The ride back to her mother’s house was quiet and tense. She turned her body away from him and he looked out of the window at the glittering pavement and night-covered yards and houses. When they finally reached her driveway, the cab driver glanced wearily into the mirror at the two of them, unexplainably dark energy crackling between them. 

    “Payment, sir.” The Asian man took his eyes off of the woman and moved them to his. Feeling sweat bead up on the back of his neck, he watched as the man reached into his pockets, pulling out a wallet, hands stained with blood. Almost too calmly, he handed him more than the ride was worth and got out, opening the door for the lady. Gas and tires screeched away from them, leaving them once more in silence. She reached up to remove her hat and began to talk up the dark pathway to the front door. 

    “You’re upset.” Turning, she found him much closer than she expected, hands hanging down by his sides. 

    “Upset isn’t the right word.” She replied, reaching into her purse for the key. 

    “Then, what is the right word?” Exhaling as she felt his arms come around her, her hands slackened against her purse. 

    “You didn’t have to kill him.”

    “I didn’t kill him.”

    “You don’t know that. He could be dead by now.” 

    “If you’re expecting me to apologize for what happened, don’t. I won’t.” Turning to face him, she gripped her hat tightly in her hands. 

    “What’s the difference, Bea?”

    “What?”

    “When I cut off Doctor Nakakawa’s earlobe, you didn’t react like this. Some stranger in a club and now you’re pissed. What’s the difference?” She opened her mouth to respond but found no words. 

    “You know what kind of man I am. What I’m capable of.” 

    “Yeah but…”

    “I won’t change just because you and I love each other.” Jaw tight, she let him pull her close, his mouth now against her jaw. 

    “I’m liable to do a lot of things you’re not going to like because I’m in love with you.”

    “So if some man tomorrow decides to look at me you’re gonna stab him?” 

    “No. If he tries to come on to you and disrespects you, I will stab him.” Releasing a short exhale, she rolled her eyes. 

    “You’re impossible.”

    “You know that already.” Kiss against her bone. 

    “Violent and mean.”

    “You know that too.” Another kiss there a little lower against the underside of her chin. 

    “Ichiro, for God’s sake… please.” Lifting his eyes upward, he sighed against her. 

    “I’m drunk, I want to fuck the living shit out of you and he pissed me off. What do you want from me?” He exclaimed roughly, letting go of her. Cheeks even in the dark of night he could see had grown red, her mouth gaped open. 

    “I’m trying, Bea. I’m trying to be a saint but fuck it, I’m never going to be a good and proper man.”  

    “I haven’t asked you to be anythin’ other than who you are.” She shot back, arms crossed. 

    “I was myself tonight and you’re now bitching at me.”

    “Well, that’s because you stabbed a man in an alleyway, Ichiro! All he did was ask for a dance.”

    “He touched your waist. Don’t forget that part.”

    “Okay, he touched my waist. Who the hell cares?”

    “I didn’t like the way he talked about you. Didn’t like the way he looked at you.” 

    “He’s a man, just like you.”

    “He’s not your boyfriend.” Rolling her eyes, she pursed her lips up. 

    “All a man can do is look, Ichiro.”

    “Not without eyes, he can’t.” 

    “Ya know, you and your wounded male ego are getting the hell on my nerves. You just can’t help yourself can you?”

    “Bea baby? That you?” The sound of her mother cut through their argument and she cleared her throat, lifting a hand to push him back a bit from her. 

    “Yeah, Momma. I’m… I’m comin’.”

    “Will out there with you?”

    “Yes ma’am. I’m about to leave shortly.” He answered, eyes not once having left hers. 

    “Come in when you are ready.” 

    “Yes ma’am.” They both replied and soon it was quiet again. 

    “Come on over here and sit down.” Pulling him by his shirt sleeve, they went over to a porch swing and sat. With a stressed exhale, he sat back and leaned his head back, swallowing so hard she saw his Adam’s apple bob sharply. Squeezing his eyes shut, he opened them to turn them to look at her. 

    “Bea baby…your mother calls you that.” It wasn’t a question but stated as an observation. 

    “Yeah, she does.” His lips smiled a little bit. 

    “Okaasan called me Ikki.” 

    “Ikki?”

    “Mmhm.” Swallowing, she moved to lay down against his lap, bringing her legs and knees up. 

    “Listen. I’m territorial over you and I won’t apologize for it. You’re lucky I don’t mark you with pee.” 

    “You’re disgusting.” Full out grinning, he glanced down at her. 

