It would not be a peaceful death. Akito watched him cough up blood, at the same time as he mumbled prayers over his red lips. Then the prayers stopped, heaving groans taking their place, not dissimilar from those made by a dying animal. Yet, in spite of the horrible scene playing out right in front of him, Akito was distant. After all, he had seen men die before. There was nothing exceptional in the way this one thrashed and turned about, pleading for it to stop, eyes filling with desperate wishes, for things to have turned out just a little differently, for anything but death. Akito was lost in imagining himself in Duncan's place, that was his name. Only moments ago Akito had stood right at Duncan's side when the bullet had ripped through him, opening a fist-sized hole in his chest. There was, however, no fear in the thought of this, instead Akito felt a familiar buzz beneath his skin. Fate had chosen for him to survive.
Duncan finally died. Akito unclipped his ammunition packs and explosives, and added them to his own. He wondered if he should have said something in those final moments. He vaguely remembered a photo Duncan had shown him of a plump young woman; maybe he could have mentioned her. The sound of cannon-fire splintering a tree in two vanished the notion from his mind.
Akito swiveled, located the tank and fired. The bullet barely left a scratch, but the point had been to get its attention. The tank crew saw him—a lone vulnerable soldier—and they adjusted their cannon. Akito sprinted straight for them, curving his path slightly to the right, only to then veer back to his left. They adjusted quickly, but Akito was quicker, and the distance between them was closing. They fired, more out of frustration than anything. The shell flew past Akito as he ran. He didn't flinch. He knew exactly what he was doing. The tank crew had been instructed to destroy enemy vehicles in retreat. It hadn't been hard to distract their attention.
The tank fired again. It missed. Akito reached his target. Without hesitation, he leapt onto the tank, clambering up its massive metal body. He heard the hatch before he saw it. His eyes darted to find the location of the sound. There was only a few fleeting moments left before a soldier burst out with killing intent. Akito saw his chance and in one smooth motion, unclipped a grenade and threw it. It carved a path through the air, through the slim opening of hatch, and into the tank. There would be no moment of realization for the men inside. The explosion was near instantaneous. The blast flung the hatch wide open. Akito wasted no time. He dropped himself inside.
All the men, six in total, were covered in bloody holes from the shrapnel inside the grenade. Akito thought for a moment none had survived, but no movement—no matter how slight—evaded his ears. He spun around, landing his foot into the man's hand as he reached for his gun. There was the sound of bones breaking. Akito already had his own pistol in his hand, his finger millimeters from the trigger. But he hesitated.
"You made a mistake," he said, in Russian.
The man opened his mouth, but only blood came out.
"You thought you could stop me. But I cannot be stopped." Then he killed him.
Before the man hit the floor, Akito was already locating the engines and then from there estimated where the fuel tank might be. With the strength of a man twice his size, he wrenched open a floor panel with the spike on his rifle. In between the pipes and wires, he packed every last one of his explosives and slid the panel back into place.
Next he put the tank into reverse. He felt it grumble into motion. Then he increased the speed. He heard the roar of the engines.
On the long climb back to the roof of the tank, his lips moved like a restless ocean: "This is not my end. This is not my end."
He climbed out. She rose up before him. Above the tree line, her red metal body reached monstrous heights. Though she had no eyes, he felt her gaze burning down upon him. The flags of Euro Britannia waved in the wind on her top. The enemy command center. And he was headed straight for it. At least, he had the sense to go no nearer.
Akito threw himself from the tank. His flight was short, hitting the ground with a tumble that would have taken the wind out of any man, but Akito was back on his feet without a pause for breath. He did not run, instead he turned, just in time to see his tank plough through a platoon of enemy soldiers. Some managed to get out of the way in time; some did not. The command center's response was shift. The tank collided with another that had parked itself in its way. It revved angrily. The other tank started to skid in the loose earth. Then with the screech of metal on metal, it pushed past, veering slightly to the left, but still moving forward. The command center was still unwilling to unleash its firepower and destroy its own tank.
With less than 100 meters left, another tank, thrice its size, rammed it from the side, sending it skidding to a halt. Akito accepted that it was far enough. He pressed down on the device, held safely in his grip.
The explosion engulfed the two tanks. Its fireball ascended, obscuring the command center from view. It was a long few moments before the flames and the smoke settled, revealing the true scale of the destruction in a landscape grey and lifeless. The command center was unscathed, but the surrounding vehicles, medical bays, armories, supply transports and the like, were all ashen skeletons.
