Chapter Text
The first time she saw him, Yor was thirteen. She was being trained on how to safely and efficiently patch up the soldiers for the war. The war was relentless; every night she felt the vibrations of explosions and the screams of soldiers dying. Women weren’t allowed to fight, Yor had asked several times to be trained as a soldier– something in her heart told her she’d be a really good one. They wouldn’t allow it though, so the next best thing was a triage nurse.
She saw the new recruits; their training grounds just across from where the triage training was taking place. As she wrapped a bandage around a fellow nurse-in-training, she glanced up and made eye contact with a soldier from afar. He’s young, she thinks, far too young to be a soldier. He was blonde, hair on his head haphazardly from the strenuous work he’s doing. His ice blue eyes stood out too, contrasting with the dull landscape before them.
It was as if time slowed down for a moment as they gazed at each other. It was only for a moment, Yor knew, but she thought she’d like to see him again sometime. Although, war doesn’t breed an environment made for friendly meetups or casual conversations.
She sighed, unwrapping the gauze from the girl’s arm.
She spotted him again a few months later in the mess hall. He’d already begun to look a bit older since the last time she had seen him. The menu is the same as it always is-- a mysterious porridge, but hungry people will eat anything. And hungry people will do anything to get their portions first.
The first time she was shoved she didn’t think anything of it, boys roughhouse all the time. One of the boys from behind jumped in front of her–- she didn’t have it in her to fuss about it, so she let it be. But when two, three, four others cut her in line, accompanied with a few shoves, she started to get a little irritated.
“It’s a line! We all get the same food and the same amount, stop cutting the line and be respectful.” Yor sneered.
The group of boys giggled, and the ringleader made his way through the crowd, standing face to face with Yor.
“And what are you gonna do about it? Heal us to death?” He said and his groupies roared with laughter.
She could already feel the heat coming off her head and before she had a chance to say a word, a figure made their way in front of her. She took a glance upward, spotting the same blonde hair she couldn’t forget.
“Leave her alone or I’ll kick all your asses.” He said, monotoned. It sounded like he didn’t want to fight, but he would if provoked.
She wasn’t sure what sort of strength he’d displayed while training, but the guys backed off immediately. He sighed loudly, shaking his head a little. He took a step as though he was getting out of line and Yor immediately grabbed his shirt.
“Wait, where are you going? You’re not gonna eat?” She questioned.
He turned around, facing Yor and gently taking his sleeve out of her grip.
“I already ate,” He said, taking another step backwards.
“Well, a-at least tell me your name so I can thank you.”
“It’s Loid, and you don’t have to thank me.”
“I’m Yor, and thank you, Loid.”
She committed his name to memory as he stepped away from her, making his way out of the cafeteria. She didn’t need saving from that situation, she could have certainly handled it herself but since it was him, she was grateful.
Yor didn't see him again for a few years and she wondered about him at times. She believed in her heart that he was alive. Most of the soldiers brought back in body bags had their dog tags, and the John Does didn’t have his blonde hair. He had just gone on an important mission or something, she rationalized.
She was eighteen when she’d seen him again. She was now an established nurse, constantly near the battlefield to aid the injured soldiers with ease. She was able to quickly assess who could be patched up in a few minutes and who needed more serious medical attention. As she patched up one of the soldiers in her chair, she changed her gloves, turning away as she shouted for the next person to take a seat.
In her chair was the very man she spotted all those years ago. She was a little flustered at first, fumbling with her medical tray then sitting on the stool beside the cot. She was feeling a little embarrassed about her overall appearance, which was ridiculous to be thinking about in a warzone, she knew. Blood splatters adorned her white medical gown and mud clung to the bottom hem.
A few cuts were scattered over his face, arms and legs, most of them shallow, but she inspected them all to be sure.
“Feeling lightheaded or dizzy at all?” She said, making his eyes follow her finger.
He shook his head silently. His eyebrows furrowed for a moment as Yor took her finger away and she smiled a little.
“You’re the girl from the mess hall a few years ago,” He said, quietly.
“I was wondering if you’d remember. It’s nice to see you again,” She said, carefully disinfecting the deeper scrapes.
“Hard to forget a small girl about to rip the heads off of five boys that are much bigger than her.”
She chuckled heartily, placing bandages on his scrapes. He was much more talkative than the last times she’d seen him and she was happy, most of all, that he was alive. She felt prying about where he was when they weren’t even really friends would be distasteful, so she refrained from asking.
