“… so delicate, but potent. It makes us a bit more human--is that ache in your heart for a place [or someone] that no longer exists... a sneaky magician. One that takes us by surprise in the most lucid way possible.”
― Efrat Cybulkiewicz
It was the summer of nineteen-seventeen. Hot, warm and burning, the sun was shining in the middle of the sky, so bright and sharp that it hurt anyone’s eyes by tilting their head a bit up to the sky. They were all fighting… everyone. Young teenagers and retired elderly. It was a war anyway, it was meant to be fought but it hurt anyone’s heart when they came back half of the quantity that went. War was ruining cities, snatching the joy of summer fruits and the smell of it and replacing it with the scent of death and blood. War is an ugly thing, but not the ugliest of things: the decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling which thinks that nothing is worth a war, is much worse. When people are used as mere human instruments for firing cannon or thrusting bayonets, in the service and for the selfish purposes of a master, such war degrades a people. A war to protect other human beings against tyrannical injustice; a war to give victory to their own ideas of right and good, and which is their own war, carried on for an honest purpose by their free choice, — is often the means of their regeneration. A man who has nothing which he is willing to fight for, nothing which he cares more about than he does about his personal safety, is a miserable creature who has no chance of being free, unless made and kept so by the exertions of better men than himself. As long as justice and injustice have not terminated their ever-renewing fight for ascendancy in the affairs of mankind, human beings must be willing, when need is, to do battle for the one against the other.
There were words spreading between the troops fighting in the mountain that the war would end soon. It was silly to believe, impossibly naive when you are fighting in the battle days and nights, watching fights, victories, failures and all but still hope was an undying immortal bud of emotion for human species, everyday fighters arise from their so called to be bed with hope of winning, not for winning but at least staying alive for at least a day more. Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul. and sings the tune without the words… And never stops at all. The summer ended soon, so soon when you are busy fighting for your life all the time. Autumn came in a flooding rush, rain thick and heavy looking like a storm and making hearts feel heavy while bleeding for the loss of the beloved ones.
War absolutely didn't end that year, not like anyone got disappointed as they readied themselves to fight and fight more like addicts. But it came to a halt, a momentary pause as to refill the sources and renew forces besides getting additional human-force. The pause would not last forever but it would be enough time to be ready and powerful for the next fight. The surviving troops were sent back through Milano. Some passed through to Roma and Napoli and others toward the countryside where the meadows were untouched without the destruction of the war, so it was like going back to the time where war has not started yet, where war was not shadowing every conversation and every mind.
_______
It was in the middle of October when Seokjin passed through Roma, the beautiful city under the dust of exhaustion and tiredness Seokjin could feel it in his bones. But it wasn't until a few days later that he reached Napoli, The city that was situated on the gulf, on the western coast of southern italy; it aroused from sea level. That was between two notable volcanic regions, Mount Vesuvius and the Phlegraean Fields. There was a villa that housed soldiers of the troops from the war till they were called back to the war, and until then it was just resting and regaining the long lost youthful energy of the soldiers.
“There you are!” came a sound from behind as he was wandering in the corridors of the villa on the first flat. He turned around then, saw the dazzling dimples of the other with bright eyes and shiny smile. Seokjin felt calm and content already.
“Hoseok,” he exclaimed as they shared a tight and firm embrace.
“Where have you been?” Hoseok asked, still hugging the older tightly. “I have been here all by myself for days,”
“In Milano,” Seokjin answered as he ruffled the younger’s rough hair from all the sun shining on top of their head and damaging their hair.
“What took you so long in Milano?”
“Nothing… then I got to the Roma.” Seokjin stated, envying the clean skin of the younger soldier while he was sweaty, dirty and dusty for who knows how many days.
“And what was in Roma that kept you?”
“Nothing,” Seokjin smiled. He patted a hand to Hoseok’s shoulder. “Nothing important.”
“Oh, was it a woman? Was she very beautiful?”
“Not a woman.”
“A man, then. Tell me everything. Did you fall in love?”
“Not a man either.”
“Then, truly,” Hoseok inquired, “nothing?”
“I am not you,” Seokjin said without hesitation. “Not every beauty from human races make me stop on my way and take my time for themselves.”
With barking laughter that echoed greatly,Hoseok pounded a fist to Seokjin’s chest. “You've just returned and already you want to fight! Haven't you had enough fighting in the war?”
It was amazing to see Hoseok again, amazing to meet him after all they fought. As they were fighters, they were hopeful too but always, always there was a fear of never seeing each ther again, the fear of never seeing the loved ones again. A devastating fear that was pushed aside in their minds because war is not a place to give your thoughts to emotions and lingering feelings. You have to fight. And just that only.
