“How is he doing? Is he being nice today?” Glancing up, he felt his cheeks grow warm at the sight of Ms. Asami standing next to him. How hadn’t he heard her come in? Clearing his throat, his eyes drifted past the extensive trees on their property, some of them already starting to turn the colors of autumn. Quite early yet, as it was still summer. 

    “He’s being kinder today, yes. If that is even a thing.” Asami laughed and leaned against the balcony. 

    “He’s been really really under the weather lately.” Yeah, no surprise there. After everything he was going through, he thought it was more than normal at this point. 

    “I appreciate you for seeing him, Takeru.” At the sound of his first name, his blush deepened. 

    “It’s…it’s nothing ‘Sami.” Smiling, she shoulder-bumped him. 

    “I told you he likes you.”

    “Bullshit. The man scares me.” At that, she began to laugh, the sound of it making him smile. 

    “I’ve put Grandpa to bed for a nap which, surprisingly, he did not object to. You know how hard it is for him to sleep.”

    “Hm.”

    “After a couple of Ambien, he’s sleeping like a baby.” Turning to lift those pretty eyes of hers up towards him, she smiled again, her trademark dimples peeking out. 

    “Come join Mere and me for lunch.”

    “I…I don’t think that’s…appropriate.” Pursing her lips, she crossed her arms. 

    “Don’t act brand new.”

    “I’m not. It’s just…I do have a job to keep you know.”

    “Mmhm. Well, your job doesn’t know that I’ve known you since my freshman year of high school. We briefly dated in college. And we’ve been out for drinks on more than one occasion.” To that, his face grew red. 

    “You eating lunch with me is not going to kill you.” Spluttering for words, his efforts died down as she dragged him by the arm into the house. 

*** 

    Sometimes, when he slept, the memories of his past deeds didn’t play out like a film. No, sometimes, he’d be in the thick of battle. Adrenaline pumping, he’d run through the thick jungles and come to a clearing… a strange clearing of sunflowers. Surely not something meant to be in the middle of the jungle but there it would be. And in the middle of that garden of sunflowers, she’d stand. She’d turn towards him, dressed in her wedding dress, and look at him. 

    “Bea…what…what are you doing out here?” He’d ask, laying down his weapon. Sweat from the run would dribble down his temple and the heat from his heavy combat uniform would almost suffocate him. 

    “War has no place here, Ichiro.” She’d say, her voice just as sweet as he remembered it. 

    “Lay your weapon down, sugar.” He’d slowly put it down to the ground. 

    “Bea, why are you here…you shouldn’t be here…” She’d come towards him and her touch instantly melted him. His uniform suddenly would vanish, being replaced with the trousers and shirt he wore on their wedding day. 

    “I'm your wife. I’ll always be here.” She’d whisper against his chest, accepting his arms around her. They’d hold each other for a while, the scent of sunflowers and warm spring air now rustling them. 

    “You’re tired.” She’d observe, lifting a tiny hand to brush against his cheek. He never argued for he would always be so fucking tired.

    “Rest for a little while sweetheart. Come on.” She’d take his hand and slowly pull him deeper into the thick of the field of flowers, a soft sweet tune caressing him. Before he could open his mouth to speak, his eyes would shoot open. 

***

    “I don’t like that room, Sami.”

    “What, Grandpa’s office?”

    “Yeah.” The three of them sat in the enclosed day room and ate some tasty watermelon skewers and tacos, two things not traditionally matched but oh-so-yummy. 

    “It’s like a time machine into hell.” Asami was less playful at the comment and she actually looked as though she agreed. 

    “Why has he kept all of it? The pictures…the articles…the news clippings… the sword and gun? How can a man who is truly repentant keep all of that?” Biting into the juicy watermelon and prosciutto, she chewed thoughtfully before answering. 

    “I wondered the same… before I started to know more.” 

    “Know more?” Mere asked, intrigued eyes looking at her. 

    “I’ve been reading Grandpa’s diary.” 