As much as she wished she could extend this conversation, she had a whole line of injured soldiers waiting for her assistance. So, she stood up and removed her gloves.
“You’re good to go,” She said reluctantly, “Let’s try to see each other more often than every four years.”
He smiled a little, seemingly surprised by her bold request. ‘Not under these circumstances’ was a given, but she wanted to make sure that he knew he had at least one person rooting for him in these lonely times.
She spotted him from afar one day when the battlefield wasn't active. It was relatively calm and the birds stayed nearby this time. Everyone was still training, preparing for the next attack. Surprisingly, it was one of the days the soldiers had some time for leave. So, Yor worked up the courage to approach him, since he received her so kindly the last time.
She doesn’t wear her nurse garments today; Opting for one of the two dresses she has clean right now. It’s a dark blue pinafore dress that had surely seen better days, the hem hitting her shin. She wore a collared white button up underneath and her boots were more worn out than her dress, but it was as good as anyone could expect given the conditions.
Loid sat alone on a disintegrating brick wall that was quite a distance from everyone else. She would hardly see him spending time with the other soldiers like everyone else did, though she couldn’t fault him. Yor was regularly left out of the cliques that formed between the nurses. Even as she neared adulthood, she thought they were meaner now than when they were learning together at thirteen.
She approached slowly from behind, intentionally making loud steps so he knew someone was behind him— she didn’t want to scare him. He turned his head slightly, a stoic expression on his face, until he noticed it was Yor. The line in his forehead smoothed and he looked relieved. Their eyes met for a moment and she smiled softly, gracefully taking a seat next to him on the wall.
“It’s nice when it’s quiet…” She said, looking over the horizon.
Flocks of birds flew above and butterflies and bees flew haphazardly. Even with a wasp nearby, she couldn’t find it in her to be afraid because war was much scarier than whatever the wasp could do to her. The wind wisped, taking pieces of her hair with it. Something about the setting was making her feel something she hadn’t felt in a long time– Peace. No matter how temporary, she felt so grateful to be sharing this moment with him.
“Won’t last,” Loid muttered.
Her head snapped towards him, bending slightly to look at his face. He wouldn’t look back at her and she figured it would be better not to pry. It would be a shame to scare away her only “friend” and she didn’t want to find out how far her loneliness could go. She felt she could trust and confide in him, but it had to be mutual and she didn’t want to be a pushover.
He was quieter than usual though, usually by now he would have least looked at her once. Regardless, she just wanted to be in his presence.
“Even when you don’t talk back, I enjoy your presence far more than anyone else’s back at the camp.”
His head turned towards her, as if he was surprised by her words. She wasn’t sure which part though, and she hoped it didn’t come across as rude because she noticed it was a one-sided conversation. His face wore many emotions and none at all. Yor was unable to tell what was going through his head, but this time he did look her in the eyes. His eyes were as deep as a frozen lake and hers were the color of magma. She felt it represented them in ways neither of them understood, yet she felt that even the slightest touch from him could cool her down and prevent an eruption.
“Are they still being unkind to you?” He said, eyeing her sincerely.
He was such a genuine person, she thought, it was a shame no one else saw this side of him. Another selfish part of her was glad it was only her who saw him this way. She knew who he was despite not knowing much about him personally, she felt connected to him on a far deeper level than anyone she had ever known— And she’d come across many, many people over the years.
She shook her head slowly, “Not… really. They don’t go out of their way to be mean anymore, they just ignore me now. I’m fine with it though, I enjoy silence especially now.”
He hummed, looking back over the horizon. The sun was starting to set; A new day meant new dangers, the protected bubble they were in would soon pop.
So, she worked up the courage to say something silly, something unrealistic.
“If… If the war ever ends, I’d like to truly get to know you,” She said hesitantly, “When we have time. We’re both so busy all the time and the fear of getting attached in such a risky environment weighs on me, I’m sure it does for you too. So, if the war ever ends, find me.”
Yor saw the slightest hint of a smile as he eyed her again. His eyebrows were lifted and his eyes were wide. She felt prideful that she could coax such emotions out of him, ones that she’d never seen him do for other people. If she looked closely, she could see the slightest red flush on his cheeks and ears. She wouldn’t point it out— Their friendship wasn’t solid enough yet.
He nodded with a finality, “Okay, I will.”