Now Akito turned back. He started to run, rifle poised at the ready. The Euro Britannian soldiers only moments before had been hunting their enemy like prey, now they staggered to a halt; all had heard the explosion deep behind their own lines. They hesitated, waiting for orders that didn't come. The last thing they expected was Akito from their rear.
He did not need accuracy, spraying bullets into them, gone by the time the survivors could muster a response. As unit after unit fell before Akito, dread was now a contagion that crippled their advancing lines, sending men running in retreat. But he did not stop. He had no reason to. They could not stop him.
(new scene)
"What fucking god blessed him," grumbled an injured soldier to his companion.
"I'd say the god of death. What is it now? Over four hundred to his name."
"I just say my prayers that we're not the ones who have to fight him."
"I guess so."
Their words barely penetrated Akito's attention, for he had heard similar many times before. They spoke his name with contempt and mistrust. Any so-called brotherhood between soldiers was not extended to him. Yet Akito expected nothing different; he was Japanese and they European. They knew why they were there: to protect their homeland, their state and their way of life; they did not know why he was there.
Akito continued through the camp. Many a man had thought himself destined for death's embrace; now he could not help but catch a glimpse of his savior. He would never thank Akito, but his gaze of both fear and reverence was sufficient. Akito found himself straightening his posture and walking with brisker steps. He almost allowed himself a smile.
Then the thought came, so intense that it formed itself on his lips: "Now do you regret sending me into exile? Japan could have used as fine a soldier as me." Instantly he hated himself for it. His father was dead and he would not allow himself to gloat over his memory.
Before he knew it, he reached his destination. He thought he had prepared himself for this, clearing his mind and gathering his confidence, but now he was scattered, thoughts of the past breaking through the dam he had built for them. Above all, there was his mother. He remembered the feeling of her embrace before he boarded the plane.
Akito forced his mind to blackness. With great effort, he made the final step into the Colonel's tent.
"As summoned." Akito saluted.
The man was aristocratic, but his years of soldiering had hardened him. The men said his gaze was like a burning cauldron hungry for souls. But Akito did not look away.
"I have received word from London," he said. "You are to leave tonight. You will know more in due course."
The words struck Akito with their suddenness and finality. He opened his mouth. He wanted to say something, but he did not know what. He had run through a thousand conversations, but how could he have expected this.
"Why?" was all he managed.
The Colonel knew how to impose an uncomfortable silence and said nothing.
Akito grasped at a conversation thread that he could use and forced his mouth to open again. "There is no need for me to return to London. I will accept my honors here."
He chuckled. It was a cruel sound. "You are mistaken. It is not honor that awaits you in London. It has nothing to do with your show today."
Akito pressed on regardless. "I understand. I see. But is there anything else that I should be informed of before I leave?"
"That is all," he said, with a grin.
"Then I have to ask whether it was necessary to summon me." He did his best to keep his temper from sounding in his words.
The Colonel sat comfortably, allowing the silence to settle and his smile to broaden. "It is quite simple really. Because I enjoy seeing the look of disappointment on your face, Akito. You possess the exceptional delusion that sooner or later the world will bow down at your feet. As your superior, it is my duty to remind you that you are nothing, a disposable soldier and no more."
Akito's fists turned bone white. "I am so much more than an ordinary soldier. If the enemy had broken our line today, we would have lost a hundred miles or more. I deserve recognition for what I did and for what I have done these past 3 years."
"You will not get it from me. Now leave."
Akito turned and was gone. It was a small comfort, but nonetheless he was glad that he had not begged. He carried his father's name and he would not disgrace it.
(new scene)
A soldier with some rank would at least have had a military car drive him to the airport. They left Akito at the nearest train station. They were in the heart of Romania and no ticket seller was going to speak a word of English. He was too exhausted to remember the Russian words, so instead he simply pointed in the direction of Bucharest; that was enough to get him a ticket and on the next train.
The few passengers barely noticed the soldier on board. They were used to war. Only a young child couldn't take his eyes off Akito. He asked his grandmother something in Romanian; she said nothing.
"Why is a Japanese wearing an EU soldier's uniform?" Maybe something like that, though Akito figured the boy didn't have any notion of a distant island nation. It only made Akito consider the boy's age, with the realization that he probably wasn't 5 yet, which meant that he wasn't old enough to even know Japan; his world had only a conquered country bearing the lifeless name of Area 11.
In spite of himself, Akito tried to smile at the boy, wishing that he could have given him an answer. But even if he spoke Romanian, there was no answer to give.
