What Sits Above the Canopy

Oct 09, 2011 16:42


Title: What Sits Above the Canopy
Pairing: Donghae/Hyukjae (...sort of)
Rating: R
Word Count: 2903
Summary: How Donghae ended up here is of no mystery: he's a soldier, fulfilling his orders.
Note: Under the cut. Please read.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Descriptive violence, mentions of psychological illness and war atmospheres.

Note: Alright, so I'm sitting here eating some Special K crackers... No, but seriously. This is something that was inspired by a song (that I don't remember), and is an exercise for myself. There's quite a bit of symbolism in this, and I tried to make some of it obvious. OTL
If you have any questions about this, feel free to message me or write in the comments. ^^
But I would like to warn any potential readers that this isn't a fluffy HaeHyuk thing... I'm not even sure if I should classify it as a pairing, but their relationship is a center-piece in this fiction. There is a scene of murder, but I am in no way glorifying it, and if you feel as if I have, I honestly never intended it to be read that way.

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The forests were thick, the air humid and the skies subject to frequent down pours. The ground was damp and dark, a misstep could lead to death from a venomous bite or a rash that lasted weeks. It was impossible to predict: where a root was hiding or if a vine was actually an animal, even how long their rations would last.
    It was in this endless jungle that Donghae had lost friends and enemies alike- the guns strapped to their backs and fronts failing as a barrier against disease, bouts of fever, thirst, hunger and fatigue.
    What started as an adventure for the young men, a step out of ordinary life with the country's support behind them, had turned somewhat into an ongoing nightmare. Training had been difficult to say the least, an indiscriminate and standard trial where either the boys got over the pain are banished to a desk job. In this respect, Donghae found himself lucky. He kept the honor of his family and was out in the field- his athletic build, charisma and strong leadership qualities securing his success in the army.
    He was deployed soon after, excitement on the faces of his friends eager to escape the mundane progression of everyday life. A change and an honor. But somewhere along the line, the novelty wore thin as they trudged through unforgiving earth in their one pair of government issued boots. Their feet were stuck continuously in water, their bodies drenched in a sweat of exertion, held to their bodies by the items and bags slung across their frames.
    But everyday Donghae managed to wake up and walk on. He was left wondering where they were going, how long it would take and what they were fighting for, but after months began passing his sole request was to go home.
    He was tired of the people in his unit, their foibles becoming more unbearable by the day and their flaws annoying and unbelievable. They snapped at each other, but never turned to attack because despite all of their differences laid common ground. The only thing able to bring them together being the strife and pain they faced daily, both physical and emotional.
    Donghae figured he could cut his losses and blow his brains out with his issued shot gun. Maybe he could manage with his rifle. The thought was constantly there, the promise of freedom laid across his back and snug against his hip. But his family drove him forward, his desire to be home and safe and warm and familiar and dry and out of that god forsaken jungle overpowered his compulsions.
    Even though his body had raged of fever, his mouth burned from thirst occasionally and he dry heaved constantly, Donghae knew that there was something waiting for him. His grandfather would've probably said that Donghae was building character out in that jungle, and if starving and watching his body thin and hollow out; his skin, bone and muscle threatening to sink in on itself in an attempt to disappear, then Donghae decided that he had a life time supply and more of character.
    Though he tried to keep good humor, everything took its toll. In the shadows of the forest, Donghae lost himself in the vast trunks of trees that seemed never ending. The same vines seemed to slap him each day, the same animals circling around them for hours, the same snakes dropping down from the canopy.
    But the canopy. The tops of the trees. The branches that saw light and reached for the heavens. Donghae rarely saw it, shrouded in darkness as the ground level was, but he knew it was there. Where those trees began they had to end somewhere- somewhere beyond his own spec.
    But walking in the darkness, out of the reach of the sun took its toll. The unit dwindled. The numbers dropped from disease, wanderers, suicides and madness.
    Donghae's first run in with insanity was with a close friend. Their parents were friends and the two went to school together and often hung out on the weekends. They had even planned on starting the same job before they were even drafted. From there they had trained together and managed to pull some strings to enter the same unit.
    And Kibum had been the most level headed friend Donghae had ever had. He was mature while Donghae was childish, succeeded where Donghae failed.
    But somewhere in their endless march (the days blended together now), Kibum had been overwhelmed by a body shaking fever, his body hot and sweat leaking from every pore. Their unit leader urged him to continue on, but Donghae noticed that they made more rest breaks as the days passed.
    Soon the hallucinations started and Kibum couldn't stay still for long without bursting out in yells and screeches, muttering under his breath and eyes full of fear that quickly scanned his surrounding without comprehension.
    It was when Kibum tried to bash in a unit member's skull that the leader led Kibum away from the group. The shot rang clearly through Donghae's ears and his eyes began to water. They had divvied up the contents of Kibum's bag and Donghae ended up with an extra rifle. Then they continued walking.
