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Chaos ensues the second they break off into smaller groups. He’s not entirely sure why his faction is headed for the dungeons, and he points it out just as such.
“There’s no escaping this to begin with, sir.”
“So we back ourselves into a corner even more?” he asks incredulously. “We need to fight back. Even if we lose, we won’t go down alone!”
“Ah, young lieutenant, you show your age too much.”
“Captain, I—”
He stammers as they go deeper into the stronghold, the maze of hallways leading to rooms that serve as jail cells for any insurgents they encounter. He vaguely remembers a time when they were filled to capacity, before it quickly dwindled to nothing as executions took place.
“I apologize for not telling you about this plan sooner,” the captain says somberly. “But the less you know of it now, the easier it is to fool everyone.”
“Sir?”
“You’re bait.”
It’s then that he realizes he’s been led into a room at the farthest end of the hall. His eyes widen as two soldiers strip him of his uniform, his weapon, and his identity, leaving him in nothing but his thin undergarments. Another soldier wipes soot on his face and shirt, muttering how he should probably roll on the ground a few times to make the image more believable.
The captain continued to speak as this was happening. “The resistance will be breaking through our doors in a matter of minutes. As much planning we’ve done to counter this attack, there are too many of them. This is our last chance.”
The plan dawns on him before his commanding officer even finished.
“We will leave you here for them to find. Become one of them. Break them from within.”
“Sir, I ca—”
“That’s an order, lieutenant.”
The statement feels like ice water going through his veins, forcing him to stand at attention and give his salute.
“You’re our last hope, lieutenant. May the gods guide you.”
***
The way he cowers in fear when they finally open his holding cell is no act. Not when he’s heard nothing but gunfire and screams for what seemed like hours, only for them to fall into a deafening silence in a matter of minutes.
He knows he’s the last of them.
“We’ve got a prisoner!”
His knees shake as they pull him onto his feet. “No need to be scared, boy. You’re safe now.”
“He’s probably the last in line for execution. It’s a good thing we got here in time.”
He stays silent throughout their exchange, head bowed in hopes to conceal the fury in his eyes.
The two walk him through the same halls he had run through with his captain and their men, wincing at every shadow that passes, knowing that he’s now alone in their plight against the rebels.
He keeps his head down until they make it to the main hall. He inhales sharply when the overwhelming scent of iron reaches his nose, compelling him to finally raise his eyes only to gasp at the sight before him.
Death had come at their door.
But what shocked him the most was the sight of his captain. He was kneeling before who he assumes is the commander of this rebel group, face covered in blood, looking resolute.
“Victory is yours today.”
He blacks out as the last gunshot rings against the walls.
***
He finds himself in an unfamiliar room when he comes to. He takes a slow, sweeping glance across the walls, only to scramble into a sitting position when his eyes meet another’s.
“I mean you no harm. I just came here to check on you. You’ve been sleeping for nearly three days now.”
“Where am I?” His voice is hoarse, throat aching from dryness.
The man walks toward his bedside, making Junmyeon curl tighter into himself. He feels sheepish when he realizes that the man only sought to pour him a glass of water.
“You seem to be doing fine,” the man says in observation. “I guess the excessive sleep was due to stress and dehydration. The doctor said you had no other injuries save from what looked like old wounds. I’m glad we found you alive.”
“Who are you?” he dares to ask.
“My name is Yixing. Zhang Yixing.”
His eyes go wide, head turning slowly to stare in awe at just who was standing before him.
“You’re the rebel prince!”
Yixing lets out a short chuckle, head tilting back in amusement. “Is that what they call me now? That’s one for the books.”
He’s speechless as he tries to come to terms with his situation. They gave him a brief backstory to work with, to help him blend in. But it was nothing to help prepare him for meeting the rebellion’s leader.
“If I was royalty, no rebellion would ever take place. Everyone will be equal and live in harmony. There shall be no war, and most definitely no death.”
