Author's note: Hello! This was written last year, actually. I've decided to post it now. Anyway, Coming Home is a collaboration work of theheroineinprogress and me. This is Alfred's POV. I hope y'all enjoy!

She was coming back home.

And it wasn't a dream anymore. I could finally see her again after those long, dreaded years. I was sitting on the chair out in the front porch, fingers drumming impatiently on the wooden bars. My eyes continued to flicker every now and then to the corner, waiting for her. She was a stubborn but lovable woman with a pale complexion, though I've already grown to see her cheeks often dusted in a rosy blush. Her long, flowing hair is a unique color of blonde; a silvery, light shade. Her eyes were rimmed with thick, long lashes and hiding beneath them were deep, lustrous lilacs. At times, they seem very grave and blank, but they're actually beautiful when mixed with her emotions. Her lips are always embellished with her favorite cherry chapstick. When graced with her ever rare smile, it lights up her whole face and stuns me.

She's just that beautiful.

The summer breeze blew by; the fallen leaves drifting freely with the lilt. The whole neighborhood seemed quiet and peaceful, but I was far from it. Like a little kid waiting for his birthday present, I was ready to get fly off my seat, throw my arms around her and squeeze her in a big bear hug. Minutes were so long that they seemed like hours to me.

I think I won't be able to let go of her once I get to embrace her.

Two years… and a half, that's... a long time. God knows how I missed her, how I anticipated that this day would come and how I'd wish every day would be paid off by this stressful patience. The long wait was over now. I knew I looked like a complete doofus for smiling stupidly at nothing with giddy, eager eyes. But what can I do? I was happy. Happy after months of loneliness in this damned house. Finally happy after those months of despair, counting the days until the date she promised to come back. Happy that I could finally see if my dream could be a reality.

I had the same dream every night. Fine weather, quiet neighborhood, and me still wearing my Superman printed pajamas as I wait out here, just how it is today. Coffee on the table, birds perched on top of the wooden beams of the porch. Natalya would come by around the corner after a minute or so, wearing that smile—her rare and sincere smile— and she would run into my arms happily.

Ah, damn dreams. Every time I'd wake up, I would feel bad that it hasn't happened. But today, it definitely will.

Snap out of it, Jones. Natalya might be coming soon, and you might not notice it. Okay, I have to flash my best smile ever. I'll give her a warm welcome, hug her so tightly as I've planned, take her bags in the house, and show off our bedroom which I cleaned everyday just in case she comes back home. No speck of dirt at all, sheets and clothes neatly folded and everything was in array. I even grew a small field of sunflowers in the backyard for her. She loved those flowers—like her brother. She always wished for them, and I finally made it true. I hope she'll like them.

I picked up my mug, and took a sip from it as I drifted off to my overly-dramatic imagination. The steam fogged my glasses, and I laughed. I was too much in a good mood.

The faint engine of a car woke me, making me almost drop my mug. I had a hard time hearing now, so maybe the car was extremely near now. The revving noise stirred the birds resting by the nearby trees, and it roused my hopes as well. A wave of greater excitement and uneasiness surged in my veins as each second ticked by.

Immediately, I set my mug on the table and headed to the small steps, looking out and waiting for it to drive to the corner of the street.

Within ten seconds flat, an all too familiar Rolls-Royce turned up the street, and I felt my chest constrict. It was such a heavy feeling—the moment it appeared, you could feel the weight of the earth on your head, and it keeps nailing you to the ground. I was drowning in the pool of my elusive, deep emotions, and I struggled to get out. Pain took over the excitement as I froze in my place, the vehicle stopping at the front porch just a few feet away from me.

The world came to a halt when a woman with silvery blonde hair stepped out of the car, violet eyes scanning the sunny area. Her face was still as delicate and angelic but donned that usual rigid expression of hers—nothing new. Navy blue dress with a black and white striped ribbon affixed on her waist, black stockings and a pair of black leather shoes, it was her signature. She moved with elegance as her eyes wandered around the place, until her pair found my eager blue irises.

She took slow steps towards me. And I, the complete idiot, was still overwhelmed.

"Natalya…" I croaked out. "Nat!"

I excitedly ran to her, and my arms spontaneously wrapped her frame. Her warmth, her touch, her sweet scent, God knows how I missed everything about her. I was so close to crying. For the first time in a long while, I knew what happiness was again.

