Captivated
Okay, guys, I swear this one is just a oneshot. I'm really sorry that I haven't had much time to update my other stories and some people have already messaged me privately asking when I will continue. From here on now, I'm hoping to go back to writing. It's just that I got addicted to some Android games and it's crazy I couldn't get my juices flowing. Clash of Clans and Samurai Siege. To anyone who plays them, you know what I'm talking about. Damn addictive games. I'm trying to lessen my playing time so I can go back to my other activities. I'm on a withdrawal period right now. So I'm rehabilitating myself.
Anyway, just a warning: this fic is kinda angsty and dark. AAAAND it has a rape theme. First time I'm doing this. Naturally the rapist will be branded as an asshole. But I'm kinda hoping to turn that around. So again, you have been warned. I still am hoping that you would like my story.
By the way, I've always wanted to write an AU about World War II. And I'm from the Philippines so I guess it's the best setting for my story. I'm trying not to be prejudiced or anything. I have nothing against Japanese or Americans. I'm in love with both countries. I have worked for both in my career. But, this is just history.
And an unlikely story of love.
So please no bashing okay? I'm not taking sides with any country. You can say my imagination is really just very wild. Tee hee hee.
Anyway, it's so hard to use the perspective of a Japanese while being in my country. It's hard to be unbiased. But I hope I'd do it with justice.
Arigatou gozaimasu, minna-san!
00xxxx00
Japan 1995
It's the aki season. It's the season I love the most. Not too cold and not too humid either. It's also the harvesting season for my favorite fruit, persimmon, as their skins turn to orange, symbolizing the color of autumn.
I am a poor farmer in a small province. I live with another poor farmer in a small cottage. We have a bit of land where we grow some satsuma-imo, or sweet potatoes, persimmon and matsutake mushroom. We harvest them during this time and sell them to markets. We make enough to last us till the summer season, when we could grow summer crops as well.
It is a very quiet life, but not one without hardships. I am seventy two years old now and cannot move as fast as I could when the situation called for it. The other farmer whom I live with is much bigger and stronger than me, but he's also in his seventies. He does things better and faster though old age has slowed him down as well. But oh well, without him, I know I will not survive this farming industry.
This morning I got up around six in the morning. My body hasn't needed a clock ever since I can remember. I've been farming for over thirty years. As usual I lay alone on the futon. I got up to do my morning absolutions, then headed to our little kitchen.
As I was boiling water for tea, my oldest friend, business partner and my housemate came through the door, carrying a small sack of persimmon he picked up. He was a very old man but I could still see how easily he carried the weight of the fruits. "Ohayou. Have some tea," I said.
He looked at me and nodded, then went on his way to pack the persimmon for delivery. Aah, he's always been like that. He's a very quiet old man. His hair color used to be so vibrant in his youth, now it was mostly white.
Later we had breakfast and he said goodbye to do the deliveries. Over the years, we have saved up enough to buy an old truck that we now use to deliver the potatoes, mushroom and persimmon to the market. He usually drove alone, leaving me to tend to the house and to the crops.
We quietly went on our business. He left with our goods and I ended up cleaning the house and doing some harvesting myself.
By early evening I was tired. But I had to cook dinner. So I began cooking.
I sat for bit while I was waiting for the food to cook. As I sat on the tatami floor, massaging my weary shoulder, my eyes caught sight of a picture frame on our small dresser that held a black and white photo I knew so well.
I stood and reached for the picture frame, then traced my fingers on the smooth glass surface of it. Aah, such nostalgia. This photo was taken some fifty years ago. It was a picture of a group of soldiers, back in the Second World war. And I was one of them.
Yes, I once belonged to the Imperial Army of Japan that swept like a hurricane through the pacific.
I looked at all the faces of the young smiling men of the photo, reliving my memories with my troop. Half of these men were already dead by now, because of the war. Some who had survived, I have not heard any news of.
Except for one.
The tallest young man at the back, who looked back defiantly at the camera. This is a black and white photo so the lens did not capture how green his eyes were, and how effervescent they were when they were filled with emotion.
His eyes have always been beautiful to me. Haunting. Enchanting.
I have been captivated ever since the first time I saw them.
Wistfully, I sighed at my memories. I could still remember…
Xx0000xxxx
Japan early 40's
When the United States of America required Japan to evacuate China, Japan did not agree with the decision. Instead, the small country with a powerful army prepared for war.
Boys from all over the country were mandated to join the fighting. I had only turned eighteen at that time and as much as I would love to help my father with work, I couldn't. I was required to enlist for the army. I was afraid at first, after all I was only a country boy who knew fishing all his young life, what did I know about being a soldier?
I remembered my mother weeping quietly as I left our house to go to the pick-up location, where our superiors would pick up the rookie soldiers.
Honestly, I thought I wouldn't be coming back alive. And my mother probably knew it too. My father only stared stoically faraway.
The first thing I learned in barracks training was that there were different kinds of hell in this lifetime. It was hell when we ate, it was hell when my superiors made us do work outs that nearly crippled us. It felt like hell breathing in our training camp.
There were a lot of young boys that were getting recruited day by day. Some even looked about ready to cry at the drop of a pin. They were frightened. We all were. Even if I had stayed in this camp for a couple of months I still couldn't shake away the feeling of dread whenever I thought about being deployed in the battlefield.
One day as my platoon was preparing for an exercise, we noticed a group of new recruits. Again, they all looked horribly young. The first person that caught my eye was the tall young man who stayed at the back of the group. He was even wearing glasses. At this distance I shouldn't have noticed, but I still did.
