3 years. He had been gone for three. Whole. Years.

Tsukasa had joined the military, being drafted out, away from his only love.

Which was you.

However, when he came back, many people crowded the streets, awaiting relatives or loved ones to take the walk of pride down the road, to smile and hug them tight.

None of them got that pleasure. The march was quiet. Soldiers stoic and broken.

The entire crowd fell silent, gawking at the state of their beloved.

The only sound being the firm steps of the military, some injured, some missing limbs. Some not even being there.

As your eyes desperately scanned the crowd, you saw him. Tsukasa, marching down the road, his uniform torn and dirty, bloodstains littering his skin and hair.

His eyes now dull, not holding the warm love you had grown accustomed to.