Solider

Zhou didn’t want this to be how he died, face down in the mud, shells exploding above his head. His dream was always to die an old man, in bed, a couple of young women above him. But right now, he’d take a bowl of soup and a game of Go.

There was some shouting to his left, something about making a charge, then a shell hit and the yelling devolved into pained screaming. Zhou mentally checked out at that point, and let his training kick in until the inevitable painful death.

Been fifteen years now, still mentally checked out…