He had the richest greenest of eyes that I had seen first time in my life. I didn't know such hue existed. I stopped on my track just to stare more openly, captivated by the color. Then the young tall man looked at me and turned away.
It was confirmed. His eyes were the most dazzling of greens.
I shook my head, trying to clear away the baffling thoughts. What was up with me and his eyes, anyway? That was a first time that I openly gazed at another man in adoration. It intrigued me and scared me out of my wits. I decided not to think too much about it and move on.
The second time I had the chance to see him again, it was not in the best of situations. Again, my troop was preparing for our riffle training and the new recruits were lined up, being drilled by our superiors. It seemed that one of the smallest guys in this group was crying because he couldn't take the way the commander was yelling at him. The little guy broke down in tears. The next scene was something that I had gotten used to these past few months.
The superior backhanded the young man. The other boys in the line flinched but did not show any other reaction lest they get the brunt of the commander's anger.
"You sniveling little piece of shit! You are weak!" yelled the lieutenant and slapped the young man once again. I sighed. It was pretty much a standard procedure. Honestly, how could these boys go out into the battlefield with the sole intent of killing our enemies when they cried over trivial matters? Really, I felt sad for the kid, but this was the real world, whether we liked it or not.
This was not some game. This was war. Everyone should learn how to toughen up. I turned away and tried to get rid of the scene in my head when suddenly I heard a commotion of a different sort.
I turned back. Horrified, I found the tall young man, the one with green eyes actually gripping the wrist of our commander stopping him from furthermore assaulting the little man. It was the scene of the century. There was a collective gasp on the area as everyone was shocked to find a newbie challenging a superior this way.
"What are you doing, cadet Midorima?" roared the officer.
Against my wishes I found myself walking nearer to the scene. My heart was thumping wildly inside my chest. So his name was Midorima. What a stupid fool! What was he thinking challenging the authority of our lieutenant like this? Did he want to get beaten up to a bloody pulp?
His voice was very low, but very clear. "Sir, please. He's my buddy. He has anxiety problems. He cannot take people shouting at him."
"Sh-shouting at him? I cannot believe this! How would you expect to infiltrate the enemy camps with panic attacks like this? You don't have a fucking clue how serious the situation is, do you!?"
I wanted to ask the same thing as I got nearer. I expected Midorima to see the point and apologize. And then of course the lieutenant would give him a penalty for his defiance.
Instead, Midorima let go of the officer's wrist. "I'll take his place, Sir. If you need to slap someone I can be it."
Our officer got even angry. "You fool! You do not even get the point. I need soldiers in this camp, not crying children."
"He can't help it! He's only a child!" Midorima roared back, looking down defiantly.
That did it.
Midorima should have known what was going to happen after that incident. And for someone who seemed bright, he probably knew. He was taken away by other officers, while his buddy tried his best to stop crying for Midorima's sake.
The whole ground grew quiet after that. It was truly the first time we had seen a trainee come up to his officer and publicly defy his authority. It was like death sentence.
I didn't know why but it suddenly became hard for me to breathe.
After that I didn't hear about what happened to the unlucky bastard for the whole day. There were rumors that he had been killed and thrown off the mountains. No one would probably find his body anywhere.
It got me depressed. Sure he was stupid. But all he did was care about his simpering little buddy and tried to protect him. After all, that was what being a soldier was for in the first place, right? Protecting your country, family and friends. I felt down the whole day that day, and I didn't know why. I didn't even know Midorima's name before all this and suddenly all I could think about was him and how brave he was to stand up to the commander.
I went to sleep fervently praying that he hadn't been murdered.
The next day, during our break from one of our drills, my group heard of another commotion by the barracks. The barracks belonged to higher ranked privates, ones who had already seen a fight or two and survived them.
"It's him! He's alive!"
"Yeah, he looks like dead on his feet, though."
Suddenly I rushed inside the barracks. And true enough, there was the mighty Midorima, his face obviously beaten, moving so slowly to make each and every bed in the room.
Usually, of course, part of our discipline would be to make sure we clean our bunks the moment we got up in the morning. Which meant the privates in this room were ordered not to clean up so that Midorima would do the cleaning. After he was beaten.
His shoulders were hunched as he folded the blanket slowly, laying it on the bunk. He made an attempt to move to the next bunk. But he swayed, clutching at his hip. He looked hurt and unsteady on his feet. His eyes were closed. I suddenly missed the green colors of them.
Unthinking, I stepped inside the room, attempting to help him on his feet. My buddy pulled me back. "What do you think you're doing? If one of the officers sees you helping him, they'll punish you as well. He's being punished, you know that."
I gritted my teeth in frustration. Then I turned back at Midorima, who looked about ready to faint. I slapped away the hand of my buddy.
Then I went inside the room, amidst all the soldiers gasping.
Midorima didn't look as if he noticed me, so intent he was at focusing on how to stay conscious.
I held his arm gently. He flinched and gasped, too afraid of my touch. "There, there, man. I'm not gonna hurt you. I'll help you with folding some of the blankets. I'm free for the next twenty minutes."
He shook his head. "They'll see you, too."
I shook my head, trying to clear away the images of my superiors beating the crap out of me. "Don't worry about it. Here, can you stand?" I held him by the waist to support his weight. He was so tall the top of my head barely reached his chin.
He swayed again, and this time I got a good look at the bruises on his face. Yep, he was badly beaten, and ordered to clean the barracks. He whispered something, "Can I have some water?"
"Have you eaten since yesterday?"
He shook his head. I shouldn't have been surprised, but I still was and at the back of my head I felt helplessly angered. It was a good thing I had my canteen with me. It was half filled, but at least he could drink something. As I watched him drink the content of my water canteen, I couldn't help but feel angry towards him as well.