Silence falls between them as Yixing’s words hang in the air.
He can understand why this man was chosen to lead the rebel cause. He was charismatic, showing an empathic stance to that of the general public. But society has rules, and the insurgency has broken nearly all of them, including going against everything Yixing had just said.
“You’ve yet to tell me your name. Just who are you?”
“Junmyeon. My name is Kim Junmyeon. I came from a village not too far from the stronghold you found me in. Soldiers had come due to suspicions that we were harboring insurgents.”
“Were you?”
“We were a farming village. Many came to us for rations. There was an apothecary that saw some wounded come for treatments. I still remember the doctor’s son screaming that his father only meant to do his job, regardless which side of the war a person was on.”
“What of your family?”
Junmyeon’s mind flashes back to the last image of the stronghold, bodies of his comrades scattered across the floor, their blood marring the walls, Captain Wu’s last stand.
“All gone. Killed in the name of war.”
“You’re here. You’re safe.”
It takes everything for Junmyeon to not reel back. He’s in a different fight now.
Junmyeon repeats the story he gave Yixing over days and weeks, using the story of one of his village raids with Captain Wu as the backdrop. He adds small details here and there, a patchwork of names and places from the horrors he's witnessed. There are days when he catches himself reeling, his memories showing just how much wrong has been done.
"Have you killed someone before?"
The question pulls Junmyeon back to his current reality, wide eyes meeting inquisitive ones from a young rebel he's come to know as Jongin.
"I'm not asking so I can judge you," he adds. “These are the times we live in after all.”
The statement strikes a chord in Junmyeon, making him ponder what exactly brought civilization to this point. What brought grown men like him and Captain Wu come to blows with young boys like Jongin who had their whole lives ahead of them?
“So have you?”
***
For some reason, Junmyeon finds himself in Yixing’s entourage as they make their way to a different camp.
“How often do you move?”
“Every few weeks,” Yixing replies. “Sometimes more frequently if we catch wind of another raid, or if informants have given us something vital like that of the stronghold we found you in.”
The way Yixing answers sometimes makes Junmyeon feel like everyone can see through him. That one wrong move could mean the end of his life before he can even execute Captain Wu’s final order.
“Get used to it, Junmyeon.”
He lunges forward as Chanyeol claps him on the back. From what he’s learned, he’s one of Yixing’s most trusted commanders. With his towering height and deep voice, his presence was imposing. What unnerves Junmyeon the most is how the man’s facial features are sure to lead many into having a false sense of comfort.
“We can’t be sitting ducks after all,” Chanyeol points out. “Or would you want us to be in the position you were in, waiting for execution and all?”
That feeling of being transparent haunts Junmyeon for the rest of their journey.
***
“What would you do if you were on the other side?”
Junmyeon chokes on his food, taken aback by Jongin’s abrupt question. “Do you think about being on the other side?” he asks back, an attempt to buy himself time to compose himself.
“Yixing does,” Jongin replies. “He tells us to do the same. He says that way we can understand why the war is happening. And that if time comes when we have to draw guns and swords, that we’re pointing them in the right way. That it’s not just senseless killing to incite fear in civilians. That we’re not part of this fight just so we can exact blind vengeance on our oppressors. That we’re doing this because we want what’s best for our people.”
Junmyeon breathes deeply, slowly easing the pain of all the words Jongin had just said.
“Sometimes I wonder if the government and the military does the same,” Jongin continues. “Don’t they ever think twice about the harm they bring to us? I know Yixing and the commanders before him just wanted to be heard. That the plight of the people is for things to be fairer between the social classes. It’s not a lot to ask, is it? To be treated equal? To be able to feel human?”
Junmyeon doesn’t sleep very well that night.
***
The time does come when Junmyeon has to put himself on the other side. Their side. And he’s not sure what to think of himself when his first thought is to hope that he doesn’t have to kill someone he knows.
