This is dedicated to Miss PersephoneLee, Inuloverforeva, and to my colleague who discovered my identity in …

Chapter I: Soliloquy (Prelude)

It was my first assignment as a member of the military enlisted personnel. The time was early spring, when the eastern infantry battalion was called to the northern regions of the Shiribeshi subprefecture to defend the remaining military headquarters in the port of Otaru against allies of the west.

When the USAAF (United States Army Air Forces) began its counter-attack against the Japanese army in the Pacific, atomic warfare has delivered defeat to my country. The B-29s have decided the end for us.

The year was 1945 A.D.

My first day in the battlefield was a nightmare in all sense. After a 1-month period of training and battle simulations, we were sent to back up the remaining defensive units stationed at Otaru. When the news of the attack came to us, it was vague if the military detachment even withstood the two-day assault because no data on casualties and extent of damage reported, though it was known that they have more men for disposal and bigger stores of arsenal than the east and west infantry bases.

According to the commanding officer, it was an emergency "back up" mission, just to ensure that the enemy won't reach the city of Sapporo, if the assaults persisted. We were about two hundred in number. Most of us were rookies who never killed anyone, and our group has a limited capability of launching a counter-attack. Therefore, everyone assumed that the situation was still under control.

It was only when we arrived that the truth became clear: they weren't able to keep the enemy at bay.

During the transport, I had a chance to take a glimpse outside. Though it was early spring, the supposedly blue sky appeared to be consumed by fire. Stretching from the coast of Ishikari Bay to the borders of Soranumadake, the panorama was all tinted with crimson.

I closed my eyes and held the rifle close to my chest. We were standing side by side in a type-60 carrier, like a colony of frozen ants.

As we enter the borders, gunfire was everywhere. We avoided narrow roads and travelled on the highway to avoid being ambushed. If we get attacked, at least we can spread apart fight back.

I heard the sounds as they get nearer. I held my breath, and waited for the orders.

At that time, we were almost on the end of the bunker when deafening explosions destroyed almost half of our unit. Projectile-fired grenades had anticipated our arrival.

The enemy has indeed past the defence lines and was already inching their way to the base.

All I remembered was I was running away from the burning carrier together with a few who survived the explosions.

As everything went to confusion, I heard the commanding officer call out for us to re-group. Bullets were flying by, hitting us one by one. Some of them hit heads, some hit arms and legs. All I can see was blood and along with it, falling corpses, whole-bodied and decapitated.

Soon the nightmare begun for me.

I was able to hide on the safer side of the trench with the other soldiers. One of us was wounded on the left leg and the other, a punctured abdomen.

The rush of blood overwhelmed my consciousness and I can feel my throat constrict. I know that I had to fire back and defend myself in the least.

Then the crossfire began. Some of the enemy were slowly approaching on the north side, while others coming from the east. The proximity was nearer in the east side so the commanding officer ordered us to fire those in the east with machine guns. It was my first time to use a type 92. I was accustomed in just using an ordinary rifle, but when faced with a situation such as this, heavy machine guns such as type 92 could save your life. Those who come from on the north were best dealt with type 38 cannons and mortars.

The first time I pulled the trigger, I was able to set a helmet flying. I had just killed an enemy… I blew off his head. My hands were shaking as my eyes trailed where that bullet has landed. But as soon as I fired again, I felt the loss on fear and the loss of control.

The fighter planes have not arrived yet, I suspected. They must have thought this operation would be easy, that we could be eliminated with conventional combat.

Fires spread from the burning trucks on the backside of the trench. Some men were caught in it for it was difficult to climb over the other side while shielding oneself from the rain of ammunitions. As a consequence, more men were trapped within the line of fire and it consumed them alive. The smell of burning human flesh, mixed with damp winds carrying dust and gunpowder was nauseating.

This will be a long ordeal, I told myself.

Most of us were fighting on foot. In these situations, ground combat is necessary for one can easily be targeted with highly explosive weapons when riding on a type 1 Chi-He or a carrier.

I was reloading my machine gun with another round of bullets, when I saw a wounded soldier come near me.

He propped himself on a small stack of rubble, a few feet from my position. His side was covered with blood, both fresh and dried. From the bloodstain on his uniform, one can conclude that his insides have been damaged by a large bullet, probably coming from a machine gun.

