisive Chinese victory in the Battle of Chongchon River, and the heavy casualties suffered by both sides in the Battle of Chosin Reservoir had left the UN forces with no choice but to retreat below the 38th parallel, leaving Western North Korea and Eastern North Korea at the end of December 1950.
Korea's unification wasn't happening.
To add to the worsening situation, the major Chinese PVA victory at Chongchon River had motivated an invasion from the North into the South, as the leaders of the Chinese Communist Party in Beijing sought to pressure the UN troops into withdrawing from the South.
Within days, it became apparent that the UN forces and the US, ROK troops could no longer hold up the defense at the 38th parallel.
On 31 December 1950, the Third Battle of Seoul had officially begun.
Their trusty chauffeur, Mr Hong, pulled the car to a screeching halt at the train station. Frantically, the two female members of the Yoon family alighted with their housekeeper, lugging their belongings in the direction of the train platforms.
Despite their usual good-natured bickering, it was a teary farewell for Seri and Mr Hong, who by now had become an older brother figure to her.
"You have to go now, Miss Yoon."
There was no time to lose, and the loyal chauffeur had sworn on his integrity to stay with the senior Mr Yoon to the very end, come what may.
Supporting her mother with an arm, the governor's daughter strode ahead, willing herself to focus on the task at hand.
Every step sent stabbing pain through her heart; it was so hard leaving her father, and her other non-biological family members behind.
That was when the shrill cry of a child in the distance stopped her dead in her tracks. Whirling around, Seri was met with the sight of a girl of around five or six, sprawled on the floor from a fall, wailing incoherently.
In a considerable distance, she saw a woman frantically trying to push her way through against the direction from endless throngs of people rushing towards the train platforms.
Presuming that that was the mother of the little girl, the governor's daughter came to a hasty decision which she did not even have time to regret.
"Wol Suk, I have to help that child. Take Madam, and board the train first. Please take care of her."
"Seri! Where are you going? What are you doing, my child?" Almost beside herself with anxiety, Han Jeong Yeon screamed hysterically as her only daughter sprinted in the opposite direction.
Everything about her actions went against logic and common sense, but it just didn't feel right to leave a helpless child in the lurch.
"Mother, I'll find you. I'll be fine, I promise!" Seri reassured the older woman, putting distance between them before her voice escalated in a commanding shout over the pandemonium around them. "Go, now! I'll be alright!"
Emotional circuits burning from the spiking adrenaline in her blood, Seri sprinted in the opposite direction in which everyone else was going.
Her legs pumped furiously in her leather Mary Jane buckle shoes, eyes locked on the screaming child who was clutching a doll in a white-knuckled grip.
Panting, drawing deep breaths to steady her pounding heart, she knelt down by the little girl's side to help the latter into a standing position.
"Are you alright? I'll take you to your mother, come with me!"
Half pulling and carrying the child along, the governor's daughter, who had been born with a silver spoon in her mouth, displayed bravery and determination that far transcended her own expectations.
It wasn't until she had led the little girl to her mother in a teary reunion, did Seri realize that two trains had already left the station.
Her mother and maid-servant were nowhere to be seen.
Ear-piercing screams and gunfire could be heard, as explosions seared the air and rocked buildings in the vicinity, eliciting a fresh wave of screams and cries.
Caught by surprise, Seri instinctively raised an arm to shield her face, not knowing what to expect in the next second.
She hadn't even had time to think about the possibility of death, when a very solid, masucline hold literally manhandled her to push her flush against a wall.
Her instinctive scream died in her throat when a hand cupped itself over her mouth, muffling the whimper that involuntarily escaped her chest.
It was a soldier. Her eyes darted to his uniform. A South Korean Captain, to be precise.
He was so tall and painfully good-looking; chiseled features were stained with blood and grime, but steadfast sincerity and integrity shone through.
"You are Governor Yoon's..."
His words died mid-sentence when Seri nodded hastily, her eyes betraying immeasurable fear.
"Shhh." He shushed her, discreetly scanning the vicinity for hostile forces.
Four streets away, hand-to-hand combat was taking place, bloody and savage, as the last of the UN tactical units and ROK troops continued fighting several more holding engagements at the outskirts of Seoul.
The hand covering her mouth was removed, prompting the governor's daughter to instinctively ask.
"Who are you?"
"I am Ri Jeong Hyeok. Captain of the 5th Company, 4th Battalion, 8th Regiment, 1st Infantry Division."
She didn't really register it; her mind didn't have the capacity, but Seri nodded nonetheless, grateful for the help she hadn't expected.
"Yoon Seri."
He knew her name; she was the only daughter of Seoul's Governor Yoon Jeung Pyeong, and Jeong Hyeok had seen her from afar on official appointments in Seoul in the early days of the Cold War.
Her next question was by far, a lot more haunting.
"Is Seoul gone? Is there no longer a future to speak of, for this city?"
Everything around them stood as a testament to how the world had gone wrong.
"Come with me." Not knowing how to answer her question, the soldier took her by the hand, leading her in the direction of the train platforms, clearing a path for her through the throngs of people crowding at the station.
The enemy forces would most certainly launch attacks to disable transport lines from Seoul; he would have to get the governor's daughter to safety as quickly as he could.
Yoon Jeung Pyeong was a respectable man throughout his numerous terms in office. The least he could do for this respected leader was to ensure his daughter's safety.
Seeing that the captain had pointedly disregarded her question, Seri simply said, "I have to board a train to find my mother. She left with one of our maid-servants for Daegu, and I don't know where they are now."
The signboards at the train station were either blacked out, or flickering; there was no order, and everyone was just clambering onto whichever train that came along. Everyone around them was shouting and shouting, there was no way of obtaining any information about the train's destination.
Pushing ahead, the soldier brought her to a carriage which was clearly filling up fast.
"Miss Yoon. You have to leave now."
Seri didn't even know where the train was headed to, but before she could even panic, Jeong Hyeok had spoken again.
"As for your earlier question, even if it is a dream that cannot come true, I'd like to sincerely dream of the future." Ri Jeong Hyeok's voice was a guttural, heartfelt whisper. "We will fight back, and prevail. Have faith."
She didn't know him.
But it was those words of his that lent her the courage to step into that train carriage, and journey into the war-torn unknown on a wrong train.
"I am sorry, I wasn't able to get you onto the right train."
In a display of bravado that shocked even herself, Seri met the soldier's eyes bravely and replied, "Even if this is the wrong train, it might bring me to the right destination."
Gravely, he nodded, before breaking their eye contact to urge her into the train.
"Captain Ri Jeong Hyeok." She called out gratefully to this stranger who knew her name. "Stay safe. I will remember you."
The doors to the train closed.
Almost three years later, silently watching as Ri Jeong Hyeok headed back to the governor's mansion from their garden, passing her by with a pronounced limp, Yoon Seri realized she had always met him in winter.
This time, perhaps, they were at the right destination for friendship.