As he settled into his seat, the memory of childhood train trips with his family flashed before his eyes. Suddenly, opposite him, a child as content as could be stood up on his seat, with hands pressed to the glass; he was watching the scenery blur by, thrilled by the speed of the train. Akito followed the child's gaze, but night had fallen and outside there was only darkness. The train rumbled along. The child was gone.
Remembering the letter, which had been handed to him only after arriving at the train station, Akito thought now was as good a time as any to open it. It was indeed from London, but what Akito had not expected was to see a parliamentary seal. A small hope flickered somewhere inside of him, but Akito had learned by now to ignore such feelings. He broke the seal and started to read.
(new scene)
"Do you know of the soldier Hyuga Akito?" Katherine asked her father one day over lunch.
Her question was casual, but there was no disguising the intent behind it. Anyone who followed the news knew of Hyuga Akito. With one astonishing feat on the battlefield after another, he had become an object of mystery that journalists were all too willing to attempt to untangle. Even though Akito himself said nothing of his personal life, it was impossible for him to keep his past out of their articles, for he was the son of Hyuga Hiroto, the last Defense Minister of Japan.
"I knew his father," Kaoru said, finally. "We went to school together."
Katherine, of course, knew this, for it was the reason she had come to her father about this matter.
"However," he continued, "if you wish me to speak on Akito, I have few words; he and his father bear little in common. Hyuga deeply loved his people and wished for nothing more than to protect them. His son, on the other hand, fits any definition of a misanthrope." Her father's words were cold as they never usually were.
"Have you been following what is happening in the camps?" asked Katherine, as though her question was related. Her first attempt to broad her father's walls had failed. She had to change tact.
Kaoru considered her question longer than he needed to. "I have."
"I feel that finally, now as a MP, I have some power to make a difference."
"It is best that you stick to your party's line," her father said, without a breath.
"My party has no line, no policies; that is the problem," she snapped at her father, surprising herself. "As it has been since the beginning, they think if they wait long enough, the problem will go away." Without pausing to think how to phrase it so as to make it more tolerable for her father, Katherine went on. "I have a proposal that could solve everything. But I need Akito."
Katherine quickly continued before her father's bemused face started making angry noises. "I believe that Akito can convince the Japanese refugees to serve in the military. If they serve, then I can make the argument to grant them citizenship, but not only for them, their families as well. If enough serve, then the camps will begin to empty and-"
"They will not serve." Kaoru's words were final.
It was Katherine's instinct to protest, but the look on her father brought her to silence. After a time, she managed to feebly string a few words together. "That is why I want Akito. Maybe he could convince them."
"My daughter," he rarely said it like that, "you do not understand the Japanese people. I blame myself for your blindness, but it was my desire to shelter you that made it this way. I didn't want you to carry our pain in your heart. I wanted a new life for you here in England."
"Don't you see?" Katherine said, almost angry. "That is what I am fighting for, to give the Japanese people a new life."
"I have already told you. You do not understand. You cannot understand. There can be no such life for them here."
Katherine was angry now. "That simply isn't true. How could you say that? If they could only gain citizenship, then Britain could become a home."
Her father would have objected again. But Katherine rose to her feet, defiantly. "I refuse to sit idle as they suffer in those camps. It is time that they have a future. They deserve more than their broken past."
(new scene)
Akito had informed her that his plane would arrive in London at 6 in the evening and he had requested transport from the airport. Now there she stood at the airport, waiting for the infamous Hyuga Akito. She didn't need a placard; she would recognize him, though he wouldn't her. Only early that day, she had thought with her presence, she could demonstrate her respect for him, but now, she felt childish; he would expect no more than taxi, and yet there she was.
Katherine's eyes drifted; the news on the mounted television screen showed long lines of Japanese waiting hopelessly for their daily portion after it had been denied them several days in a row. She was glad to see that the situation wasn't being ignored, but this only made her question why her first thought hadn't been for the suffering Japanese themselves.
"Ms Igawa?"
She turned, thinking that a journalist had spotted her, already coming up with reasons for why she was at the airport.
She froze. He stood there in front of her. For a moment, it was hard to recognize him in civilian clothes. There was a softness to him. Loose-fitting clothes obscured his athletic frame. His eyes bore no traces of ferocity, only the dark shadows of sleeplessness. Like any human after a long journey, his hair was unkempt, only held down by a last minute application of water. Most of all, he smiled. In all the videos, all the photos, Katherine had never seen him smile. It was only a small polite smile, but it melted away any lingering fear of him as a heartless soldier, one whose deeds were terrible crimes if not performed on a battlefield.