    “My ego is far from wounded. An immature little fuck like that does not raise concern on my part.” His voice was hushed and she opened her eyes to look up at him. 

    “Anyone who disrespects you disrespects me and I have an issue with that. I’m allowed that much.” There she went, blushing again and the color was lovely. 

    “Maybe I was out of line tonight…maybe I could have handled it a different way. But, I didn’t.” She watched as he lifted his arm up across the back of the swing, his fingers and palm now brown from dried blood.

    “On the battlefield, I was able to release the tension, the anger, the frustration… whatever I was feeling. It was easily quelled with a bullet or a bayonet. I don’t know how to navigate this civilian world. It’s strange.” Now she understood the underlining motive for his behavior. She was proud of him, knowing that he wasn’t great with words or expressing himself verbally. She could tell that he was really trying. 

    “I haven’t been able to… put it to rest. Any of it.” His mother and grandmother’s death. The end of the war.   The horrors he’d seen and the things he’d done.

    “Me neither.” She replied honestly, giving him an encouraging smile. 

    “Sometimes, I wake up thinking I’m still in the female barracks with Ruby. Others, I dream of being put into Unit 100.” Her eyes left him and fell to his hands. 

    “We’ve survived the worst time of our lives and yet nobody showed us how to move on, how to live on, or how to let go.” She’d hit the nail on the top of the head because he gave her a single nod in agreement. 

    “We’re gonna have to figure it out together, sugar.” 

    “I’d… like that.” She turned her body towards him and snuggled up against his lap, glad that his arm came down and covered her. 

    “Don’t stab anybody else… please.” 

    “…I’ll try.” 

*** 

    They’d sat out on the porch for a long while and she finally opened the door and allowed him inside. Taking him upstairs, she washed his hands, watching the blood trickle down into the sink. Leaving him, she’d gone into her room and changed into her night clothes. Coming out, she found him standing by her door, feet bare and shirtless in the hallway. 

    “I ruined your birthday.” He said quietly, lifting clean hands and nails now to rustle his hair now free of gel. Messy bangs framed his forehead and the cutest little pout poked out his bottom lip. Dear God in Heaven how was this the same man who not even three hours ago nearly killed someone? 

    “No cake, no candles, no lavish dinner this time. Just booze, jazz, dancin’, and blood.” She said with a small grin. Stepping into the hallway, she pressed her face against a firm pectoral. Lifting her head, she poked out her lips. 

    “Maybe you did mess up my birthday. But there’s one way you can make it right.” He let his fingers glide across her now uncovered curls, their soft thickness pleasant. Taking her by the back of the neck, he leaned down and kissed her, real nice and gentle which surprised her. Gliding fingers down from his pectoral, she allowed her fingers to touch and roam him, feeling the satiny skin of his ribcage. Further down, fingertips were light as they breezed across taut and well-defined abdominal muscles. As her touch increased, so their kisses deepened and she hummed against his mouth, welcoming a single squeeze of her derriere. Lips separating, his hands let go of her bottom, palms now pressing flat against it. 

    “Goodnight, Bea.” 

    “Goodnight, Ikki.” His cheeks grew flush with color and he appeared slightly embarrassed. Hands sliding away from her, he turned away from her, going into one of the guest rooms her Momma must have prepared for him earlier that day. At the soft click of the door being closed, she nibbled on her lip, turning to freeze. Her momma stood there in her housecoat and bed scarf and her icy eyes cut into her. 

    “M-Momma…” 

    “That boy wanted to have his way with you tonight in my house.” Cheeks warm, she lifted a hand to her neck. 

    “But he didn’t…” Her mother uncrossed her arms. 

    “Seems you and him have real deep history.” 

    “Yes ma’am.” With a sigh, her mother pursed her lips. 

    “Gon to bed now Bea baby.”

    “Yes ma’am.”

    “And happy birthday again.” Welcoming a kiss on her forehead, she entered her bedroom and closed the door. 

*** 

    I stayed with Beatrice and her mother for another two days before my departure. I’d gotten to see some of their favorite parts of the city and though the whole time her mother had a sour look on her face, I enjoyed the time with them. We stayed away from the South Side, to Bea’s relief. I got to witness her and her mother in their everyday happenings, starting from cooking American breakfast together to taking me along to a grocery store. It was humbling to see how resilient and strong the Negro race was. Like the hardy lotus, they made wherever they dwelled beautiful, be it in dirt, mud, or shit.  A part of me didn’t want to leave but I had to return for one last imperial assignment. 

