"We are together"
"Something happened, don't drag me down."
"My back is left to you."
"Why? Why do you want to come with me?"
"I just don't want to leave you."
"Are you afraid of death?"
"Death is a tender thing for us."
"None of us should drag anyone down..."
"Are you tired?"
"Liar."
He walked toward me out of the smoke, covered in blood. Stopped three steps away from me and looked at me. His face was dirty, and the outline of his eyebrows could not be seen clearly, but his eyes were surprisingly bright. Although he was in a mess, he was still upright. He said "Let's go together..."
There is no romance, no oaths of friendship, no everlasting love. Two people living together in a tropical rainforest riddled with bullets, dodging and killing along the way. They rarely talk in the wind and rain, swords and guns, and are used to seeing blood and massacres. They are neither sad nor happy when facing the death of others or themselves. Running hand in hand in the woods and hugging each other on a rainy night were the only lingering moments in their desperate journey. The phrase "I just don't want to leave you" is their only oath.
In their short and dark life, the seven days together were the only light. However, it was only for a short seven days. For a short time, they didn't even have time to ask each other's name...