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*explicit battle sequences, death, r*pe. please be warned* 


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five 




Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


 

 Rainy days were the worst. When the water fell from the sky and hit the earth, his entire body hurt. Over the years, his wife's presence had been more than simply therapeutic. When they were younger and his leg or back hurt, she'd take him to soak in a large tub filled with some kind of purifying salt. She'd lather her hands with aromatic oils and softly work the knots and kinks out of his muscles until he'd be all but putty beneath her. Sometimes, she'd hum, other times she'd sing... and all the while, the pain in his head too would subside and melt away. 

Hands were an interesting thing. It fascinated him how humans took them for granted. Without the muscle, sinew, and bone, one could not eat, reach, grab, pull... It was amazing how the digits served an important purpose for essential living. Thunder now crackled in the dark firmament. Lightning tore the clouds apart, an impressive show of pinkish-red color flashing throughout the atmosphere. Matsuda...His eyes concentrated on his hands. Matsuda...He tried to stretch his fingers but pain made it impossible... Matsuda...Matsuda...MATSU-

*** 

"-DA! HURRY UP!" Rain pelted them as they filed out of the Army trucks. Blinded by the onslaught, he grit his teeth and ran forward, the call of their superior officer up ahead. 

"Assume positions!" Immediately crashing hard into the thick mud, he aligned his machine gun against him, finger on the trigger. 

"Damned white baboons! Shoot on sight! Don't allow them to advance!" A uniform cry echoed throughout the forests. Heart beating wildly in his chest, he could see the landscape off in the distance. The fortresses they'd safeguarded. Now being invaded slowly by the enemy forces. The firing squad was all deathly quiet, except for their breath. In mid-July, sweat poured down his face and neck, the slippery moisture making his hands slide a bit against the trigger. His uniform stuck to him like a second skin and the humidity licked his face with red hot flames, making it hard to breathe. 

He slowed his breathing, thin streams of sweat dangerously slipping close by his tear ducts. The sound of water sloshing pierced the stillness and the sound of heavy tinkling from equipment rose next and he tightened his position on the trigger. Sharply looking to his left, they all waited for the order to fire. After a little while yet and closer still they came, the Superior Officer lifted his hand. Without warning, bullets began to ring out as they sliced through trees, water, muscle, and bone. 

*** 

She'd had a great evening. Nothing too out of the ordinary. She'd gone out with some girlfriends to a popular eating spot and danced to some swing. By the time she went to sleep, she had been completely exhausted. Deep in slumber, she had been unaware of the chaos that was happening around her. It wasn't until she had been shaken awake by her brother that she grew terrifyingly sober. 

"BEATRICE! WAKE UP!" Jolting awake, she sleepily protested against her brother who took hold of her and yanked her up. 

"What tha hell's wrong withyou?" She grumbled, lifting hands to rub the sleep out of her eyes. 

"The Japs are here Bea."

"Whatchumeantheyhere? They everwhere."

"No...they standing right outside the door with pistols and bayonets." That slapped her awake real quick and she started to panic. 

"Oh God..."

"They gon take us somewhere."

"Take us where Joe?"

"I don't know...." Pulling her out of bed, her brother began to throw open her armoire. 

"Start packin. Put your valuables on you."

"Joe..."

"Do it. They not playing." Still trying to wake up fully, her mind turned into a panicked frenzy and she began to shove clothes and other belongings into suitcases. 

"We never shoulda left Chicago." She said in a clipped nervous tone as he helped her into her housecoat. 

"Maybe you right. But we had a better chance out here than back in the States." She'd shoved her most expensive jewelry and money into her undergarments and hastily threw on some shoes, a coat, and a hat. Heart pounding against her chest her eyes met her brother's. 

"We'll be alright Bea. They'll let us go when we show them our papers." Everything in her wanted to break down and cry but she refused. She swallowed her tears down and reached for his hand. Slowly, he led her to the door. Opening it, the two of them stood still as mayhem happened around them. 

Soldiers pulled men, women and children out of their homes, men women and children that looked like them. They rounded them up in the middle of the street. Some of the women barely had anything on and shivered under thin housecoats or blankets. Young children began to cry and cling to their mothers. Joe tightened his grip on her hand just as a few soldiers turned to look at them. 

