GB 126

The Arctic is a very cold sea where massive ice floats. Once.

Yoon Moo-hwa and Haero were pushed back from the front line to what was called a sinecure in the rear.

There was a time when the Arctic Ocean was the front line. Russia, longing for an ice-free port, sent warships to occupy the area as soon as the Arctic melted, and the European Union likewise dispatched warships in preparation. The United States and China couldn’t remain idle. The Arctic, already changing chaotically due to ice floes, became a battleground for powerful nations, which led to the further development of sea routes centered around the relatively safe and long-used Pacific, Indian, and Atlantic Oceans.

With all merchant ships traveling those routes, the Arctic Ocean—with nothing to plunder and fraught with danger—saw a surge even in pirates who had never considered it before. It coincided with a time when existing nautical charts became meaningless. Islands that existed a week ago would often disappear a week later, and islands formed by underwater volcanoes would emerge in the middle of the Pacific, where it should have been empty.

Already struggling with extreme changes in sea levels and increasing natural disasters, adding war made it impossible to endure. The common opinion that they must stop unless they all intended collective suicide was raised first, and after difficult coordination, the Arctic was determined to be international waters that no single country could privately occupy.

Soon after, artificial islands were built on the Arctic Ocean, where what passed for winter produced only a few tiny pieces of ice.

Some places became islands as huge barges gathered to form colonies.

These were all transnational research institutes established with international consent for academic purposes, created to refreeze the melted Arctic Ocean and recollect the methane that had spread as the ice melted.

Haero and Yoon Moo-hwa’s mission was to use icebreakers to break abnormally formed ice or rescue marine animals caught in the icing process.

White breath flowed from between Haero’s bright red lips as he pressed binoculars to his eyes. His thickly bundled clothes were clearly different in appearance from what he wore while on missions in the Indian Ocean.

“How does it look?” Yoon Moo-hwa asked, extending a mug to Haero.

Haero, with the binoculars hanging around his neck, took the cup. It was cocoa with marshmallows floating on top.

“I told you I want whiskey.”

“Forget it. Drink that. During duty, what are you—”

“Even when not on duty, you only give me cocoa.” Haero whispered, lowering his voice considerably in case someone might hear, “So many people drink vodka because of the cold.”

“I’m going to ban that too.”

“You’ll have an uprising on your hands.”

“No, we won’t. So, Lieutenant, how does the rescue target appear?”

Despite some suspicious aspects, since he had survived, Haero was promoted. And during his brief non-holiday vacation, he had to urgently cram veterinary knowledge into his head. While not as much as specialists, he prepared enough to provide emergency treatment. Haero was indeed a talented individual in the medical field.

He had wondered why he was suddenly told to learn veterinary medicine, only to find out his assignment was the Arctic.

“That’s a complete sinecure. I guess I’ve been completely passed over for promotion.”

The same applied to Yoon Moo-hwa.

People gossiped as they pleased. One faction argued that it made no sense to demote Yoon Moo-hwa when he deserved a medal for his good work, while the other argued that what he did was tantamount to insubordination. Meanwhile, at the center of this confusion, Yoon Moo-hwa spent his entire earned vacation being completely lazy, never leaving Haero’s side.

“I can see vital signs. Breathing is labored but not excessively.”

Most animals on Earth had become endangered species. Sea lions were no exception. Yoon Moo-hwa’s ship was heading toward a location where an injured sea lion had been spotted on an artificial glacier. Compared to escorting merchant ships and fighting pirates in the past, this might seem like a trivial mission.

But secretly, Haero enjoyed this mission very much. He liked it. Especially when it came to saving animals, he burned with an unusual sense of purpose.

“Haa.”

Yoon Moo-hwa let out a sigh.

“If you’re cold, please go inside, Captain.”

“It’s not that.” He continued in a lazy tone. “I miss our vacation time. It feels like ages since I could hold the Lieutenant and lounge around.”

“…”

After looking around to confirm no one was within earshot, Haero whispered, “We can be like that when we get back to the base.”

South Korea’s Dasan Station, located in Norway’s Svalbard archipelago, was damaged and disappeared as the Arctic’s last glacier melted. Now, the newly built Chungmu Base serves as a hub for researchers and the navy in its place.

When they returned to the base, Haero hardly ever left Yoon Moo-hwa’s room. Partly because there was nothing to do, but mostly because Yoon Moo-hwa simply wouldn’t let him go.

But Haero thought he understood what Yoon Moo-hwa was longing for…

Seeing Haero’s lips quietly curve into a smile, perhaps recalling those times, Yoon Moo-hwa’s gaze softened.

✼✼✼

Yoon Moo-hwa was well aware that he had essentially received disciplinary probation.

Yoon Moo-hwa knew that any new assignment would be a backwater position, which in this community meant exclusion and public humiliation. Many resigned out of shame just from being passed over for promotion. However, Yoon Moo-hwa, once called the face of the navy and a hero, remained remarkably calm despite finding himself in such a situation. As if it were someone else’s problem.

—You know the military will come looking for you again anyway, right? Alyosha asked.

The military was completely irrelevant to him. Whether they sought him out again or not, whether this was nominally an exile or not, he truly didn’t care.

Yoon Moo-hwa had only set the condition that he be allowed to serve on the same ship as Haero, and as long as that was granted, he intended to endure this humiliation without leaving the service.

In truth, it wasn’t even humiliation. As long as he could be with Haero.

Before he knew it, the one asking to be on the same ship was no longer Haero but Yoon Moo-hwa himself.