"I hope whatever you've been through is all worth it," I grumbled.
He simply glanced at me, with those clear green eyes full of lonely resignation. "It is. I heard from my buddy. It seems that he is going to be sent home because the army cannot do with anyone like him. If his panic attack strikes he may end up killing one of us instead."
I sighed. "What you did was very brave, but very stupid."
To my astonishment, he had the gall to snort at me. "Isn't it what you're doing now?"
"I know my superior's schedule. They won't be here for the next ten minutes or so."
He slowly gave the canteen back to me. "You should go. I can manage here."
"You're ready to fall on your feet," I argued. "Ten minutes. Sit down and I'll clean up as much as I can."
I thought he would do what I said, but he didn't. With a soft growl he pushed me. His strength was pathetic. "No. I will not let them hurt you. My conscience refuses to carry that guilt."
At this close range, even behind his glasses, I could see the enchanting way the light reflected on his eyes. They were very bright and clear, as if shining. I lost the battle right there and then. But before I left I stuck out my hand. "I'm cadet Takao. Takao Kazunari. You're Midorima, I heard."
He simply nodded.
"If there's one guy I want to be out there in the battlefield with, I hope it will be you. You're a decent person man. I know you'll do everything to protect your nakama,"I said with a thick voice.
Again he nodded, slowly pushing his glassed upward on his nose. "Now, go."
That was the start of my friendship with the quiet green haired emerald eyed Midorima. We were always put in different troops so we seldom trained together. We never even had the chance to talk in camp, though when there were free times that we could meet on the ground we would naturally end up huddled together, talking about the lives we left behind.
He talked about his family and his beautiful little sister. I kept on joking that if by some miracle we came out of this war alive, Midorima should seriously consider me as a future brother in law. He would smack the back of my shoulder lightly and tell me I would have to go through his dead body first in order to get to his sister.
He was a very gentle man. One with few words. But you could see the emotions play well on his eyes. I could tell when he was mad, or afraid, just by looking at those two green orbs.
He was also very dependable. A lot of soldiers liked him because he was very hard working and he usually assisted other soldiers in their tasks during his free time. He was loved by everyone.
I admired him. Everything about him you could respect. He had fierce love and loyalty to Japan, and to its people. I was very glad he was my nakama. I knew I could depend on him at all times.
A year passed before I got my first assignment. I was being assigned to some little island called the Philippines. I had never heard of this country before. When I told Midorima, he said he was being assigned there as well.
I didn't know why I felt elated by that idea. Over the year Midorima and I had formed a solid bond. Nothing else made me happier than by going with him to a foreign land on our first assignment.
Xxx000xxxx
Philippines early 40's
It was 1942 when we got deployed to the strange country. It was a tiny one, yet the American influences were great. The whole nation remained loyal to the US and their resistance, called the guerilla movement, was so strong that Japan was having difficulties controlling the forty eight provinces there.
We had solid organization in our attacks, but the Filipino guerillas were getting smuggled weapons from Mac Arthur. We didn't know how. We couldn't pin their locations. We were unfamiliar with their mountains and seas.
After almost six months of occupying the largest island of Luzon, some of the soldiers were losing morale. In retaliation, war crimes increased. People seemed to fight every day. It was easy to turn a blind eye if fellow Japanese were terrorizing the local folks. We were all very angry at this point.
I never hurt anyone, or raped any woman, unlike most of what my fellow soldiers did. But I never lifted any finger to stop them though. For in my opinion, this was a war and this country was our servant. They supported our enemies, therefore they were our enemies, too. One way to be victorious in this war was to make sure they couldn't hurt us enough to defeat us. Sadly though, most of the soldiers committed crimes that even I did not approve of.
Midorima and I would see each other once in a while and would go out for a drink. During those peaceful times, I often wondered why I felt such strong happiness whenever I saw that he was safe and unhurt from the battles with the guerillas and American resistance.
In the mid '44, after almost two years of staying in the sweltering heat of the Philippines, I received news in our base that we lost contact with the troop that was sent to Mindanao. I felt a hard squeeze on my heart. Midorima was in that group. I prayed that their radios just got destroyed, or that those blasted guerillas made another attempt at jamming our lines, which they had gotten very good at, over the years.
But after three days of not having any communication with them, when all our other lines were working fine, I felt sick to my stomach. I hoped. I hoped with all my heart that they were not ambushed or killed. Mindanao was an island too far from where I was.
Everyday without a word from Midorima's troop brought hopelessness in me. If he was dead, then I would do everything in my power to wipe out all the resistance forces till the last of my breath. It was hell each day waking up, not knowing if Midorima was dead or alive.
After a week of suffering, we finally heard from the American captain who held our fellow soldiers captive in Mindanao. They were trying to do a trade for some war prisoners that we had. I couldn't keep still. I didn't know if Midorima was one of those soldiers who were still alive and in captivity.
After all the deliberations and negotiations with the American captain, the trade did finally happen. Our troops would be picked up by our cargo plane from Mindanao, in exchange for a hundred Filipino and American prisoners that we also had in our base.
I could never forget that day as I waited in the base, my heart threatening to burst out of my chest. I still didn't know if Midorima was among the survivors or not.
The soldiers lined up on the ground, waiting for the cargo planes to get down. When it opened, and our disheveled, wounded men came out, we able bodied soldiers supported them one by one. As I held onto a thin soldier who reeked of blood and defecation, my eyes searched desperately for green hair or green eyes.
