BEN

“The way your country makes beans is different,” Ben comments the following morning quietly as he and the woman share the second to the last can of beans that the woman found in the abandoned dugout they’ve been staying in for a few days now. After changing the gauze on his wound, the woman made sure that they have something to eat even if it may not be enough to make them full.

Resources of any kind have been scarce because of the ongoing war. It’s a miracle that they still have something to feed themselves.

“I’ve noticed that your beans are mostly mushy,” Ben continues, “Was this made with old people in mind? I mean it’s considerate to an extent. But come on, even old people wouldn’t want to eat something that’s too mushy.”

The woman only hums in reply which shocks Ben.

He throws a quizzical look her way and asks, “What’s with that reply? You’re not that much of a talker now, are you?” The woman only looked at him with wide eyes and when he begins to chuckle softly, it seemed that her eyes have gotten bigger. Her facial expressions are like an open book to him.

“You’re the one who keeps on opening his mouth,” she suddenly teases him in a soft voice.

“Okay, first of all, it’s not ‘you’. It’s Ben, short for Benjamin. We know the names of each other’s family members already. It’s about time we know each other’s own names.”

She furrows her eyebrow at him and sharply tilts her head. “Ben?” She says carefully. The way she said his name sounded funny and unfamiliar in a sense. And yet it also sounded innocent – a tone Ben never heard before when it came to saying his name.

In all fairness, he likes how she says his name. "Yeah," he breathes out and the right corner of his mouth twitches up in amusement. "Is it your first time to hear such a name?"

The woman nods slowly. "I find it…a bit weird."

“Well,” Ben begins to explain, “mother wanted her children’s names to somewhat rhyme with each other. She had me first, Ben. Then the second is Camden, and the last is Diem. Ben’s actually a common name in my country.” He pauses for a moment and clears his throat a bit before finally asking, “Uh, what about yours? What’s your name? I can’t keep on calling you ‘woman’ if we’re going to be spending more time together, right?”

The woman lets out a small smile and says, “I’m…Mala. This name is a bit common also in my country.”

“Mala,” Ben whispers, trying out her name. “Mala,” he whispers again, this time with an effort to make sure that he can get her name across with no problem. “It’s fascinating. I’ve never heard such a name before.”

“I guess our names in some way are uncommon after all.” Mala sets the empty can of beans on the ground. She shifts a bit to hug her knees to her chest. Ben has noticed that she would frequently do that action. “Ben…how do you know my language?”

Ben couldn’t stop himself from chuckling. He had a feeling that she’s been wanting to ask that question the entire time they’d been together. “I was waiting for the day you would ask me.” Perhaps it won’t hurt to tell her the truth. “Would you believe me if I said that I was a librarian before I enlisted?”

He notices that Mala’s eyebrow raises slightly. “Librarian? Meaning…you worked at the library every day?”

No, I worked at the cemetery every day, he wanted to reply sarcastically. But…he thought it better not to. He can’t help it sometimes. Old habits die hard. Instead, he nods. “Every single day. I worked at the public library and was surrounded by books of all languages and all topics.”

Mala wouldn’t stop staring hard at him, as if she were trying to decode or make sense of something. Ben thinks that she’s genuinely surprised to hear that he used to be a librarian. “You okay?” He asks, “You never thought that I could be a librarian?”

“...You got a crass mouth for a librarian–”

“Shh!!” He interjects all of a sudden, bringing his right index finger to his lips. Uttering that sound has been a known stereotype that all would do or follow when it comes to acting like a librarian. In his experience, he only did that once when a group of rowdy high schoolers decided to visit the public library.

Mala stops mid-sentence, regarding him with wide eyes and she looked completely confused and taken aback by the out-of-the-blue action.

Her reaction makes Ben smile wider. “I made you shut up, didn’t I?” He teases. “See? I’m one damn good librarian.”

“I-I didn’t expect that at all–”

His smile then disappears to display a serious look on his face. “And do you really think I’m crass? Excuse you, I was the most brilliant in my class.”

“...Really?” Mala begins to scoot a bit closer to him. Ben thinks that he may have piqued more of her interest.

“I love reading books, Mala.” It’s nice to say her name. “To kill most of my time when I was working as the librarian, I kept on reading whatever was available. When I had to fix some of the books, I would read them as well. A book about your language was one of them. I enjoyed learning about your language and your culture.”

Mala nods in assent then asks, “When did you start learning my language?”

Ben hums, leaning back against the makeshift wall behind him. Looking up, he answers with a small and real smile gracing his features, starting to reminisce the good times he spent at the library surrounded by endless shelves filled with books. “I was 20 years old when I encountered that language book.” 

“20,” Mala murmured to herself but Ben was still able to hear her. In her normal voice, she asks the following question, “And how old are you now?”

“28,” he answers simply. “I’ve been learning your language for eight years.”

“Wow,” she sighs. “I never went to school seriously. Maybe I did a bit of elementary school but I started working at our family farm at around 12 years old. I haven’t gone back to school since then.”

“And how young are you now?”

