Bang Chan

You both studied in special schools for troubled teenagers, and when you were sent to a closed, military-oriented school, you had no choice but to bend to the conditions – there was simply no other way.

Your relationship didn’t fall into place immediately: you had to go through several dozen battles before you officially (between yourselves) decided it was time to declare a truce.

Chan often heard that he was a bad person and even a coward for fighting with a girl, but how could he explain to everyone that you were the one provoking him first and then pretending to be an innocent lamb afterward?

After you made peace, the school became calmer, because for some reason you held authority over the girls, while he held authority over the boys.

Leaving the school for violent teenagers as calmer people — and even with excellent grades — you were welcomed with open arms in college, where you continued your daily banter, teasing and playing with each other.

It’s been about eight years since then. You both grew up, got wiser, and no longer needed to mess with each other to feed your egos.

You still don’t know when your hatred turned into love, or maybe you just didn’t realize you had liked each other from the very start.

Now you can’t help but smile brightly when your colleagues at the station call you not Miss Kang, but Mrs. Bang. Nearly everyone addresses you that way, but your knees still tremble every time, just like the first. You’ve been married for about three years now and have never once regretted your decision.

You were never like ordinary couples who coo and fuss over each other at every turn. In a way, you were rather strict and harsh with one another, but in public, no one ever saw your fights or disagreements. To people, you were always:

“He said that tomatoes are blue? Well yes, then they are.”

“She said that birds can talk? Well yes, haven’t you ever heard the speeches they give?”

You were both jealous and hot-tempered; your youth still showed itself sometimes, no matter how hard you tried to keep it under control. Both of you, like wild animals foaming at the mouth, were ready to protect what was yours, guard it, and never let anyone hurt it. That’s who you were. That’s the kind of love you had.

As for your career, at first you didn’t even consider going into the military field. But one evening, after hearing and seeing your classmates talk about their future, imagining how wonderful they would look in uniform — you got hooked. Hooked for a long time. So much so that Chan and his “gang” caught you hanging around near their rooms.

That whole night, dreaming about a guy in uniform, you realized you needed to take matters into your own hands. After all, the chance of meeting a handsome soldier was definitely higher that way.

And so you went. Running into Chan there was… fairly expected, but still, with so many universities of that kind, why did he end up at the very same one you chose? You never got an answer. Instead, Chan turned into your personal bodyguard, a storm cloud looming nearby to ward off any male attention — which there was plenty of.

That was when you finally snapped, once you realized why everyone kept their distance from you. Your anger got the better of you, and before the end of your shift you stormed into his office with complaints. Luckily, his colleagues had gone to lunch, so you could yell to your hearts’ content. Neither of you even noticed the moment his body pressed into yours, pinning you against the wall, his kiss harsh and fiery, leaving you craving more, more, more.

You separated hastily that day, avoiding each other in the unit. You didn’t even go to lunch, knowing that Chan would never skip a meal no matter what, but would be nearly dead on his feet anyway.

That evening, you nearly smacked him with your bag. Walking home along dark streets, you weren’t exactly looking to see who was following you. He hissed something like “are you fucking out of your fucking mind?” at you but then stepped back so you’d realize who it was.

From that moment on, your life changed and became a shared one.

---

The morning was quiet, too quiet for his usual pace of life. No alarm blaring at an ungodly hour, no messages piling up, no rigid schedule demanding he get up and move. Just sunlight creeping lazily through the blinds and the sound of your soft breathing beside him.

Chan lay still for a while, staring at the ceiling, and let the realization sink in: this was one of those rare days. A shared day off. No drills, no late-night reports, no rushing between tasks. Just you and him, with time that belonged only to the two of you.

He turned his head slightly, watching the way your hair fanned across the pillow. Even now, even after years of waking up beside you, something inside him always jolted awake at the sight. Not the restless, burdened kind of awake that came with duty, but the grounding, reassuring one. You were there. Still his, still choosing to be his.

You stirred, as if sensing his gaze, and scrunched your nose in that familiar way that always tugged a smile out of him. He reached out, brushing his fingers lightly against your cheek, and you murmured something incoherent before burying your face deeper into the pillow. He chuckled under his breath.

He thought about getting up first, maybe making breakfast, maybe pretending to be productive just for the sake of it. But the idea of slipping out of bed, of letting the warmth of your presence fade even a little, felt wrong today. So he stayed put.

“Sleep more,” he whispered, though you weren’t quite awake enough to answer. “We don’t get this often. Let’s not waste it.”

You shifted again, inching closer until your head rested against his shoulder, and your arm draped over his chest.

"You're so loving," he snorted, but pulled you closer to him, kissing the top of your head softly. "How would you live without my hugs, huh? You wouldn't last a day."