He was screaming in agony so I went to him. The wound was large and bleeding profusely. Pallor took over him as the bleeding persisted.

I took off my jacket and pressed it on the wound, hoping to slow down the bleeding, but as soon as my uniform touches the opening on his side, it soon became damp with his blood. I realized by looking at him, that he is of a different military class.

"You're name… please," he said with a great deal off difficulty.

I had spoken, but I haven't heard any voice coming out.

"Private Athrun Zala sir…"

It's as is my throat was still constricted.

But he heard what I have said.

He paused for a while, after hearing my words. Then coughed violently once more, spitting out more blood.

"We have been defending the zone for 48 hours, but it looks like it's over."

I could barely hear him, for another explosion occurred on the east side of the trench.

"We could no longer hold out… and the back-up's been stalling," he continued.

I held him as he coughed continuously, while my eyes searched around for my officer.

This man must be saved.

He may receive first aid if I retreat to the farther side of the zone, where my seniors are stationed.

No commanding officer, nor a single medic, could help me if I stayed then, I couldn't leave my post. It would be a breach of military protocol if one leaves his post.

And then I heard distress calls: calls for retreat.

But we could no longer retreat. We went there as reinforcements, but it was obvious that we're outnumbered and on the verge on defeat.

Then the wounded soldier spoke once more.

"Seven… or even more… troupes of have landed last night. The fleet came from the Siberian Peninsula. If we lose the HQ, then the region is already defenceless."

He pulled something out of his pocket. A piece of cloth rolled with a thin string.

"Guard this… with your life…"

He handed the blood-stained object to me.

"Never open it," he added.

"Don't tell anyone that you have it, except your commanding officer. If you survive through this… give it to him. If you get caught by the enemy, destroy it."

He gave those orders to me, and I only had to nod in approval.

"Yes sir," I replied.

I took a glimpse at his uniform once more and read his nameplate.

A Lieutenant Colonel.

He had a special role in the army. From the way he looked, it's as if he had been in the battlefield all his life.

And then I glanced at the thing he gave me.

This could be a confidential document about a fight plan, or a military tactic. It could be a blueprint of the base, or an agreement.

I wasn't even sure. And from his instructions, it was clear that I shouldn't attempt to know what it was, even if this object could cost my life.

I could've sworn I saw tears in his eyes when he took his last breath.

And so he died.

I held the piece of cloth with my left hand, and closed his eyes with my right.

It was a little too late for me to say a prayer, for a bullet struck the edge of my forehead.

All I remembered was the feeling of being scorched. And then I lost consciousness.

It was a dream… but everything was real.

The patches of my memory drifted as my mind floated between the realm of the living and the dead.

Plums of spring blossom

Healing tears of the blue sky

The pain of a scar

I saw my father in his deathbed. I was thirteen years old when he passed away, and mom followed, a year after.

The sight of him, holding my hand and smiling at me as if he was only going away for a while, made me let go. I couldn't remember crying in his funeral. Just fixed my eyes on the cold granite tomb where he was laid...

He is a nationalist, and wanted me to pursue a career in the army. It was unexpected that he died of cholera, leaving my mother in the depths of depression. She committed suicide because of loneliness. Took a large dose of Phenobarbital.

Being part of the emerging war is none of my concern, and I have lived a rather normal childhood. I came from a middle-class family of Ume Shu (plum wine) makers. The business had been a tradition, and I planned to continue what father had been doing in his short lifetime.

However, when the war broke out, my life took a sudden turn...

The government required every male citizen from age 20-50 to join the military.

I've enlisted in the armed forces, left home and the one I'm supposed to marry...

It was early Sunday morning when a man came to my house. He was my father's childhood friend. He came to give his daughter to me, saying that the marriage has been decided even before we were born.

"…She has the hands of a farmer… She'll be a useful wife. Your father and I sealed an agreement that our first-born children be married," the man said to me.

My eyes riveted on her.

A brown-eyed lady dressed in a blue yukata, solemnly bowed as her father begs for my approval.

Her eyes were avoiding me. She appeared to be neither happy nor regretful.

"You came to here to see me, and oblige that I marry your daughter, whom I haven't even met." My words were plain and straightforward.

"She will no longer be useful to anyone but you…I cannot afford to have her anymore, I beg of you…"

Sure enough I felt despise for the man and pity for her daughter.

