Annyeongz One-shots

14. Love ?

The wind was merciless on the Mongolian plains. It swept across the wide expanse with no concern for comfort, pushing against tents, shaking the flags, and tearing through uniforms like sharp knives. But none of it mattered to Ahn Yujin—not the dust, not the wind, not even the numbing cold. His focus was set only on the target downrange, the rifle pressed firm to his shoulder, breath timed to the beat of his heartbeat.

He fired. The shot cracked through the air and split the silence like lightning. A perfect hit. The metal plate jerked back from the impact and swung gently on its chain.

“Again,” came the low, hard voice of the man standing beside him.

General Jang Hyunsuk.

Yujin didn’t waste a second. He reloaded in one swift motion and reset his stance. His legs were trembling slightly from the weighted run earlier, and his arms screamed from the series of physical drills they had done since dawn. But his eyes—his eyes remained sharp.

Behind the makeshift training outpost, half hidden by the shaded corridor of the command tower, a figure stood watching.

Jang Wonyoung’s gaze never wavered from Yujin.

Her coat was buttoned up to her throat, her long dark hair tucked under a military beret. Her position here wasn’t for combat. She was a medical officer, working administrative and logistics operations in the command center. But ever since the deployment to Mongolia, she’d found herself wandering to the edge of the field more often than necessary. She told herself it was curiosity. Observation. Duty, maybe. But deep down, she knew it was because of him.

Yujin.

She had known of him even before this mission. Back at the academy, he was the name everyone whispered. The Alpha Unit’s ace. The perfect soldier. Top scores. Most disciplined. Silent but sharp. He was two years above her, and though they never spoke directly, she remembered passing him in the halls—how the air around him felt different, heavy with control and purpose. She had liked him then. Silently. Carefully. She never let it show.

But her father noticed. He always did.

“I know you’ve been watching him since the academy,” her father had said one evening in his usual blunt tone. “You hide it well. But not from me.”

She hadn’t responded. There was nothing to say. She wasn’t a little girl who thought soldiers were romantic. But she couldn’t deny the strange, dull ache in her chest every time she saw Yujin in the field, throwing himself into every command her father gave him like his body was meant to break before it ever disobeyed.

Today was worse.

She watched as her father barked another command. “Drop. Fifty push-ups. Then sprint to the ridge and back. No water.”

Yujin didn’t blink. He dropped to the dirt and obeyed.

“Lower!” Jang Hyunsuk snapped, circling him like a predator. “You call that form? You want to survive the next mission, boy, you better learn to suffer now.”

Yujin grit his teeth, not from pain, but from discipline. “Yes, sir.”

Wonyoung’s throat tightened. It wasn’t just training. Her father was pushing him further than the others. And Yujin… he was taking it.

After the push-ups, Yujin launched into a sprint—boots pounding against the hard earth, breath clouding in the cold air. Dust flew up behind him, and Wonyoung’s eyes followed every step until he disappeared behind the rocky ridge, only to reappear moments later, sweat dripping down his neck, jaw clenched, eyes straight ahead.

When he returned, the General stepped into his path and slammed a firm hand against his chest, pushing him back a step.

“You think this is enough?” he growled.