Chapter Text
the good soldier
The nape of your neck is littered with goosebumps when you’re first relieved of your post. You nod to the approaching specialist as he situates himself where you’d just been standing for four hours, his blouse riddled with wrinkles and bunched up awkwardly around his waist. You couldn’t blame him for his appearance though; even though it is within military dishonor to wear a uniform so disgracefullly, the graveyard guard shift is one where your superiors would usually waive your lack of presentability merely because they pity you.
The commander of relief, Captain Kim, offers a sad smile as you trudged by.
“It’s getting colder, L/N. You should wear your neck gaiter since you cut your hair.”
You pause by his desk, allowing the last gust of wind chill from outside to seep into your exposed skin before the door closes.
Captain Kim is always a blessed sight on early mornings such as these. He looks pristine in his uniform, as usual, and dons it so professionally that it is no wonder he made rank at such a young age. His skin, a golden-tan, does not contrast the greens and browns of his OCPs (Operational Camouflage Pattern) but, rather, compliments the colors warmly. The photos on his desk display a young man in a burgundy graduation gown, donning black-rimmed glasses and a dorky grin. His hair was longer then, too. He proudly grasps the edges of a master’s degree in one hand, and encompasses his mother’s shoulders with the other.
Now the gown’s turned into OCPs, his glasses to contacts, and the ink of his hair has become cropped and shaved on the underside.
You blink after him, assuming the appropriate position when speaking to an officer. “I didn’t think you’d noticed, sir.”
Captain Kim grins and you flush under the intensity of his calculating orbs. “It is part of my job to notice everything, L/N.” His eyes traverse your body quickly, and he glances at the door you’d just entered from. “Also, you can relax with me. I might be stern with the other privates but you’ve been here long enough. You should know I’m not as much of a hard ass as the other commissioned officers in this company.”
You’re quick to stand naturally, your fists uncurling from the seams of your pants and your feet parting. “Yes sir, you’re one of the few.”
He smiles tiredly at this, leaning back in his chair.
“Go and get some sleep. I’ll tell your platoon sergeant to let you skip out on first formation.”
You frown, “I can make it to first, sir—”
“You just pulled a 0100-0500 shift and you want to attend a 0700 formation?”
Your lips clamp shut. Captain Kim Namjoon stares at you, like he knows he’s won. He crosses his arms over his chest and allows a fragment of pity to grace his lovely eyes.
“Look I get it; you’re one of the few soldiers with the actual bearing and military discipline to fight the need for sleep and perform all duties without hesitation. But,” He sighs, glancing at the clock on the stark white wall. “You’ve been doing it longer than what you’ve signed for. Don’t think I don’t know your situation. I talked to your company commander.”
Of course he did.
It was simple to state that the military had fucked you over. But saying that aloud would disgrace the force with which you dedicated your heart and life to. So you kept your mouth shut and accepted your happenings without question.
Essentially, you did your time in basic training, and you did your time in advanced individual training—the schooling for the job you were assigned to—and with that said and done, you should have been on your merry way to your first duty station or been faced with immediate deployment overseas.
Except that is not at all what happened.
According to your chain of command, you were with the unfortunate few whose orders had not been finalized—meaning that someone neglected to reserve a spot for you in a unit following all your trainings. Something that isn’t quite a rarity, but shitty nonetheless.
So you were, in essence, on a waiting list.
And you have been patiently waiting for three months.
At this point you would have been completely immersed into your new unit, job, and life. But as luck has it, you became really good at pulling the graveyard fire guard shift outside your company’s doors.
You became really good at standing at parade rest, staring straight ahead until your legs grow numb from locked knees and disturbed circulation, and you became really good at shifting your feet to regain feeling so you could stand for another three hours without becoming light-headed.
These are just some of the things that became your strong suit.
You also excel at going to the gym every day so you can pass that fitness test when you join your new company (if ever that occurs), and you also prove yourself worthy when it comes to being tasked with oddball jobs the supply sergeants have for you.
Really, you’re just a ghost, floating around with a meaningless rank and awaiting the day your name is checked off that list.
You glance at Captain Kim, sucking back a yawn. The clock reads 0508. You frown, rubbing the remnants of the goosebumps from the back of your neck.
“I guess this was just in the fine print of my contract, sir.”
The Captain’s lips tighten into a line, and he heaves a sigh before leaning forward in his seat. “Private, if it were up to me, I’d have you off and living your happiest life in a heartbeat. You’re a good soldier, and you deserve far more than what that contract has you for.”
A good soldier.
At 0524, you peel your socks from your feet and quickly tuck them beneath the scratchiness of your blanket. You fall against the pillow of your snugly folded rack and find sleep a lot sooner than you imagined.
You have no idea that in that time, your name is checked off the waiting list.
TWO WEEKS LATER
“Welcome, 68 Whiskeys,” A young 2nd Lieutenant waves a clipboard around, unenthusiastically. “To Fort Irons.” His dark eyes peer through the stark white bangs of his hair, which is surely out of regulation, and his shoulders hunch over like he’s spent too long on a computer. He looks bored, as though he has no business doing an introductory briefing. Something that is likely part of his job.
He’s kind of cute, but he seems like a crappy soldier.
The small group you’re situated in quietly listens, anticipation and trepidation thick in the air.
The Lieutenant carries on. “Welcome to the hardest part of your career.”
He scans the group of you, unimpressed with the future combat medics before him. You are the only female in the room. He meets your eyes instantly.
“Welcome to your greatest mistake.”
The gaze he sets you with leaves you clenching your fists at your sides. You know exactly what he is thinking. ‘You’re not gonna make it.’
And you challenge his gaze until he cannot fight the curve at the corner of his lips. Amusement dances in his eyes. He glances away, then, and you relax.
“I am 2nd Lieutenant Min, your commanding executive officer. Welcome to Foxtrot Company 2-12.”
