A Cadet's Solace

Chap 2

Seokjin could hardly concentrate long enough to watch the movie he picked out that night, talk less of sleeping a wink. His mind had wandered through nonsense explanations until inevitably, he ended up stumbling upon a sour memory.

Standing with his back to a wall along with several other comrades in a line, Seokjin listens to the dreadful voice commanding them to take off their pro gas masks. Shaky fingers comply, taking off his beret first before pulling the full face mask that is supposed to protect him off his face. His senses are immediately invaded.

Everything burns. Despite the temperature being -4°C, his nose, lungs, eyes, even his ability to think, are all being attacked by the searing gas. A fountain of tears, mucus and spit spill out of him. His vision blurs and his skin, every single inch of it, feels like it's being pricked by a million tiny needles. His chest forcefully contracts as his lungs struggle for air but the more he tries to breathe the finer his agony.

Seokjin thinks he might actually die. He's always been weak, suffering from the most silly allergies. If garlic and potatoes could make him sick, why couldn't this kill him? For 5 whole minutes, he coughs and gasps for air. 5 entire minutes pass before the door to the chamber flings open and they're permitted to leave. His arms flap like a bird, up down up down, as instructed, to help the gas clinging to his clothes escape easier as he runs out of that inferno, finally inspiring actual oxygen.

When the effects start to subside a few minutes after, Seokjin wants nothing more than to rush to his quarters so he can wash his face and neck, ease the prickly feeling, even if just a little, but just then he hears his name from across the threshold.

"Cadet Kim Seokjin!" He hears the blood-curdling voice of the Drill Sergeant.

Everyone that had been chattering amongst themselves about the nasty experience freeze, turning to him. Seokjin, still gasping for air, hurries off the ground towards him.

"Yes Sir!"

"What are you doing sitting on the floor?" He comes right up to Seokjin, screaming in his face, "Do you not see the snow?! Do I have to remind you of your duties?! Are you here for fun?!"

"No Sir!" Seokjin screams in reply, his eyes facing forward. Not looking away from the Drill Sergeant but not looking at him either.
Still struggling to breathe.

"Then move your ass!"

"Yes Sir!" He salutes and starts jogging immediately, several pairs of eyes following after him. He doesn't slow down until he's out of the training grounds.

Leather boots almost completely sink into the snow as Seokjin drags himself back his quarters, his teeth chattering and his fingers shaking in the cold. He ploughs straight to his mat to look for it right under where his head would be if he laid down. The one thing that he knows can keep him from falling apart right at this moment, the one thing he can clutch onto, both physically and mentally.

He sneaks his way back out to his post with his shovel and gloves, that sheet of paper already safely hidden in his pocket. When he gets there, he pulls it out and unfolds it, struggling with the small amount of light radiating from the flashlight in his head gear as he reads it. The first time he unfolded the butterfly origami and read this letter from MysticKimbab23, he didn't think it would end up meaning so much to him. It's almost like a anchor now. The only thing keeping him sane in this chaos. Seokjin holds the paper tightly after he's done and looks up at the sky, a blanket of stars that stretches to infinity.

He continues to shovel through the night then finally moves on to his watch duty, but the only thoughts that repeat in his mind are the words of that scrawny writing, and hope that he gets more letters from them.