    And they kept going, there was no room to look back, no time to backtrack. Though the leader reassured them he knew where they needed to be, Donghae could see in his tired features that even the leader had no idea what they were doing out there.
    One day they stumbled upon a small village. It was remote and hidden- Donghae wouldn't have noticed it existed at all had it not been for a small boy darting out from behind a bush, running towards his home.
    They had all thought that they were hallucinating, couldn't believe when a couple working a ministry came out from a grass hut. The woman introduced herself as Sunny and the man as Sungmin. They had been in the village for about a year, though they said it felt as if getting out there had taken an equal amount of time. The couple was welcoming and kind, offering medical plants and showing the unit edible leave and roots coupled with advice and eased the worries of the soldiers.
    They stayed in the village for little over a week, and near the beginning, Donghae managed to befriend a native child. He was adorable, Donghae decided, with single lidded eyes and a skinny body with skin that seemed to radiate happiness. His favorite feature of the little boy, however, was the careless grin that was always displayed on his face that showed off his gums. If Donghae ever managed to get out of the jungle and have a family, he hoped that he would have a son that would be just as charming as the little boy.
    Sunny told Donghae that his name was Hyukjae, he was about nine or ten and was set to become the next chief of the clan. Hyukjae was shy at first- the couple had explained to the unit that the natives weren't used to outsiders, that they really had never seen soldiers before- Donghae showed a certain fondness to the boy.
    Away from the intimidating unit, Hyukjae exuded charisma, the children of the village listened when he spoke and drew themselves near his presence. And while Hyukjae ruled over the children of the village, he appeared attached to Donghae, embracing him around the hips and nuzzling his face into Donghae's stomach whenever he was close. Donghae would ruffle the boy's hair, and although the two could not communicate in the same language, they drew in the dirt while Hyukjae rambled in his own tongue and Donghae in his own.
    Hyukjae was affectionate and playful, his feet bare and wearing minimal clothing as he and the other children invited Donghae and a few unit members to play a game with them. The children were patient- physically explaining the rules of the game that was unique to the village, to the soldiers who were used to computers and cars, not rocks and sticks for entertainment.
    And while Donghae was subject to Hyukjae's hugs, the only other person he was publicly affectionate to was his mother. She was a pretty woman that was extremely pregnant, and Donghae often heard Hyukjae muttering to the swollen belly.
    Hyukjae's father was another story. When he was near, Hyukjae's playful demeanor became suppressed, his face sober and respectable. The chief would nod in his son's direction and that was the extent of their relations.
    Sungmin and Sunny warned the unit that matters between the village and neighboring tribe were rocky at best, and battle was almost certain to commence any day. They advised that the unit should move on quickly, or at least stay hidden and let the tribes complete their own business.
    Later that night, the unit leader said they were going to be moving on in the morning.
    “But we can help them!” a soldier had protested.
    “And what will come of that? They can defend themselves, and if they can't then what they have out here doesn't belong to them. Sure, we can interfere, shoot a few people, but what will happen when we leave? Worse case, their children remember how the enemy had been easily beaten, their fight spirit will dwindle, and then what? They'll die because of their negligence. We can't stay here forever. We can't protect them,” the leader was furious, though not at the question exactly, but rather the reason that they could not stop the blood bath.
    Donghae looked at the ground, curious as to why so many wars were waged over spaces of dirt, patches of trees, the minerals beneath the soil.
    The squadron awoke in the middle of the night to terrifying screeches, mournful screams and overall chaos. We have to get out of here, Donghae heard someone say. But where could they go without risking death? If they stayed they could die. If they left, they would be caught up in the brawl and die.
    Soon, Sungmin entered the hut the group was staying in, lifting away the blanket door. From just that slight lift, the team could see fire and shadows of fighting figures. Sungmin talked quickly, but Donghae's attention was on the ceiling.
     There's something up there.
    Everyone stilled and looked up. Suddenly the blanket was ripped violently from its fastenings. A man with rage etched across his features, black markings across his flesh and eyes featuring an animalistic squint stood in front of the hut, his wild face splashed in blood and brandishing a sharp weapon attached to a wood stick.
    The hut shook and from above a small figure pounced on the intruder. A knife plunged into the man's fleshy neck, ripping at the muscles and throat, and bones snapping with a quick turn at the guidance of skillful hands.
    A shower of crimson erupted from the intruder as he fell, the small figure showered in the blood, still straddling the attacker and repeatedly stabbing the man until he was motionless beneath the small figure. As the figure dismounted his kill, Donghae's hands shook at the sheer brutality and gruesome nature of what he had just witnessed.
    The figure paused, fished his knife out of the fallen warrior and turned a moment to look in the hut. The flame light lit his face harshly, the sharpness in his jaw highlighted and all signs of childhood shadowed.