"I missed you so much." I exhaled almost breathlessly, securing her in a tighter embrace.

"Yeah." Her quiet voice answered.

Why…

Why are you like this, Natalya?

"I love you, Nat." I pressed. My eyes were shut closed, my chest hurt from the piercing pain. In the limited time I have, how much more can I still hold her like this?

She didn't answer. And it made me nervous. Nonetheless, I forced that smile on my face just to show her I was still the same guy she loved. I was still waiting for her. I still loved her, and I was willing to go through with anything.

I could feel her force herself out of my arms, quietly making her way in the house. I let out a deep sigh, not wanting to open my eyes. I had to calm myself.

The summer breeze slowly faded as I entered the house, trailing after her.

Her expression never changed.

From the time she stepped out of the damned car to here, her face was blank. Cold. Rigid. Simply emotionless. I couldn't predict what she was feeling. Her violet hues were gravely staring at the furniture as she walked passed them, her fingers trailing on the smooth wooden surface of the walls.

Can you see that every piece of furniture in this house is imprinted with heart-warming memories? Our memories? Can you hear the silent echoes of our laughter and whispers in every nook and corner of this place? Can you tell the story of each picture frame hanging on the wall?

Because I remember everything, even from the smallest detail.

From the kitchen to the living room to the bedroom to the then barren garden, we built memories. My missing burger patties which I end up finding in my cat's bowl. The empty pizza boxes that you always ask me to throw out every weekend. The old couch we used to sit on every Friday night to watch horror movies together, or tickle each other because we were bored. The paint of the living room walls which we argued about because I lacked taste in choosing color and in the end, you got the color you wanted.

I knew how sweet your laughter was. I knew how warm you are, I knew how much you loved and wanted the sunshine. I knew that Natalya Arlovskaya was a beautiful person. I knew you loved me too.

It hurts because she's as distant as those memories. They're there- she's here, but you can't reach them.

I was walking after Natalya, my hands shoved in the pockets of my pajamas as I watched her stroll in our bedroom. My smile remained on my face—but I didn't know how I looked like. Maybe I was a good actor and put up a completely happy expression. Maybe I was trying too hard and I ended up looking too desperate and a complete mess after all. I knew. I knew how much of a mess I was after these months.

She closed the door behind her, and I was reluctant to open it—afraid, to be more precise. But maybe she was going to sleep. Or maybe change clothes to a more comfortable one. She was going to stay; I wanted to believe that. I always did believe that.

I was still holding on to that one last ray of hope.

"Nat…?"

The closet doors were open. Natalya was quietly picking out the last of what was left in her wardrobe. On the bed were two empty bags surrounded by her clothes.

No, my eyes are probably just playing tricks on me. She's not packing her stuff. She came home. She came home… Please. Oh God. Please tell me this wasn't the reason why she came back here. Please tell me she was going to stay.

I've always loved you; I've always made you happy with the best of my efforts. Wasn't it good enough? Wasn't I good enough?

Consequences… Was this it? The penalties of the life I chose?

A soldier who's left home for long, difficult months, fighting and training out in the sun, with guns and grenades as our comrades—a pawn of the state, I was.

And the same useless soldier who was unable to take care of her, who was stupid enough to have kept her waiting for so long—too long, that maybe… She's finally grown tired of waiting.

I wondered if she counted the days like I did when I waited for her to come home. I wondered if she was close to losing hope during those times. I wondered if she ever regretted being with me.

In this room, I could feel the ghost of the past lingering.

I could imagine her in this very room years ago, curled up on bed, holding my letters and staring out at the window with a single tear streaming down on her pale cheek; her lips dry and trembling, her hands cold and empty with nothing to hold on to except those damned letters.

How did I bear to let her be like that?

Was I that cruel?

Before I left, we were so happy… Nothing else would come in between. We planned our wedding a month after the war, said that we'd have a dozen of kids, grow old together and have a huge field of sunflowers. We dreamt together a future with bright hopes. We held on to our dreams of a happy ending.

I wonder when she decided to give up. All our dreams, hopes and cherished future have been plagued by the growing obscurity and darkness in our relationship. The sun was soon setting in our lives, and when it had turned dark, the sun never got to show up again.

I can't blame her for what happened. I was gone for too long and I couldn't be there for her when she needed me. She was stuck with that disorder and her emotional needs were crucial, but I had chosen the other path, promising everything will be okay once I come back. I wrote a letter every week to keep reminding her that I'll come home soon.