Then I found him, his face black and blue, naked except for a torn robe draped around him, his eyes closed. He looked like he wasn't even breathing.
All the strength I mustered that morning to be ready for the finality of the news if he was indeed dead or alive fled from me upon seeing his piteous state. His glasses were gone. He had bruises all over his chest and his eyes. Dear Heavens, I couldn't see his eyes.
I wanted to weep. Instead, I gently placed the man I was holding to another rescuer and hurried towards Midorima. Over the years that we became friends I developed a pet name for him. Shin-chan. It was easier to say it than his longer last name.
I went and wrapped my arms around him gently, nodding at the men who held him. They knew we were comrades.
He was so tall but he felt so light. He had gotten thinner beyond my recognition. He had been in captivity for almost a month.
My voice broke when I whispered, "Shin-chan, can you hear me? You're safe now."
He was still breathing, and he was conscious because he could walk, but he never opened his eyes or uttered a single sound.
Xx000xxxx
Over the weeks that followed it was as if the person who came back was not the dear friend I once knew. They had been debriefed but whatever atrocity they experienced in the hands of our enemies was not news to anyone who wanted to know. Everything was strictly confidential. And Shin-chan would not even look at me. After my shift, maybe even once or twice a week, I would visit him in the Infirmary. He had a lot of broken bones that needed tending.
During the first month he never even acknowledged my presence. I would sit beside him on the hospital bed in a room full of other soldiers like him. I would talk about random things while he looked at the window, with nary a reaction whatsoever.
But I never stopped visiting him. During those times when he was at his best and strongest he had helped a lot of people. I couldn't abandon him now at his weakest. I considered him my very best friend in the army.
One afternoon when I went to the Infirmary with the snacks I brought him, a hush fell upon the room. It seemed that all the occupants of the room were looking at me. And my friend was nowhere in sight. I scratched my head in confusion. "Where's Shin-chan?"
"Haven't you heard?" one guy responded.
Dread filled me. "What happened?"
"The guy attacked the doctor this morning."
"Whaaat?" I gaped, shocked. Shin-chan? That guy was the most gentle guy I had ever known in my entire life. He was a farmer in his youth. If not for this war he wouldn't have hurt a fly!
"All the doctor wanted was to lift his robe, you know, to check the progress on his broken leg but he – he just snapped and choked the poor doctor. Almost killed him."
I couldn't believe what I heard. And they could tell, with how my mouth was hanging open all this time.
I ran out and looked for the officer in charge so I could ask where they took him.
Naturally he was put into isolation. They thought he was unstable. He never talked about his ordeal during his captivity. He had gone silent, not talking to anyone. So no one knew how to help him. They thought he may hurt someone again in his state of mind.
Crushed, I asked for permission to see him. The officer looked at me as if I grew three heads, not knowing why I would want to put myself in danger.
"He's my friend. He'll never hurt me."
"We don't know that now. He's not the same as the person you used to know," the officer said gently.
But I refused to budge. "If there is a waiver I will sign it to get the responsibility off your shoulder, Sir. He needs a friend right now."
"Oh, alright. Here. Sign this."
After an hour of more paperwork and waiting, I was finally led to his tiny room. He was still wounded so he needed treatments so he was put in a closed room with a single futon and nothing else.
"If he hurts you you're on your own. Shout if you can," a fellow soldier told me.
Shin-chan was sitting hunched on the futon, his head bowed low, his shoulders fallen in a slump. He looked half dead, even though his body was slowly recuperating. I just stood there, not coming to him since I knew he wanted space. All he needed was space. It was as if I was the only one who understood. I never opened my mouth that day to say anything. I just stood there quietly for some time. When I was reassured that he was doing fine, I went out.
And I came back. My routine never broke, except if I had an assignment in a faraway region which would take me away for a week or so. The guard had also gotten used to see me. So far, Shin-chan always appeared calm and collected. There were moments when I would catch his eyes looking at me or smiling at something that I said and I couldn't exactly describe how happy it made me feel.
One afternoon, I went to his room to visit him. As I sat down beside his futon, I noticed how his complexion was becoming healthier. Most of his bruises were gone. I heard that only female doctors could get near him because he would get violent if he saw another male in his room other than me. Well, that was normal, of course. He hated threats imposed by a male presence. Except for me since he was used to mine. And we had been friends for so long.
Usually I would sit on one end of the futon while he sat on the other one, with the big space between us. I didn't know why but I had always felt dissatisfied with that. We had usually bumped shoulders or slapped each other's arms in the past. Maybe, since Shin-chan was gradually becoming better, we could go back to being rough when teasing each other.
"Hey man, when have you heard last from your sister?" I joked. It was always my way of opening the topic of our families. Heaven knew I cared not at all about his sister in whatever way. I only wanted an opener.
Shin-chan looked at me cooly, unflexing his legs. It looked like they had already healed nicely under his hospital robes. "I think Japan is losing this fight, man," I said. "We haven't had any solid control over these provinces for some time. The empire just wants us to push but I seriously doubt we will win this. I wish this war ends soon. I want to go home, you know?"
No reaction. He was simply looking at me.
Feeling braver, I sat closer to him. "Have you written to your family yet? I know it's difficult, man. But they're worrying. You should at least tell them you're alive and – in one piece."
Shin-chan gave a small shake of his head. It was an indication that he didn't want to talk about it.
I sighed. Sure I was used to him being all quiet and reserved but this level of aloofness was just killing me. I missed those times when he smiled openly at some corny joke I made.
I moved closer to him, even though I knew it may be unwise. I just couldn't take more of this distance between us. We had always been close friends. Surely I could rub his head the way I used to without raising any negative feeling from him. He had been docile all these weeks in this room anyway.
