Art of War

Requested by ll-Turkey-ll

(I'm soooooooo sorry for this taking way too long to get to.. ;; I'm a terrible human being, This is way longer than I have expected for any of my one-shots to go. However, I hope you enjoy this piece. I enjoyed writing it).

-----------------

I was just a kid then skipping stones
Innocent and so alone 

I guess nobody knew who I was talking about when I speak of the war and how it changed people. How it changed me. Honestly, it was something that I did not want to work myself up for, at least not again. It all started, my story, when I saw him in the creek, young and handsome. I never considered my story as a love story.

I was ten years old. I was walking home from school, deciding that I wanted to do something somewhat productive in my life. I knew there was a creek beside the road that leads to my house so I decided to take a visit. That was when I saw him. It was a boy around my age. He didn't see me or notice me. He was captivating and I knew I had to talk to him. He seemed to be chucking small stones into the water, failing for it to skip. I could not help myself but to laugh at that, completely capturing him off guard.

His eyes, misty and full of shock and embarrassment, widened as they landed their gaze on my figure. I wasn't much of a kid, myself. I tended to be lazy, chubby, absolutely normal. I didn't want to be outside like all the other kids. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, having loves and being happy outside.

I found joy in being alone and being inside.

How did I get outside is another story.

Turning on his heels, the boy was fully turned to me. His hands that held the rocks were dropped to the ground. I don't remember much about this memory, but I did remember smiling lightly at him. I was never much of a talker, and younger me judged by the way he was poised and sealed his lips, he wasn't much of a talker, either. Strange, I had thought, how someone so introverted was outside, wanting to skip stones. I almost wanted to ask what he was doing, but I had no control over myself that I just walked right up to him and picked up the stones he had dropped minutes ago when we our eyes met.

I could feel his lingering gaze on my 10 year old self. I didn't give him a glance very often, and when I did, it was to see if he was looking or not, which in many cases, I had caught him staring at me.

I came around the creek about noon that day, and when we were finished skipping stones, it was close to sunset. Though this boy was a stranger to me, and we barely even talked, I still did not know his name, much to my shame. We glanced around the environment, feeling the exhaustion befell us as our tired eyes dart to the forest behind us. The boy looked at me again and placed a gentle hand on my forearm. I gulped suddenly and looked at him, fear laced in my eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but I didn't get to hear anything then because I did something rash.

I spoke.

"M-my name is (Y/N)" Flabbergasted, the boy, whom I had now noticed his features, scratched the blonde mess of hair on his head and adjusted the brown glasses that rested on the bridge of his nose. He looked like he was wanting to say something, and he was about to if it weren't for me rambling on and on about my 'sad' childhood. He kept watching me with those blue eyes, his eyebrows furrowed as if he was thinking, but I had taken it the wrong way.

"A-Are you mad at me?" I squeaked out when I noticed how he was looking at me sternly. Supposedly, his face had softened and there was a ghost of a smile on his face. He shook his head and held up his right hand.

"Name's B'rwald." That was the first time I had ever heard him speak, and I had not realized how smooth his voice sounded because it did not seem like he was mute or something, and that if he did start speaking, he would strain his vocal chords and be mad.

But I was glad he was able to talk, nonetheless.

A smile crept onto my face as I finally got to know the name of the new friend I made.

"It's great to meet you, Berwald!" I smiled, finally able to make friends with this guy. He was very friendly.

In a sense we were all alone
You could take my heart and you could take my home

We were friends for a very long time after that. I couldn't fathom how many times I had let loose because of trivial things and yet he was there, calm, understanding, listening to my every words. It was nice to have someone finally understand what I'm going through, even if they did not speak so much, but like the saying goes: actions speak louder than words. That gave me that sense of peace that I have always yearned for, and I loved it.

I also had found out that I was just a year older than he was, which was something that usually never occur, at least not to me. It was funny, actually. We acted opposite of our age differences. I was the carefree person, while he was the silent kind of guy. I could not blame him, though, he likes to be kept to himself.

We were by the creek again. I was standing there, looking into my reflections at the water. I had such beautiful hair that I kinda secretly take pride in. Three years ago, we had met in this little creek. Now, we looked so much different than our little selves. Three years could also change people, but looking at ourselves at this moment was something I dared not to think about, but at the same time, wanted. Berwald had changed so much physically. He was more stout than the pudgy-looking ten year old I remembered. He actually looked like he had done some good to his body.

