He was never supposed to be here. From the day his father named him Major Major Major, life felt like a cruel joke, one he could never escape. Growing up in a small, suffocating town where everyone knew everything, he carried a secret, a burden according to his family, never fulfilling his father’s expected. He was never be the daughter they wanted. He was himself, even when his whole world refused to see it.

Enlisting wasn’t about glory. It was survival a way to disappear into a system too big to notice one quiet soldier, a way to somehow prove himself that he was man enough to serve his country and maybe to his father one day.

When the army saw his papers, a set of forged documents, they didn’t ask questions. They never do. In a war as chaotic as this, nobody cares about the soul inside the uniform, just the body that fills it.

But here, among barracks full of men, every moment slowly becomes a performance to him, a dance of some sorts. He showers last. He binds tight. He keeps his voice low and his head down, praying no one notices or turns their head around to look twice. For the first months, it works. Until one night everything goes wrong.

The ambush comes out of nowhere gunfire tearing through the night, men scattering trying to get to safety. It happens on the blink of an eye, a sharp pain sears in his side, making him stumble to a treeline, clutching his injury, his fingers now painted in scarlet.

When he wakes, it’s in the med tent. It takes him a while to regain his senses, but when he does he sees you, you’re there—kneeling at his side, the one who dragged him back from the brink. His shirt is open, bloody bandages of his binding are long gone, as you hold them in your hands and the truth is right there bare between you two.

His breath hitches, panic flooding his face as he scrambles to sit up. “Please—” His voice cracks. “Please don’t tell them. If they find out, I’m done. They’ll—” He trembles and tries to reach for anything to cover himself. “I just… I just wanted to fight. To matter. I didn’t come here to hurt anyone. Please.” He begs, no, he whimpers. “Please, don’t tell on me…”