Gently I reached out and brushed his green bangs from his eyes. Thankfully they had already given him a new pair of glasses. My touch was soft, tentative. I felt him tense up, but other than that he did not move. He was quietly watching me, a glint of something unknown in his eyes.
I didn't know why. All these years I had stopped to ask myself why no one else could give me greater happiness than by being with this stoic brooding giant. I never thought of my other male friends this way. But with Midorima everything paled in comparison. Lines became blurred in between.
"I wish you'd come back to us, man. I'm not asking you to tell me what they did to you there in the enemy camp, but at least – if you open up – "
Suddenly a his hand gripped my wrist. I was startled. When I looked at his eyes there was a flash of unspeakable hate there that threatened to choke me. He looked livid. "Open up, Takao? Do you want me to tell you what happened to me there? Then I will tell you!"
I didn't know how he could have moved so fast, and how strong he really was. I was a muscular soldier and in his state I should have been able to take him on, but in my shock and fear I became paralyzed.
He suddenly bent me over, pinned me with his arms and legs and straddled my back. "Fuck! Shin-chan, get off me, I swear I won't take this against you, man. Just – just let me go!" I was whispering loudly, afraid that if the guard heard our noise he would come in and that would not look good for Midorima. He would probably be sent to jail for good, now that he had healed. I didn't want that.
It was my fault I was there. I would not let them take him away.
"That's right, Takao, scream. Scream so that they'll hear you."
"No! I won't do that. Just get off and I swear I won't ask you again. I won't come here if that's what you want. Just please – " I gasped harshly. He was roughly opening my pants.
I seriously tried to fight him but he was bigger and his longer arms seemed to reach everywhere. With one hand he pinned my wrists to my back while he pushed my pants off my hips.
When I felt the breeze on my naked ass I thought this was it. All my questions would be answered. But still I didn't want it to happen this way. And besides, being raped in the ass would never feel good in any way.
"Shin-chan, just let me go. Man, look. If you want relief I will help you. But not like this. I will – touch you and help you get off if that's what you want."
He snarled. "I fucking want you to scream!"
"NO!" I retorted. "You're doing this because you want them to lock you for good. But you're not violent like this, man. I know you. We've been friends. Just let me go and I'll do what you want."
"If you're not going to scream then shut up and let me finish."
"Whaaat – "
This time he let go of my arms and spread my legs. I tried to turn around to gain leverage but he crushed me with his chest, his whole body pinning me to the futon. I was getting scared. I felt a hard tip nudge the crack of my ass. I didn't want it like this.
"Just fucking scream will you?" he growled into my ear.
"Nooo…" I gasped back.
With a grunt, he pierced through me. I buried my face on the futon to drown out my choked sobs. How it hurt! All this time, all this time in the shower I had thought countless times how it would feel with something stuck in my ass but now that it was finally happening all I wanted was to cry.
I gripped the futon with my hands and cried hoarsely onto the mattress. If my resolve broke I would have screamed a long time ago. But I couldn't. If this had been done to Shin-chan in whatever manner that was meant to punish him then somehow I felt the despair, the self loathing.
I felt him moving in and out of me and everytime his thick cock pushed inside me I felt as if a piece of my flesh was being torn apart.
He was also choking and I realized he was weeping. "Why can't you scream, Takao? Why?"
"Just – just finish, okay?" I lifted my mouth off the futon so he could hear. "We'll just talk about this later."
"Damn you!"
He drilled into me a few more times before he pulled up and after a few seconds I felt cold wet liquid rain on my butt cheeks. He had actually raped me and got off on my ordeal.
I couldn't move after that. I lay very still, my lower part throbbing from pain. When I turned to Shin-chan I found him huddled on one corner, his robes haphazardly around him and he was looking at me with a sick expression.
"Shin-chan…"
"Get out!"
"Shin-chan, we have to talk about what happened to you…"
"Get the fuck out, Takao!" And then he finally threw up. He bent over the floor, retching while I struggled to put my pants back on. I touched my ass to confirm my suspicions and when I saw rich blood on my fingers I knew I was correct. This wound would be serious.
Being a soldier that I was who had known hardships all these years, I knew this would not stop me. Slowly I fastened my pants, looking at Shin-chan and his vomit as tears ran down his face.
"Shin-chan…"
"Why couldn't you have just let me die out there?"
"We can't do that."
"I don't want to go on like this."
"Well, you should. It's who we are. It's what we do. If not us, it would be other people who would hurt. You were strong enough in the past to defy your officers, why can't you show your courage now?"
He shook his head. "I couldn't count – how many times. How many of them. It hurt so much I had wanted to die right there."
Now I understood why he couldn't stand another man touching him. He had been brutally raped and tortured in the enemy camp. Anyone in his right mind would simply get out of it. Now I was still looking at a survivor in any way that he knew how to survive.
"They did it because they wanted to prove they were stronger than you. They wanted to break you, Shin-chan. But no one should be able to break you but yourself. The day you stop hoping is the day you stop living. I can say that now with blood running down my ass."
Shin-chan turned away and gripped the side of his head. "I just raped you. I was hoping you would use your gun on me."
I wanted to stay longer to talk to him but the pain in my back was getting to be unbearable. I knew I needed a doctor to look at it right away. I slowly made my way to the door. "I will always be your nakama, whether you think of me as one or not, Shin-chan. People die in this war. I'd rather have you living."
I didn't know how I reached the Infirmary in my condition. Thankfully I had gained a handful of medics and it became a hush hush what happened to me. I finally had to tell all my friends that I had a tryst with an unknown man who was rougher than usual and yes, that I had always been gay.