Whereas, when I looked down at mine, it was the same as my ten year old self. Chubby. I always fought that thought forever, but this time, it came back to me. I looked to my friend who was more fit than I am, and then back to myself. The difference was astonishing. I had grew at least four inches, but the weight always came with that. At this moment in life, I was about as tall as Berwald, something I was actually grateful for.

When I looked to him, though, my heart swelled. He was skipping stones, albeit he was failing, but he always had that determination that filled his eyes whenever he held the smooth piece of earth in his hands. He lifted his hand that held the rock and positioned it beside him. With a flick of his wrist and the movement of his arms, they were gliding to the water. The rock smashed against the liquid with a splash and no skips were made. A small grunt erupted from his throat, which made me look with amusement. I took his hand that he used to skip stones and held then in mine.

I got behind him and positioned his hand so that he would be more comfortable in throwing.

"Hold the stones like you're holding a frisbee, except this time, your hand bends the other way and your arm is pointed away from your body, like this!" I used my hands to motion for him to move as well. When I had let my mind be distracted for a fraction of a second, reality hit me, and I noticed I was very close to Berwald, which caused me to blush a deep color.

'Don't be ridiculous.' I had thought bitterly to myself. It was true I may have a small thing for him, now was not the time to dwell on it. He might've not liked me back.

Snapping back to reality, I coughed, trying not to make it awkward for myself, but I failed so miserably at that. I stepped back, letting my best friend tackle this overwhelming feat as he flicked his wrist the way I taught him how. There was a smile on his face when the successful sounds of splashing were heard. He turned to look at me with a smile creeping onto his usually stoic face. I could not help myself but smile. I loved this moment, and forever will.

It was something that made me feel at home.

  But you'll never ever break my soul
No you'll never ever break my soul  

It was about time for school to start up again. Berwald and I have had a great friendship since that day, we would always play together after school. It was very relaxing and it made me feel like I was a part of something greater because of him.

One day, though, it was no different. We were skipping stones at the creek. Berwald was smiling while doing so, while I was wading in the water, my feet splashing everywhere, sometimes getting on him. He didn't mind, or he did but never showed it.

"What do you plan on doing when you get older?" I had no idea where the question came from, but curiosity had overruled any thought process I had. He stopped mid-swing and turned his head towards my figure. I could feel his blank gaze on the back of my head.

"B' in the 'rmy" came his response. His words struck me. I turned around and saw the look of seriousness in his eyes. It was at this moment that I knew that I was not going to be able to see him if he actually went away for how long? Months? Years? Hell, would I be able to see him again?

"You can't be serious, can you?" The question just slipped and rolled off my tongue like I could not control myself anymore. His gaze went to unreadable and I knew from that moment that I had said something I might've regretted for a long time. He just stood there, not moving. It began to scare me. "Say something, please." I whimpered. My bottom lip began to quiver at the thought of making my only - my best friend angry at me.

There were no words spoken after that. He just continued to stand there. I grew uncomfortable under his glare that I just turned back around and continued to wade in the water.

"I am." He finally spoke. I didn't respond, just nodded. I knew he was serious, but I didn't want to lose him.

  But you know me
I wanna go back but I can't back down
And you know me too well
'Cause  

Fast forward into our lives and he was old enough to draft into the military. We were both so young. I was young and naive. He was young and mature. Before this heartstopping moment, we were dating for a year. 

He and I have been happy together. We were that kind of couple that are always together and would not leave each other's sights. Some days I found that annoying, but other times, I wanted it to last. This was one of those moments.

Berwald was getting ready to leave for training. I could not express the thought I was having because it weighed too heavily on my mind. It was about time for him to depart along with other recruits. Along with me are a few of Berwald's other friends he made along the journey we had together. Lukas, Emil, Tino, Matthias, and little Peter; they joined in to see him leave.

"You better come back in one piece," I lectured. "You hear me?" He nodded, a ghost of a smile present on his face. I broke out into a smile as well and wrapped my arms around his torso, my face buried in his chest. I took a whiff of him and I could smell the too familiar scent of him.

You better come back before I personally whip your ass, I thought to myself. I chuckled lightly and gave him one last look before placing a gentle kiss on his lips. He stroked my face with his hand and entered the bus to be transported to the military boot camp. I was nervous for him. I waved obnoxiously for him, chanting 'good-bye' in different tones. I stopped myself from sobbing right there. There were so many thoughts that ran through my mind about the future, our future.