    “Is that the humungous book you’ve been reading?” Meredith asked, eyes big as saucers. 

    “Yep.” Sami answered, reaching for her glass of water. 

    “Let me guess. He brags about all the things he did.” Sami, however, shot down his large assumption. 

    “Actually, he’s immensely regretful.” That shut him up. 

    “I tried not to hate him at first. Reading the things he did…they tortured me and I thought that I was living with a stranger.” Both of them were quiet as she continued. 

    “As I’m reading his entries though…the picture of a different man has surfaced.” Putting down the skewer, she balanced her cheek against her palm. 

    “He’s had to be this certain version of himself for so long…and now…now he doesn’t have to. Can you imagine how he feels?” Solemn, Meredith got up from the table and gently rubbed her back. 

    “I’ll go see if he wants to eat.” 

    “Thanks, Mere.” Now, the two of them alone,  Asami sighed. 

    “My grandfather is a very interesting man. He has so…many layers…so many sides to him. Sides that I bring out, you bring out. Sides that only Grandma could bring out.” 

    “Sami…”

    “I think… I think after looking up at a man so shrouded in mystery my whole life… I can honestly say that now I am beginning to understand him… at his core.” Finishing the skewer, she smiled prettily and reached for a taco. 

    “All this deep soul searching is nice but I still don’t like that room. I don’t care what you say.” The two of them began to chuckle and laugh, trying not to choke on the taco filling. 

    *** 

     “Your meal, woman.” Looking up from where she stooped, she squinted her eyes to see a familiar face. She recognized him as the soldier Ichiro would come into the club with on occasion. In the cold, her legs and fingers had grown numb but she had kept working. Every chance she got to be away from that suffocating barracks, she took it. Rain or shine… snow or cold… she cherished breathing in the air for a little bit. 

    Making a move to stand, it was paused by the dumping of scraps onto the ground. Lifting her eyes upward, she glared at him. The arrogant bastard grinned. 

    “Pick it up.” Eyes drifted down to what appeared to be rotten scraps of food. Rice, what little of it there was, was brown from rat shit and had small pieces of straw and glass sticking out of it. What she was sure was once healthy pieces of meat now was infested with tiny maggots and the smell of it made her stomach roll.

    “I will not eat this.” She said, voice hard. At that, he chuckled. 

    “What a spoiled bitch you are.” Lifting his hand, he slapped her, forcing her lip to split. Bloody saliva trickled out of her mouth as she lifted from the ground. 

    “You will eat what I tell you to eat.” He said haughtily, kneeling beside her. Reaching out, he grabbed her hair and forced her to look up at him. 

    “Matsuda is not here, princess.” Shoving her head away, he smirked. 

    “I remember you. The pretty Negro singer from the club.” She kept her head down and gripped the snow and rocks beneath her.  

    “You’re the one who ruled his drunken thoughts.” She didn’t say a word but unclenched her fingers. 

    “I told him to end it… this back and forth game between you but he didn’t listen. He should have made it permanent and shot you.” 

    “What right did he or you have to decide my fate? We were simply entertaining you.” A vein in his forehead bulged and he stood up. Taking his booted toe, he lifted his foot and stepped on her hand, nearly crushing it. Sharp jagged rocks, glass, and rough dirt cut into her flesh and she let out a shriek of pain. Keeping the crushing weight of his foot on her hand, he knelt and picked up the rotten food, snow, and dirt. Taking it, he forced it into her mouth, grinning maniacally as she began to cough and spit it out, blood and vomit soon erupting from her mouth. Only then, did he take his foot off of her hand and stepped back to watch her sob, clutching her injured limb. 

    “Be thankful you’re his whore and not mine. When you’re done cleaning the shit holes, go to barracks six. Don’t go anywhere until I arrive.” She said nothing, only bowed her head. Satisfied, he turned on said heel and left her there trembling and bloodied. 

*** 

    Machine gun fire ricocheted across the earth and shells exploded like massive fireworks, spraying debris and shrapnel. The screams of the wounded seemed to serenade the sky with the song of battle. 