So seeing Hoseok was lovely. For a period of time knowing they were safe and sound… and together. It was a wave of security washing over Seokjin’s heart and he inhaled deeply again, pleased that the air did not have any smell of blood.
“You have missed me,” Hoseok whispered with a dazzling smile, making Seokjin look at him fondly.
“I need to shower… i look not so suitable for this place and nor as a companion for you,”
“Then, go, shower. And tonight, we'll go out.” He grabbed Seokjin by the shoulders and pulled
him close so that the bridge of his nose pressed into the flesh of Seokjin’s cheek. “We will go
for a drink and have a nice time like we did before the summer. Do you remember?”
“I remember,” it was a pleasant memory.
“You don't want to go?” Hoseok asked with a smile.
Seokjin shoves the other away by his hand on the small of Hoseok’s waist, “is this only why we came to Napoli? To have drinks? Is that what we are here for?”
“We are here for a rest! Drinking is a way of relaxing isn't it?” Hoseok laughed along with the older and the laughter they shared was so lovely after such a longtime. Such a damn long time that made Seokjin’s heart ache. He couldn't deny or reject. He wanted to rest. He wanted company and he wanted a decent meal for he had not eaten anything fulfilling after Roma.
“Eyes so young, so full of pain ... Two lonely drops of winter rain ... And no tear could these eyes sustain ... For too much had they seen.”
― Shaun Hick
Seokjin came out of the shower nice and clean. Feeling like a decent human after so much time he had lost the quantity. There was a freshness on skin and a settling of cleanse on his heart. He had never thought of showering so spiritual and connected to his soul like this but screw him if his soul had not refreshened after this hot shower.
He walked out of the villa where some soldiers were smoking before he lit a cigarette and waited for Hoseok to join him. It didn't take long for the other to reach out and stand next to him.
“I forgot how handsome you are when you are not dirty,” Hoseok said, “not that you are not handsome when you are dirty and when you are fighting… but now, ethereal to have you here… bel soldato ”
They walked shoulder by shoulder in the same uniforms just like twin brothers before they walked into a small restaurant and ordered their food alongside a bottle of red wine. They didn't talk about war and how it had been fighting and risking, they didn't talk about the lack of security nor in the day or night, they did not spare a word about war but instead they talked about the cities they had been to on the way to get to Napoli.
Hoseok, the lovely boy, hadn't ever met the sea. He was amazed and dazed by the beauty of the blue.
“I almost cried when I saw it… the miraculous, almost holy blue… and the mountains! There had been so much glory in nature after leaving the war, it is like I needed the war to understand how beautiful everything in itself is,” Hoseok said as he was sipping wine slowly.
“Has this country made you a romantic?”
“Is it possible to come somewhere like here and not return home in love with it?”
“You've forgotten the fighting,” Seokjin said as his heart beat fast at the rush of memories. Sad and sorrowful ones.
“Maybe. I tend to not think about it very often but the thoughts come some nights when I can't sleep but i don't think about it a lot because of this… the new realization let’s say.”
Seokjin could still remember. The days he had newly stepped in italy when the war had yet to start, the time he had seen art and had great company, he could remember the rush of thrill while exploring everywhere he could and he was happy to be there, glad that he came here.
“It is still beautiful… everything about here, the air and the sea, the meadows and greens… but thinking about mountains makes me think about war” Seokjin said.
“Don't think of this tonight. It is a night when we can be ourselves like we used to be… we can have fun like that… for once in a long time, we are not here to fight.”
“How long have you been in Napoli?”
“Two weeks. Maybe a little longer. I was worried you would not come. I thought. . .do you want to
know what I thought?”
“I know what you thought,” Seokjin said. “I thought the same.”
Beneath the table the pressure of Hoseok’s foot rested atop Seokjin’s own. It was a brief touch.
One that would go unnoticed by those around them, but provided what comfort was necessary.
Seokjin laughed softly.
“You're still sentimental,” he said.
“Does war change that in a man?”
“Sometimes.”
“No matter how much suffering you went through, you never wanted to let go of those memories.”
― Haruki Murakami
When they finished their meal and their wine too, they ordered another bottle of wine and in the middle of talking and conversing about what was old and new they finished that too, by the time they left the restaurant Seokjin was warm, very happy and almost giddy.
“I don't think I can drink more tonight,” Seokjin said, he touched his ears as he felt them burning in hasty drunknes.
“Then don't drink anymore, hyung… we can talk and spend time together… there is a place i heard other troops talk about and I wanted to go there, it is a cafe but not quite a cafe as they sing there too,”
“Is there dancing?”
