Annyeongz One-shots

15. Love ? ( 2 )

The sun hadn’t even fully risen yet, but the base was already awake with the rhythmic stomps of boots against the dirt, Alpha Team lined up in perfect formation under Yujin’s sharp gaze.

“Count louder!” Yujin’s voice cut through the morning haze like a blade.

“One! Two! Three! Four!” the team shouted, their voices echoing across the open training grounds.

Yujin jogged backward for a moment, observing their pace. His expression was calm but focused. He didn’t just lead with orders—he led by example, his breathing steady, movements precise. Sweat rolled down his temples, but his posture never wavered.

From a distance, two figures stood in the shade of the observation post. One, broad-shouldered with folded arms, unreadable expression. Mr. Jang Hyunsuk. The other, slender, poised, her eyes silently following one man’s every move.

Wonyoung.

She didn’t say a word as her father silently watched the Alpha Unit drill. But her gaze lingered longer than it should have on Yujin—the way he moved with precision, how the team naturally followed his lead, how despite everything, he stood unwavering.

He hadn’t glanced her way. Not once. Not since that night.

It’s better this way, she tried to convince herself. But even she couldn’t ignore the sting in her chest.

Back on the training ground, Yujin finally clapped his hands. “Alright! Hydrate for five minutes. Then we start sparring rounds.”

His team dropped into stretches or headed for water, still joking and teasing like brothers in arms. Jihoon, the youngest of the group, suddenly pointed at Yujin with a smirk.

“Hey, leader—how many pushups until your abs break through your uniform?”

Everyone laughed, and Yujin gave a quiet, amused shake of his head. “Focus on your own training, Jihoon.”

But that wasn’t enough.

Jaehwan added, “Come on, sir! Let us live a little—show us what real discipline looks like.”

Yujin narrowed his eyes. “You want to run laps before sparring?”

But his warning had no bite. The teasing had only begun.

Before he could react, a few of them lunged forward jokingly, surrounding him.

“Don’t you dare—”

But they were already tugging at his shirt, laughing like idiots, and despite the protests, they had it half-off in seconds. Yujin rolled his eyes, but let them finish—resistance would only make it worse.

“Leader’s got a six-pack that could deflect bullets,” one joked.

“He could crush a watermelon between his shoulders,” said another.

Yujin finally stood there, shirtless, his upper body exposed under the sunlight—each line of muscle sharp from years of relentless training. A scar over his left rib peeked just beneath the bandage from his last mission, but even that didn’t dull the strength in his presence.

Then, Jihoon shouted, “I dare you, leader—sparring combat with no shirt! Show us how a real beast fights.”

Yujin stared at them for a beat. He wasn’t angry. Just… exasperated.

He turned slowly toward them, then glanced across the field—eyes brushing, just for a second, toward the observation post.

She was there.

Their eyes met.

Just a flash.

And she quickly looked away, startled, her cheeks faintly coloring as she dropped her gaze.