    “Trap those motherfuckers! Jackson hit 'em’ with all you fucking got!” Deep within underground bunkers, he, however, barked orders of his own. 

    “Don’t let those bastards advance!” Some of his men had fallen but most of the first fleet of American soldiers had been blown to pieces by the land mines they’d placed and bullets. He felt proud of that fact. 

    “Move! Move, Move!”

    “First-line defense, remain your position. All others, follow me to the next checkpoint.”

    “Yes, sir!” 

    *** 

    He’d left Beatrice at Mukden, entrusting her care to Takahashi who all-too-happily agreed. He had been reluctant to give her over, knowing how he was. He too had held an interest in Beatrice back at the Oriental Pearl. Perhaps, now with him gone, the desires he had would drift back to the surface. Licking the salt from his lip, he commanded his men forward, an explosion too close for comfort sounding back behind them. 

    “Second Platoon, head to the second bunker. Third, Fourth and Fifth platoon assume your positions at the appropriate bunker!” 

    “Yes, sir!” It was only 1100 am and his entire uniform was soaked with sweat. Already, there had been more than enough carnage. Arms, legs, hands, even half torsos and entrails had been strewn across the black sand beach, and even from where they were positioned, they could hear the screams of the injured. 

    “The second wave of enemy soldiers are departing their ship.”

    “Where are the kamikaze stationed?” He asked, taking the binoculars from the recruit. Lifting them, he saw oft in the distance the enemy forces preparing once more to embark on the island. 

    “They are preparing to fire, sir.”

    “We must move.” 

    “Yes, sir.” 

*** 

    “How long did you fight at Iwo Jima?” A couple of hours after his nap, Mr. Matsuda was back in the conversation. He’d found himself summoned back to the dayroom after a small encouraging nudge from Asami. His initial check-up had long since passed. By now, he’d have left. But, it was the way Mr. Matsuda spoke as if in a hurry that made him stay. 

    “I lasted an entire month before getting wounded.”

    “I see. I can’t imagine being there in the middle of the bullet fire… how terrifying it must have been for you.” Mr. Matsuda waved his hand. 

    “Going into battle is not the most frightening part. Losing your confidence and morale is frightening. It is at that point where you begin to feel the arms of death hug you a tad bit closer.” 

*** 

    He’d smoked nearly all of his cigarettes.

    “Seiki, report your findings.”

    “Sir! There are 850 enemy troops approaching our right flank. We have gunners who are manning Type 92’s to keep them at bay. So far, 45 of the 100 assigned have been killed.” 

    “First Lt. Matsuda,” In the cramped dugout, the air was thick from the many bodies crammed into the limited space. Turning his head, he found the owner of the voice. A young draftee who had been grazed by an American bullet. His eyebrow was still leaking blood, though less profuse as it had before. 

    “Speak, comrade.” 

    “Why has the government left us to die here?” The question took him aback and he blinked at the boy, who could not have been more than eighteen or nineteen. 

    “What makes you say that?” 

    “With all due respect sir… you know we cannot beat them like this… we don’t stand a chance.” 

    “Shut up, Takeda!” One of the other soldiers groused, cutting his eyes at him. He, however, lifted his hand to halt any more. 

    “He has the right to speak.” The boy swallowed thickly as he prepared to answer, 

    “You are correct. Attempting to take over the enemy forces as we are right now is ludicrous. To say, however, that we cannot beat them suggests a lack of faith. Do you have doubts?” The young man’s face grew pale as if he’d seen a ghost. 

    “I would never doubt you or any other commander. I-It’s not that I distrust the government either…”

    “Then what is it?”

    “It’s just…at this point we are sitting ducks and at any given moment we will die. We’ve run out of rations and we’ve been moving to and fro throughout the island, trying to evade them. Why are we not showcasing our strength and power more?”  