“No… no i don't think so… but, can you imagine us dancing like this?” as Hoseok motioned to his uniform before he swung his arm around Seokjin’s neck and pulled him closer.
If Hoseok had not been this excited, Seokjin would want to go to the villa but seeing his friend so happy and so bright like the sunshine he used to be. He couldn't voice any objection. So they followed the road away from the shops and the restaurants and the cafes then came to a place beyond the town apartments
where the streets lit up alive with tawny light. The air smelled of good wine and beer. It was the smell of a youth Seokjin had almost forgotten and to stand there, amidst the alpenglow of sunset, admiring the drunkards as they latched onto another as if their lives so dearly depended on the man by his side, Seokjin felt very happy.
“You might find a nice woman here,” Hoseok teased lightly.
“You know I am not interested in women, Hoseok,”
“I know but… if you were,”
The cafe was dim and dark, it had a warmth that Seokjin had missed a long time ago. The drunken soldiers were chatting and laughing, there were girls serving drinks and Seokjin could understand why this place was known. One did not have to look to see why this was a place greatly talked about. The music was sultry as a summer day and posed as a backdrop to a world unremembered by men of war. The beating of drums replaced the death call of the airplanes and of bombers that circled the mountains. It gave a new meaning, however fleeting, to life.
They took seats around a cafe and ordered drinks before, “maybe you will find a woman tonight?” Seokjin said not joking at all.
“I am too tired and too drunk for that tonight hyung… but i would, on any other night I would,”
“That would be a first,” Seokjin joked.
And they laughed, easily and happily as the music changed. A chill ran through Seokjin’s body as music turned to something lively and lovely like one you can hear in american movies.
Hoseok stretched his arms, “I don't know why I am so tired these days… I have done nothing, like, I haven't even been out of the villa these last two weeks, yet I am so tired. Do you know what I am talking about?”
Seokjin knew. He glanced at Hoseok momentarily and it was obvious, Hoseok was tired, his eyes… his eyes weren't like it used to be, tired and dullen… like he had been sleep-deprived. He could sense this tiredness all around the room, maybe every single man in this cafe could feel this. Seokjin understood this tiredness very well. Bone-wrecking tiredness.
“You still have time to rest, Seokie…”
“Gross… don't call me that. Besides, I have been resting all these two weeks, this morning till evening but I got up from bed like a dead man.” Hoseok sipped from his drink, “it is actually worse to be lying around and resting.”
And suddenly, Seokjin felt so lonely. A loneliness coming from all the amity around them, firm, close and it made Seokjin feel like he wanted to stand up, go amidst them and make new friends, Italian friends like he had with people he fought. But it was unlike him to do such a thing. He understood at once he was drunk and getting drunker.
“I am going to get something to eat,” Seokjin whispered as he touched the younger’s shoulder.
“Eat again? You drank too fast…” Hoseok stated.
“Is it obvious?”
“Your cheeks are rosy and your ears are red cutely though,” Hoseok pestered, “you are handsome even drunk… as I said you have to find a woman,”
“I’ve told you Seokie…” he whined. “I do not want women” he felt tired and he felt like he was boring the other too.
“If I leave, will you stay here alone?” he asked.
“I will be fine on my own if that's what you mean,” Hoseok said, grinning. “Why don't you have a cigarette first? Clear your head and maybe you will be all right then.”
“Yes, alright...”
He walked out to clear out the steam of alcohol that had been all over him and lit up a cigarette. He smoked a few times repeatedly and felt fine when a soldier by the entrance asked for a cigarette. Smiled sweetly when Seokjin offered him so.
“You were there in Gorizia. I thought you looked familiar and now I know.”
Seokjin could not place the man's face to a name, but remembered him vaguely as he remembered all those he fought beside. To make up for his failed memory, he took the soldier's hand and told him to come have a drink inside.
“Another time,” he said. “I have somewhere to be. But, yes, another time.”
Seokjin did not let his relief show as the man left. And alone again, he lit another cigarette and smoked it slowly.
When he walked back inside it was damp and humid, the music had stopped and the stage looked dark and dull. Hoseok was at their table with a woman who was too close to his face offering him an American brand of cigarettes. Jaehwan paid for the cigarettes which in return paid for a short amount of the girl's time. She stayed beside him and lowered herself into his lap, asking for stories of the war. She wanted to know how a foreigner had gotten into the Italian army.
“You are a foreigner too, right?” she asked Seokjin.
“Yes”
“Why did you join the army?”
“I was in Italy,” Seokjin said. “I spoke Italian. I thought, why not?”