***

    She didn’t look too happy as he packed his suitcase into the trunk. Oft in the distance, her mother sat on the porch, keeping a watchful and stern eye on them. 

    “When’s the next time I’ll see you?”

    “November.”

    “Hm.” Her pout diffused now and she accepted his answer with a nod. 

    “I’ll fly here to Chicago and then we can make another flight.”

    “Where to?” She asked uncrossing her arms. 

    “Alabama.” Disbelief smacked her across the face and she knit her eyebrows together. 

    “Why the hell would you want to go there?”

    “I told you I want to see where you were born.” Pursing her lips once more, she shook her head. 

    “So once you see where I was born, then what?” 

    “We fly to California and spend the end of the year together.”

    “That’s a whole lot of flying. Which means a whole lot of money.”

    “Don’t concern yourself with that.” 

    “Hm.” 

    “Leave it alone, Bea.”

    “Fine.”

    “Give me a hug.”

    “There you go ordering me around.” Grinning, he slipped hands into his pockets, waiting until she begrudgingly walked into his chest. 

    “I’ll write.”

    “Yeah yeah yeah.” Biting her lips in a smile, she sighed against him and enjoyed his warmth. 

    “I love you.” He whispered against the top of her head. He’d only said it once before and it seemed so long ago. Hearing it a second time made her heart skip a beat. 

    “Love you too, Papa.” Her voice was soft and tender. Kissing her sweetly, he pressed another against her cheek and let her go, feeling her mother’s eyes cutting into him. 

    “Call me when you make it home.”

    “I will.” Smiling at her, he got into the cab and watched her wave in the rearview mirror until even she faded out of sight. 

*** 

    In those three months, my uniform, which once felt so familiar and safe, now felt constricting. I wore it with honor and with pride, yes, but Beatrice made me want to cast it aside for civilian comfort. I didn’t know what it meant to be a civilian and frankly, neither did she. I wanted to learn what that was like…together. I’d sat in on several talks between the United States and Japan, translated several transcripts, and even spoken on the Emperor’s behalf at several post-treaty events. I hoped that what I was doing was truly helping shape our countries into a new era… a more peaceful era. I no longer wanted to hold a weapon, no longer wanted to fight. No, I now wanted a simple life… wanted a life with Beatrice free from war, pain, or memories of the past. 

    When we met in Chicago in November of ’47, the cold chilled my bones. Rivaling the cold  I’d felt in the USSR, a shiver shook me and she lifted a winter hat, a hat it appeared she’d made for me. Removing my military cap, she placed the warm hat on my head with a small smile. A smile I returned. 

*** 

    The heat had flushed his skin pink and beads of sweat had gathered and dripped down his temple and the back of his neck. Beatrice hadn’t been lying. It was hotter than hell down here. Glad he’d taken her advice and dressed light, he reached out to pull her hand, bringing her to a stop. He could feel her anxiety and brushed his thumb against the back of her hand in an attempt to settle it. Taking a deep breath, she inhaled and exhaled. 

    “Let’s go.” Entwining his fingers with her gloved ones, they continued down the trek of country road. She was dressed in a fine cream dress, a gorgeous lace pattern adorning the whole of it from the chest to the bottom of her skirt. A matching belt in the same pattern circled her tiny waist and on her hands, she wore a grey-silver pair of gloves, length to about her forearm. 

    On her head, she wore a matching hat of the same color. Cream heels on her feet and hose on those shapely little legs as was appropriate. She was simply beautiful to behold and he didn’t conceal his staring as they walked. He wore a light daffodil shirt, sleeves pulled up to his elbows. A pair of brown leather suspenders and light brown tweed trousers. On his head, he wore a grey newsboy cap. 

    “When we were run out of this town, we ain’t have nothin’ but the clothes on our backs. No money. No belongings. Not even a car.” She spoke, her voice sending chills down his spine. 

    “We ran down this very road as the Klan hunted us. Ran down this road screaming and crying as their dogs came after us.” Taking a shaky breath, she took in the thick forest lining the road, the threadbare road free of persons or vehicles. 

    “We ran until our feet bled. Finally, the dogs were far enough away, having been called back to their masters. They stopped following us with their torches and guns. They shouted one thing to us as we kept running. ‘Come back here Niggers and we’ll skin you alive.’ For a long time, we believed them… scared to even consider coming back. We didn’t want to come back.” 