Yoon Moo-hwa lazily smiled as he rubbed the spot where Haero’s chip had been implanted.

—Hey, stop smiling. It’s annoying.

Alyosha had also received disciplinary action for neglect of duty. As responsibility was divided among several people and the boundaries were vague, the punishment was relatively light. Naturally, Alyosha hadn’t even considered leaving the service.

—It’s obvious you’re happy to be with your baby. If that’s the case, why not just leave the service?

“Because Haero hasn’t left, so I won’t either.”

—Eww.

Alyosha pretended to retch.

—Now you’ve become the stalker. Your couple is creepy.

“Ah, about that. I think I was the one following Haero first.”

—You thief. I want to throw you in the brig right now.

“How would you do that when I’m not even on your ship?”

Though Alyosha criticized him verbally, he was secretly glad to see this version of Yoon Moo-hwa, more softly relaxed than any he had seen before.

Above all, it was nothing short of a miracle that both had returned alive and unharmed. Alyosha, stopping his teasing, sank into his chair.

—You’ll probably be sent to the Arctic.

He lowered his voice and said:

—It looks like a sinecure now, but tension has been rising recently. It seems Russian mafia groups are building submarines to establish private property around the Arctic Ocean, and further, to create puppet states. It’s not just the Russian mafia; pirates are involved too. It’s complicated. So sending you to the Arctic is a stern warning on the surface…

“But in reality, it means they’re deploying forces in advance to prepare.” Yoon Moo-hwa replied without the slightest sign of agitation.

No, in fact, there was agitation.

Normally, he wouldn’t have cared where he was thrown. Orders were orders, and the results achieved and duties performed were sufficient reward.

But not anymore. Now, even if Haero wanted to leave the ship, Yoon Moo-hwa wouldn’t allow it. Wherever he went, he had to be with Haero. As such, Yoon Moo-hwa wasn’t pleased about having to expose Haero to that dangerous sea as well.

But knowing Haero…

Given the importance of the matter, Alyosha said no more, and Yoon Moo-hwa didn’t ask.

When the call ended and he came out, he saw Haero sleeping soundly on the sofa, covered with a blanket.

Bringing Haero into his home was the natural progression. Haero didn’t refuse either. Instead, he immediately unpacked his belongings at Yoon Moo-hwa’s house and left traces of himself everywhere. Yoon Moo-hwa was very pleased about that.

The books left half-read and stacked on the floor and the cookie plate were among those traces.

Yoon Moo-hwa cleared away the cookie plate and moved the cup that was precariously close to Haero’s hand hanging off the sofa. Thanks to his extremely careful movements, Haero didn’t wake up.

Checking the time, it was approaching 3 o’clock. Military life was both very regular and very irregular due to duty hours. Because of this, it was important to be able to sleep and wake well at any time. Yoon Moo-hwa estimated that Haero had fallen asleep around 2:50 and headed to the kitchen. Haero usually started to feel a mild headache if his nap lasted more than an hour and a half.

Yoon Moo-hwa hand-ground Haero’s favorite coffee beans and prepared a pour-over.

The aroma spread throughout the house. The quarters, which had been somewhat bleak when he lived alone due to his focus solely on efficiency, had now become richer with a lovely disorderliness and fragrance.

A moment later, perhaps sensing the aroma, Haero stirred. He pulled the blanket up to the top of his head and curled up, suggesting he had decided to sleep more. But Yoon Moo-hwa knew Haero well.

“Haero, did you sleep well?”

“…Yeah. Are you making coffee?”

“Your favorite.”

Exactly two cups of coffee were brewed.

Due to climate change, coffee has become a very expensive luxury. However, Yoon Moo-hwa had always easily obtained it, and Haero only realized coffee was a luxury item after his not-quite-independence.

“They say coffee can be cultured now too.”

Haero sat up, gathering himself. As he accepted the coffee cup Yoon Moo-hwa offered, he asked, “Like seaweed?”

“Yes. Like seaweed.”

Haero sat with his knees together and patted the space next to him, which would be in front of him in a seated position. Yoon Moo-hwa took his seat. He naturally extended his arm over the back of the sofa and turned his body to face Haero.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah.”

Haero’s face was puffy and soft, suggesting he had indeed slept soundly. Yoon Moo-hwa stroked Haero’s cheek with the back of his hand. Haero tilted his head as if asking for more touches. It was very cute.

Haero was wearing a sleeveless shirt. As Yoon Moo-hwa was smiling softly, his gaze lowered and discovered the scars on Haero’s arm, darkening his expression.

“It doesn’t hurt.” Noticing that look, Haero said with clear eyes, “Really. It doesn’t hurt. And aren’t scars cool?”

Though he knew it wasn’t just empty consolation, Yoon Moo-hwa wasn’t particularly pleased.

“You know, I’ve always disliked seeing new wounds on your body, but I’ve always thought your existing scars were cool.”

“Did you?”

“Yeah. I think mine are like that too. Soldiers can get hurt sometimes.”

Soldiers can get hurt sometimes. Though true, it upset Yoon Moo-hwa. This must be why Haero always meticulously examined his body after returning from operations. Now it seemed Yoon Moo-hwa would develop the same habit. No, he definitely would.

Yoon Moo-hwa traced Haero’s arm with his fingertips. The new skin was exceptionally soft. And it seemed to have become much more sensitive. Every time those long fingers caressed his skin, Haero’s shoulders flinched.

“Ticklish?” Yoon Moo-hwa’s voice lowered.

“Yeah. Ticklish…”

Separate from his upset feelings, the atmosphere changed subtly.