Camp Days Snippet
004 being the local tsundre with Ijin in their camp days lol. But I just added some background to 004. I put this when Ijin was like a year into the camp, and got really sick as result of the new environment and stress.
Here are the Numbered and their respective trainee numbers. I'll have another version with the usual number designation after this version. Hope you enjoy!
195-004
211- 002
451- 005
286- 008
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Even if Trainee 195 hadn’t been looking for the kid, with the way 451 and 286 were crowded in the corner of the tent, furiously whispering, 195 would have noticed either way. He could hear their whispers better the closer he got.
“Get him up. Do something.”
“Kid. C’mon. Sit up. I need you to sit up.”
“Fuck. Fuck. Do you know if he’s eaten anything, his water rations?”
“He didn’t even get up to get his rations.”
195 was finally able to see over their shoulders to see what was going on. What was making them huddle and whisper so furiously.
It was the kid. The one that they had dragged in half dead and covered in bandages. The one that 211, 451 and 286 had taken under their wings to try and make sure that he would survive.
He was a ragdoll in 286’s hands. The older boy was trying to get the child to sit up, to puck his head, to do something to show that he was alive.
All the kid did was stare at them with glassy, unseeing eyes whenever his head flopped in the right direction. If it wasn’t for the quick pants that barely moved his chest, 195 would have thought him dead.
Well, the kid was going to die if he didn’t fight off the fever that was ravaging his body.
“He won’t be able to train tomorrow.” 195 at last commented. 451 and 286 nodded with a grim expression.
They all knew what happened to the trainees who couldn’t train, to the ones who weren’t cut out for the training.
With a fever like that, at least the kid wouldn’t be aware of what was happening when their handlers went up to him to make that little head of his burst with a lead bullet.
There would be at least one asshole who would laugh and point at the kids remains afterwards.
Remains being taunted in such a way was a common occurrence in that hellhole. 195 had done it him self when he saw one of their handlers be taken out for some reason that 195 didn’t care enough to try and guess. He had kicked the handler when 195 saw him. He had told the handler to burn in hell, and that the flames of hell wouldn’t burn hotter than the hatred they all held for every single contributor to their torture in that hell hole.
It was easier to count the people who hadn’t cursed at a body. It was the norm.
Something about the thought of the kid’s body receiving the same treatment didn’t sit right with him.
The kid was just so…small… he was so small and quiet. He slept a few beds away from 286. 195 always saw him curled up in the shitty cot that had been given to him after another trainee had been cut.
He was small and quiet. So small, that 195 had to crane his head down to look at him. The kid had to bend his neck back to look at 195. When he tried to look at 286, he had to bend his back backwards as well.
Sometimes, although beyond rare, the kids’ eyes would light up, and when he looked up at 195, all he could see was little Liora.
The kid was the wrong color, and the wrong gender. They didn’t even have similar facial features, but the kid reminded 195 of Liora. Of the little Liora that he had first heard with his ear pressed against their mother’s stomach. Of his little Liora that he had shared a bed with, his little shadow their mother liked to say.
He had held her just like their mother taught him to when she was a newborn. He had held her just like that when she died in his arms.
At least 195 had been there to hold her as she died.
The kid wouldn’t be allowed to be held.
The kid didn’t have anyone to even want to hold him like that in the first place. Maybe in the arms of the body the men had found him under, but there? In that hellhole?
There was no one to hold him like that.
.
211 narrowed his eyes from where he stood. He wasn’t in his usual place. He wasn’t on his side of the tent like usual, but he had been the first one to notice him limping up to 286 and the others.
211 was rather passive, but 195 saw his hackles rising when he saw 195’s bruised and battered state. The guard had beaten his ass thoroughly, and his face showed it.
195 didn’t let him say anything. All he did was press the box into 211’s hands.
He would have grabbed more, but it was the only name he recognized. He didn’t want to risk grabbing an antibiotic instead of a fever reducer and he definitely didn’t want to risk grabbing more than one because oh boy did they notice the missing box. But they hadn’t been able to find the box on him, and that was all that mattered.
211 eyes widened a mere fraction when he saw what 195 had pushed into his hand, but he didn’t dawdle. Instead of asking what happened and where 195 got the medicine from, he turned around and went to the others.
195 followed him.
They had taken off the kids’ shirt to try and help with the fever. Based on the way there were cold compresses on his chest and head, they hadn’t been very successful.
Eyes flicked between 195 and the box, but none of them said anything. They didn’t thank him, they didn’t call him an idiot for risking himself, they didn’t ask him how they got it.
195 preferred it like that.
The box was examined, the instructions looked at and passed around futilely until 211 showed that he could read the language and read the instructions to them. Then 286 held the kids’ mouth open while 451 threw the pill in and dribbled in water from her water bottle until the boy swallowed.
They burned the box and instructions after that. 451 buried the rest of the pills in a hole close to her cot so they wouldn’t be found in any of their possessions.
He sat down on his cot with a hiss; his hand cradled around his chest. That asshole had kicked his ribs more than once. Shit guard in 195s opinion. He had noticed the missing box but hadn’t found the box on his person.
“Get him up. Do something.”
