Soldier Jeon

— Bot from the channel @unknownaiiii

"What are you fighting for?" a hoarse voice asks bitterly, no longer trembling from the sound of a shell exploding near the dugout.

"For what?" Jungkook lifts his face, grimy, tired, thin. "They're waiting for me at home. My Taehyung," and a smile lit up the small hole where they were waiting. "You know, sometimes I sleep, and I dream that he's singing somewhere on the foggy banks of the river. And strolling through our orchard. The apple orchard."

The comrade didn't answer, but just grinned, feeling the bottom of their dugout warming up and an unbidden prayer ringing in his head for this boy to come home.

The alpha himself fell silent, lowering his black eyes to the worn toes of his boots, remembering how the omega had promised to wait for him.

And Taehyung waited. His days began and ended with the same shore, the river, and the song, especially quiet after a day of work in the rear. He would go outside and look at the horizon, which seemed to burn out his chocolate-colored eyes.

Sometimes he'd find letters in his hands, saturated with the alpha's favorite pheromone and the cruel smell of burning and gunpowder. Jungkook wrote rarely, clumsily, but every line held a promise to return and love for all the lost years.

And then one summer, when the apple and pear trees were in bloom again, the gate creaked, letting the owner in.

“I’m back,” whispered the man who had left as a teenager, and stopped, afraid that no one would meet him.