“Young? Shouldn’t it be ‘old’?”

Ben shrugs nonchalantly. “I was taught to never call a woman old.” Because when I did that to my mother once, I got the biggest ass-whooping in my life. He didn’t want to explain to Mala the rest of his thoughts.

To his surprise, the woman titters at his comment. Smiling widely at him, she answers with added emphasis on the last word, “I’m 24 years young.”

“See?” He smiles. “And you wanted me to ask how ‘old’ you are. If you think you’re old then I should be walking with a cane by now,” he points out playfully.

Mala bursts out into louder laughter before clasping her hand over her mouth, clearly showing that she’s conscious and now shy of the sound she just made. “Sorry,” she timidly murmurs against her hand.

Ben, on the other hand, found it a pity that she ended her laughter early. He likes the sound of laughter and it was because of her laugh that he realizes that he misses the sound of it. When was the last time he and his comrades shared a laugh together before fighting in another area? His memories of that seem hazy already.

Ben shakes his head with a clear smile still evident on his face. “Don’t be. I like hearing the sound of happiness. In fact…I miss it actually. It’s refreshing from what we’ve been through for the past months.”

Mala’s hand slowly drops down back on her knee. “These past months have been difficult.”

"You could say that louder," he scoffs. "Is it your first time meeting someone like me?”

"Yes."

"Are you still scared?"

Mala shakes her head. "Frankly, not that much anymore. I heard rumors about your people."

Ben raises an inquisitive eyebrow at her. This is interesting. "What kind?" he genuinely asks.

“Only a name. The name of a lieutenant. Walt,” she whispers.

He stops breathing for a moment. Ben felt a shiver run down his spine and his body grows cold and becomes rigid. She said his family name.

He is Lieutenant Benjamin Walt. There is no other lieutenant he’s aware of that has the same family name. Ben never expected her to know about his name. Sure, his comrades revere him like some kind of deity sometimes because of how he fights and defends, but he never thought that it would reach the ears and attention of the enemy.

Watching her carefully, it looks as if simply saying his family name made her feel scared.

It’s best if he doesn’t tell her all about himself now.

If he were to reveal that he is the lieutenant she is referring to, it’s either he won’t survive…or he’ll have to kill her first.

“Lieutenant Walt?” He clarifies.

Mala nods softly. “Do you know him?”

“Of course,” he breathes out and averts his gaze from her. He’s me. “I’ve seen that man around.”

“Is he…” She trails off, waiting expectantly for him to finish her question.

“Like the rumors?” Ben continues for her and Mala nods. Maybe. “I wouldn’t know,” he mutters breathlessly. He needs to be careful with his choice of words unless he might give his identity away. “I’ve heard the rumors too, but we’re not that close for me to ask. You don’t have to be scared of him. He is not assigned to this area,” he says, lying through his teeth.

“I can’t help being worried. I was brought to this war out of impulse.”

We all were. Ben sets his lips into a tight line. Showing a bit of hesitance, he carefully asks, “But if he were injured and in need of a medic…would you have helped him?” That question would have been a hint for Mala and it was risky of him to ask it in the first place.

Yet, to his surprise, Mala answers almost immediately, “Of course. No one deserves to die in war. I’m sure Lieutenant Walt acts in such a manner because he is at war, but inside he’s still human.”

Caught off guard by her answer, it made Ben think. He too was fed with things regarding her people even if he read a lot about their culture. At first, he refused to believe all the things he was taught by his fellow soldiers, but sometimes one can't help it. If everyone is thinking of one particular thing at the same time, it's human nature to follow through. And it showed how he treated her when they first met. As Lieutenant Walt, he is known to be ruthless and unforgiving towards the enemy. But to Mala, he’s just another person who needed someone to heal him. He has never encountered a person like her in this war. "You're odd," he utters in a voice above a whisper.

"Is that a bad thing?" She warily asks.

"No...but if you're not careful enough, it could get you killed."

"Not by you, though," Mala points out without any reluctance.

This time, Ben coughs out an amused laugh. Though, he tried to hide his nervousness brought by that statement. He did think of killing her the first night together. Emphasis on ‘think.’ "I envy your confidence. Maybe when we survive this and things go, hopefully, back to normal, you could teach me how to farm."

Mala smiles softly at that suggestion. "And will you take me to a public library?"

He puffs out his chest and juts his chin at her, a confident look displayed on his face. I'll even let you place stamps on the book cards," he haughtily declares.

Mala giggles. "I can't wait."

He hears another sound of happiness from her again. And he doesn’t want that taken away from him. I won’t make her know who I am yet. Ignorance truly is bliss and Ben shall take this opportunity. Perhaps his responsibilities as a lieutenant can be forgotten just for a while. He can try to be like a normal person, like how he was before the war, with her. "For now," he grins at her, “I don't mind being stuck with you, Mala."

"I don't mind being stuck with you either."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

To those who read part 1 in MBTI Imagines, I'm sure their interaction in this chapter is familiar...but I did add some additional stuff which could be found only in this chapter. I hope you enjoyed it ;) ♡

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