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hi! so.. me sharing.idea 2 of 2 I had? lol
I wish that I could take the 'ideas' I'm not certain about and put them somewhere separately. lol. Perhaps I should just make a 2022 list? Cause some of these ideas I don't think I'm going to write. I've mentioned before that I have a total of three anthologies planned lol. So it makes sense to have so many 'ideas' lol. I haven't commit to all of them.. and there are ones that I have expressed interest in writing hehe. I don't want y'all to get overwhelmed lol.
anywhoo, here is the second idea that I mentioned that I had come up with... something unique (I feel) and something I've never written about before.
set to be started sometime next year hopefully
a story idea of a Japanese soldier falling in love with an African American Jazz singer in late 1930s-1940s shanghai.
He struggles between his duty and obligation to his country and the desire to love her.
matsuda ichiro was raised in Kurashiki, prefecture okayama. (near hiroshima) His father died in the first sino japanese war. His mother and grandmother remain. He wants to make the memory of his father proud and happily enlists into the army when the second world war starts. The journey leads him to be stationed at a base in shanghai. There he comes to meet beatrice jones one night, she being a frequent performer to entertain the troops. First listen first sight...he in immediately smitten.
set in 1943.
Their romance starts as a slow burn. They are both hesitant and unsure of their attraction to each other but eventually they come to accept it. Things take a disastrous turn as the city's chinese population are rounded up and put into concentration camps. She is taken along with her family and is put into one just as he is shipped out to fight in the battle of bairoko. When he returns two years later in 1945, he has become war hardened and cold.
Kudo Kosei as Matsuda Ichiro (24)
Halle Bailey as Beatrice Jones (20)
The sounds of jazz filled the small club and the sweet smell of cigar smoke created a thick white fog. The musicians played on, lost in the moment it seemed. Eyes took in the surroundings and he swallowed thickly. He’d never been to a place like this before but at the request of his comrade Takahashi had decided to check it out. The music was foreign yet strangely comforting. It seemed to electrify him from the inside out and set his very blood on fire. Heading to the bar, he removed his uniform hat and ordered a Russian vodka in clipped nervous English. Another suggestion from his good ole buddy Takahashi. Lifting the drink to his nose. Straight alcohol. No hints of anything else. So deceiving it appeared as smooth and clear as water. Almost like sake with a much more pungent smell.
“Ladies and Gentleman, give a warm welcome to our next performer. She’s a modest little thing but can sing like a canary. Miss Beatrice Jones!” Feeling the heat from the drink slip into his blood stream, he turned as a woman stepped out on stage. Lifting the glass to his mouth he took another sip. As she turned towards the crowd and gave a soft smile, he choked feeling the burn of it brutally set his throat on fire. Coughing, he swallowed the pain and burn.
“My name is Beatrice. I was born in the States but I’ve lived here in Shanghai for the last ten years. If you don’t mind, I’d like to share a bit of home with you.” Her Mandarin was delicately favored with the Wu accent. He took another sip, eyes focused on her in her entirety. A soft piano began to play. The lights from above shined on golden brown skin. Like coffee that had cream in it, it was a rich tawny color.
“It’s not the pale moon that excites me, that thrills and delights me. Oh no… it’s just the nearness of you…” Small shapely lips smiled as a horn accompanied the piano.
“It isn’t your sweet conversation that brings this sensation. Oh no….it’s just the nearness of you…” Her face was small and heart shaped, her nose a delicate button. Enticing almond shaped eyes. She was petite both in frame and height yet an undeniable femininity caressed her. Seemed to invoke slow careful breaths from him…from every man there. Modestly dressed in a tasteful yet form fitting dress, long beige sleeves covered her arms and square shoulders shaped her own.
Outlining her slender waist and hips, the smallest peek of her slim dainty legs seemed to tease. A plucked feather served as the singular decoration on her, plush and elegant. Her hair was uncovered, pulled away from her face in large tucked pin curls. She began to sway side to side as the vibrations took hold of her… of them all. She closed her eyes and allowed the music to move her, a sweet soulful voice filling the room with crystal clear melody. Completely enraptured, he couldn’t move or breathe for that matter until she had finished her song roaring applause accompanying her departure from the stage.
“You alright?” A sharp clap to his back jolted him and he tore his eyes away from the ethereal beauty of the woman. Lifting a hand to his neck, he cleared his throat.