I promised her that we'll be happy again. And all I needed for her to do is to wait for me to come back. Six months, that was all.

But then, the war started.

After six months of training, I was so eager to go home, but the war… It was there already, and we got deployed immediately. Our unit was badly needed for the army, and so going home wasn't an option at all. We were surrounded by guns, bombs, grenades and explosions—we were in the gates of hell, where danger was lurking, waiting for us in every step that we made.

I couldn't write to her during those times. I didn't even have a minute to think twice about my decisions in battle. I was a soldier- a pawn of the country's defenses to fend off chaos and bring order, and I was supposed to be committed to what I was doing. Death was everywhere in the war, and I tried my best to keep myself alive so I could fulfil my promise that I will come home to her. The last letter I wrote—but wasn't able to send, had my apology for the inevitable chaos I was going to dive in.

I could only promise to be alive after that… and I could only pray that she was well, despite my long absence. Well, here I am—alive after all that happened, though I can hardly hear with my left ear. War does that to you, I've had comrades lose their limbs and even their sanity.

But to be alive… and come back to nothing… It is more painful than to lose an arm.

Six months, plus a year and half was painful for someone like her. It was my job to stay, but I had to choose what I thought was right.

I was too late… Is that it, Natalya?

She wasn't supposed to be left on her own. But I was too stupid to realize that right away. My letters stopped when the war came, and she must've been left in hopelessness. I should've known. She was fragile and vulnerable, and even the slightest touch would have to be gentle in regards to her emotions. And there were two people who knew how to handle her in the best way possible—me and him.

And with the war that separated us for what seemed like an eternity, it was automatic that he was to take care of her.

I came home that rainy day after two years; overwhelmed that everything was over—the training, the war and the prospect of death. I could finally see her and we could do all the things we want again, just like before.

But the house was empty that day.

The memories are still so clear.

I was so shocked that I couldn't find her anywhere, close to panicking when a letter was sticking out of the bedside drawer. At first, I thought it was a hostage kind of situation, but it was Natalya's own handwriting.

The letter was written just a week before I came home.

I wanted to believe she was forced to write this horrible piece of shit, saying that she left the house because she couldn't take it anymore. Depression was eating her alive and no one was there to help her. She was going to stay with him—the only one who she has left, and told me not to look for her unless I'd want her to hate me more. She said to not contact her in any forms as well.

'I'll come home after six months.'

The unsent letter- yes, the one I was never given a chance to send during the war, seemed to have become heavier in my pocket.

I waited every day with the hopes of those six months to come to an end.

Would she want to start over again? Or was she content with him already?

He was… far better than I was. And he gave her everything that she needed; everything I couldn't give her but should have. And I hated that fact—I fucking hated myself.

I failed miserably. I lost her in those two years, but I still wanted to believe her promise. She was going to come home and stay. I told myself those words every day, and I still believe what chances can do for us.

I was living an illusion.

I'm the same idiot for years.

"Alfred."

She called my name. My hand dropped from holding on to the door knob, and I took unsure steps towards her. I forced another smile on my face. "I see… Y-You've packed your clothes, huh… B-But what for?"

Immediately, she looked away from me. Her expression was still cold and grave, and her lips barely moved as she replied, "Stop it."

"Oh come on," I laughed humorlessly, shaking my head. "Are we going on a vacation? Let me just pack my stuff too."

"Alfred. Stop this. You should know by now that I've already grown tired within the past months."

I felt my smile collapse into dejection, now unable to keep up my façade. Slowly, reality was forcing its way to my illusions. I wanted to believe that she came back home for me. For us. For the future we wanted for so long.

I was the idiot who refused to see the truth in front of me. But I'm too stubborn, and I fucking hated this truth. I will never want to wake up from my illusions.

Because once I do, I don't know how I'll even manage.

"But I waited for six months, just like you said…" I croaked out.

She clicked her tongue. Her violet irises narrowed at me, filled with pain and resentment. "What about me, Alfred? I waited for two damn years for you."

I could hear her forgotten cries and longings in this room. Her wistful sighs and unsteady breathing were coming to haunt me. This woman in front of me was bringing them to life, and the world was pressing itself against me again.