The quiet ‘his fever is finally dropping’ that he heard from that corner of the tent was the last thing he heard before he finally dropped off to sleep.
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Heres a version of the story with everyone have their manhua numbers instead of their trainee numbers bc idk about you but I had a hard time remembering everyone's trainee numbers lol.
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Even if 004 hadn’t been looking for the kid, with the way 005 and 008 were crowded in the corner of the tent, furiously whispering, 004 would have noticed either way. He could hear their whispers the closer he got.
“Kid. C’mon. Sit up. I need you to sit up.”
“Fuck. Fuck. Do you know if he’s eaten anything, his water rations?”
“He didn’t even get up to get his rations.”
004 was finally able to see over their shoulders to see what was going on. What was making them huddle and whisper so furiously.
It was the kid. The one that they had dragged in half dead and covered in bandages. The one that 002, 005 and 008 had taken under their wings to try and make sure that he would survive.
He was a ragdoll in 008’s hands. The older boy was trying to get the child to sit up, to pick his head, to do something to show that he was alive.
All the kid did was stare at them with glassy, unseeing eyes whenever his head flopped in the right direction. If it wasn’t for the quick pants that barely moved his chest, 004 would have thought him dead.
Well, the kid was going to die if his body didn’t fight off the fever that was ravaging his body.
“He won’t be able to train tomorrow.” 004 at last commented. 005 and 008 nodded with a grim expression.
They all knew what happened to the trainees who couldn’t train, to the ones who weren’t cut out for the training.
With a fever like that, at least the kid wouldn’t be aware of what was happening when their handlers went up to him to make that little head of his burst with a lead bullet.
There would be at least one asshole who would laugh and point at the kids' remains afterwards.
Remains being taunted in such a way was a common occurrence in that hellhole. 004 had done it himself when he saw one of their handlers be taken out for some reason that 004 didn’t care enough to try and guess. He had kicked the handler when 004 saw him. He had told the handler to burn in hell, and that the flames of hell wouldn’t burn hotter than the hatred they all held for every single contributor to their torture in that hell hole.
It was easier to count the people who hadn’t cursed at a body. It was the norm.
Something about the thought of the kid’s body receiving the same treatment didn’t sit right with him.
The kid was just so…small… he was so small and quiet. He slept a few beds away from 008. 004 always saw him curled up in the shitty cot that had been given to him after another trainee had been cut.
He was small and quiet. So small, that 004 had to crane his head down to look at him. The kid had to bend his neck back to look at 004. When he tried to look at 008, he had to bend his back backwards as well.
Sometimes, although beyond rare, the kids’ eyes would light up, and when he looked up at 004, all he could see was little Liora.
The kid was the wrong color, and the wrong gender. They didn’t even have similar facial features, but the kid reminded 004 of Liora. Of the little Liora that he had first heard with his ear pressed against their mother’s stomach. Of his little Liora that he had shared a bed with, his little shadow their mother liked to say.
He had held her just like their mother taught him to when she was a newborn. He had held her just like that when she died in his arms.
At least 004 had been there to hold her as she died.
The kid wouldn’t be allowed to be held.
The kid didn’t have anyone to even want to hold him like that in the first place. Maybe in the arms of the body the men had found him under, but there? In that hellhole?
There was no one to hold him like that.
.
002 narrowed his eyes from where he stood. He wasn’t in his usual place. He wasn’t on his side of the tent like usual, but he had been the first one to notice him limping up to 008 and the others.
002 was rather passive, but 004 saw his hackles rising when he saw 004’s bruised and battered state. The guard had beaten his ass thoroughly, and his face showed it.
004 didn’t let him say anything. All he did was press the box into 002’s hands.
He would have grabbed more, but it was the only name he recognized. He didn’t want to risk grabbing an antibiotic instead of a fever reducer and he definitely didn’t want to risk grabbing more than one because oh boy did they notice the missing box. But they hadn’t been able to find the box on him, and that was all that mattered.
002's eyes widened a mere fraction when he saw what 004 had pushed into his hand, but he didn’t dawdle. Instead of asking what happened and where 004 got the medicine from, he turned around and went to the others.
004 followed him.
They had taken off the kids’ shirt to try and help with the fever. Based on the way there were cold compresses on his chest and head, they hadn’t been very successful.
Eyes flicked between 004 and the box, but none of them said anything. They didn’t thank him, they didn’t call him an idiot for risking himself, they didn’t ask him how they got it.
004 preferred it like that.
The box was examined, the instructions looked at and passed around futilely until 002 showed that he could read the language and read the instructions to them. Then 008 held the kids’ mouth open while 005 threw the pill in and dribbled in water from her water bottle until the boy swallowed.
They burned the box and instructions after that. 005 buried the rest of the pills in a hole close to her cot so they wouldn’t be found in any of their possessions.
He sat down on his cot with a hiss; his hand cradled around his chest. That asshole had kicked his ribs more than once. Shit guard in 004s opinion. He had noticed the missing box but hadn’t found the box on his person.
The quiet ‘his fever is finally dropping’ that he heard from that corner of the tent was the last thing he heard before he finally dropped off to sleep.