“Yes. Ah…” The man smirked and nodded his head back towards the stage.
“She’s a beautiful girl huh?” He didn’t answer. Both men were quiet as the band began to play a slow calm tune.
“First time here?” He ordered a gin and tonic, tightening his jaw at the grinning man. The man somehow irritated him though he was a stranger. He reminded him of Takahashi.
“Yes. It will be my last time here.” The man laughed suddenly, a barking gruff laugh signaling the use of a long term smoking habit.
“If you’re worried about finding that woman attractive don’t. In here those matters melt away with the music.” Clenching his jaw, he slid annoyed eyes towards the man and made quick work of his drink. Reaching into his pockets, he paid the tab and stood.
“I’m not attracted to her.” That damn grin remained on the man’s face as he watched him grab his coat and hat.
“They all say that at first. Somehow they manage to always find themselves here searching for the ones they said they didn’t want. Soldier or civilian. Japanese or Chinese. It doesn’t matter. Beauty is beauty and it was meant to be appreciated.” He slipped into his coat and placed his cap upon his head. With a stiff bow of the head, he made his exit from the cosy atmosphere of the lounge. And try as he might he couldn’t stop himself from hearing the sweet soft melody of her voice in his mind as he made it back to his barracks.
By now she should have gotten used to the smell. But then she gathered that she never would be able to get the smell of death out of her nose even if she dug her own fingers into her nostrils.
“Halt!” The voice of the one the women nicknamed the devil of Mukden. Immediately, some of the women began to shake, their eyes wide with fear. She bit the inside of her cheek as the commander entered the women’s barracks. Her heart began to beat wildly in her chest. Seedy eyes drifted across the still flies, faces ranging in color and size. How lucky was he to be in the midst of such fortune. So many different body shapes. Textures of hair, lengths and limb height. Licking his teeth, he smirked as his eyes came across one. She curiously didn’t tremble or shake. Interesting. She was short and small. Malnutrition hallowed her cheeks and eyes. What healthy curve there used to be had started to be chipped away. And yet it didn’t diminish her beauty. In fact, it intrigued him even more. Smooth honey colored skin. Lips plump. Cracked. But indeed very bite able. Especially that bottom one. Her hair was in its wild primitive state, frazzled untamed curls pulled back with a piece of cloth. His feet led him past the other rats, insignificant. Standing directly in front of her, he grinned as he watched the muscle in her jaw tighten.
“What is your name?” He asked in smooth silky Japanese. By now she knew enough of it to understand minor questions and hold small conversations; what with it being force fed down her throat.
“Do you care what my name is?” She replied, keeping her eyes level with his chest. Laughing, he sneered, lips quirked up at the ends like a cheshire.
“This place hasn’t completely gotten rid of your defiance.” He lifted a finger and lifted her chin upward, bringing her gaze to his.
“Since you won’t give me your name I will name you.” After a short while, he spoke again.
“Dog.” Her eyes grew hard and he now gripped her chin.
“If I didn’t have enough on my plate, I’d have fun with you.” Letting her go, he took one step back from her and eyed her from head to toe.
“I know just where to send you.…little impassioned puppy. Someplace where the defiance and rebellion will be squeezed out of you until you’re nothing but a broken little shell.” Grabbing her arm, he began to drag her towards the door, ignoring her sudden screams and protests.
“Ianfu.” Two men took her from him and took her kicking and screaming out of the barracks into a separate building. Full of men, they watched as they shoved her down on the ground.
“Ah, a new one?”
“Has she been broken in?”
“She’s different. Not like the other ones.” Grabbing her by her hair, the man knelt down and pressed his lips against her ear.
“As of today, you will serve the great country of Japan as a public toilet until the day you die.” Letting her go, he stood.
“Has Matsuda returned yet?”
“Mm. He’s just getting off the deployment truck.”
“Takahata wants her to go to him.”
“Hey, that’s not fair!”
“As newly promoted officer it is. You have no say Seiki. Have fun with the others. This one goes to him.” The thousand of eyes it seemed that stared at her, slipping like fingers underneath her clothes. Tongues that licked lips, barely controlled lust in narrow eyes. Teeth grinned, like cats. Like animals.
“Ah, Matsuda.” She kept her head down, not enough gumption to face the eyes.
“The commander has gifted you with a promotion treat.”