"First six months, I was okay. I tried to cope up and depended on your letters. But then, it happened… The war. The damned war." She spat each word with bitterness. Her eyes welled up with pained tears at the corners, and it pierced my heart. "Every day, I prayed that you will come home to me, safe and sound. Every day, I wrote and sent you a letter. Every day… the monsters came for me. I began panicking for no reason; paranoia was killing me every damned day. I kept thinking you were dead! That soon enough, there would be a knock on the door with a letter and the next thing I'd know, I would just be standing before your grave! I was becoming unstable, and was there anyone to help me? Was it too much to assure or even remind me that you were still alive?! Seven hundred days of my waking moment where I would just live in terror without anyone to help me, Alfred! " Natalya shook her head stiffly, her eyes locked with my guilty pair.

I closed my eyes as she shot me the words that I refused to hear—the things I knew but I refused to face.

"Two years was coming to a close, and did you know I wanted to die? That's fucking right, Alfred! I wanted to kill myself because I was becoming a fucked up crazy woman and you weren't there to save me! No one… cared… about me when you left… And you were the last person I knew who would, but you weren't there! You think it was easy, being here all alone?! You think it differs to facing guns and grenades wherever the fuck you were after how many years?!" Natalya almost screamed, sending a weak punch to my chest.

My guilt.

My shame.

My regrets.

My world was in flames, and I was being drowned in that furnace of guilt and remorse. I had no escape.

"They were… everywhere… They wouldn't leave me alone… I-I had n-no where to run, no where to h-hide. I-I couldn't breathe. I tried to kill myself… more than I c-could even count. But the mere thought of you… returning was enough to keep me hanging no matter how much it hurt. I would sleep for weeks to neglect it, but then I will eventually wake up with the same pain and ache! No one understood - you were the only one who could, but where were you?! I wanted to burn this house down, but I can't! I can't because of you! I wanted to die to take the pain away, but you won't let me!"

I wanted to touch her. Hold her hand, caress her cheek and hug her again. I wanted to tell her more, I wanted her to stay here with me. But I was afraid to do all those right now, with the seeming anger and hatred she holds against me. With how her eyes looked at me with cold bitterness, with how she uttered each word with resentment.

My lips parted for something to say- probably the same reasons again, but they were all nothing but pathetic excuses which will never save us.

What's the use?

She sucked in air sharply, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. It took a long while before her voice broke the heavy silence again. "Y-you were fighting for your survival, Alfred… but I was desperate to take my life away… But then he saved me. And that's when I decided to leave this house. I needed time for myself, and I needed someone who'd actually care."

He did… save you.

And now, she found her future with someone else—with him. The only person aside from me who actually knew her, and was willing to save her from the monsters that haunted her. He was someone who can stay with her for always, who can understand her feelings and who can take care of her better.

He was the one who can do all the things I couldn't.

Was I really to be blamed for those years?

I loved you every day despite the growing distance… despite the passing, treacherous days. I was at that point where I had no choice. Left with no choice, no backing out with the situation I've been put into. And the worst part? In that battle, I was given only one decision— and that was to move forward and finish my job.

But I never liked any of it. Of anything that is happening now.

"I… didn't want it to happen. The war, Nat… And I couldn't write back to you… I couldn't come home…" I tried to explain, taking another step closer. A lump in my throat began to form, and my head began to hurt. "I'm sorry."

If I could… If I had the chance, I would've gone back home. And you know that.

It was quiet for a long while, and I waited for her reply. Her face was still rigid after what I said. She just stood there, hands limp on her sides and lilacs staring at my face. How much of a mess I was right now in front of her, I don't know. I didn't even know what I was feeling—my limbs were growing numb, my head whirling, my chest stinging...

Everything seemed so distant now. She was.

The rift worsened each day from that dreaded war, and now I could never reach her again. I feared that gap between us. It was a deep abyss between us and I could easily fall anytime when I'll try to reach her heart again. To try and warm her cold walls. But I'll fall into that dark void, be forever trapped in the truth that I'm too late and die in the flames of my shame.

What else was waiting for me?

What have I been waiting for all these months?

"I forgive you."

I blinked twice. "What…?"

"I said, I forgive you." She repeated, her features slightly softening. "I knew… How dreaded the war was. You were needed there, and decided to commit yourself to your mission as any good soldier would."

My last ray of hope.

I breathed heavily, still processing what was happening. My lips were still quivering. "Are… Are you staying here now? You're not gonna leave anymore?"