“You are brave to join an army that is not yours. That is admirable.”
Seokjin accepted her compliments with a smile that he knew was sweet, but internally agreed to none. He did not join the army to be a noble in Italy but not to be deported back to Korea, he and Hoseok knew that all too well. Which was why they were now here.
“You are brave too!” Hoseok told her. “You come here every night and have to deal with these animals. What a brave girl.”
She looked at Hoseok with eyes that shined and it was then Seokjin realized she was beautiful. Out of respect he left the table and went to the counter where he ordered a whiskey and sipped it slowly. He took a seat at the bar and watched the stage as it changed the lights, the woman who was previously singing was now amongst the audience watching the stage. He could see her posture, her hair, her shiny but simple outfit and he could see the anticipation in her eyes that he felt as he stared at the stage. The lights shimmered slightly, brightening in the center of the stage where a tall microphone stood unattended. Then, very suddenly, like an apparition or something divine, a boy stepped into the light dressed handsomely in a tailored suit. Taking Seokjin’s breath away at the first glimpse.
“Hey soldato,...” the cigarette girl came closer to him, “your friend is waiting for you” she said as she pointed to Hoseok who was watching the stage as well.
Seokjin thanked her but did not go at once to the table but continued to watch the stage as the band members eased into a slow, melancholic song that was not like anything Seokjin had heard before. It was an English song and the boy sang it well. One could tell by the crooning of his voice that it was a song of heartache; it spread heavily through the cafe, forcing the troops to simmer in their excitement. It was not a song one talked over. He was lovely—and there was nothing more Seokjin could say. He was lovely and lovelier still with every passing moment. He was an anxious creature with trembling hands which gripped the microphone tightly, but his voice was steady, like something dreamed up.
When Seokjin walked to the table, he turned his gaze from the stage for a moment. He regretted it immediately.
Hoseok looked at him with a shiny beautiful smile, and knowing eyes. “ And now you’ve fallen in love, ”
“Shut up,”
“Why don't we move to a table closer to the stage? You will be able to see him better from there”
“You go.”
“You won't come?”
“No.”
“Afraid to look desperate?”
“I will leave you,” Seokjin said irritably. “I will go back to the villa and leave you here and you can be an ass on your own.” Hoseok laughed. “You are being a baby! Why do you want to act like this, baby? All right. I'll be quiet. You can watch your boy and I'll sit here and be quiet. Act like I'm not here.”
Seokjin didn't answer, he did not speak. Just watched the stage and the boy singing on it, and never looked away until he stopped thinking. He watched him as another song started, he watched him with the same amount of interest and he didn't notice when Hoseok left to buy a drink nor when he came back with drinks in his hands. He just knew the music, the lovely voice of the boy who was singing from sorrows and pain which Seokjin knew very well.
It was a long time later, but not enough for Seokjin when Hoseok leaned closer.
“I am tired,” he whispered.
“You should go home.... To the villa. Rest so you can feel better tomorrow”
“You wont come with me?” Hoseok asked.
“Later, I will.”
Hoseok patted Seokjin’s shoulder as he stood up, “ah right… go to your boy. The lovely singing boy with his lovely voice. And let me know how it went tomorrow,”
“Go to hell,” Seokjin said dearly.
They did not embrace, but stood with heads bowed closely together in acknowledgment. Then Jaehwan left, teetering on his small feet as he was swept by the winds down the road toward the sea.
The music stopped and the boy spoke out toward the audience, asking, “Have I dampened the mood? It's so quiet here now.”
A few soldiers responded with soft laughter, others with drinks raised.
"Let's end with something livelier now, so we can get back to where we were before.” An eruption of noise urged the boy on, who called out grazie, grazie! as the band began to play a strange tune. It was all noisy and very loud. It was not a type of music Seokjin had heard and wondered if it was something new—brought over from the west, perhaps, where music thrived greatly.
It was then, as the song progressed, that Seokjin rose from the table and walked slowly, quietly, from the dining area toward the side of the stage where he stood with a lighted cigarette, watching very closely to the performance.
He stopped a girl passing by and asked, “what’s his name? The boy”
“Taehyung,” she responded, “you like him?”
~~~~~~~~
so basically, I read this fic called Across The Northern, LeoBin from VIXX. and I fell in love with it...
then I started listening to some old style sad, love music while I was cooking and I thought about writing a my version of this story with my ultimate fav ship TaeJin... the plot is almost the same, I was inspired by this fic anyway but the rest is me and my writing and my creativity.
I deeply hope you like it, cause I loved it while reading.
give me your thoughts. comments are highly appreciated.