"You. Stand here." One of them ordered in heavily accented English. 

"Yes sir." Tugging her along, the two of them joined the others. Lifting his free arm, he wrapped it around her and pulled her close. 

"We're not gonna cause no trouble." 

"No talk. Talk I shoot." That quickly ended and the two of them stood for what seemed like hours. In the dead of night, it was cold and she had begun to shiver. She was fortunate to have put on shoes before being disrupted. Some of them had none and were not allowed to go back inside. 

"Show them the papers, Joe." She whispered against him, her teeth chattering. Eyes watched the group of soldiers move about, entering the empty homes, presumably looking for valuables. To their horrified shock, the captors began to set the homes on fire, one by one. 

Some of the women began to scream and cry and that seemed to set off a grisly chain of events. One of the women that had started screaming was shot, blood soaking the dark pavement as she fell crumpled to the ground. Utter chaos happened then as folks began to scatter in different directions. She began to hyperventilate then, eyes wide and teary as the soldiers unleashed a barrage of gunfire upon the crowd. Hands grabbed at her and forced her away from Joe, making her yell. 

"NO! STOP! LET ME GO!" Joe, no longer peaceable, tried to resist, turning to clock one of the soldiers in the face. The man who had her was pulling her away further and further and God, everything was going so fast... all of it was moving so fast she barely had time to process what was happening. Time, though, stopped all too soon when he moved to come towards her. Before he could go anywhere, two soldiers attacked him, one from the side and one from the back with their bayonets, stabbing him through the chest and just under his ribcage. He let out an agonized groan but it was quickly silenced as yet another aimed a rifle at him and pulled the trigger, messily splattering blood and brains into the air. 

"JOSEPH! JOSEPHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" She wasn't sure when she had started screaming but she heard herself wail and weep, calling out to him with shrieks of sorrow. Fat heavy tears blinded her vision and she made every move to resist the hands and arms that held her captive. It did no good as they hauled her away further and further away. Everything moved in slow motion and at the moment they threw her into a windowless trunk, she had gone limp. 

***

The moans of the dying made his eyes watery. He'd tried as much as he could to carry his fallen comrades back to shelter. Some of them had expired long before he'd lifted them up, others staring up into nothingness before the soul left their eyes. Snarling up his lip, he hoisted up another wounded soldier and inhaled sharply through his nose as he helped him back towards base. 

"Matsuda, return to the frontlines." His commanding officer ordered, coming to take the man from him. 

"Yes sir." And so, there he crawled back into his spot, once flanked by many comrades, now just a few. Focusing his telescope, he rested his finger lightly on the trigger. It humored him that the Americans thought that they were being quiet as they approached but their heavy footfalls gave them away easily. Shoot on sight. Swallowing, he waited until they were a tad bit closer before firing. He'd avenge his fallen comrades with their blood. Like flies, they started to go down, and holes of blood-covered their uniforms. Within minutes, he'd cleared the line of them and soon got to his feet. 

Grabbing his katana, he pushed past the thick foliage of leaves and branches. Some of them were still alive and reached for their weapons. Those he cut down almost immediately. But, then there were those who were significantly more wounded who tried to grab their weapons. That humored him. One such man had eyes blazing with blue fire. Hatred. Blood trickled out of his mouth and he'd fallen so hard that his helmet had been knocked off. Wet blonde-brown hair plastered to his forehead. 

"God...damn...Jap..." He hissed with haggard breaths, reaching for his gun there a little ways from him. The insult made him laugh and he knelt, he watched the ant scurry and wiggle. Clicking his tongue, he tsked the dying man. 

"You're a useless soldier. A waste of a body."

"Fuck you...yell...yellow monkey..." He grinned. He'd tired of toying with him and with a sigh stood up, lifting the katana above his head. 

"Tennōheika Banzai." With a clean swift cut, he sliced off his head. Lifting to pick it up, he gripped it by the hair and spit on the dismembered corpse. 

When he returned to camp, he'd collected about three or four heads and laid them at his commanding officer's feet. 

"Well done, Matsuda. Our Emperor would be proud." To the praise, he bowed, lowering his entire body to the ground in reverence. He stayed put until a hand tapped him on the back. 