Because of my medic friends' clout I was able to secure a certificate proclaiming me to be injured in the "hip area" so I couldn't go on my shifts. During the first few days of my hospitalization Shin-chan never even bothered to visit.
Sometimes I cried when I was alone. Now that I could admit to myself the real nature of my sexuality it hurt because I knew Shin-chan and I could never ever go back to how it was in the past. He was a straight man who was raped as a form of torture. And he raped me to make me submit and make me feel the hopelessness he felt during his ordeal.
Oh, yes it hurt how he ripped my ass apart, but the underlying emotion I felt was peace. At last I now knew the reason why I cared so much for him. It was because I loved him with every fiber of my being. If I didn't I wouldn't have put up with everything that I did in order to be with him. The countless visits to the hospital, the inexplicable anxiety he put me through whenever he was in a mission. Now I could tell myself that the first time I had seen him as an awkward recruit some three years ago, I knew I had fallen in love with him in an instant.
But he could never look at me that way. He was disgusted by what went on between men in the bedroom. Yes, he raped me but technically I did let him. And it was probably the last time I would ever see him again.
On my second week of confinement I was surprised to see Midorima standing at my door. There were two other soldiers standing beside him as escorts. His hands were even cuffed.
Shocked, I sat up on my bed, and my back complained. "Shin-chan?"
One guard grumbled, "Five minutes."
I sat wondering what the visit was about. For a long time he just stood there even after the guards left.
As impatient as I was I said, "Five minutes would be up and I wouldn't hear the reason why you're here."
"Takao." His voice was low, soft. My gentle giant.
"What? Can you come here for a bit? What? Do I have leprosy now to you?" I joked.
He walked closer to my bed, glaring at me. "I came here – to apologize."
I waved a hand at him. There were other patients in the room so we couldn't be specific. "Man, don't think about it, okay? I hoped I was able to be of help, though."
"Be serious!" he growled. "Takao, can't you fucking be serious for a moment?" He was looking terribly hopeless again so I ceased my jokes.
"I'm sorry. I just – Whatever happened between us I don't want you to think that it's serious enough to drive us apart. To me, our friendship is more precious than what you did." Did I sound begging? I knew I sounded pathetic but I couldn't help it.
"I'm leaving. They're sending me back home."
"What?" All the blood drained off my face.
"They said they can't use someone like me in the war. That I'm unstable. And I agreed. I want to go back home."
"But – but – "
"That's why I'm here."
"Huh?"
"If you want to – accuse me of – of violating you I will accept corporal punishment."
I looked at him in confusion. "I wouldn't – I wouldn't do that!"
"Why shouldn't you after what I did?"
"Because – because – Shin-chan, I want you here. We're comrades, man. I understand what you wanted to tell me that day. I understand and if you remember what I told you I wouldn't hold anything against you."
He hung his head. "Then let me go."
"What?"
"If you will not press charges, let me go. Every time I look at you I remember the horrible thing that I have done and sometimes it makes me want to end my own life. I would prefer that you press charges, but if you wouldn't, then just let me forget about what happened. Let me forget you."
I smiled bitterly. "So those are my only options huh? Just like when you asked me to scream or let you finish."
Midorima clutched at his chest, his despair eating at him.
I bowed my head. "Then go. I wish you all the best."
"Takao."
I didn't look up.
"You're the only one who always understood me," he whispered.
The door opened and the guard came in. "Midorima, it's time."
I only heard his footsteps as he left. After that I squeezed my eyes shut and willed away the tears that were threatening to fall down.
Xoxoxoxo
After I was discharged from the hospital we learned that the American general Mac Arthur returned with his army. Everyone could feel that the biggest battle we would face was coming near.
From late 1944 until 1945 the fighting between the Japanese army and Filipino/American army fiercely continued. Japan sent all our troops, on land, sea and air to make the Philippines our final line of defense.
More fighting ensued, which I was thankful to survive. Many men and women from all three countries died. Finally, on September 1945 the Imperial army of Japan surrendered formally. Many of our generals were tried for war crimes they had committed. Some soldiers who also had records of crimes were tried, but fortunately for many of us, who were just foot soldiers following command, we were given pardon and allowed to go home.
It was almost December when I got back home to my mother and father, and they now openly wept as they welcomed me on the harbor.
We grieved for our people who died in Hiroshima and Nagasaki during the final stages of the war. Our small province held a small solemn tribute for the two provinces that were destroyed by the nuclear bombing. Almost half of Japan was destroyed because of the attacks made by the Allies.
Living in this condition for the first few years were hard for every Japanese because we had to scrape for food in any way we could. Resources were meager. There were no stable jobs.
My father and I went back to fishing. We continued to live in our decrepit cottage, thankful that at least we had fish to eat.
During the years that followed, the Allied forces occupied my country and changed it to a democratic form of government. A lot of changes were made. The Emperor was no longer a deity but rather a figurehead who was more of a symbol of Japan, rather than power. They also introduced land agrarian reforms so that more poor farmers would gain land as opposed to rich landowners who were enthusiastic supporters of the war.
Gradually peace was returning. I still abhorred the American presence in my country but it could not be helped. Times changed. People should change along with them.
In the year 1950 I celebrated my twenty seventh birthday. It was nine years after I first came to the army training camp as a naïve child. Now I was fully a man, who did everything he could to get by in this life.
A lot of parents offered me their daughters in the hopes of continuing their generation. A lot of men died during the war that the remaining men who came home alive were treated with respect and adoration even. Even my parent cajoled me to take a wife, since they wanted to see their grandchildren before they died.
