In These Arms [mxm]

Chapter 34 - Three starbursts

"Intracranial hypertension... medically induced comma... his brain needs rest... it may affect him once more... he will wake when he's ready..."

Seven years ago...

It was a shock to hear my name called for compulsory deployment just one month into my enlistment, but it also felt like an opportunity granted only for me. When I had no particular set of skills, did not stand out from the rest, and had no prior training or experience to warrant my participation in a crucial foreign operation. It scared Chanyeol for me, but I knew that he was proud.

The day of my departure, Chanyeol snuck out of his own training camp to see me off. When I saw him running through the airport, jumping over every hurdle or shoving people out of his way as he kept his bag secure over his shoulder with one arm. He looked so cool, so desperate, and the moment his eyes locked with mine, our bodies no sooner fell into an embrace. Chanyeol swung me into the air and then held me up with my legs wrapped around his waist. We stayed like this, hugging and grasping each other desperately.

We would be separated for no less than six months, which would be longer than any moment we spent apart since first forming our bond thirteen years ago. I clutched his shoulders, terrified to let go of him. My squad members walked on through the gates while I remained latched to Chanyeol, taking in his warmth, his strength, and his scent. I would miss it more than anything. When he finally let me go, my gaze fell to the floor. If I didn't focus my attention, I would be sure to burst into tears. My longing for him overshadowed any sense of pride I felt for being selected into this operation.

His finger moved under my chin and gently lifted my face to look up at him. His eyes searched mine, while his lips offered a comforting smile. They glazed over, but he was determined not to show me any weakness. I could sense that he wanted to be my strength, even if he did not feel so strong, himself. As desperately as I wanted to kiss him goodbye, I knew that would bring trouble for us both.

"Private Bom!" My commander called. "Get a move on."

I briefly turned to see that he had was standing at the glass doors, waiting for me before he entered the terminal. Chanyeol and I clasped our arms around each other one final time before we broke apart. I took a few steps backwards, not wanting to break eye contact with him. Not wanting to lose sight of him. I wasn't ready to let go of him yet... I would never be ready.

"Be safe," Chanyeol said. "I'll see you when you come home."

I nodded, trying to fight back the tears. It was hard, but I pushed myself to turn around and walk towards the terminal doors where my leader stood waiting. I kept looking back, watching Chanyeol standing there. Is this how I'd see him when I returned home in six months' time? Rather than the painful tug of the heart as we parted ways, I would be able to run back and jump back into his embrace. That bag on his shoulder would have gifts, a delicious warm drink, or clean clothes for me. And he would lift my hand and guide me home. All I could do was fantasize as I looked back at him, one last time. The glass doors opened and allowed me through, and the faded image of him standing far off behind the glass was distorted by the reflections of those moving beside and ahead of me. There was nowhere left to look but ahead.

Several weeks of exhaustion and testing our limits passed. My duties were limited to messenger and combat training with more experienced members of the squad, or otherwise engaging in unanimous support roles for the locals on the outskirts of Kabul. We were there to provide relief amid the war with the Taliban, so my role here was not entirely redundant. On good days, I got to kick a soccer ball around with the street kids. On not so good days, we might recognize a potential threat of terrorism attached to innocent children or women. During these events, I was forced to sit back and allow the squad to take reign while watching all sorts of matters unfold. I would sit back, watch, and listen. No matter how many days passed, I could not figure out my purpose for being here.