『JenSoo Short Stories』

There's a Sweetness in Hell (3/3)

When Jennie succumbed to the weariness that consumed her, Jisoo made sure to take the reins.

She tucked her essentials into her pockets, keycards and cash and made her way into the white hallways.

She walked past Lalisa, her hair was a plain shade of brown and shortly cut, and neatly pulled back in a ponytail. Jisoo felt a twinge of pain dance across Jennie's chest as Lalisa laughed and greeted her with a smile that drove her insane during drills and gunfights, even with bullets sinking into every wall that bent to protect her, she grinned as if she was still back home dancing to songs in the pouring rain.

(She'd greet death with a pearly grin and a sweet, "how's it going bud?").

"Goodnight Lieutenant." she said with a simple bow.

A goodbye almost leapt from , Jisoo clamped Jennie's jaws shut and quickly twirled the ends of her lips.

(A choked and almost all too emotional goodnight leapt from and Jisoo knew without a doubt that it was Jennie's sleep-coated goodbye).

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Leaving the compound was beyond easy, she swiped her I.D. card every few minutes, opening door after door, leaving behind a sea of memories that washed by her feet.

"We're leaving aren't we?" Jennie asked eventually, her voice trembling with an emotion unknown to her.

"We don't have a choice." Jisoo replied, twisting another friendly grin onto Jennie's face when they greeted another Lieutenant.

"This is a coward's way out." Jennie spat with a sharp fury tracing her words.

"At least cowards survive." Jisoo mumbled, ignoring the sudden emptiness within Jennie's chest.

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"I'm a traitor." Jennie mumbled through loose lips as she watched countless pictures of herself fly up and off screen.

"You wouldn't of survived if you stayed." Jisoo reminded her softly.

Jennie glanced towards the 'older' woman, a turmoil of anguish and fury seeped into her bones. Traitor. Traitor. Traitor. Traitor.

The word was carved deep into her flesh, it stretched over the only scars she could wear with pride, the one that started at her sternum and ended at her shoulder, it was colored dull shades of pink that were all consumed by the vivid memory of a knife shredding into her collarbone and then jerking towards the right.

The reporter's voice faded into a quiet murmur and the shuffling outside the hall blended into the endless white noise that floated within her skull; she laughed, the years she spent becoming a hero had all been tarnished by a single pungent stain. They ignored the bloodstains that coated her body, the scars, the memories both lost and forgotten.

They would never know that the people of Busan weren't starving, they were never dying. It was a distortion painted with white, black and red and blue patriotism, the army just needed a reason to storm into Busan and put an end to all the riots without being recognized as brutal monsters.

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Jisoo slid her arm over the slight dip in Jennie's waist, her hand clung onto the loose fabric that was slightly wet to the touch.