He didn't want to go home.
Not yet.
The air outside the base was colder than he remembered, but the scent was familiar: pine, dust, perfume from the waiting crowd. It hit like a wave, a reminder that the world had kept moving while he was gone.
Taehyung stood beside Namjoon, a bouquet of white camellias clutched loosely in his hand, a gift from a fan, he was told. They felt stiff. Empty. A prop for the stage he'd just stepped back onto.
Namjoon lifted the trumpet or was it a saxophone this time? - and played a few jazzy notes that made some of the soldiers around them laugh. The fans screamed louder, the sound crashing like a tide, phones flashing like stars. The lightsticks made the crowd look like a galaxy.
He smiled. He waved.
He tried.
Then, through the lens of noise and color, he saw her.
She wasn't screaming. She wasn't crying.
She didn't even hold her phone up. Just a lightstick, gently swaying.
She clapped politely. Warm, calm. Real.
And on her head, that ridiculous, adorable Stitch hairband.
The little plush swung side to side with every clap.
Blue ears bouncing, like it was dancing just for him.
Something inside him paused.
Taehyung tilted his head. Squinted. Watched her.
She smiled.
Not giddy, not fan-crazed. Just gentle.
Then, she raised her hands and signed something he hadn't seen since boot camp.
"Welcome back, V."
His chest tightened.
Before he could stop himself, his hand lifted again, not to the whole crowd, but to her. Just her. A quiet wave. A flicker of something new.
She bowed, as if saying goodbye before they'd even begun.