I guess I will have to wait until he gets back.

I'm a soldier, 'till it's over
You and I fighting for the art of war

It was like any normal day. I would spend my time taking my mind off of what I'm going through. I would have thoughts, negative thoughts, about him. Would I ever get to see him again? Yes, he came back after his military training, but war broke out and he was called in. Now, he's out there, doing God-knows-what. I spent my time in the library or in a café.

Flurries of people flock the town, talking amongst themselves about the sinful violence that spread world-wide. It affects not only themselves, but everyone else. Everyone is suffering. War is just another way people can create a reason to hate, to be paranoid, to suffer. I'm suffering.

Soon, chattering began to pick up to almost yelling. My eyes lazily wander from my hands to the streets. People are yelling at each other. They're tired. They want this to end. However, for a more different reason. I got up from my seat and walked out the entrance, suddenly becoming aware of the conversations.

"If these thieves can take my money, I can sure as hell take their lives!" A passerby suddenly shouted. I didn't want to be a part of this. Money was the last thing on my mind. It's true prices skyrocketed, but it wasn't going to change if people protested. Resources were used for the soldiers, and the government much to everyone's displeasure.

Everyone became finicky.

Soon, gunshots were heard. The citizens began to run in a frenzy. Each person bumping into each other. Fearful cries mixed with the halts of vehicles and the burning of rubber. Gunpowder smoke filled the air as men and women in unfamiliarized uniforms began to march into the town. I hid back in the café. My heart began pounding a mile a minutes. My mind raced with words too hard to form into sentences.

I just sat there and began to hyperventilate, the sounds soon drowning out. I could only hear my breathing. I see movements, I see gunfire, I see people running for their lives.

Soon the alarm began to go off. I had to cover my ears.

I still sat there, waiting.

Soon, more gunfires were heard and I saw the familiar uniforms I knew all too well.

Maybe he's there. I couldn't help the thought. I had to see. I got up from my place on the floor and went outside, being careful not to be seen. My eyes scanned the area until it rested on the familiar blonde head. I couldn't help the smile that crept onto my face.

It was at that moment, too, that there was a cease fire on both sides of the battle. This gave him the opportunity to look in my direction. I swore that I saw the surprised look on his face. He turned to the other soldiers, probably saying something to them before coming to me. He wrapped his arms around me protectively.

I missed this.

"I missed you." I sobbed. He placed gentle kisses on my temple and forehead, soothing me. It felt like this moment was going to last forever.

I didn't know.

Soon, there was a clanking noise, too close for my liking. We both turned our head towards the direction of the sound and soon found a grenade. There was suddenly a hard pressure on my shoulders and a force pushing me away roughly.

Time slowed down at that moment as I was shielded. An explosion went off. I felt the heat, and I felt the pressure. I landed on someone. I looked who it was and my heart dropped.

Below me was Berwald, and he had a massive head damage. Blood and dirt covered his face.

I couldn't help but scream and cry at the same time. I couldn't see clearly because of the tears.

There were hands trying to get me away and I let them. There was someone assessing the problem. I collapsed onto my knees, sobbing uncontrollably. I shouldn't have gotten out of the building.

This was my fault.

If only I stayed.

I'm a soldier
Up against the wall
Yeah

Three months. That's how long ago it happened. Berwald was in a coma after the incident and I could not forgive myself for the actions I decided to partake in that rash situation. He lied there on the hospital bed, relying on the machines to help him breathe. His chest heaved with every breath he took in. His eyes are solemnly closed. His lips are parted slightly. His hair in unruly. My hands shook with terrible fright.

"Berwald..." I pleaded. "Hang on and keep fighting. I don't want to lose you." It may be inevitable that I may lose him however I wanted a reason to keep believing that there was some way that he can be okay. I tend to ignore the reality of the situation.

I stayed by his side for a long time after that visit. I spent the next couple of months seeing him. He was still in the same state as he was, immobile, pale, solemn. My heart clenched at the sight. There had to be someway that he was going to wake up faster, but my struggles are only that: struggles.

I didn't eat for long periods of time, and when I did, it was something small, nothing nutrient-dense for my body. I didn't care about myself. I cared about Berwald.

I sat in the hospital room that one day, reminiscing about our childhood together, many years ago.