She smiled, feeling incredibly giddy. The sun was below the horizon now, half of the sky nearly black. She felt she accomplished her goal by speaking to him today, as well as informing him that she’d like to know more about him. On such a high, Yor bid him good night— She had an early start tomorrow and she didn’t want to keep either of them out longer than necessary.
He talked to her more after that day. He was the first to initiate a lot of the conversations. They meet for lunch when they can, sitting outside away from the others. People start to notice, but they never say anything. Most of them have their own cliques anyway.
They learn more about each other. She learned that Loid lost his family in the war, Yor shared that she did as well. She learned that he’s not originally from here. He tried to survive by himself when he was young and he was quite malnourished and dehydrated when he was found by a soldier here. The day she spotted him on the training grounds when she was thirteen was after he’d been nursed back to health. He admitted he was too young to be serving, only sixteen at the time, but he wanted to help in any way he could.
Yor shared that she lost her family in the war– not by defending their home, but by the infectious diseases that ravaged her town. She found it unfair, then and now, that she was the sole survivor of her family. Taking her younger brother away from her was a pain she wouldn’t wish on anyone.
He warmed up to her like a sunny day after a blizzard. Not only socially, but physically as well. He would remove leaves from her hair when she ducked under a too-short tree. He offered a hand to her when she stepped over the brick wall that had become so familiar to them. He hugged her before he left for the battlefield. She’s thankful for it all, but most of all, she was scared because she liked him a lot.
It’d be a waste to live a life without any meaningful relationships in her life just because of what happened to her family. Fear stifled her for so long; She didn’t mesh well with any of the people she worked with anyway. She felt grateful for it for a while, but she knew when she saw Loid for the first time that her stubbornness would wither.
He remembered her birthday as the years passed. For her nineteenth, he gave her a horse he carved out of wood. She laughs and accepts it graciously, she hadn’t received a gift for her birthday in years. On her twentieth birthday, he set up a picnic spot under a tree by their brick wall. There isn’t a particularly wondrous spread of food— they’re both aware of the conditions war has put them in, but they make the most of it anyway. He builds a flower crown for her that day, placing it upon her head proudly.
On her twenty-first birthday, Loid found wine and they shared it at their usual spot. The wine is bad, but they don’t care. A free night means enjoying any luxury and peace they’re able to get. They clinked their plastic cups, downing it like juice. She looked at him a lot in her drunken stupor (she’s definitely a lightweight) and she felt so happy to have met him.
And she thought over and over how much she valued their friendship as her mind swirled somewhere inappropriate for two friends enjoying themselves on a nice night. Yor knew it was because she was drunk, or was it? She shook her head and tried to remove any and all of those thoughts.
That night, he carried her back to her room. She thinks she hears him mutter something as he stands after placing her in her bed so gently. He tucked her hair behind her ear and she heard ‘happy birthday’ and ‘beautiful’, but her hearing couldn't be trusted as she dozed under the influence.
He’s not there for her twenty-second. His squadron was called for battle and she felt a bitterness so powerful it bubbles up inside her, making her a ticking time bomb. He made her feel special on a day she dreaded for years, it was difficult to let that go. But she did and treated it as if it were any other day. She placed the carved horse he’d made for her next to her medical tray as a reminder.
Days passed and she wondered why she was so affected by his absence this time. Before she could go years without seeing him and now mere days without spotting him from afar felt lonelier than all the years before she knew him. She spent most of the days alone, isolated from the other nurses. She didn’t converse with any of the soldiers she treated aside from the usual medical jargon. A feeling of worry nipped at her like a buzzing fly— She convinced herself she’s being paranoid.
Weeks and months without seeing the soldiers were commonplace. In time, they would return to the base camp. Some nurses traveled with the squadron to deal with injuries on site, ones that are worse off are transferred back to base camp to be treated by Yor and the other nurses. She listened to the radio, waiting for any news about their arrival and hoped, prayed that they would make it back safely.
On a cloudy day as she cleaned her station, Yor heard clamoring in the distance. She got up quickly, running outside to see what the commotion was about. She figured it had to be the squadron on their way back and she felt a wash of relief because Loid was finally coming home.
They trickled in slowly, somber expressions on most of their faces and Yor felt a sudden intense feeling of panic. Her eyes scanned the crowd with urgency as she tried to spot the blonde hair she knew so well. She pushed through her colleagues to get closer and when she got to the front, she felt everyone’s eyes on her.
