When she was relieved of the pain of calculus, Kira moved on to her favorite part of the day. Finally. Most people generally hated physical training, but she absolutely loved PT. It gave her the chance to relieve all her stress and frustration, take it all out on something that didn't matter. Punching bags and dummies don't feel anything. They're completely lifeless. There were no consequences if you hurt them. No screaming or crying or begging. It liberated her. She didn't have to waste time talking with words. Her body naturally did it all for her.

The freshly painted yellow walls of the gymnasium filled her with a new burst of energy as light beamed through the transparent windows. Dusty blue mats were scattered on the floor with various punching bags, gloves, reflex bags, and dummies.

"Pajari!"

Mister Kozlov shouted from the other side as Kira applied a thick hand wrap. His heavy frame lumbered her direction, sweat trickling down his sunburnt forehead. Summer in Nevada republic will do that. She finished wrapping the athletic tape, vaguely glancing in his direction. "Yes, Mister Kozlov?"

He cursed under his breath; some Russian slur Kira couldn't make out. Probably about the severe heat. "We're practicing drills."

"I know, sir."

"Hm. You gettin' smart with me?" He jabbed a finger against her shoulder.

Kira resisted the urge to rub her shoulder. "You said yesterday that we'd be practicing drills sir." Finished with wrapping, she cracked her knuckles. She bounced on the soles of her feet while jabbing the air repeatedly.

He mumbled. "Yeah well... just get to it." He firmly clapped her shoulder and went back to his chair on the other side of the gym.

Finally. She approached a vacant dummy. Its dead eyes stared into her. She hated that. Her hand swiftly struck it across the side of its head. It rattled for a moment, then steadied. She smirked, moving into a fighting stance without hesitation. Her left hand was ready to pounce, her right in a defensive position. Her bare feet danced like lightning; a natural sequence implanted in her mind.

Kira floated on the mat, dodging back and forth. Two jabs then a hook. Its head bobbled. Roundhouse, then spin. She twirled. Back fist, palm strike. The dummy frowned in disapproval. Who wouldn't? Its existence was meaningless. The only purpose it served was to be beaten on. A toy for man's sadistic pleasure. Kira scowled, sweat dripping down her sideburns. Her black ponytail bounced from her quick movements. Front kick, then hook it.

The world around her faded. Nobody else but her and the dummy. Its beige appearance was crumbling, the white foam underneath peeking out. It was insulting her, like she was nothing. Kira's nose flared. Whispers rang in her ear, unintelligible in a crude cacophony of sound. Like the white noise of a TV.

She grunted, jabbing the dummy over and over. Shut up.

Kira wasn't thinking clearly. Instead of planning out her next move, she impulsively punched, kicked, even scratched. Savagely.

Shut up!

"Zatknis'!" She spun on her heel and kicked. Her foot stung as the dummy fell with a loud thud. Her chest heaved; gray tank top soaked in sweat. She could feel everyone's eyes on her, but she didn't care. Water. Turning, she couldn't help but notice Sunny in the far corner of the gym. He had paused mid-punch on a speed bag to stare at her, clearly concerned.

"Pajari!" Kozlov stayed planted in his spot. "Take a walk, man'yak." A maniac, huh? Kira scoffed. She grabbed her water bottle next to the fallen dummy before heading for the door. Her foot throbbed from that final kick, but she walked it off, hiding her otherwise apparent pain. The cool metal of the door eased her back as she pushed it open, slipping outside into the burning sunlight.

Kira stopped at the foot of a skinny tree. The deeply brown bark had faded, decorated with indentations and signatures from several people who had more than likely been bored. The tree's branches reached high to the heavens, the evergreen leaves like puffballs sitting on the end of each thick branch. The "Joshua tree" was favorited in the academy. Kira preferred to call it a yucca palm, but it hadn't caught on.

A soft voice caught her off guard as she planted herself against the tree. "Kira?"

A slender figure slinked from the back entrance of the gym. Her tall figure tiptoed forward; a white t-shirt was draped over her body like a large blanket.

She stopped for a moment, her large doe eyes like glittering topaz. "Oh, sorry! Didn't meant to startle you, uh, Pajari."

Kira swatted. "No need for the formalities Yvie."

The girl smiled shyly, taking a spot next to her in the tree's shade. "You hurt yourself again?"

"I'll be fine." Kira took a long sip of her water. "I just need to walk it off."

"So just ignore it like usual?"

Kira frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Yvie took apart the pins holding up her hair, falling like mud in a landslide. "You always hurt yourself during PT. And then you ignore it, and then it proceeds to get worse." She continued to fix her hair back up into a bun. "It's a vicious cycle."

Silence passed for a minute or so. Kira playfully jabbed her. "It's not anything serious. And I don't always just ignore it."

"Yes, you do. Everyone knows you always get way too into PT." She grinned. "Remember that one time you dislocated your shoulder and wore a sling for a few weeks? Then we got that new recruit who bet he could take you down in three hits."

Kira chuckled, recalling that fight. "And I managed to get him down in two."

"And you re-dislocated your shoulder." They laughed, clutching their stomachs with wide grins. "You're on a whole other level Kira."

"Yeah well, takes practice."

"Some intense practice if you ask me."

"It's the only way to get better, get stronger."

"I suppose so. But you're like a war machine. Always going at it, no matter what. You hardly take breaks and you keep on pushing. And you don't care what anyone else thinks. It's incredibly terrifying."

"You're making me sound like a heartless robot, Myung." Yvie snickered. Kira leaned against the tree and took a deep breath, holding her hand up to the sky. "I don't see how that's always a bad thing. That's what makes me a good fighter. We have to be."

"I guess..." She scrunched her nose in thought, as she looked up to the sky. "That's just not how I really see it."