"Do you remember when we were in middle school," I said quietly, a small chuckle escaped my lips as I looked at our intertwined hands. "You went up to the teacher to ask for a favor, in which I still didn't know what it was even to this day, and when you came to sit beside me, you had this faraway look in your eyes." I took in a breath before I continued. "It was that same look whenever you talked about something you are passionate about, something you've always wanted. I caught you looking like that when I talk to you. It was funny, honestly. Never would have imagined we would be together at such a young age.

"Berwald, if you can hear me, I want you to know that I miss you so much. I want us to be together again. My world is not going to be the same without you." A tear stained my cheek as a small smile plastered onto my face. Sniffling, I wiped my eyes and bent over to place a gentle kiss on his temple.

  I'm a soldier, till it's over
Live and die fighting for the art of war  

Suddenly, his hands began to twitch. I took notice of this right away and began to have hope in me again. I looked up at him, placing my hand on his bicep, expecting him to wake up and smile at me and say many things that I desperately needed to hear.

"Berwald?" I asked softly. Soon, his eyes began to flutter open. I broke out into a grin. His eyes were still that beautiful color.

When he was admitted into the hospital, the doctors had informed me that he suffered massive brain and nerve damage from the pressure of the explosion. I knew that. They also informed me that there was a chance that he may or may not have amnesia, which I ignored.

I didn't want to think about that.

I didn't want a reality where things are going to be extremely difficult.

My sins are being paid for in suffering.

He groaned and slowly grazed his eyes around the room until they landed on mine. His eyes were so full of emotions, including one I didn't recognize. He began to shift and shake a bit. His lips parted wider and the sentence he spewed out were heartbreaking.

"Who 're y'u?" It was then at that moment I thought I was going crazy. I was hearing things, right? I was going crazy? I shook my head, my eyes brimming with tears.

"I'm (Y/N), silly. Don't you remember?" I laced my words with both worry and zaniness. I didn't want to believe this. It had to be some kind of sick joke he's pulling on me.

"No. Who th' hell 're y'u?" I pursed my lips hard. My tears free falling from my eyes. My grip on the railing of the bed was so tight my knuckled were turning white. This can't be happening. In that moment, I thought to myself that I was having a nightmare, and that I will wake up in the hospital chair and everything will be fine. I pinched myself and sure enough I was still there, bawling my eyes out in this demented and sick reality. It had to be a joke.

It wasn't real.

He doesn't have amnesia.

He does remember me.

He has to.

I can't live without him.

My months of being there for him when he's bedridden has served fruitless to me at that moment. Why?

"I'm sorry." I finally mumbled out in my crying fit and walked out of the room, brushing aggressively past every doctors, nurses, patients, and visitors. I don't want to see anyone.

  I'm a soldier, I will never fall  

Still, I went to see him everyday. His mindset never changed. The doctors told me he is suffering from severe amnesia and PTSD, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I didn't need anyone telling me what he has. I know what it was, how it affects the victims, how it affects others. I kept my distance, not saying a word. I desperately wanted to, though. I wanted Berwald to know that I am here and that I loved him. We had a good thing going before he went to join the military.

Angry doesn't even describe my mood.

I was loathing. If he had not decided to join the military, he would have been standing beside me, knowing full well who I am, not having to suffer PTSD, not suffering amnesia or severe brain and nerve damage. I doubted he could even walk.

Bitterness in my heart was becoming something I could control. Berwald stayed in the hospital bed, peacefully sleeping. I was sitting on the chair a couple of paces away. My thoughts were roaming violently about us, who we were.

  I will never fall  

Now? We were nothing now.

More thoughts about Berwald flooded my mind, and I could not take it anymore. I was seeing red now. I walked up to the machine that was aiding in his will of life. I looked at the machine then at his face. He seemed to be in a deep slumber. My hand moved to the wires connecting to his IV. Looking at the saline that filled the bag, I couldn't help it. I quickly ripped a small opening at the top of the bag and inserted a concoction I have brewed up at home. My own kind of poison as you will.

Once that was done, I looked back at Berwald. My eyes were dry of tears. I leaned close and placed a small kiss on his lips.

"Goodbye," I whispered.

I walked out of that room, not looking back on what I had done. Time seemed to slow at that moment. I was far enough away to see nurses and doctors rushing in to the room. They didn't take any notice of me.

Why would they?

I was just someone they needed to make sure is not disappointed.

I was the moment they took him in.

My story? It wasn't a love story. It was a story of my suffering, and how I ended that suffering.

  I will never fall  

-----