“That is?” The voice of the man was cold and hard… unemotional and unfeeling.
“Your own war bride. Just until we win the war.”
“Take her to my quarters.” Hands grabbed her and she began to scream again as they took her off again, deeper and deeper into the pit of hell it seemed until they shoved her into a tent. Spacious, private. The sound of boots entering made her freeze and she balled up her fists. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what was going on. She’d heard stories. She’d seen women die because of it…of this. The thought of it made her sick to her stomach.
Young girls…some barely thirteen or fourteen years of age… beaten…raped repeatedly…sometimes thirty times a day…thirty different men… till their insides ripped apart and their outsides swelled and bruised so much the pain became unbearable. Then and only then did she begin to tremble, tears welling up in her eyes. She….she’d kill herself before she let that happen to her. She’d rather die than live a life of torture to that magnitude.
“Do you speak English?” The startling deepness of the male voice sent chills down her spine. Swallowing, she gave a nod.
“Do you know why you’re here?”
“To die.” The boots grew closer until they stopped right in front of her. The man knelt down. He had long legs.
“Where are you from?”
“Does it matter?”
“It doesn’t no. Nor do I really care.” The harshness of his words cut into her.
“Look at me.”
“I won’t ask again.” ‘Or what?’ almost slipped out but she bit her tongue to quiet herself. Slowly, she lifted her head. At once, he grew slack, mouth open and eyes wide. Likewise, the man she envisioned was not who knelt before her. Not a stranger. Not a brute hungry pig eager to make her human flesh his meal.
“B-Beatrice?” Eyes filling with tears, she clenched her jaw.
“How the hell did you end up he-”
“I thought you didn’t care.” She shot back smoothly, watery eyes growing indignant. It was his turn to tighten his jaw and he didn’t say another word as he stood. She watched as he sat down at his newly provided desk and bent over to unlace his boots.
“I’ll fight you until I draw my last breath.”
“No harm will come to you.” He answered, tone hard and flinching.
“I don’t believe you.” He chose not to answer, standing up to unbutton his uniform jacket. Placing it over the back of his chair, he quietly grabbed a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and slipped it into his mouth. Lifting eyes briefly to settle on her, he dropped them once more as he struck a match, the light from the fire burning up the paper and tobacco.
“If I wanted to, I could strip you right now and take you as many times as I wanted. The chances of you succeeding in fighting me are very slim.”
“I didn’t say I had to win. I just said I would fight. Winning doesn’t matter.”
“Neither does dying apparently.” She silenced herself as he blew out a long trail of misty white smoke.
“If you refuse to stay here, I could always trade you to one of the other men vying for you.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“I wouldn’t?” Knowing better than to call his bluff, she drew her fingers up into fists, digging the nails into her palms.
“You’re different than the last time I saw you…” She said quietly, letting her eyes drift across him. Indeed, it seemed the youth had been sucked out of his face and in its place was a hardness. A coldness.
“I’m sure we both didn’t expect to meet again this way. Or at all.” He replied, taking another inhale of his nicotine.
“And here we are.” She wasn’t sure she could call the slightest quirk movement of his lip upward as a smirk but just as quickly as she’d seen it it was gone.
“You might not like it but here is the safest place you could be. If I were you, I would take advantage of it.” Snuffing out his cigarette he sighed and began to unbutton his shirt forcing her eyes downward. Though she hated to admit it… he was right. He was a man of his word and his sense of honor and integrity was still so sharp. He wouldn’t harm her.
“You will be at my side should I leave the quarters. We will share baths. And should I be deployed, you will not be allowed to leave this place until I return.”
“Sounds like slavery.”
“Call it what you want. But I call it survival.” Turning to face her, he lifted his shirt up and over his head.
“I’ll take you to get some food after I clean up.” She bit her lip, damning her eyes as they slipped down his exposed chest and midsection. There was once a time when the very sight of him like this was only a dream…a fantasy in her mind. He went to go stand at a small face bowl and she licked her lips. They weren’t smitten strangers anymore. The moment of brief but intense love born to a night of jazz and sweet soft kisses had long since passed. Now, who stood before her was a callous calculated murderer and she a newly appointed sex slave by force. It would be in their best interest to play the cards right. It would be in their best interest to use each other up in order to survive the game.
A/N: Thoughts? Comments? Concerns?