I couldn't tell anyone the reason why I always refused marriage interviews. Being in the war all these years, one thing that I learned was to live my life to the fullest and I wouldn't let a big lie like that tie me down. I had experiences with a woman or two in my younger years, but after Shin-chan had raped me, there was no one else that I became interested in. No man or woman.
I was probably destined to die alone, since I did not feel any inclination to find a partner. My life with my parents was enough for me.
One day, as I was happily walking home from the marketplace where I sold two big fish for a few coins, and traded another one for a basket of vegetables, I decided to walk by the seashore. It was too early for lunch. I had a few minutes before my mother would demand the vegetable from me.
Aaah… This serenity, this calm. I haven't felt this for the last few eventful years of my life. I had always loved the ocean. It was where I grew up. I sat there, contented with the sound of the crashing waves, the feel of the itchy sand between my toes.
I was home. And I was alive.
I lay on the sand and spread my arms above my head as I stared at the blue skies above me. No amount of war could ever destroy the beauty of the clouds floating high and above in wonderful formations.
I was looking up like that for a long while when I noticed movement at my peripheral vision.
I turned to the side and far away from me stood a tall large man in a simple wrinkly suit. I frowned, dismissing him from my mind. I turned back to my lovely clouds. A stranger in a suit by the seaside. What a funny view.
He was too far for me to see his face and he was wearing a Wetern cap, hiding most of his green hair…
I gasped, standing up suddenly.
Green hair?
When I turned back to his direction I saw the man leaving.
Could I be mistaken? Surely fate was not jesting with me.
I left my basket of vegetables on the sand to run after the stranger. He was too far away now.
"Shin-chaaaaan!" I cried out.
In front of me, the man stopped walking. I gasped and panted, stopping to catch my breath. For whatever reason I couldn't come near him. I was too afraid that this was just a dream.
I looked up and was hit by the vision of emerald that I had been pining for these last six years.
It was really him.
"Shin-chan? Why are you here?" I managed to ask.
"I was – I wanted to see you," he replied softly, averting his eyes.
I straightened up and brushed the sand off my old yukata. "Oh. You could have written me a letter. How did you find where I lived?"
"You told me in the past the name of this province. As for the specifics, I decided to search for them."
My heart still beating wildly, I scratched my head, trying to look composed. "Alright. Have lunch with me and my parents. They would be delighted to meet a friend of mine back at the military. Let me just go get my vegetables."
After retrieving my basket I walked side by side with him in silence. It was a very nice day, made nicer by the fact that after all these years I got to look again at the only man, no, only person I had loved all my life.
"You look good," he said out of the blue.
I almost choked and tripped on the road. Clearing my throat I told him, "So do you. Hey, why didn't you at least write me all these years? I don't know where you live. If I did I would have sent you letters, you know?" I said.
"I got married."
Ouch.
My insides twitched but I tried not to show any emotion aside from the fake smile on my lips. "Uhhm… Well – congratulations. That's – ahh – wonderful news."
"We separated last year."
EEEHHH?
I turned to him. As usual his expression was very serious as he looked ahead at the road. I winced at him. "That's a bit fast."
"It could not be helped."
"I see," I replied, for the lack of a better thing to say.
Somehow it was getting more and more awkward with each step towards my house.
"Takao."
"Hm?"
"Do you remember what I told you? In the hospital before I left?"
I turned away, sighing. As much as possible I did not want to talk about any of that. "Shin-chan, I think it has been too long. Maybe we should forget – "
"That's right. I told you to forget. I wanted to forget about you."
I bowed my head low. I didn't want to bring up the past anymore between us. It was good of him, my friend, to see me after the war. I did not want to bring up the loneliness my unrequited love gave me.
Midorma stopped walking and turned towards me. "I cannot."
"Huh?" I asked.
"There is no way in my lifetime that I will ever forget you."
This time the sincerity in his eyes was shining, almost as if blinding me. I smiled, looking down at my basket. "Of course, Shin-chan. I think no man will be kind enough to still treat you normally after you did that to him. But it's all in the past now. Let it go."
"I got married to forget you. I had sex with a woman to forget what I did to you. But I cannot."
I stared at his sharp eyes.
He stood back, his shoulders trembling. This was the first time, aside from that rape incident, that Shin-chan was being assertive in something that he wanted to say. He was usually laid back and silent. But now he was shaking from nervousness.
"What are you saying, Shin-chan?"
"After what I did, I really felt like it was the most horrible thing that I could do to someone who valued me so much as a friend. I was afraid you would never forgive me," he whispered.
I shook my head. "It is you who has never forgiven yourself."
"But you should hate me. You should want me to be in jail. And yet – here I am, hoping – "
"Hoping what?"
"Hoping you will not turn me away."
"You know I will not turn you away." My voice had softened. It never did well for me to see Shin-chan agitated. It always made me want to protect his feelings.
"I didn't know what happened. I thought I hated it. I hated what those Americans did to me. But when I got home, and even after I got married, I realized…"
He paused again.
Impatiently I demanded, "Realized what?"
"I wouldn't mind touching another – another man. If it was you."
And then I choked.
I coughed onto my hand, a blast of warmth suffusing my face. Was it a crime to feel this happy when I knew some other people in Japan were still feeling depressed because of the loss of their family, or the destruction of their homes?
Shin-chan spoke again. "I had always wanted to tell you but I was a coward. You are also a man, therefore I know you would hate it. But I cannot – A while ago, if you hadn't called me, I would have left and not returned."
"But why?" I gasped.