He’s even more perplexed at the relief of coming across the party of a captain he’s never even heard about.
As the rest of the rebel side combs the site, Junmyeon stares at the blood on his hands.
***
“The way you fought out there caught Chanyeol’s attention,” Yixing says, sitting himself beside Junmyeon when all he really wanted was to be left alone. “He’s of the impression that you’ve done this before.”
It’s scary how Junmyeon’s responses are automatic, citing off those names and places of the people he once came across, spinning them into a story to make it his own. Kyungsoo, the doctor’s son. Baekhyun, the loud-mouthed activist. Sehun, the messenger boy caught between Senator Han and one rebel commander named Kim Minseok. He remembers Captain Wu’s last words to him, and how he couldn’t even laugh when Jongdae told him to roll around on the floor.
The memories blur together, but the spark in Yixing’s eyes are clear as day.
There are days that Junmyeon forgets he was once in the state army. He thinks back to where he was, nearly a year ago, versus where he is today. Fighting on the side of the rebels and being one of them seems so natural now.
Then there are days, few as they may be, when his identity slaps him in the face.
Today, as he watches Captain Huang’s stronghold fall, he realizes the charade needs to stop.
His name is Kim Junmyeon, a lieutenant who served under Captain Wu. And his last order is to kill Zhang Yixing.
***
Junmyeon had become amazing at telling stories, even if they weren’t his. Jongin speaks and listens to him as if they were brothers. Chanyeol thinks highly of his fighting skills that he’s often left alone to shadow Yixing.
And Yixing has long been fascinated with him to have shared each other’s beds.
Junmyeon unknowingly created the perfect scenario.
But while Junmyeon loses himself in his stories, he doesn’t realize that stories are just that.
They weren’t real.
And everyone can see through him.
***
Yixing pins his wrist down before he can even lay a finger on the dagger beneath his pillow. Junmyeon is ready with a smile, only for his blood to run cold when he feels the muzzle of a gun pointed at his head.
“We were wondering when you would get your bearings straight.”
Junmyeon’s eyes shoot to the shadows past Yixing’s head, watching Jongin walk out from the darkness. He deduces that it’s Chanyeol pointing a gun at him.
“The thing with war, Junmyeon,” Yixing says, eerily calm, “is that you always need to know who your enemy is.”
He learns that Jongin is from the same village as Kyungsoo, and how he had left for the next town over on an errand.
Baekhyun had been Chanyeol’s childhood best friend, one he often said would get in trouble because of his mouth.
“Sehun was my informant,” Yixing states. “Minseok was in charge of bringing him back safely. I’ve known who you were from the very beginning. I was waiting for you to break.”
Junmyeon feels like he’s choking. He wonders if this was how Captain Wu felt before the shot rang out.
“Kill me now, then,” Junmyeon bravely and foolishly says.
He only wishes he can go that easily, saying an apology in his head to Captain Wu and his comrades for failing them.
Junmyeon isn’t as lucky.
Death is an easy verdict to pass. Suffering is a harder pill to swallow.
“You’ll live,” Yixing says. “You’ll watch as we storm the strongholds, as we march to the capital, and as we take what we were denied. You’ll listen to your comrades scream and beg for mercy. You’ll live through it all.”
Junmyeon swallows thickly. If that was his fate, so be it.
But he wasn’t going down without a fight.
“Then you’re just making yourself to be the same thing you’re fighting against. It’s just one big cycle of one side punishing the other. We killed you, so you kill us. And you’ll continue to punish us and our children for sins we didn’t commit. Do you think yourself to be the last one to pass judgment? Do you think you’re a king above everyone else? Do you think you’re a god who won’t die?”
“Take him away, Chanyeol.”
As he’s dragged up from the bed, Junmyeon’s gaze pointedly moves back to Jongin who looks to be deep in thought. And when their eyes meet, Junmyeon feels a surge of hope in what he sees.
“I’ll watch you fall, Yixing. One day, I will.”