It's been two weeks since the North fell. In a way, Yong Soo feels relieved. More than anything, he wants to erase the past sixty or so years from his memory.
But things keep him from forgetting. He spares a glance over at his unconscious brother from his perch on a chair across the room. His Northern counterpart lies on the couch across from him, his chest rising and falling slowly. Yong Soo pulls his knees tighter against his chest. When North wakes up, he knows, it will be a long time before either of them can forget. After so many years of strife and tension, he can't expect things to be better between them, just like that. It will takes weeks, months, years to regain his brother's trust, to foster within him the love that used to be there.
But he remembers how things used to be. Long before their war, before the invasion of Japan even. They'd had plans. They were going to build their perfect paradise. Their nation was to be great and strong. And they'd vowed to do it together. It had been their dream.
He remembers when North used to smile at the thought of such a perfect dream, and Yong Soo thinks, when North wakes up, he should try and get his brother to smile. They can still build their perfect paradise - both of them this time. And suddenly, that's all he wants - for his brother to wake up so he can remind him of their dream, and some small part of him vainly hopes that they can pick up where they left off like nothing ever happened. They can share prosperity this time.
Even if North may not know he's there, he wants to show him love anyway, so he brushes his hair back from his face and talks to him even if he can't hear, and kisses him good night on the cheek at the end of the day, just the way they'd used to. Someday, maybe things can be like that all the time again, and everything will be okay.
But another week passes and North still doesn't awaken. Yong Soo rests a hand against his brother's forehead, and it's burning. Panicked, he rushes to the bathroom and wets a rag to lay across his brother's forehead. He's by his side constantly, but the fever never goes down. Suddenly, Yong Soo considers the possibility that North may not wake up. They may not get to continue their dream together. All those years of waiting and hoping for things to get better between them may have been in vain. Maybe he would never see North smile again, and the last shred of the brother he'd known before their war would be gone forever.
He tries everything - anything - he can to bring the fever down, but he knows no human medicine will help. What afflicts his brother is something much deeper, down to his very nationhood itself. And as South realizes this, his throat constricts, his eyes burn, and finally, the first tear drips onto the pillow next to his brother's head. He's terrified that after all these years, he's still going to lose him.
He buries his face in the pillow beside his brothers head, ignoring the wetness that begins to seep into the fabric. North might never wake up to realize their dream together, or to smile at him one last time. He might die hating him, and that's not a thought Yong Soo can't live with. "Please wake up..." he murmurs into the pillow next to his brother's ear. "Please wake up..."