"Because I only realized how pure and beautiful you really are. And that I am not fit to be in the company of someone like you. I –"
That did it.
I was never a man of any patience. I grabbed his arm and dragged him to a secluded part of the road, where it was covered in trees.
When I turned to him he had a look of confusion. "Takao – "
"This time, you be quiet!" I snapped. That earned me a shocked expression from him.
And he even got the bigger shock of his day and I dropped my basket and pulled him by the front of his jacket to meet his mouth in wild rough kiss.
I heard him gasp.
I moaned in reply.
We opened both our mouths at the same time, our tongues meeting and clashing. He held me so tight in his rock hard chest and I embraced him back, my hands clutching the back of his suit tightly. I never wanted to let him go.
He kissed me so deeply and I responded with as much intensity that my body could allow. When I felt his hard erection on my stomach I whimpered and ground myself against him. I pulled my mouth away to speak. "Shin-chan, dammit, Shin-chan. All this time. I've been loving you all this time. Why couldn't you have told me sooner?"
"I don't know. I hadn't realized it yet."
"Fuck it!" I grumbled. "I should have let you rape me sooner."
And with that we both burst out laughing, there in the middle of a damn forest, while my vegetables were rotting in my basket and I knew my mother would have a fit for me being late.
But I couldn't move from his arms. "Stay with me," I whispered, burying my face on his chest, which smelled of mothballs.
"Even when people in this town would think us strange?"
"I don't care!" I snapped.
"I don't think I can live happily anywhere if you're not with me," he replied, which made me melt even more.
"What about your family then?"
"My sister had gotten married and my parents are staying with her and her husband."
"Stay here, then. We have a small cottage. It's old and almost dilapidated, but I can spare a few coins every month to have it renovated."
"It's alright. My grandfather gave me some money when I got married. I still have a few left. And I'm willing to work so that I will not burden you and your family."
I hugged him again, feeling thankful about everything. That despite all the trials we still wound up in each other's arms.
"Thank you for coming back," I mumbled to his chest.
"Thank you for waiting," he whispered back.
We kissed again, forgetting the time.
Like I predicted my parents were delighted to meet an acquaintance of mine from the military. They welcomed Shin-chan like a second son. When I told him Shin-chan would need shelter they readily agreed to let him stay.
Our first night together was so much different from the first time we had an intercourse. This time he was much more gentle with me, making sure that he prepared my entrance with his oiled fingers so that he did not hurt me and make me bleed like the last time.
Only thin shoji doors separated us from my sleeping parents in the outer room so I had to make sure I did not create any noise that would give away what kind of activity we were having.
But it was bliss of the highest form. It still hurt a bit, but with oil and his gentleness this time it made me feel good. Our sweaty arms and legs wrapped around each other as he thrust himself inside my body.
His kisses were desperate as if he couldn't get enough. And he made sure to touch a part of my body inside that would send liquid ecstasy coursing through my veins. It was the first proper lovemaking I had experienced with a man. And Shin-chan was the only one I would ever share this experience with.
"I'm almost…" I whispered.
"Give yourself some release. I want to watch you," he spoke softly to my ear, nipping the lobe.
I tugged at my erect member a few times, in the same manner which I masturbated all these years to Shin-chan's images. I choked back a cry as I came. To muffle the noise Shin-chan kissed me hard.
He began drilling into me with more force than before. I, too, could feel him spiraling out of control. After a few more heartbeats I felt him shudder and warmth spread into my insides. He buried himself very deeply and emptied himself in me.
Panting and gasping he lay above me, crushing me with his weight. Despite the heaviness I felt comforted and secure in the knowledge that I could feel him inside me and with me.
My happy life with Shin-chan was going to start from her on now.
Xxx0000xxxx
More than forty years later, those memories still made me smile. We went through a lot of pain and tragedy in our lives, but Shin-chan's and my lives were always entwined like the proverbial red threads of fate.
I didn't know long I was spaced out on the floor smiling at nothingness while my fingers still traced the glass of the photo frame. It was the last of the pictures I had saved during the war. The only one where both Shin-chan and I were in.
Maybe it was because of my poor hearing but I never heard our truck park outside. And I was startled to see my handsome man coming into the house, done with this day's work.
Our eyes met. As always he looked at me with such tenderness that even I for one, thought was becoming too corny for old men like us.
He sat beside me on the floor and looked at the frame I was holding. I had not wanted him to see me holding it because he always teased me for being such a softie for remembering our war years. But since I did not hear the truck, I couldn't escape his notice now. He would definitely tease me again.
"You seem to be always looking at that," he observed.
"Ahh, because we're getting really old. It feels good to reminisce sometimes."
We turned towards each other. Even though his hair was mostly white now, the green intensity of his eyes never changed.
He laid a calloused wrinkly palm over my cheek. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For giving me a second chance," Midorima said.
"You own me, Shin-chan. You've owned me the day you stood up for your little buddy with the panic attack."
Shn-chan grinned, and even in our old age he still looked very boyish. "I love you always," he said solemnly.
"And I you."
It's the aki season, the time of the year that I love so much. I'm content with my life with my friend and partner. We don't have children but we have five cats and two dogs.
Life is good.
XXXXXXXXXXXXX
Oookay, so that was long, no matter how much I censored the words. It's not filled with smut but I hope you will still like it.
I promise I'll do my best to continue with Magnetize and Sinfully Yours. Like I said, I'm cutting down on the Android games because I don't have a life outside my room now and my daughter wants to kill me for it. I'm trying to bring back the balance in my life again.
So guys, thank you for always liking my stories and for messaging me. I love you!