Natalya blankly stared at me. Her cherry lips were pursed into a thin line. "I didn't say anything like that. I've made my decision a long time ago." She pulled out a small, red velvet box from her pocket as she heaved a deep sigh. "Alfred."

I knew what it was, but I didn't want to take it. That was hers, and she was supposed to keep it. I shook my head in response, but she gritted her teeth and pushed the box to my chest. "Just… take it already."

My hands were trembling as they fumbled open the small box. The glimmer of the diamond stone on the golden ring, and that's when I crumbled to tears.

"I'm sorry." Her quiet voice resounded.

No, Natalya…

I'm the one who should be sorry.

I'm sorry…

My knees felt weak. My whole body grew numb. The world was forcing itself down on me completely, and I was limp now. I couldn't run anymore, and soon, the fire was going to devour me.

Natalya walked past me and picked up the bags from the bed, slinging them over her shoulders and she started to head for the door. She paused by the doorway, but didn't turn around. "Thank you, though, for growing those sunflowers. They're beautiful."

Her light footsteps faded in the hallway, and I was left alone in the room, my soul breaking.

I don't want to let her go. I was born a fighter.

And even if the world was against me, even if it had beaten me down until I staggered…

I'll have to try…

Weakly, I rose to my feet and followed her. "Natalya…"

She was already outdoors when I reached her, setting her bags in the car's trunk. Natalya stared at me blankly as I stopped in front of her.

"What do you want?"

I wiped my tears away with the back of my hand. A weak laugh escaped my lips, but it was humorless. Insane—that's probably what I am now.

It was my turn to face those monsters.

A crazed, almost deaf man with nothing left except this small hope to get her back. I looked at her with warm affection until she tapped her foot impatiently on the cement and cocked a brow. "Alfred, what is it? You can't keep us waiting."

Clearing my throat, I shook my head and exhaled a sigh. A happy sigh, which was shortly followed by a small, meaningless chuckle. After all, I was Alfred F. Jones—the man she loved, and I'll prove to her that I still am the same person who liked to laugh and tease her even with the pettiest things. The man who liked to hold her hand, hug her and shower her generously with kisses.

One more try, one more try to act like everything's fine. Maybe she'll come back. I held her hands gently, giving them a tender squeeze. I slightly parted my lips and began, "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…"

"Alfred, stop."

"You make me happy, when skies are gray..."

"It's not working, Alfred." She shook her head. "It's never going to be the same ever again."

"You'll never know dear, how much I love you…"

I rummaged a hand in my pocket to take out the unsent letter, and I was ready to give it to her now before everything becomes too bleak. Maybe it could save us. The damned letter that I should've given her months ago. And the moment her eyes fell on the filthy, slightly burnt envelope, she shook her head.

"I'm sorry." Natalya slipped her hands from my hold, turning away and going around the car. I tagged along her, dragging my weak legs. She opened the passenger's door and muttered the last words I'll ever hear from her.

"I'm sorry, Alfred… But you're not the hero I need anymore. Good bye."

She quickly got in the car, and I stood there like the weak idiot I was. Smiling, but tears began to stream down again, and the pain seemed to be endless. "P-Please… don't take my sunshine away."

I screwed up big time...

The other door opened and slammed shut as quick, but I didn't take my eyes off Natalya, who sat inside the car and blankly stared at the road in front of her. Rigid and emotionless, her expression returned from how I saw her today.

I failed… I didn't the reach the other end. The rift was too much for me, and I ended up risking myself in the dark chasm. The flames of my remorse and guilt had taken its toll on me.

That was when he tapped my shoulder, and I turned around to meet him.

"It's time, Alfred." Arthur reminded me. He heaved a deep sigh, shaking his head. "I promise to take good care of her… Like I always have."

I couldn't utter a word at all. I was feeling so damned right now, and it wasn't helping that the man in front of me—my own brother, was talking to me. A rush of anger, hatred and jealousy surged in my veins, and my shaky hands gripped on his collar.

"It isn't fair that you're going to steal her away that easily while I was gone, you fucker!" I growled at him angrily, unable to keep myself from feeling violent. I know it was immature to act like this—because it wasn't entirely his fault. I was the one who left her hanging, and he was the nearest one who could save her.

