Carrying A Memory

They rose at dawn to depart for another battle. Only this time, their spirits were fired up with passion--more than before.

An Sun did not wait for the others. General Donghai's shout sounded from afar, but he could not hear. The moment he caught sight of the enemy up ahead, he ran. He ran and ran, armor clamoring against his chest, feet blazing with speed.

He tore through the advancing Tuhan ranks, shattering chests and faces, marking them with the meteor of his fury. By the time their bodies hit the ground, he was charging to his next opponent. The clang of steel echoed through the field as the others waged the battle around him.

One of the An Clan generals watched on the side as the young man tore down their defenses ruthlessly. He gripped his sword, roared angrily, and slashed down at An Sun's head. An Sun countered by raising his sword high, striking horizontally. His blow offset the generals, and the tip of his sword sliced cleanly across the man's face.

As the An General cried out in pain and clutched at his face, An Sun moved in close, eyes colder than a winter frost. He impaled the general's arm that held his sword, gripped his own sword halfway down the blade, and plunged it into his chest. The general's screaming stopped. He gasped, choked, and stared at his opponent with a mix of surprise and malice.

Chest heaving, An Sun's face was spattered with blood. "You will not take any more from me." His voice, thick, hoarse, and filled with bloodthirst.

He withdrew his sword and let him fall to the ground. His face was sweat-streaked, his breaths harsh. But he did not pause. He stared down at him and plunged his sword in his chest repeatedly, eyes flashing with anger.

Other men could not help but glance over to see the young man soaked in blood, ruthlessly driving his sword into the general until he was nothing but a pile of flesh and bones.

Underneath the jade sky was the grass thinned from warfare, drinking the rich blood of soldiers and generals. The An Clan's army retreated. Although the second battle was in their favor, all anyone could feel was a foul taste of resentment.

An Sun stood at the top of the hill. He gazed down at the army retreating, the sword in his hand trembling.

It wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

…

An Sun and the others returned to the palace.

His entire body was red, up to his elbows, his knees, his neck, as if he had swum in a pool of rich blood and emerged, still dripping. He dragged his sword, a trail of red following behind him. Those he approached flinched.

While he was walking back to his quarters, a voice stopped his tracks.

"You did well today, Sun." Manchu approached from the side, a cloth in his hand. His eyebrows laced with worry. "Bathe and rest yourself for now. You've done enough. All right?"

"I'm fine." An Sun snapped.

Manchu pursed his lips. He stared at his old friend, drenched in the blood of others. It was hard to tell whether any of it was his.

He sighed. "Tomorrow night…Fan Mingli will be burned and buried. He would want to see you looking your best when he's put at peace."

An Sun's entire body flinched as if he was struck. His mind awakening from its dazed state.

It was only then he seemed to notice the fearful gazes of those around him. When he glanced down at himself, he also couldn't help but scrunch his brows.

It was only then that he began to feel the weight of the battlefield toll on him. He swayed for a moment, before completely collapsing onto the cold ground. Shouts came from all directions.

For a moment, a soft and troubled voice seemed to ripple through his heart. It sounded so familiar. But before he could grasp it, his consciousness fell dark.

...

In the dimly lit room, the sole source of light glowed from the stub of a candle beside the bed. The flames flickered across An Sun's pale face. Sitting at the end of the bed, Rin quietly bandaged the wound on his stomach. Her expression was deep, transfixed in her thoughts.

After An Sun fainted, Rin was informed by her uncle of his performance on the battlefield. He fought like a firing phoenix, each of his strikes filled with an extraordinary rage. Beautiful and dangerous he was, but the cause of it…anger, sorrow, and hatred.

Her fingertips on the gauze clenched, causing the man on the bed to stir. His eyelids trembled. When light filtered into his eyes and his vision cleared, revealing Rin's lovely face, An Sun's dull eyes immediately widened.

He lifted his head. "…Rin."

She stared back at him with a slowly softening gaze. The corner of her lips curved, but there was no light in her eyes.

"How are you feeling?" She stretched her fingertips, gently tucking away the strands of hair stuck to his wet forehead.

He grabbed her wrist and propped himself on his elbows. "What are you doing here?"

"Is that all you have to say?" She laughed bitterly.

An Sun's heart clenched. Time seemed to have stopped at that moment. Two pairs of eyes stared back at one another without a word. Rin lowered her gaze and slipped her hand out of his grasp.

Just before he could reach for her again, his eyes stilled to watch her trail her hand across his chest. Her movements were light, fingers barely brushing him.

Sweat beaded his skin and trickled down his furrowed brows. He couldn't help but shudder with each touch, the depths of his eyes deepening. When her hand stopped on the gauze, she played with the edges carefully.

Finally, after a long moment of silence, Rin drew in a deep breath. Her voice was faint. "I was worried about you." Those words, filled with so much sorrow and anguish.

"I'm sorry." An Sun kept his voice low, but she could hear the guilt in his tone. "I just…"

Rin stopped him. "Everyone dies eventually. That's why...we need to make the most of the time we have."

She felt as if her throat was burning on fire as she lowered her head, not daring to meet his gaze. But she continued, "Fan Mingli may not have lived long life...but we can carry his memory with us by staying alive. We can prove that his life was not in vain. Every minute. Every moment and decision we make matters for those we lost."

Rin raised her eyes. She looked at him, capturing his gaze. She hid nothing. All her heart was in her eyes, and she didn't care if he saw it.

"It's wrong and cruel, but we have to live with it. So don't…don't let death take away all those memories." She whispered, so tremulously she could scarcely hear her own voice.

Seeing her with reddened eyes that looked as if she would cry, An Sun felt a stiffness in his heart. He stared at her tears, his face strangely void of expression. He pushed himself up to a sitting position and managed to move as he lifted his hand and rubbed away the tears gently with a calloused thumb.

Rin lifted her gaze and grabbed the hand on her cheek. She could feel the tension in his fingers. He didn't say anything—just looked at her, brows etched in a frown. Almost confused as to what he was feeling.

When he suddenly embraced her, Rin could feel his hot breath fanning against her neck. It itched, but she never moved. Instead, she bound her arms around his bareback even tighter, resting her head on top of his.

At that moment, his shoulders trembled.

"I'm so sorry…" His chest heaved with a quiet sob, and tears welled up behind his eyelids, slipping down his cheeks without resistance.

His apology, she didn't know who it was for. Fan Mingli. Her. Or himself. Regardless, his voice could not hide the pain.

He buried his face deeper into her chest and did not speak. Despite his bruising hold, Rin held him and whispered all the bits of broken comfort she could offer.