    It was Hyukjae.
    He appeared to survey the inside of the hut before darting off, muscles ready and trained to spring.
    It seemed like hours, but soon the screams died down and the air was still. The team stayed motionless, avoiding the eyes of one another. Then, they heard a grief stricken wail that was followed by other howls that resounded against the trees, no wind to carry them away. The group was still as the cries intensified, only trickling out of the hut upon Sungmin's beckon.  
    Corpses were crowding the ground, but the remaining villagers were packed tightly in a circle. In the center of the ring knelt a woman, tears streaming down her cheeks as she fisted the earth. Donghae recognized her as Hyukjae's mother, the wife of the chief. On the dirt lay her husband, a spear protruding unceremoniously from his chest and eyes rolled back in his head. He had various slices and wounds on his body, but his blood had long stopped flowing from the openings.
    The pregnant woman grasped at his hand, her sorrow radiating from her body as if she believed her grief could re-energize his corpse. From out of the ring strode their son, the ten year old that went by the name Hyukjae. He touched the back of his mother, whereupon she silenced her cries.
    The ring too fell eerily silent, all eyes turned to the determined face of the pregnant woman. At the hip of the dead man a sheath knife was tied, a decorative handle signifying the rarity of such an item in the wild. The knife that belonged to the chief that had been passed to him by his father. A tribal relic meant solely for the current chief.
    The woman drew it carefully, holding the spotless blade above her head. With controlled movements, she brought it to the neck of the fallen chief. With precision, she sliced the cooling skin, the blood trapped beneath his skin bubbling out in a final attempt to escape.
    She tentatively pressed her fingertips against the familiar throat, then brought the blood stained pads of her fingers to the forehead of her only son. Slowly, the ring filed in front of Hyukjae, pressing their fingers on the fallen chief and placing the blood on the boy.
    The second to last to place her hands on Hyukjae was a young girl, probably younger than Hyukjae and had pretty features despite disheveled hair and torn clothing.
    “They're promised to each other- they'll be married soon,” Donghae heard Sunny whisper when asked by a curious group member. “And that's the village elder- the wise man. He'll give Hyukjae his adult name- normally those are given when a child is around 16- and then he'll officially name Hyukjae chief.”
    The wizened old man placed both of his hands on Hyukjae's shoulders. He spoke in elevated tones- a gibberish to Donghae's ears but elicited cheers from the people. The elder looked down at Hyukjae meaningfully before shouting a name in the air.
    Eunhyuk.
    The village erupted in whoops of joy, chanting the new name and associating it with the small boy. The elder took the decorative knife from the previous chief's wife, ceremoniously placing it into the hands of the boy. Eunhyuk shouted something then, causing yells of agreement to sound.
    Eunhyuk stepped in front of his people and began speaking in a raised, constant voice. Many bowed their head slightly, but Donghae couldn't help but stare at the boy. The playful spirit that had hugged him with this arms and greeted him with a cheek splitting grin had vanished.
    Donghae looked towards the sky, or at least where he believed the sky was. Truth was, he realized, he hadn't been under open, unshaded skies since he stepped under the suffocating pressure of the trees.
    Truth was, he missed his family, his bed, constant food and protection. Sure, the guns attached to him at all times could be counted as protection, but god, what if it had been him that was pounced on by Hyukjae? Eunhyuk? Whoever he was now.
    What if it had been his throat under the blade, his neck snapped mercilessly?
    Donghae looked upwards, the trees blocking his view from the clear freedom that the skies offered. The branches and canopies were claustrophobic, forever present and pressing against Donghae like fist.
    It was then that Donghae realized that there was something out there waiting for him. Past the trunks, damp earth and perpetual darkness. There was something out there for him...
    It wasn't just his family, it was something larger. It was something that urged him to move on and not be stuck in the jungle or in a village with the natives familiar with the land.
    And he decided to live on.
    In the morning of the sleepless night, the unit left behind the village, offering their thanks to the villagers and the missionaries. Donghae chanced one final glance to the new chief, Eunhyuk. The hard maturity in his face was stone, and his eyes stared ahead in a determined fashion.
    When their gazes met, Eunhyuk's eyes appeared to soften. His face and posture were rigid, but his eyes betrayed the childish humility and innocence that were retained as a small boy that had lost his father and any remaining childhood he had.
    People grew up, Donghae knew, but here in the jungle, away from the blue skies and promising sun, moon and stars, something was different.
    Donghae's heart was glad when they left the village with no fleeting glances back. Though he was under the watch of the trees, he knew the skies were waiting and would welcome him back soon.
    What falls from the canopy is not necessarily from the sky, but those subject to the suffocating shadow of the dense foliage are not necessarily oblivious to the presence of the sky.

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A/N: If you managed to read this, it was a pain to type so please feel free to comment, even if you didn't like it. Let me know ways that I can improve.
Thank you!

genre: general, pairing: haehyuk, rating: r, genre: angst, type: fanfiction, fandom: super junior, length: oneshot

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