Arthur grasped my hands strongly, his eyes narrowed at me with irritation. "It isn't fair for her to suffer when you left her." He replied in a stern tone. "I didn't steal her from you, Alfred. It… It just happened."

"That's fucking bullshit! Nothing just happens!" I snarled, gritting my teeth. "You were just supposed to do your job as her doctor! She didn't need to replace me! You didn't need to get her to fall in love with you!"

The anger evident on his features now. "Why you bloody—! If you really know Natalya, you should've known that she needs more than medication and company!" Arthur hissed back. "She needed someone, and where were you, great soldier? Nobody wanted this to happen, so don't put the blame on me! I did nothing but to do your job otherwise she would be..." He shook his head, unable to continue and pushing me off him. "You should be thanking me!"

Arthur left me standing alone as he got in back the car. The engine roared to life, rousing the whole neighborhood once more. I turned around to look with dead, misty blue eyes. It was over… The sun was never going to shine again in my world. And I'll be forever lost walking alone in the dark.

In a minute, they drove away from this lonely street, and I'll never see them again. I'll never have the chance to make it up for those lost months.

I lost the battle. The pawn had been taken away from the game. I don't know myself anymore. Who is this man kneeling on the empty street, crying like a little kid?

Where's that smile he used to have? The laugh which annoyed the hell out of people? The too enthusiastic attitude and impossible plans? Those bright blue eyes which always sparkled at the sound of adventures and heroes and freedom?

Who are you now, Alfred Jones?

How did you become so empty...?

The summer breeze was put to a halt, the lilting wind slowly dying as the leaves fell back to the earth.

And everything was quiet again.

"Jones! Quit dawdling and get your ass out here!"

"In a minute, sir!"

I don't even know if it's right to answer my superior like that right now. I didn't care, though. All I needed was to write this letter, and send it to her. Hopefully she'll understand why I couldn't come home for a while. And I hope she'll be fine…

I wasn't positive with that though.

The tip of the pen pressed too harshly on the crisp paper, the blank ink splotching the sheet. Somehow, I felt scared all of a sudden. Was it the fact I knew her vulnerability? I stared at the blank sheet for a while before heaving a sigh and began writing.

'Natalya, I couldn't be with you for months again. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being away for so long. All I could promise is to go home safe and sound. And when I come home, we won't wait for a month anymore- I'm marrying you right away! It's a pretty lousy proposal, isn't it? Sorry, I want to do something more romantic but you know how it is. It's been hard lately, with my latest injuries and all. A gunshot to the leg and at my right arm, but it's almost healed. My superiors are getting crankier every day, but I understand them. We're all stressed out that we've come into a very dangerous situation, and the chances of getting out alive were slim.

But don't worry! I'm Alfred the hero. I know we'll get through this. And we'll all go to our families one day. I'll be in your arms again, and we can do all the things we want.

Wait for me Natalya. I promise this will be the last time we'll ever be parted from each other. I love you.

Lovelots,

Alfred Jones, Your Hero

P.S. I want a burger party when I get home!'

I slipped in the scrawny paper in the envelope, and tossed it in one of the crates brimming with all sorts of letters. Addressed to their wives, children, parents, friends... Many of us knew that this might be our last, so today we had tons of them today. I smiled and followed my comrades who carried the crate outside the small tent. It was in the middle of the day, and darn was it scorching hot! We knew that we had limited time that hour, and any minute the opposing forces could attack us. They prepared their guns and positions, but I chose to write to her. It was more important than any other matter then.

The crate was tied to the helicopter that delivered it to the nearest postal office. I stared at the helicopter proudly as it set off into the sky.

But they fired.

Explosions. Guns. Bombs. Angry commands. Panic. Soldiers running and falling down. Blood.

It was so loud that there was this insane ringing in my left ear that didn't stop—it felt like a million screams piercing right through.

But… I couldn't believe it. Fragments of the plane and the crates scattered everywhere, and everyone around me were running to make the counter attack.

But I was glued to the spot, hands on my ears and looking up at the moment where my hope vanished. The letters fluttered everywhere; some were burning, some drifted by the wind and some were lucky to have landed nearby with minor inflictions. It took quite a while before I decided to look for mine in the heaps of letter sprawled on the deadly battlefield.

Fortunately, I did find it. Although it was burnt on one side. Dusting it off, I shoved the letter in my pocket and prepared to load my gun to join the mission.

Natalya, wherever you are right now, I hope you could still wait for me.