"Yes, I am Katherine Igawa," she managed after a long moment.
He nodded his head with a slight bow. "And I am Hyuga Akito. Thank you for coming yourself to greet me. It is very considerate of you. I would say that I didn't expect it, but in fact I expected nothing less from you, Ms Igawa."
His charm was disarming. The sound of her name on his lips ran circles in her head. "How could you say such a thing?" She wanted to dismiss the compliment as quickly as possible. "You don't even know me."
A faint look of confusion passed over his face. "How could I not know of the first Japanese member of Parliament?"
As he spoke the word, that word, he held her gaze for a time too long for strangers. All her life, her father had told her she was not Japanese, that even though she had his blood and his looks, it was her mother after whom she took. Long ago, she had given up asking for him to teach her Japanese. He never willing spoke to her of his past life in Japan; rather, she only caught glimpses, pieced together from his academic writings. But still, she longed to know Japan and perhaps to feel a part of it. Now, it seemed as though Akito was offering her his hand and inviting her into his world.
She had forgotten to say something, so Akito spoke for her.
"We are both notable people, but I do not hesitate to say your reputation is in much better shape than mine. Let us keep it that," he said, with an almost teasing smile. "If we are seen together in public like this, I dare not imagine the salacious stories they could write."
She blushed and nodded. With only mumbled words, she started to lead him to the vehicle that awaited them.
Upon reaching the car, it did not surprise Katherine at all that Akito stopped and opened the door for her. After they were both inside, she had finally found her words.
"Before anything else, I want to ask for your thoughts on the bill I will put forward in Parliament. Is there anything you are opposed to?" She paused, struggling over the word. "Do you think it will benefit the Japanese refugees in Britain?"
Akito spoke with hardly a moment's pause, as though he had already prepared his answer. "Among the refugees from the invasion, few have been as fortunate as myself. I had a powerful father and he had powerful friends in the EU, and my citizenship was granted without struggle or sacrifice. I have served the EU well. I have done so with the hope that my example could show them the value of the Japanese people. Though we are not all soldiers, we are still a skilled and hardworking people. If only they would grant the refugees citizenship, then would they not benefit? However, even after all that I have done on the battlefield, the refugees are still confined to the camps, as their talents and spirits waste away." At that moment, he looked directly into Katherine's eyes. "When I read your letter, hope returned to my heart. I know I have failed, but that no longer matters, for I believe that now you will succeed. I do not wish to see Japanese boys and girls serving in the European military, but I agree with you that this is the only way."
"Yes," said Katherine, eagerly. "It will be voluntary, of course. The bill currently stipulates a minimum of 5 years of service to gain citizenship for themselves and their family, but I will try to reduce that to 4 years if I can."
This seemed to please Akito, because his smile reached his eyes. The words started to tumble out of Katherine's mouth now.
"I have attained permission for you to visit five of the largest refugee camps in Britain. It will not just be to visit though; I want you to speak in front of them. It will be up to you to convince them that this proposal can secure them a better future. I know this may be daunting. I don't know if you have spoken in public like this before. If you need, I can help you write your speech."
"There is no need for you to worry. I have already decided what I will say."
(new scene)
When they arrived at the camp the following day, Katherine knew she could never had expected it. It seemed every last person in the camp had flocked to the tall fences, forming a crowd around the entrance gate, as they awaited Hyuga Akito.
It was not riotous, though the guards stood at attention. The crowd was still, but their eagerness was palpable; it could be heard in their hushed whispers, seen in their gazes that lingered over each passing car, hoping that inside there would be Akito.
Katherine looked at Akito then, before they stepped out. He was completely calm, as though he had been preparing for exactly this for a long time. She wanted to say something, but he was already opening the door. Then he was gone. For a moment, she hesitated, with the realization that her presence wasn't needed; she thought how she had visited this camp a number of times before, but never had anyone waited for her coming. She swallowed her pride and stepped out after Akito.
He had already put some distance between them, with his long strides and soldier's gait. In his military uniform, he had transformed, upright and proud, impenetrable and cold. But when she heard his voice, she could feel the love he bore for his people. He greeted them in booming Japanese. In unison, they welcomed him.
The whole scene had captured the attention of journalists. They now rushed to Akito's side, holding out their microphones. But he ignored them as a lion would flies. Katherine reached him in a half-run and raised her voice to remind the journalists that they would not be granted permission to enter the camp today. She had thought that Akito would appreciate her intervention, but he ignored her too. All she could do was nod at the guards, who opened the gates. Akito strode forward.
