I paced outside the training center, jumping every time the door swung open. Every time it was either a trainee or another trainer exiting the building.

I hugged myself tightly as I continued to walk in circles on the sidewalk that lead up to the training center. Should I have tried harder to stay silent? But I couldn't help myself. The helpless boy... so young... and he'd been about to collapse. No, he had collapsed. And Jimin had been merciless. I'd just gotten so scared...

The entrance to the center opened again and I halted midstep as Jimin exited. His face was still impassive and I had to force myself not to back away as he approached. He jerked his head to the side and stepped off the path. He wanted us to get away from the entrance of the center.

I didn't know if I should feel relieved or more apprehensive.

I reluctantly followed him around the large training center until we stopped under a couple secluded trees on the side of the building.

Jimin whirled around and this time I really did take a step back. The angry glint in his eye was unmistakeable. "Don't ever undermine my authority in front of the trainees again."

It took me a couple seconds to comprehend his words. Then my own anger began to bubble up in me. "Undermine... how the hell did I undermine your authority? What, by defending that little boy?"

"Yes!" Jimin snapped back. "You don't defend trainees, especially recruits. It sends them the wrong message that their authorities and trainers don't have control."

"That boy couldn't have been any older than thirteen years old Park Jimin."

"So?"

"He was just a kid!" I exploded. "He's too young. It's too harsh. He doesn't deserve that cruelty!"

"Cruelty?" A huff of cold laughter escaped Jimin and he raked a hand through his hair. "This is training. This is how soldiers are made. It's not cruel. It's not good. They don't deserve it. But it's necessary. It's just the way things are. There's no room for compassion while training because you'll find no compassion when you're fighting for your life in the middle of battle!"

I fell silent at Jimin's vehement yell.

His eyes were wild and distant, his mind clearly recalling something entirely different than what we were arguing about. His chest rose and fell rapidly and his very Marks seemed to pulse.

Maybe it was necessary to bring up these future soldiers in the most merciless conditions so they'd grow accustomed to the merciless conditions of the real battlefield. It still didn't feel right though. Not to a twelve or thirteen year old.

"You know what happens to the trainees if they don't make it?" Jimin's voice had fallen back down, though it shook a little with remnants of rage. "Do you know what happens if they break?"

I shook my head.

"They're sent back home." Jimin crossed his arms tightly across his chest. "It's utterly shameful when you're rejected by the military because you failed. It's dishonoring. Humiliating. But at least they get to go back home."

I bit my lip as the implications of his words settled in.

Jimin took a deep, shaky breath. "You're right. That kid was probably twelve or thirteen years old. I don't know why his family might've allowed him to get recruited, especially as he was a human kid. But he's too young to be in this training program. If he'd been unable to get up from those push ups, I would've signed the form that he's incompetent and he'd be sent back home where he belonged."

God dammit, Jiyeon. Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid...

"He's going to keep going now." Defeat laced through his voice and he leaned heavily against one of the trees we were standing under. "He'll break within this week nonetheless. But a lot of other trainers will make sure he's on the brink of unconsciousness before dubbing him incompetent."

"I'm so sorry," I whispered.

Jimin shrugged wearily. "What's been done is done. Like I said, the kid is not going to make it. I can tell he doesn't have what it takes. If it wasn't going to be with me, it's going to be with another trainer."

I cautiously took a step towards him. "Did you... ever break when you were training?"

I'd heard the raw yearning hidden behind Jimin's words at the boy, number 5, being sent home.

"Multiple times."

"They never sent you home?"

He fixed a flat level stare at me. "My father is the Infinity Council General of warfare. You think I got to go home?" He laughed bitterly. "No, I was just sent to another camp if I was signed incompetent. After the fifth time I broke Father finally decided to train me himself. He was ashamed of me for not 'living up to the legacy waiting for me'. He called me a failure every time I messed up. He'd push me past the breaking point until at times I thought I'd lost my sanity and every shred of humanity left in me."

It felt like something was tearing inside my chest as Jimin opened up about his militant background that he'd been so elusive about for so long. "How old were you when you began training?"

"Six."

"Jimin..." I began to reach for him.

"No." He abruptly shied away as I took another step closer. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" I halted.

"Like... like I'm sort of broken toy you need to fix."

I set my jaw and finally closed the distance between us. I gently took his face into my hands, lifting his face so our eyes met. "You're not broken or a toy, Jimin," I murmured, gently stroking his cheeks with my thumbs. "You're strong, even after all you've gone through, you don't let it hold you down or hold you back. That takes true bravery from the heart. You're fearless."

He took my wrists and pulled me against him. We stood there, our arms wrapped around each other.

"You're wrong," he murmured. "I do have one fear that grows every single day, every single moment the world around us crumbles."

"What's that?"

I expected him to say something to do with the inevitable war drawing upon us all like a dark cloud of doom. Instead he said,

"I'm scared I might lose you forever."

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