"Let's return to base and celebrate this victory."

"Yes sir." 

***

"Grandpa?" The room was quiet and she hadn't seen any signs of movement as she peeked her head into his room. 

"Grandpa-" 

"I'm not dead yet. Calm yourself." Exhaling in relief, Asami came into the room. 

"You didn't come downstairs for breakfast or lunch."

"I'm not hungry."

"Jii-chan, you have to eat." He didn't answer her and she sighed as she neared his bed. Pausing, she froze at the scene before her. He'd removed his prosthesis and it leaned up against the wall, signs that he's hastily removed it. To add to the fact, as he lay in bed, signs of bloody fluid had leaked into the sheets, something she'd never before seen. 

"Grandpa, your leg..."

"It has done this from time to time over the years. Fluid is collected in the stump."

"Is that healthy?"

"I doubt that it is."

"But-"

"What did you come for Asami?" He said with a brash tone cutting into her. 

"I'm concerned about you Jii-chan...that's all. I do not mean to irritate or disturb you." He sighed heavily and began to sit up on the edge of the bed. 

"Today is a bad day. I apologize."

"No, grandpa...it's....it's fine. Can I bring you anything? Is there something that Meredith can make you to eat?"

"Broth. A few crackers. And some vegetables from Bea's garden." 

"Of course." As she turned to walk away, he'd reached out and grabbed her hand, bringing her a still. He was silent as he looked up at her, but his eyes expressed everything his mouth couldn't. He was in pain, that she could clearly see. But, more than pain, she was looking into the true face of suffering. Such agony had marred his face in the form of deep-set wrinkles of age. Harsh lines had etched themselves around the sides of his mouth due to frowning. She remembered when his mouth smiled and laughed. His eyes once had been warm and friendly...full of life. 

Normally they were detached and lifeless. But on this day, the emotions he loathed himself to feel or admit came bubbling up to the surface just as the blood that had escaped from his leg. At some point, it had to all be released. Gently tightening her grip on his hand, she smiled sadly and approached, coming to wrap arms around him. 

"It's okay to miss her grandpa." He slowly let go of her hand. 

"It's okay to say that you're hurting." She continued as his arms came to hug her in return. 

"It's okay to feel." 

"No...I don't have the right to feel." 

"Why not?" 

"If you knew what I've done... you would wish me dead." At that, she remained silent. He didn't know that indeed she was in process of knowing. While she had conflicting emotions about it all... about him... he was still her grandfather.

"Grandma loved you and so do I." His arms were loosening from around her and soon they hung at his sides. She took the cue and let go of him. 

"Staying in here cooped up in the dark is not going to make you feel better. Eat with me, Grandpa. Come on." He didn't complain as she helped him stand. Grabbing his crutches for him, she gave them to him, and together they began to make their way downstairs, slowly but surely meeting Mere who had prepared them lunch. 

***

Sometimes, it's best to leave the past in the past. To move forward, we must forgive ourselves for our ignorance, mishaps, and wrongdoings. What if I can't? 






Chapter End Notes:

 

A/N: This chapter was heavy. *sniffle* I want to give Ichiro the BIGGEST hug. He was so indoctrinated. So brainwashed. He's literally battling himself... the thin line between his beliefs, his spirituality, and what is right and wrong. It's heartbreaking to write. Can we talk about Asami for a moment? She's such a brave queen. Can you imagine reading such gruesome crimes against humanity and knowing that YOUR GRANDFATHER participated in committing them? That's a HARD pill to swallow and sort through. Even still, Sami is trying to weed through the past and present in more ways than one. His memories and hers. A part of her cannot bring herself to hate her grandpa. More than this, I believe she's trying her very best to UNDERSTAND him. 

My heart hurts for Bea and the loss of her brother. I imagine that the moments before the Imperial Japanese Army or even the Nazis stormed into homes and in the blink of an eye ruined lives, the victims did ordinary mundane things not aware of what lie ahead. 

I wanted to add another note. This story's setting is currently in 1997. Asami is 24 years old. :) I've got some pictures of the perfect people for Asami and Meredith. 

 

Lisa Asano as Asami Miller (24) 

Natalia Castellara Calvani as Meredith (19) 







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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.