I hate that I don't hate you (Boschlow fanfic)

★oneshot 2★

A/N: Set in the late 1700s, in central France as the Revolution is in full swing. Boscha plays the role of one of the King's newly enrolled soldiers, while Willow is among the revolutionist seeking to end the monarchy without anymore bloodshed. The two will cross paths in the midst of havoc, creating an unlikely bond that'll change their views upon what is right. I'm not trying to be all too historically accurate, just using this time period for inspiration.

       What seemed to be another warm summer day to be enjoyed out in time was completely far from what was happening. All around Paris revolts and mobs bustled about, tearing down anything that held the mark of tyranny. It was only days after the birth of the revolution, and now it has grown into a complete monster to the wide eyes of nobles. To the commoners however, it was beginning of something better for the future! Simultaneously the end was far from, but yet so close to a finish.

       And now, a young soldier is tasked with calming the crowd gathered upon the rubble of a torn down prison site. Even with another hundred of aid of the King's army to help the noise die down, the 3rd Estate's taste for revolt has sent them into a frenzy of violence. 

       Yet the ever so bold and confident Boscha does not turn tail and run, but faces the people head on with her bayonet in hand and disgust in her gaze. She had a job to do and urgent orders from the king, and mere upset citizens were not going to get in her way. Shoving her way through the front of the mob, she began her work by pushing them back from the area.

       All around screaming and shouting could be heard along with the occasional gunshot from the far side of the chaos. The angry faces of men and women blurred past Boscha in her effort to subdue a smaller crowd. When suddenly...

       THWACK!

"You royal scum!"

       Boscha jolted back as a chunk of stone made contact near her shoulder and quickly faced the direction it had come from. Before her stood a boy covered in dirt and a look of despise. Without a second thought she charged upon the child with a swift set of steps. The boy made an attempt to run, but instead fell back in his fit of panick being left to scramble away on all fours. The soldier was only a lunge away from hurting the child, with a quick motion of her arms, Boscha could easily put a rest to him. Would she really be okay with doing that? 

       There's no room for hesitation as a soldier though. So with her eyes shut tight, she was going to go in for the finishing blow...

"No! Stop!"

       She suddenly opened her eyes to the sound of a pleading woman now before her. The young lady stood protectively over the boy, sheltering him from the oncoming danger. "Spare him, please! He's just a child!" 

       Admist all the havoc, time seemed to stop in that instant. Boscha froze still before them in horror. The thought of what she was about to do sickened her. Ashamed, she turned away with a harsh gesture, "Go, this is no place for you!" The short-haired girl looked up at her with a grave look, yet with gratefulness mixed within those green eyes of hers. Quickly, she ushered the boy away from the mob. The conflicted soldier watched as they disappeared through the crowd, and once they were out of sight she went off to disperse the remaining people.

       However, the encounter left her nerves to be quite frantic, the growing frustration of the people wasn't exactly helping either. Soon enough, the cavalry were the ones being pushed back. Boscha was separated from her rank and the commoners swarmed around her. The bayonet was ripped from out her hands and all she could do was struggle against the mass of bodies. An attempt to retreat was made, but many hands dragged her back.