Yor spotted Loid, but the relief on her face quickly turned to horror. His blonde hair was bloodied and his skin clammy and colorless. Everything seemed to move in slow motion after that. She felt various people grab her arms, though she could hardly register the physical sensations around her.
She tried to run to him as they carried him on the stretcher, but she was held back almost instantly. Her hearing is muffled, but she thinks the agonized screaming she was hearing is her own. Her vision was blurred and it took her a moment to realize that it’s because of the tears filling her eyes. She was unsure if he was alive and no one would tell her.
She grabbed the nearest soldier and pleaded with him to tell her his condition. He stated that Loid was too close to a mine albeit not directly on top of it like another unlucky soldier. He’s alive for now, he said, but he looked at her with sympathy she hadn’t seen since her family passed. She fell to her knees, dirtying her gown and digging fingers into the dirt below.
She had to think positively, she knew, and because of her reaction, she knew they wouldn’t let her within a foot of him until he was better or dead.
Yor’s not sure how long she stayed there. She spent a lot of the time on the ground outside of her body, chastising herself for getting so attached to the point of a public breakdown. Maybe others had experienced this as well, but she hadn’t seen or cared.
Eventually, someone guided her to her room. She spent the rest of the night soaking her pillow with tears.
It took a week for them to stabilize him. They don’t tell her much, just that he survived and slipped into a coma. It took her a week to recover from seeing him like that and they still wouldn’t let her see him. After her very public wailing, they withheld her from patching up soldiers until further notice. She found it silly— Anyone would react like that upon seeing a loved one bloodied.
She took the time allotted to distract herself. Yor had trouble getting out of bed for the first few days, but on the fourth day, she finally got up to get a meal. People stared and whispered, but she didn't care much.
As she grabbed a portion of the same old porridge that’s always served, she eyed the brick wall they spent so much time at. Yor found she couldn’t bring herself to go there without him. She settled for her room.
After a few minutes passed, a few soft knocks hit her door. She muttered a “come in” and continued slurping her meal, paying no mind to whoever opens the door. She glanced up for a moment, spotting her colleague. The woman before her was one of the nicer ones, she never really participated in the active bullying she received for some years there— but she never intervened either. She wasn’t sure if she even remembered her name… Was it Shirley? Shondra? Sharon.
“Hi, Yor.” She said quietly.
She didn't say anything back, nodding a little and making eye contact. Sharon walked in slowly, hands fidgeting and eyes shifty as though she were nervous. Yor realized she had never seen her like this and she wondered where Sharon was when she was wailing by the squadron.
Sharon cleared her throat a little, “I know people aren’t telling you much. When I lost my husband, the same thing happened to me. You may not be married, but everyone at the base camp can tell how much you mean to each other. I was just going to update you on his condition in detail, since keeping you removed from the situation probably isn’t helping much.”
Yor eyes lit up, a bowl of barely edible porridge tossed aside. She stood up, approaching Sharon with her hands interlocked so tightly her fingers went white.
“He’s stabilized, of course, which you know already. He suffered a lot of internal damage more than anything physical. A collapsed lung along with a severe concussion and internal bleeding in his stomach, he had contusions all over his body as well. The severity caused the coma, but we’re not sure when or… if he’ll wake up. I wouldn’t give up hope just yet, but I’m going to try my best to allow you to visit. Loved ones are usually a key factor in helping patients recover.”
Yor’s not sure what to say as her eyes welled up with tears. The only thing she thought of that could show an ounce of the gratitude she felt was to hug her. She lunged toward Sharon, arms wrapping around her neck and tears wetting her gown. Sharon was understandably taken aback, before reluctantly reciprocated the hug.
“Thank you so much, Sharon,” She said pathetically, “I-I don’t know what I can do to thank you. I’ll th—”
She was interrupted by Sharon prying them apart, a small smile on her lips.
“You don’t have to do anything; I’m doing this out of the kindness of my heart. You haven’t been treated fairly around here, it’s the least I can do.”
By the next week, Sharon convinced the head doctor to allow Yor to visit.
She’d be lying if she wasn’t a little scared. It was easy seeing someone you cared about at their best, when they had slept all night or were illuminated by the sunlight. Considering how she reacted the last time she saw him, she wanted to try her best not to repeat that. Her fists tightened as she stood in front of his door, working up the courage to enter.
With a huff, she pushed the door open.