"How old is she?"

"Twenty-three, the same age as yours…" the man replied.

She remained standing, as I stepped forward and took a closer look at her.

"Do you agree with your father's wish?" I asked.

For the first time I was able to see those marvellous eyes, staring right though me.

I suddenly thought of the sun.

"I shall not dishonour my father's name, sir, nor shall I go against his wish," a deep toned voice came out of her lips.

I've heard her whisper her name, but my consciousness was coming back. I was being sucked out of this dream…

I choked a mouthful of air, as I tried to recall her name on the depths of my mind.

I opened my eyes.

Sunset rays penetrated my eyelids and I felt my pupils constrict. Pain radiated from the corner of my forehead, as I felt blood coming out of it.

I was knocked unconscious for almost five hours.

Beside me was the lieutenant colonel I've spoken with before I got shot down. He lay on the pile of rubble -dead in the cold afternoon.

I stayed on the ground for a while, absorbing everything that transpired from this encounter but I couldn't remember everything fully, except that piece of cloth which I still feel between my hands.

Is the battle over?

I wasn't even certain if I'm still alive. But the noises have dwindled. No explosions, no gunfire.

I could almost here nothing, except my own breath…

The sky…

I was staring at the vast blood-stained sky.

Nostalgia struck me once again...

It was the day before I left for the army, and we were resting beneath the plum trees. Her head nestled on my lap, with her eyes closed.

"Will you come back?"

"Of course I will," I absentmindedly replied. I was preoccupied with feeling her hair spilled against my skin. And then I gazed at the indigo-coloured sky.

"If I don't return, you'll have everything I own for yourself," I pledged.

"The house?"

"Yes, the house…"

"And the farm?"

"Yes…"

"The plum trees will be waiting…"

"Really?" I laughed.

"If you don't return, the wine will be sour and…"

"And?"

She said nothing. I didn't tell her the truth, that I joined the army to escape our marriage. But then I was never ready to send her away, back to her father.

"We'll get married, when I come back," I finished.

Still, she didn't say anything.

White plum petals floated with the soft breeze and some settled onto her pale skin.

She stood up and looked at me.

I was gazing at those eyes once more.

"Tell me Athrun, will you come back?"

Remembering her amidst the chaos of this battlefield, I knew I already have the answer.

"Of course, I will… I will!" I shouted.

And then, there were tears.

I cried, and then after realizing that it was stupid to cry over a girl when I'm already dying, I laughed.

I must have gone crazy. I could still feel the throbbing pain on my forehead.

Desperation and regret, those were my emotions.

"I will come back, Cagalli," I muttered. Then I closed my eyes once more,anticipating my doom.

But as soon as I finished my monologue, I felt something being pointed against my head.

"Stand up," a voice ordered.

It took a while for the command to sink in, but then I couldn't possibly retaliate. I awkwardly stood up and immediately tucked the cloth beneath my sleeve. Then raised both my hands.

"Don't worry I'm not an enemy," the voice declared.

I turned and saw a man wearing a flying suit, a life vest, and a prayer belt.

A kamikaze pilot – I assumed.

"I came here to save you..."

"Kira Yamato," he said, while extending his arm to me.

I too, introduced myself to him.

"I believe you have something with you.." he said meaningfully.

He must have seen it, I thought.

"Could you take me to your officer?" I diverted.

He paused for a while. He got a pack of cigarettes, lit one with his left hand, while holding the revolver with his right.

"We have no more officers my friend. All the troupes have been taken away as prisoners."

He offered the cigarette to me. I took one and smoked.

Then my head throbbed once again.

"You're losing blood. We'd better get out of here and have that fixed," he remarked while pointing at my blasted forehead.

"Where are they taking the prisoners?" I asked.

"To Sapporo I guess," Kira replied.

He went to the dead man lying a few feet from us.

"He's an intelligence officer." He lit one cigar and laid it on the corpse.

Then he turned to me.

"We have to go and deliver that message from the Lieutenant. We're good as dead if we don't."

AN: This is an original story. I have used GSD characters, but it's not about GSD. All accounts about WWII are fictional. The scenarios here are independent of what happened in History and I'm not Japanese, so pardon me if you find incorrect details.

Now, I appreciate if you drop some reviews…