(You're the) Oasis in my Desert | YuWin

Chapter 1

Enjoy this chapter. Warning if you've read my other stories: this chapter is perhaps twice as long as any chapter I've ever written maybe, it's a bit more than 6K words

*Ages

Yuta - 19
Sicheng - 18

As more characters show up I'll writing their ages as I'm adjusting the ages of the Gaang's characters too

Excuse any grammatically or spelling mistakes

TW in the end notes

。・゜・人・゜・。

  The burning smell of flesh floods the air following the dark smoke. His fists tremble as he walks through the wreckage, following the other soldiers back towards where their commander awaits. The smoke is everywhere, he can barely breathe. He brings a hand up to slip off the faceplate of his helmet but lets his hand fall, it's against code to take them off on the battlefield. And even then, it'll only worsen the smell. As he stands among his fellow soldiers, he looks around. Smudges of soot dirtying their uniforms, not that it can't be washed off of course. Blood paints many of them. None of their own, he's sure of that. It nearly blends into their uniforms, but blood is just dark enough to be able to tell apart from the red armored uniforms.

"Today, we secured another victory for the Fire Nation!" The man stands atop one of the few still standing structures of the village, a stone well. He tunes out Commander Zhao's speech, already knowing the words of which he'll sing praise about the Fire Nation, about spreading their glory and prosperity, that burning this village was needed... they didn't accept their help... so they needed to be rid of. Roars and cheers sound around him, a wild grin on the commander's face, but he can't hear any of them. His mind fills with static and the smell of burning flesh is mind numbing, as are the screams of men, women, and children alike in his head. The warmth of his fire aimed at homes of families. He deliberately tries to stay away from aiming at people, the innocent, but he can't always be so merciful, his hands are tied. When another soldier or commander is looking in his direction... he closes his eyes and uses as much strength as he can, hoping at the least that his fire is hot enough that they face a quick death.

  His inner Fire is roaring in him, pulsing, not with anger, not with the need to escape through his hands and fire, but with his emotions, his conflicting thoughts. It's so hard. He's only on his second year of his conscription, but it's so hard. How are they fine? Why can't I be like everyone else? Why do feel sick, why can't I sleep at night, hearing the screams? He lifts his head, looking around. They all look the same, the red armor, the helmets with skeleton faceplates, you can't even see their eyes through the eye holes. Like cold killers, you'd never be able to see who's behind the mask as their fire burns you, as their swords and spears pierce you.

  I can't do this anymore.

  Before he can even comprehend his own thoughts, he's pushing past the crowd of soldiers. Then he's running. He hears shouting. Hands grab at him but he shrugs and pushes them off, he needs to leave, he can't stay here. He can't hurt another innocent person, he can't continue doing this. Fire explodes right next to him and his head clears. He runs. He runs as fast as he can knowing he's made a grave error and can't stop. His heart pounds as fire just barely passes by him. He smells something burning His shoulder is on fire. Quickly, he puts it out, not stopping his pace. If he's caught... well, he better not get caught. He's deserting. He's committing treason. He's abandoning his platoon. He's running from them. He's running from everything. He promised his mom that he'd come back alive. I'm sorry mom, you'll never be able to see me again, not unless they send my burnt body back home or this endless war ends.