He looked a lot better than the first time she saw him. His blonde hair was unbloodied and clean; he was missing a bit of color, a slight warmness to his face that he always wore, but besides that he looked… so much better. She approached him with ease, eyes already beginning to become teary. He would chastise her so much for this if he were awake right now, she knew.
She brought the nearest chair to Loid’s bed, scooting as close as she could without her knees hitting the bed. With the softest touch, she brought a hand to his forehead and traced the edge of his face. Tears streamed down her face as she clenched the bed rail with her other hand.
“Oh, my love…” She whispered.
Yor was surprised by her own words, but she felt as though she admitted to herself the day he was injured that she would only react that way to someone she really, truly loved. And she hoped dearly that she would be able to tell him. He had to wake up— he had to.
She visited him nearly every day. She wasn’t completely sure about the protocol for a coma, but she felt in her heart that if he heard her voice he would have no choice but to awaken. She searched for every book on the base camp and asked anyone who would be willing to spare one so she could read aloud to him.
She wanted to take care of him in any way they would allow her to. When his hair got a little longer, she used shears to cut his hair the way he’d always had it. She adjusted his head or body when it seemed he was in the same position for a little too long— the nurses were doing it as well, but she felt better doing it herself.
Yor spent a lot of time looking at him. She looked at him a lot beforehand too, but for reasons she was unable to comprehend at the time. Now, she knew, it was because she loved him. Holding his hand was the only way she’d felt safe before he was injured.
She remembered a particular night a week or so before the incident. It was storming violently and the thunder was sounding similar to bombs at times. Loid had come to visit her in her room, luckily her roommate had decided to spend the night at a friend’s room as well. He noticed when she looked visibly shaken as much as she tried to hide it. Without a word, he intertwined her fingers with his.
“Will you stay with me? A-at least until I fall asleep.” She’d said.
“Of course.” He’d said.
When she’d awoken that morning, he was still there and their hands still intertwined.
With a certain bravery, she grabbed his still hand. It was warm, but not as burning hot as it felt that night in her room. Yor wanted nothing more for his hand to squeeze hers back. She brought the back of his hand to her forehead, eyes brimming with tears.
“You have to wake up, Loid,” She said tearfully, “I can’t go through this again. I need you.”
She pleaded with the quietest whispers; someone in the same room would have difficulty hearing her. Her desperation was eating her alive, but she knew it was pointless to let it consume her as it did once before. It wouldn’t do anything to help Loid and it would only make her an even bigger outcast than she already was. She knew everyone was doing their best to help him. He was such an important part of the squadron and she knew the soldiers were mourning as well. Even if they rarely spoke, they were still responsible for each other’s lives on the battlefield. Every now and then when she came to visit, Yor would spot some of the soldiers coming to visit him or give her their condolences.
She was angry, so so angry. Her fiery eyes burned as more tears cascaded down her face. She thought maybe she’d done something in her current life or past life to warrant this punishment. The anger that was simmering was mostly at herself because she felt herself starting to lose hope. Her mind supplied nothing helpful, aiding in the doubt she placed in this situation going in her favor.
Yor continued pleading— She was unsure how long she sat like that, whispering to herself. She squeezed his hand one last time, placing a kiss on his palm.
As she began to place his hand back to his side, she felt the slightest movement in his fingers. Just when she believed she imagined it, a strong squeeze enveloped her hand. Wide red eyes snapped to Loid as she watched with wonder as he slowly blinked his eyes open.
“Loid? Loid, oh my god,”
She stood up quickly and with such force that it sent the chair she sat in across the room. Tears spilled out of her eyes quicker now, the tightness in her chest unraveling with each passing second. Yor ran out of the room and screamed for the nearest nurse, informing anyone and everyone nearby that he was awake. She turned to look at him again from the doorway and his icy blue eyes were a little dimmed, but eyed her with the adoration she knew so well.
She reached his side as a few nurses walked in, grabbing his hand and rubbing her thumb on it. She knew they would ask her to leave the room soon to make sure everything was okay. He hadn’t said a word since he woke up, but his eyes continued to linger on Yor. She didn’t know what he remembered or if his coma could’ve affected how their relationship was perceived to him. A feeling of dread settled in her gut, but most of all she was just happy he was awake. If she had to redo her entire relationship with him, she would do it a thousand times over if it meant being with him.
A nurse began to guide her out of the room and she moved, albeit reluctantly. Yor took one last look back and as their eyes met, she watched his lips say her name. When the room door was shut, she fell against the wall in the hallway and wailed with a smile on her face.