"At the end of the day, it's all about survival."

"I'm not sure it is. I think there's a lot more to it."

"Like what?" Kira let her arm drop.

"I don't know. I just don't think survival is the only thing that matters when it comes to being a soldier." Yvie adjusted and settled her head on Kira's shoulder. "It's a gray area if you ask me."

Kira mumbled. "I suppose." As they quieted themselves, the low hum of cicadas drowned out the busyness of the field with a melody. The sun danced high in the deep blue expanse, beating down mercilessly. It must've been around mid-afternoon. The wind picked up the cracked dirt, whisking it away to newfound places. One of these many signatures belonged to Kira and Yvie. The familiarity of a vanilla scent enveloping her body as brown hair tickled Kira's chin. Whether it was boredom during free time or late at night before lights out. The two of them had claimed this tree as their own, despite how many others had also done the same. Yvie fiddled with Kira's right hand. That habit of hers used to drive her crazy, but she's gotten used to it by now.

----- ♠︎ -----

"You'll be fine, but I'll give you an ankle brace to wear just in case. And you should ice it too." The nurse stood up from her stool and headed to the far back of the infirmary to an enormous closet. Next to it was a door that led to the operating room. Kira had only been in there once, when she got a bullet stuck in her calf. They had to rush and get her in so that they could get the bullet out properly, along with any other remains. Hurt like hell.

Kira adjusted the flimsy pillow behind her back, leaning against the wall. 20 white beds lined up on both sides of the room. A nightstand was to her left with an ice pack and some towels. The nurse shuffled through the closet's interior, clanging jars and shifting packages. Kira was the only one there. The silence was nice. Relaxing.

"Where...?" The nurse cursed under her breath. "Glupyy!"

Because calling it stupid will help. She sighed. "You need any help?"

"No! You stay. It's maybe in here." With that, she disappeared into the operating room.

Kira twiddled her fingers. She hated sitting still for long. It was better for her to be up and moving about.

She swung her legs to the right side of the bed. Just as she was about to jump to her feet, that singsong voice called out. "Don't even think about it."

"Ugh. You always show up at the wrong times, Sunny."

"Don't you mean the right times?" He gently closed the door. His feet dragged along the floor as he sat by her side, reaching for her hand. Kira noticeably hesitated but accepted it nonetheless. "You doing okay?"

"It's just a sprained ankle, Sunny. I'll survive." She smirked.

"You know that's not what I mean." Kira didn't speak. "You have a lot on your mind, huh?"

She pursed her lips. "Just been thinking a lot about things my Papa has told me. I can't stop coming back to it." Sunny was silent with an impending stare. "What's with the look?"

"Maybe talking to someone might help?"

"Why the hell would I need to? I'm fine, Sunny."

"It doesn't hurt Kira. Maybe just one time—"

"No, Sunny!"

The thought of seeing the military psychologist was absurd to her. What could they possibly do? Talk to them to solve her problems? She didn't have any. It was pointless.

Sunny exhaled, squeezing her hand. His hair was damp from sweat and slicked back evenly. He was tight-lipped with a scrunched forehead, processing what would be the best response, but there was none. Bits of hair were unevenly scattered on his sharp jawline. He must be trying to grow another beard. She rolled her eyes involuntarily, and it caught his attention.

He cocked his brow. "What's with that?"

Kira reached up to stroke his olive chin. It tickled her fingers. "You should shave."

"What? Why?"

"Because you can't grow a beard."

"Excuse me?" He pouted. Kira wasn't sure if he was being genuine or playing up the act. "I can so grow a beard."

"I'm willing to bet that this, by itself, has taken at least two weeks."

"That's where you're wrong. It's been one week and three and a half days." Sunny tapped her nose with a grin. His wide smile could brighten up any room, lift anyone's spirits. No matter how serious the situation, Sunny always managed to make the best of it. That's was one of the many reasons why she liked him. Having him around and so close to her felt natural, as if she had some sort of balance in her life.

As if I would tell him that. He would never let Kira hear the end of it.

"Sergeant Cho!" They turned to see the nurse emerge from the operating room, an ankle brace in her left hand. "When you get here?"

"A few minutes ago, Miss Lee."

She grumbled, shuffling closer to Kira in her all-white gown. "Wear this. Maybe week or so. Don't screw ankle more."

Kira took it tentatively. "Thank you."

Miss Lee muttered something in Korean under her breath. Too quiet for her to make out. She swiveled on her heel and headed for her desk in the back of the infirmary.

Sunny watched as Kira applied the ankle brace, handing her the ice pack. "Two times a day." It was her turn to pout. "At least."

"I don't need to be babied."

"It's not babying, it's telling you what you need to hear." She swore to herself. "If you won't go talk to the psychologist, at least listen to me on this. Please." His deep brown eyes were pleading, trembling and desperate.

"Why do you care so much?"

"What?"

"Seriously, why? I'm just one person." There are more than plenty of people in this world. "You don't need to worry about me all the time Sunny. It's a waste of your energy."

He didn't say anything for a while. His hand reached to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, stopping to cup her chin. His touch was gentle, hands smooth like running water. "I'm shocked that you even need to ask that question." He leaned forward, their foreheads barely touching. Kira could feel his breath on hers. They were so close.

Crinkles formed in the corner of his eyes as he smiled. Deep, pure happiness. "You're never a waste, Kira."

The world dissolved around them into a meaningless blur. Nothing except the steady ticking of a clock. The sifting of Miss Lee's papers didn't matter to her. Sunny's eyes captivated her, enveloping her in warmth like a hot cup of sbiten on a cold wintry night. She laughed with squinted eyes and burning cheeks. They both laughed.

Sitting on a rumpled bed in the empty infirmary.

----- ♠︎ -----