Just want to express what I feel about the Korean brothers. No offense to either country, this is simply how I feel about their relationship. I wrote this while I was in a rather excited state on how North Korea's usually forgotten and blurred under the shade of his Southern brother, and gosh, they used to be the very same country. I admit I favour the North over the South, but then again, this fiction can be thought as either of the brothers' talking, cos for them, they're basically the same. Like North and South Vietnam, or Italy. Like a few previous fanfictions of mine about Vietnam, I refuse to use South Korea only in my filter, it's unfair, and it's totally against what I want to express in this fiction. But please don't think too hard about this, just kick back, enjoy and review please :D
These were the days of our childhood.
Hand in hand, chasing each other on the fading hills of grains, under the darkening orange sky.
Cheerful like little birds, singing joyfully as the morning came, preening our glossy plumage and spreading our puffy wings.
We were merely little children,
Not knowing the cruel world outside
We were the future the people nourished with care and love
Didn't know anything except the blue moon and each other's warm embrace, we sang the song that praised this land. Endless and beautiful. Serene and gentle. Brave and strong. The land which we called 'ourselves'. A small tip of land surrounded by the seas.
We were brothers, we shared our name.
The name which people gratefully called 'fatherland'.
We were Korea.
Thick and thin, we had gone through it all.
Peaceful times with the scent of harvested fields in the air, the hustle and bustle of people happily carrying their crops home and the humming of folk songs.
Joyful times of festivals, fireworks cracking loudly in our ears as we danced by the bonfire.
Painful times of gunpowder and spears, we stood side by side, protecting each other's back as if it was our own.
Lonely times when we were surrounded by our enemies, hiding each other under the thick bushes, praying to the god and goddess that this would be all over.
The warmth we shared as we snuggled close, cooing ourselves to sleep.
The grip of the hand in our own as we slid down the green green waves of youth.
The everlasting smile on our lips.
The scratches we got while playing war.
The water running in the river passing by our home.
The fish we caught in a hot summer day.
The blood that dyed our hands a crimson colour.
The tears that stained our cries.
The embrace we shared, cold and tight. We were tormented, were ripped into pieces, were happy, were sad, were hurt. But we were together.
It was all that mattered.
And we forgot the opening wounds on our chests and laughed happily like innocent children as we made the promise.
Let's be together forever, we both said.
Our hands touched and they felt rough with scars. But it was okay.
Because all we got was each other.
Because this place was what we shared. What we treasured. What we loved.
There was nothing that could separate us. No wars, no pains, not even death could rip us apart.
We were Korea. We would always be Korea.
That was not just an empty promise of ungrateful children, forgetting important things as they grew up into unfaithful adults.
That was the words of men, sealed under our breath.
A seal that could never be broken.
If so,
Then why did it come to this?
Centuries and we remained children. Holding hands as we slept, back facing each other's as we stood our ground, defending our honour and sanctuary.
We didn't know what a world war was.
We didn't know who the Allied or the Axis were.
We didn't know who was winning, why they were winning, how they won, we didn't want to know.
All we ever cared about was protecting our people, the ones who loved us with all their hearts.
We didn't know who America was. We didn't know who Soviet Union was. We didn't know fascism, capitalism, communism, we had never ever known.
All we knew was each other, and the land we shared, and why we were together.
Because we are brothers.
It was a fact that could never be changed.
Not even the winners of some wars faraway in the West. Not even the Yalta Agreement something. And certainly not some random foreign countries who thought they could decide everything on their own.
It was just not right.
Still, one day, people ripped us apart. They burnt our house, they took us far away from each other, cutting away the sacred bond that had bonded us since forever.
In one of my dreams, you were crying. Tears kept falling down from your oriental eyes, your cries ripped my heart apart and you reached your rough hands out to me. You called my name, over and over and over again.
Korea. Korea. Korea.
You called me your brother. Your fingers squirmed in thin air, but your legs were chained and you fell down to the ground. Dirt got all over your face and hair and you screamed out my name.
Again and again and again.
But I couldn't do anything for you.
Because I was chained too, and I was also crying, was also screaming out your name. Our name.
Korea.
We have always been Korea, simple and clear, until the end.
If so, then why did you look so different? Feel so different? Sound so different?
Aren't we suppose to be brothers?
Korea. Answer me. Korea!
One day, we were taken to the border by our supporters.
On the two sides of the temporary gate were two different individuals.
We looked different.
We sounded different.
Our flags looked different.
Our anthems sounded different.
Our uniforms looked different.
We looked into each other's eyes, seeing them cold as ice.
We heard whispers in our ears:
"Take a look at your enemy. Remember his face."
We looked at each other. Silently. Trying to absorb the other's presence.
We seek for something familiar, but to no avail.
We walked away in the fast drumming and clapping from our sides.
We were handed the documents declaring war.
They were all looking at us, searching for a reaction of betrayal. But found none.
How could they find anything anyway? After all,
Our hearts had changed.
It was the first time we were on the same battlefield without our back facing the other's.
It was the first time that we looked into each other's eyes like two different beings.
It was the first time that we felt the pain causing by each other.
It was the first time that our backs felt so empty and cold.
Does he feel this painful as well? We didn't know.
Because our hearts had changed, we could no longer feel the other's pain. Or feelings. Or presence.
It was like fighting against a life-long enemy. Because we didn't even know each other anymore.
Gradually, the blood stopped shedding and the wounds stopped hurting. We were placed into the same table, signing the same treaty of truce, accepting the permanent border. We ourselves had destroyed our own promise.
There is no longer a country named Korea on the world map. Instead, there are two small countries in East Asia. The Democratic People's Republic of Korea and the Republic of Korea.
There are two different national flags. Two different anthems. Two different personalities. Two different beings.
Two Koreas. But no Korea at all.
War is starting again, they all say. The North and the South are going to fight to the death again, like half a century ago. Even the big and neighbouring countries are involved. And they've got nuclear weapons this time.
Once, in the middle of the night, we saw each other on the opposite sides of the border. We had the same face, the same hairstyle, the same eye colour, the same clothing. We touched the other's hand through the iron fence, feeling the rough skin through the wires.
We mumbled our name. The word was alien, yet it rolled on our tongues so gracefully.
Korea.
We have always been Korea. We are brothers until the end.
Our hearts may have changed, but they struggle to match the other's heartbeat.
Our personalities have changed, but deep inside we are still the same. We were, we are, and we will always be the ones that protect this land against whatever that threatens it.
Our foreheads touched and it felt cold.
There was neither North Korea nor South Korea. There was only one nation. Korea.
Tomorrow, when daylights came, we would be separated again. As neighbours, as enemies, as foes. Just like how the world think we are.
But they don't know, and they needn't know that our heartbeats unite as one.
There is only one in our heart.
Korea.
We can no longer change the past, you know?
And tears fall.
As we sing the lullaby that deceives ourselves from reality.
Tomorrow will be the day of fate, but tonight, for the last time, let us stay together like this. Just one more time.
So that when tomorrow comes, even though we may have to sacrifice whatever we have, our hearts will still beat for Korea only.
We are Korea.
We are brothers.
This time, for sure, it will be…