    “Bea,”

    “You get to see me as I am behind the dress, glitz and glamour. Just a lil nigger born in Huntsville.” He’d heard it enough by now. The racial slur hurled at the Negroes in LA, mostly from the whites but sometimes from people who looked like him. It didn’t sit right with him. Where once he would have been that son of a bitch joining in, now it disgusted him. Who were they to side with the whites when they called them chinks, dog-eaters, and fish-heads? 

    Being in America had only confirmed that he’d been wrong… everything he’d ever thought about blacks was wrong. Beatrice was the first to show him… she was the first to teach him that they weren’t animals that took up too much space or air on the planet. No, she was just like him, her people like his own who battled what he was observing as white supremacy.  

    Making her stop again, he forced her to turn around to face him, his hands now gripping her arms. 

    “Stop it.” Eyes firm, he loosened his grip on her arms and drifted them down to grasp her hands. Eyes grown teary, she remained quiet as he spoke again, his voice firm with conviction. 

    “I see a survivor. I see a warrior….a strong, intelligent, and beautiful woman.” She lifted her hands now to grip his wrists. 

    “Those white motherfuckers fear you. They know the greatness in you and that is why they go to such lengths to repress it and make you fear them.” Forehead now against hers, his words, heat, and breath breezed hot against her mouth. 

    “Don’t refer to yourself like that ever again. Do you understand?” Taking a shaky breath, she gave a little nod. Satisfied, he let go of her, expression now vehement. Their walk continued and in the middle of the afternoon, birdsong captured their ears. It was chilling to think that such a peaceful place was once a horror scene.  

    Soon they came up to a slight fork in the road and he noticed her hand started to tremble. Grasping tightly to it, he pulled her forward. Trees lined each side of the road and as far back as the eye could see. It was eerie here, a thick and deafening silence where once birds chatted. Feeling goosebumps rise on his skin, he took in a house up ahead. Part of the house had been burned but what remained was a partial roof, chimney, and window. 

    The closer they grew to it, the deeper her breaths got. She let out a whimper and ripped her hand away from him, her eyes filling with tears. Lifting her hands, she covered her face and knelt there by a tree, full of leaves. They lynched my daddy. Took him and hung him up from the tree in our front yard. 

    She let out a wail of anguish, eyes now staring blankly on the tree in front of her. 

    “Daddy……” She wept, growing still as he slowly knelt beside her. It was as if he suddenly saw through her eyes, a tall burly man hanging in front of them, his trousers torn to pieces, hands tied behind his back, eyes empty and half-lidded. His mouth gaped open as if he’d tried to take one last breath. There on his legs, streams of blood painted his rich brown skin red, a white hand holding a knife coming to cut his penis off, a gush of blood spurting onto the ground as his testicles went next.

     The sound of the rope brushing against the tree with the wind and his large bare feet swinging in the breeze made him want to vomit. There by the front door, his wife held their children, Beatrice and Joe and they all wept, sounds of sorrow clear in his ear.  

    “Bea,” Though he made no sound, tears now fell down his own cheeks and he wrapped arms around her. 

    “Beatrice.” He called again, the sound of her grief and agony split his heart in two. Lifting her face, he turned her gaze away from the shadows, caressing her cheeks with his thumbs. 

    “Look at me. Look at me, sweetheart.” She struggled, mouth sucking in wet breaths, eyes still blinded by tears. 

    “I’m sorry…. I’m so sorry for what happened to you… to your family.” She gathered her breath, her lips trembling now. 

    “I asked you to come here and I shouldn’t have.” 

    “No,” She answered shakily, taking another breath. 

    “I… I needed this. I needed the closure.” Sniffing, she exhaled as he wiped more of her tears. 

    “I might never have gotten it if it wasn’t for you. Thank you.” Lifting her arms, she pulled him into a hug, breath warm and soft against his neck. 

    “I’m what his wildest dreams are made of. He’d be so proud of me.” 

    “He would.” He agreed, his lips pressing little pecks against her temple and to her cheek. Withdrawing from their hug, she watched in silence as he moved his body into a deep bow, face pressed against his hands. Heart pounding, she pat her cheeks dry and balled her lips as he slowly came up to rest his buttocks on the top of his feet. 

    “Your family didn’t end here.” He said quietly, turning to look at her. She blinked at his statement. 

    “It was just reborn.” Taking his hand, she firmly grasped it. 

    “Maybe you’re right.” Leaning to lay her head on his shoulder, she closed her eyes and began to hum a tune. Her daddy’s favorite.