    Understandably, his men had lost confidence. The fighting had been going on for weeks now, far longer than either side had anticipated. In that time, he’d had to lay to rest many of his soldiers, most of them young boys…inexperienced children thrust into the world of war and told to either fire a gun or pull the pin to their assigned hand grenade. Death was preferred… no, it was mandated, over surrender. It was an oath many fulfilled as they left the camp late at night in small groups, the sound of explosions soon confirming their deed. 

    “As soldiers, we are not to question the decisions of our commanding officers or our orders. We must, under no circumstance, lose hope or faith in our cause." 

    “Even if we are nothing more than scapegoats?” He was about to reply when yelling and screaming forced the men to cut the conversation short. 

    “WE’RE UNDER ATTACK!” 

    “Takeda, grab your weapon.” Standing, they all followed his lead as they headed towards the mouth of the bunker. The sight before him chilled him. 40-foot flames erupted from canisters on the backs of the enemy soldiers and instantly lit his troops on fire. Screaming and yelling, some threw themselves down, trying to put out the fire, others flailed wildly… all reason within them gone. 

    “Fire!” He hissed lowly, lifting his weapon. At once, they began to fire their weapons, causing the fire to cease. 

    “Bastards.” He spit, ducking as returning fire hit the bunker. When it died down, he smoothly climbed out of the hole and crouched low to the ground. The others did the same. No fire. No bullets. One such soldier against his instruction began to pop up and immediately was shot, falling back against the bunker entrance. 

    “GRENADE!” 

    “GET UP AND MOVE!” He shouted, popping up with his weapon raised. Firing a couple of rounds, he turned to run into the trees and thick of the forest. He turned, glad to see most of them keeping up with him. It was the turn that brought something he never expected. As if in slow motion, an explosion blasted through the air, sending shrapnel flying. Sudden screams ended almost immediately as it ripped the men who had been running behind him completely in two; limbs and bodies rupturing. Gasping for breath now, he turned to run but it was too late. Another explosion combusted to his near right, sending him flying. 

***

    Incredulous eyes looked back at him and he winced, hand now gripping his stump. 

    “I hadn’t seen the rocket launchers. They completely decimated my platoon. My leg had been almost completely separated from my body, hanging on by a thin piece of muscle.” Ito winced. 

    “The pain was nothing I’d ever experienced before.”

    “Did they capture you?” Letting go of his stump, the man reached for his tea. 

    “No. I hid underground.” 

    “How…how did you-?”

    “I had run towards the nearest bunker before getting blown up. The adrenaline, still so high in my body, enabled me to crawl to its opening. There were a few stragglers who were still alive who helped pull me in. Most of the group had perished.” 

    “Damn.” 

    “Once the adrenaline wore off, the pain was too much. I thought for sure that the pain alone would kill me.” 

*** 

    It didn’t sound like him. Surely, it couldn’t have been. But the rough hoarse voice screaming out, fused with agony did indeed belong to him. His uniform had melted to his skin in some places and was so terribly hot and charred, that it made him grow hot with fever. He’d lost so much blood and delirium was starting to set in. The soldiers scrambled to peel off their uniform jackets, trying to prevent more blood loss. His entire body trembled and shivered and he felt so cold his teeth had begun to chatter.

*** 

    “The jackets were full of mold and mildew and reeked something awful. But they helped to save my life.” 

    “It was a miracle that you didn’t get gangrene.”

    “Hm.” Silence enveloped them for a little while. 

    “I was so close to dying… but I made it up in my mind that I wouldn’t go…I wouldn’t die without a fight.” 

    “And Beatrice?”

    “And Beatrice…I…I haven’t told you much about her have I?” Just like that, his entire demeanor had changed and it was as if the conversation they had just had a second ago had never existed. He blinked a few times, confusion in his features. 

    “Bea was my wife and she was beautiful.”

    “Was she?”

    “Yes. We were happily married for 50 years. Can you believe that? 50 long years.”  Sad eyes growing soft, he sat back against the chair. 

    “Congratulations, sir.”