Why are You Risking Your Life Every Single Day?

The air is cold, biting at my skin as I stand there in front of the snow-covered building, my trunk at my side, and all of them standing in front of me—people I've come to know, come to care about, and now, I have to leave them. The pale dawn light casts long shadows on the snow, and everything feels frozen, not just the world around me but the moment, like time is holding its breath.

"Bye, Hannah."

"Goodbye, we'll miss you."

"It was so lovely having you around."

Their voices are soft but full of warmth, and I can hear the sincerity in their words. The words I never quite knew how to accept, but now, standing in front of them, I feel the weight of every one of them. The people I've come to depend on, the ones who've made me feel like I belonged, even if just for a while.

I bow slightly, my hands wrapped around my trunk, my chest tight with the effort of holding myself together. My eyes dart around each of them—Angela, who's been like a sister, a true friend—who's made this farewell feel more like a journey than a goodbye. And then, I find him.

June.

Standing there like always, quiet, his gaze deep and shadowed, like he's hiding something. Maybe a secret or a pain I can't quite place. His eyes lock onto mine, and I feel that familiar pull in my chest. It's a magnet, this connection between us. And as I lift my head from my bow, his eyes meet mine again, lingering just for a moment too long.

I nod, polite, just like I've been taught. But deep down, I feel it—something unspoken, something unfinished. He smiles, but it's a smile so faint, I wonder if I imagined it. Still, it speaks volumes. I've learned that about him in these few months. He's always so subtle. Always hiding what he really feels behind that calm façade. A smile so small, yet it holds everything.

"I'll take Hannah to the port now," Angela says, her voice warm, pulling me from my thoughts as she wraps her arm around mine, guiding me forward. I nod in agreement, turning to take one last look at the people who have been my family, my support, my lifeline.

One by one, they start to leave, to drift back into the warmth of the building, their faces fading into the distance. I feel a lump in my throat, and I fight it back. It's just the cold. Just the winter.

But then, I stop. I turn around. And there he is—June—standing there, just inside the door.

His eyes find mine again, just as the last few stragglers disappear inside. It's like the world slows, like everything stops, and all that remains is him and me. A final moment, just the two of us.

I nod to him, one last time. A quiet, almost imperceptible movement. It's a farewell, a wordless exchange, but it means everything. I turn back to Angela, who's already stepping ahead, and I follow her, the weight of the snow beneath my boots growing heavier with each step.

And just like that, June is gone. Back inside. And it hurts. God, it hurts.

I should feel free. I'm leaving, after all. I'm going to find my family. I'm going to Costan, a city that promises safety and maybe hope. But there's a part of me that will always stay here, with them. With him.

I feel the sting of it in my chest, that longing, that feeling of something incomplete. June... He's never said it, never spoken the words that could make this hurt less. He's never said anything about how he feels. Maybe he doesn't even know. Maybe it's just me, imagining things, creating a connection that isn't there. But I know. I feel it in the way his eyes linger. In the way he smiles. In the way he looks at me as if there's something more he wants to say.

But he's gone. And I'm leaving. And we're both just pretending we don't feel it.

I keep walking, every step into the snow feeling heavier than the last, my heart sinking with each footprint. The ache in my chest refuses to fade. And I know it won't. Not for a long time.

It's like I'm walking away from a part of me. A part I don't know if I'll ever get back.

This is goodbye.

And somehow, it hurts more than I ever expected.

We soon arrive at the port, where the first light of dawn paints the sea in shades of silver and rose. The harbor is already bustling—sailors shout over the clatter of crates, merchants haul carts of cargo, and travelers move with purpose, wrapped in heavy cloaks against the morning chill.

"Angela," I say softly, turning to her as the wind tugs at her dark braid. "I'll always thank you."

She meets my gaze with a quiet smile that doesn't reach her eyes. We both know this is goodbye—for now, or maybe forever. She can't linger long. A soldier could pass by any moment, and even a fleeting glimpse might be enough to expose her.

"All right," she says, her voice low but steady. "Have a safe journey to Costan. I hope you really do find your family there."

"I will. Thank you—for everything."

Angela steps forward and embraces me, her arms warm and steady, like the last bit of home I have left. It's a soft, wordless hug, full of unspoken prayers and the weight of memories shared in too short a time.

Then we part.

She waves once, a small flutter of her hand, and disappears into the crowd, swallowed by the city like a shadow at sunrise.

I remain still for a moment, rooted in place, watching the empty space where she stood. Then, with a breath, I turn and find a small wooden bench near the waiting lines for the ships. The boards creak as I sit, and I fold my hands in my lap, heart steadying against the nerves rising in my chest.

Fifteen minutes left until boarding.

I bow my head and close my eyes.

Silently, I pray.

I pray for a safe passage to Costan. That my forged ID will be enough to get me through the gates. That no soldier will recognize me from my last mission. That the face I wear today is not one burned into a wanted poster. I pray for mercy. For invisibility.

And then, like a gust of cold wind through my gut, I remember.

The ID.

My eyes snap open. My hands grope at my pockets.

Nothing.

I forgot it.

Oh no… No, no, no—

I shoot to my feet, heart pounding so loudly it drowns out the chatter of the docks. Panic rushes up my throat. Without the ID, I'm not just stranded—I'm exposed. A sitting target. There's no way I'll make it past inspection, let alone onto the ship.

I stand there frozen, mind racing.

Then, a tap on my shoulder.

I whirl around.

"June?" I breathe.

He stands before me, wind-tousled hair falling into his eyes, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips—as calm and collected as ever.

Without a word, he extends a small leather pouch to me.

I take it with trembling fingers, crack it open—and there it is.

My ID.

"Thank you," I blurt, half in disbelief.

"You left it in the dining hall," he says casually. "Probably after your early breakfast."

"Right… I must've…" I stammer. "I wasn't thinking."

He stands in front of me, the crowd still moving all around us—but in my eyes, everything fades into a blur. His prominent, deep-set eyes anchor me. The sharp lines of his jaw, the calm strength in his broad shoulders, the way his tousled hair dances in the sea breeze—it's all in vivid, living color. And the rest of the world? It's a mere silhouette. Shadows of people walking past, voices dissolving into background noise.

For this moment, here at this crowded port, it feels like it's just the two of us.

June gives me a gentle smile, a glint of teasing in his eyes. 

"Don't leave things around, Hannah."

I manage a small smile back, my heart thudding a little too loud in my chest. 

"Right. I won't."

Before I can say more, a voice echoes over the harbor from a speaker somewhere above.

"The ship to Costan will begin boarding shortly."

The words cut through the moment like a blade, reminding us of time, of duty, of the world waiting beyond this fragile space.

We both hear it.

June shifts slightly, then looks at me with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "You should go now… Have a safe journey. I hope you find your family."

My throat tightens. I nod slowly. 

"Thank you… for, you know… for really a lot of things."

He dips his head, the corners of his lips twitching in acknowledgment.

But I can see it.

Something in his expression. The way he holds his breath for a second too long. The way his eyes flicker. He's holding something back.

There's more he wants to say—but he won't.

So I take a step closer, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from him despite the sea wind.

"June," I say, my voice quieter now. "Can I ask you something before I go?"

His eyes waver slightly, but he nods. 

"Yes."

I hesitate, the words catching on the edge of my lips. 

"Why are you…" I swallow. "Why are you risking your life every single day? Why fight in this mission to save others in a war like this? Aren't you… afraid of losing your own life?"