43.
Park Seong-jin, sitting on the low bench in front of the annex, felt a very small presence from the yard.It was less like footsteps and more like a breath-like movement carefully stepping on dirt.
By the wall, a child was peeking out with only his head.He looked about ten.In wartime, he could have looked even younger.
In the child's hand was a broken wooden spinning top.A toy with its teeth half-chipped from hitting a stone.Their eyes met.The child stopped where he was.He neither came closer nor retreated.
"…Mister."That form of address came first.I'm only fifteen, and I'm already being called "mister."Seems I changed that much.
Park Seong-jin nodded once.Whether that motion was permission or warning, even the child would not have been able to tell.A short silence passed.The evening wind swept over the wall.
The child opened his mouth."Did you really… shoot a person? You hit the enemy commander."He must have heard it somewhere.A rumor that drifted among the soldiers.
In those words there was neither curiosity nor fear.It was a calm question meant to confirm a fact."Yeah."Park Seong-jin answered briefly.The child nodded.It was the face of someone confirming a story he already knew.
"My uncle did that too."Seong-jin's gaze stayed on the child."Where.""Before."The child thought for a moment, then continued."He didn't come back."
That was all the explanation.For the child, that much was enough.A short quiet fell.Then the child asked again.
"Mister… when the war ends, you'll go back soon, right?"
That question was light.It did not give time to prepare an answer.
Park Seong-jin looked up at the sky once.The sun had already tilted beyond the wall.
"Probably. I will."He said it like that.There's the condition of "if I can," but I will go back.To my home.
The child did not look like he believed those words as they were.He only wore the expression of having heard the answer he wanted.
Was it a way of saying that the one who must go, goes.The grain of the conversation slips slightly.
"Then that's a relief."Holding the wooden top, the child turned away.After a few steps, he stopped again.
"Mister.""Yeah.""Shooting people… does it hurt a lot?"There was no subject in that sentence.
Park Seong-jin closed his lips for a moment.The pain of the one being hit did not need explanation.I do not know it.And he remembered that a sensation also remains long on the side that shoots.
That question was precise, too precise for the child's age.Park Seong-jin did not answer.The child took that silence as affirmation.He nodded like someone who had already received his answer.And he disappeared behind the wall.
Left alone, Park Seong-jin stayed seated for a long time.More than the question, the child's tone remained.That night, he did not dream of shooting people.The child's voice that asked about people kept circling in his ears.
"Does it hurt?""Does it hurt…?"
====---*
Night grew deep, but he could not fully fall asleep.Park Seong-jin opened his eyes with a feeling as if his breath were being choked.It was not a dream, and not a sound.His body woke first.A bad habit-like sense raised on the battlefield.
In the dark, he stayed lying down, steadying his breath and opening his ears.
…Thump.
No.It was not sound, but vibration.Hooves arrive first as the ground's vibration before they arrive as sound to the ear.The earth remembers first, the body realizes later.What he felt now was clearly "soundless hooves."
From far away, very far away.But with a weight that was approaching.Seong-jin slowly sat up.
Because it was his first time sleeping with his belt pouch undone, his waist felt empty for a moment.His hand moved first to find the crossbow, but there was nothing there.
'Ah.'
A face flashed through his mind—saying that here, it was fine to set it down.He had left the crossbow behind.
Then, a shadow passed over the paper door of the annex.A sentry.He carried no torch.Firelight ruins the eyes.Relying only on moonlight, the shadow walked slowly with the spearpoint held low.
Even the footsteps made no sound.Seong-jin held his breath.
The sentry's shadow stopped briefly in front of the door.The head tilted just a little.That short angle—confirming there was nothing.I can't see it, but I can feel the moment of looking, even after dismounting.Someone must have told him to check here as well.
The shadow moved again.Toward the wall, toward the fortress, melting into the dark.
Even after he disappeared, Seong-jin did not move for a while.From far away, very far away, the ground trembled once more.
…Thump.
This time it was not a mistake.The vibration came from the north, not so far away.Seong-jin slowly exhaled.Sleep had already run away.Instead, war had sat down beside him again.
Seong-jin hugged his knees and stared into the dark.There was no sound, but the night was already moving on horseback.
A rooster crowed.It was a distant sound.It is still dark, and yet the rooster crows.It has a special ability to sense very faint light.It knows morning comes before people do.
Park Seong-jin slowly opened his eyes.Inside the room, the ashen embers kept burning through the night were still breathing.The smell of the front line was gone, and warmth from a Yeojin-style ondol heated only half the floor spread under his body.
Was there a room this warm.He stared blankly at the ceiling, then raised an arm and felt along the earthen wall.It was rough and warm.Until yesterday, all that remained in his hands was the cold of a sword hilt, but today he could feel the warmth of a wall.
When he opened the door, cold air rushed in.The smell of cooking rice, the smell of wet earth, the barking of dogs from far away.Smells that did not exist on the battlefield poured in all at once.
In the yard, women lifted the pot lid and stirred inside.Children chased field mice beside them, and an old man sat under the sunny wall, shaking out his pouch.The leisure of early morning.It was hard to believe war existed inside it.
When Park Seong-jin sat at the edge of the wooden porch, the youngest-looking boy approached carefully.In his hands were a few pieces of dried jerky.
"This… eat it."
Seong-jin smiled."You eat it. On the battlefield, this kind of thing is the most precious."
The child tilted his head."Battlefield?""Yeah. A place where people fight each other.""Why do they fight?"
Before that question, Seong-jin could not open his mouth.If you know too many reasons, the answer disappears instead.He had nothing to explain to a child.
"Just… that's how living is."
The child shook his head with a face that did not understand.And a moment later, he placed one piece of jerky on Seong-jin's knee and ran off.
Seong-jin stared at that piece for a long time, then slowly put it in his mouth.He chewed and chewed.When the sweetness reached the tip of his tongue, his eyes grew hot.
Was jerky always this sweet.
Just then, from the main house came a woman's voice."Officer-nim, breakfast is served."
On a small tray were rice and soup.Steam rose in soft puffs.
Seong-jin stood and bowed his head."You don't have to do this much."
As she set the tray down, the woman said,"Then what should we do. Because you are here, we can sleep peacefully even for one day."
Seong-jin smiled, but behind the smile, guilt remained.At home, he was nothing special.Here, he was a leave-taker of an occupying army.
After eating, he walked through the yard and looked up at the sky.The smoke had cleared, and blue sky showed itself.Under it, people were doing today's work as they had yesterday.Hanging laundry, drawing water, cooking rice.Those simple tasks looked more solid than war.
Beyond the wall, he recalled the Northern Yuan army.Seong-jin sat in the shade of the wall, opened his scabbard, and wiped the blade.Sunlight struck the edge and made a dazzling glint.He closed his eyes without thinking.
That was when it happened.From far away, a trumpet sounded.Short, sharp.
With that single sound, the day's peace ended.