None were alike in how they greeted Akito. Some wanted to stand as equals and shake his hand. Others lifted his hand to kiss it. There were those who stood at a distance but still bowed their head low in respect. Some fell at his feet and wailed prayers in his name. Some even embraced him. Akito accommodated all of them. He rose to the occasion like a bird ascending on the wind.
Katherine stood back, detached from the scene before her. An impulse inside of her wanted to intervene and remind them all that she had organized this meeting. It was her bill that would free them from this place. She almost resented Akito in that moment, for capturing their hearts in a way she never could, but then she saw him; even through all the commotion, she found his eyes as they shone and how their brightness spread out from him like a beacon, affecting all in his vicinity. Perhaps, in some way, he was destined for this.
Yet her ambivalence returned as he gave his speech. She had lulled herself into believing that it would be in English, but of course he spoke to his people in their language. At first, she listened with all her attention, but the words slipped past her without comprehension, again and again; his meaning was lost to her. It was not lost to his Japanese audience. They hung on his every word and he led them artfully to wherever he wanted.
From her place on the side, she watched him. She had been tutored in public speaking, but all those lessons fell away before his example. During her campaign, she had spoken like a politician. A young, bright politician, who spoke hopefully of the future, but a politician nonetheless. Akito was of a different breed entirely. One could bring to mind those populist politicians, who appealed to thoughtless emotion. Yet even though she could not understand him, she knew he was not performing their tricks and using their fallacies. He spoke with an honesty and passion that came from the deepest part of his heart.
Afterwards, he returned to her. He did not attempt to conceal the satisfaction from his face. He brimmed with it. Katherine barely knew him, but somehow she knew that this was the most contented he had been in a long time.
Though he had had many words for his Japanese audience—he had talked for almost an hour, he had little to say to her.
"I believe it went well, very well."
Katherine forced a smile. "I am pleased."
"I am ready to go to the next camp."
They spoke no more. They returned to the vehicle.
When they arrived, Akito didn't ask whether she wished to join him, so this time she simply got out of the car to nod at the guards and then she returned to the car.
She sat there in cold silence, allowing her thoughts to further sullen her mood.
"What did I expect?" Katherine snapped at herself, only realizing she had spoken aloud when the driver shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
The silence quickly returned. The hour passed slowly and painfully. She longed to stand up there beside Akito and become a leader for them. She imagined herself listening to their hopes and their fears; she imagined herself reassuring them and promising that change would come, for she would make it come. She could be their leader, if only she spoke Japanese, if only one look at her did not give away her Western upbringing, if only she had not lived a life of comfort and ease, maybe then she could know the pain in their hearts. She resigned herself to be the organizer behind the scenes. After all, they already had their leader. They had Akito.
Akito opened the door and slipped inside. He still had the gleam in his eyes. However, this time, he had something to say.
"I have been thinking. In order for this bill to pass, it is essential to evidence support among the Japanese refugees themselves. Of course, you could talk of the success of these visits, but I believe that if it came from me, it would carry greater weight. After all, I am the one who is speaking to them. If you agree to this, I am sure I can convince Parliament that many Japanese will enlist."
"Would you like to speak in front of Parliament as a stakeholder for this bill?" It barely felt like a question on her lips. She felt herself already agreeing to it. How could she refuse?
"I would."
(new scene)
After the visits, Katherine had not seen Akito. She wasn't sure if it was her or him that kept at a distance. She knew she should have checked with Akito what he would say in Parliament, but an unfamiliar apathy had settled inside of her. It felt simple to hand the reigns over to him. Was he not more capable?
After she had informed Wilson, the head of her party, of the success of Akito's visits, she had found her name moved down the list of the bill's co-authors. Wilson was now on the top. This had frustrated her, for the idea had been hers alone; she had been the one who had talked with the generals for their consent, who had searched the archives for legal precedent, who had calculated the economic benefit for Britain. But her frustration only transformed into self-hatred in her chest. With Wilson as main author, the bill had the greatest chance of passing. How could she resent this?
As she sat now in her seat in Parliament, she felt nothing. She watched the world at a distance. It all felt beyond her ability to influence. It simply existed. And she simply watched. The bill was introduced by Wilson. He talked for a time. There were murmurings among both parties. This was significant and it was bold, for even as the condition of Japanese refugees worsened, no solution had been put forward, until now.
And then, it was Akito's time to speak. He emerged in full military attire. He was but a private, but he carried himself like a general. He was only 21, but he compelled the chamber into silence with his presence.
"Honorable men and women of Parliament," Akito began. Even his words felt dull in Katherine's head. After all, she knew what he would say. He would praise the bill for its solution to end the suffering of the Japanese refugees. He would surely talk about his own experience in the military and the value of Japanese soldiers. He would say how the Japanese responded very well to his message. He would perhaps end with a call to vote for the bill, saying that this would benefit both the British people and the Japanese refugees.
"This bill is selling you a lie." Akito's words rung out through the chamber, lastly reaching Katherine's ears. She could barely comprehend it and before she could think, Akito pushed on. "It is the lie of a loyal Japanese European citizen. Today I was called upon to evidence such a kind of citizen. But do I not have reason to be loyal? I came to Europe willing and I was given a home here, a good education, and the opportunity to fulfill my talents. I am nothing like the Japanese refugees who are the subject of this bill. They did not choose this distant land as their home. Rather, after the invasion, they found shelter in Asia, only to be harassed and eventually forced to leave by the Chinese Federation. It was only then that they came to Europe. But are they grateful for the EU's decision to allow them to enter? They are not. They believed the hearsay that the EU would grant them citizenship at the border, that there would be a new house waiting for them when they arrived in Paris, Berlin or London. Instead, they have lingered in camps for year after year. This bill would grant them citizenship at the price of military service. The Japanese are still a proud people; under such conditions, they will not serve."
"Is there any solution?" asked someone. There was a strange silence, as though Akito was making them wait, but they waited, for they wanted to know. None waited more anxiously than Katherine. She still held out hope that Akito would make this right.
"I propose this. All Japanese between the ages of 18 and 26 must be conscripted into the military for 10 years of service, only after which they will be granted citizenship. All other Japanese should be returned to Area 11."
The silence struck like lightning from the heavens. It seemed that no one dare speak. Then Katherine was on her feet. She was angry, filled with hatred, not for herself, but rather with a clear direction outward. She stared down at Akito and she spoke the only words that could express what she felt: "What you propose is criminal. It is absurd. It could never pass through this house."
"Please return to your seat, Ms Igawa," spoke the Speaker, and there were calls of agreement from her colleagues.
Akito did not even acknowledge her, only nodded his thanks to the Speaker, then he continued. "I understand that there may be some concern over what I say, but if you will allow me, I will justify taking such measures."
The Speaker allowed it, but he didn't need to, for no one else would have stopped him. They wanted this. Katherine could see it in their attentive eyes and their eager nods. It would bring an end to the Japanese problem in an instant, and who could accuse them of racism when it was a Japanese who proposed the very bill.
"The original proposal would have enabled almost all Japanese to attain citizenship after only 5 years. Can Britain afford this? It has been correctly noted that many are skilled and educated, this is true, but they cannot become doctors or lawyers with such poor English. This is not to mention the sizeable elderly population that needs services, which are already overburdened. But they cannot remain in the camps. I have spoken with them and they would prefer an occupied Japan to a refugee camp. Area 11 will accept them as it has done with other Japanese refugees. I should remind you that this does not break with EU refugee law, for they fled Japan because of war; it is time that they return now that Area 11 is at peace.
"Why not send those of soldiering age back with their families? The answer is obvious. Unlike their parents or their younger siblings, they are not innocent in Britannia's eyes. They have spent too long in Europe. For all Britannia knows, we have trained them to fight and are now sending them back to start an insurgency. It is both to our advantage and theirs for them to stay behind. They will serve in the military for 10 years and in that time, they will become loyal European citizens. It is only then that they should be granted citizenship."
Katherine could not believe what she was hearing. She had thought 5 years was too long, eating up too much of their young lives. 10 years would destroy them. 10 years would do nothing to prepare them for joining European society; they would have nothing after those 10 years, and then they would be starting a new life without even family to support them. And yet, no one protested, how could they protest being handed fresh slave soldiers to fight in their continual war.
Akito had more to say. "However, I must say it again. The Japanese are still a proud people. Many will not willing fight for a foreign power. For this reason, I propose that they serve under my command." Akito allowed his words to sit there, so none could mistake them. "Only I can understand their pride and shame, and thus I am the only one who is capable of turning them into loyal soldiers. Under another's command, they will have no reason to fight, no reason to risk their lives, perhaps they would even mutiny, but with me as their commander, with their countrymen at their side in battle, they will see no path but the one to victory. I humbly request promotion to the rank of Colonel and be given command of an entirely Japanese force."