Aawut stared up at the glistening weapon, pulling Zhong closer to his chest. The Japanese soldier stared defiantly, gaze unwavering and hand steady. Aawut wished the Japanese would say something, anything, whether it would be in Japanese or even his Thai or maybe broken English, anything really. Aawut felt Zhong give a small, tiny cough, barely audible to anyone, but the soldier heard him as if he had coughed the loudest he could
"What's wrong with him?" the soldiers English was terrible, only barely noticeable as English. Aawut half wished that a British soldier was here, first to get them out of this situation, second to reprimand this man for his terrible dialect.
"He took a shot to the stomach and right shoulder. He's lost a lot of blood and I think he's coming down with something. The cold maybe. I'm not sure, I'm not a doctor" Aawut, despite being Thai by birth, spoke his English clear and with precision that many didn't expect a foreigner to have. Aawut half wished Zhong was awake, he would have certainly made fun of the Japanese for his lack of English pronunciation.
"He alive?" the man seemed to think that Zhong would be better off dead, and he would probably be dead if Aawut hadn't force fed him and changed the cloth tied around the bullet wounds, but Zhong was not dead and how dare he think he was, because the unconscious man in his arms was not dead, dammit.
"Yes he's alive" Aawut glared angrily at the man, eyes ablaze. The Japanese officer had the decency to at least look a little shocked, but it quickly faded.
"Then get up!" the voice rang loud and badly accented, the weapon was thrust in his face once more. Any sympathy or kindness that had been within the Japanese has quickly disappeared
"He's unconscious! I can't move him!" Aawut steeled his grip on the Chinese when he saw one of the soldiers buddies move towards the pair, not wanting the men to grab the injured youth. Zhong was a tall, lanky Chinese man, glasses perched on his thin face, cheek bones sharp and high on his face; he was thrust into this war at only just turning seventeen where Aawut was twenty five, and agreed to this omission willingly, unlike Zhong, who's parents forced him to agree to the Americans and go undercover. Aawut and Zhong had attended the same university, studied in the same field of expertise, but had never spoken a word to each other until they were asked to go to Thailand. At first Zhong had been hesitant, he'd heard of the happenings of world war two and he had no desire to go over and fight for his mother land, but upon learning Aawut would be going as well and that it would help his parents, he'd agreed. They never thought they would be in such a grave situation. Aawut hadn't seen the soldier move until Zhong cried out, falling to the ground in a small heap. Blood quickly exited the man body, small groans of protest leaving his body. Zhong had enough strength to make it our of the hangar they were in, adrenaline pushing him forward until he couldn't walk on his wobbly legs anymore. Aawut carried him to the best of his abilities, but his arms grew tired and resting for the night wasn't ideal, but was necessary.
"My friend carry him" Aawut was pulled from his reverie when the man removed the gun barrel from his face, laying it on the ground beside him. Aawut shook his head, pulling the injured man closer to his chest. The mans blood used to make the man feel sick, the red liquid soaking into the jacket of his camo uniform.
"No...Don't touch him" the Thai was positive that the men didn't think of him as a threat, but he couldn't bring himself to care, they weren't going to touch Zhong.
"I carry him!" the soldier advanced again, fingers curled to his palm to form a fist. Aawut shifted to the side, making the Chinese mans legs hang across his lap. The Japanese soldiers face formed into a snarl, the anger of being denied clear in his expression.
"Hisoka, take him" the angry soldier, Hisoka, advanced forward. One other soldier stepped forward as well, grabbing Aawut by his right shoulder, pulling Aawut towards his chest. Hisoka grabbed Zhong none to gently, trying to pry him from the Thais arms. Aawut struggled against the men, his body moving and struggling, not for his sake, but for the boy half way in his arms.
"Pull him away!" the original soldier, the General Aawut deduced, yelled at his men, who were failing to pry Zhong away. With a final and rough tug, Zhong slipped from the Thais grasp, falling to the mud beneath them.
"No! Leave him alone!" the Japanese swarmed around Aawut now, the Thai causing more of a ruckus than the unconscious on the ground. The general squatted next to Zhong, taking a fist-full of the mans dark hair into his white gloved hand. Mud covered the left side of the boys pale face, giving his complexion an even more sickly tone
"You fought for this? A soon to be corpse?" anger flooded Aawut as the general laughed, a sharp noise that grated on the Thais nerves. The general released the boys hair, letting his head fall back to the earth with a splash. Aawut pulled against the men, willing his arms to be free of the Japanese soldiers grasps
"He is a brave man! And he's strong, he'll most certainly survive" Aawut didn't know if he was trying to reassure himself or intimidate the general; Aawut later decided it was to reassure himself. The generals grating voice echoed through his ears once again, piercing his eardrums.
"I'm General Hisashi, and I'm going to break you two" the smile that adorned the Japanese mans face made the Thai freeze, chocolate eyes going wide. He could see two soldiers kneel next to Zhong, their nimble fingers taking off the makeshift bandages covering his bullet wounds. The blood had long since stopped pouring from the holes, leaving red and puffy skin, but infection was still possible for the man. General Hisashi waved at one of the men holding the Thais arm, making the man come forward with a thick bamboo stick. The immaculate white gloves grabbed onto the stick, smile crossing his lips in a sinister expression.
"Me and you will play a game. I ask you questions, you answer or I hit your friend with stick. Begin?" General Hisashi nudged Zhong onto his side, smiling down at the unaware boy
"Question one: Where do you come from?" in reality, it was a stupid question, but it wasn't something Aawut was afraid to give out
"Thailand" the answer rolled off his tongue effortlessly, no fear traced in his words
"Question two: Where is this fellow from, and what's his name?" Aawut bristled slightly when they General tapped the Chinese boys cheek wit his bamboo stick
"He's from America, his name is Xian" Aawut felt a surge of grief go through him when the general chuckled, shaking his head from side to side. Without warning, his boot connected with Zhongs face, the bamboo stick landing on his stomach, right where the small bullet hole was. Zhong whimpered quietly, face scrunching into a painful expression. Aawut pulled against the Japanese men, Thai flowing off his tongue in a fast pace. Curses and pleads for the general to stop, to not hurt him flew into the air, falling onto deaf ears
"Again!" the stick came down on the boy, his eyes ablaze with sadistic happiness
"He's originally from China! His name in Zhong!" Aawut hated to give in so soon, and to these men none the less. The General looked satisfied with the answer for now
"Question three: What are you two doing here?" Aawut bit his lip at the question, looking down. He couldn't come up with a lie, he couldn't even come up with something to say as an excuse. The bamboo came down again, making the Chinese gasp softly. Aawut struggled against the men again, pulling and tugging with all of his little strength
"Answer the question!" the hits grew harder, more ferocious by the second
"We were sent here for a mission!" Aawut wasn't aware he had yelled out anything, but he had, and the hits kept on raining down on the Chinese
"By who?!"
"The Americans!"
"Here!?" Aawut bit his tongue, knowing he's already said too much, but oh well, he didn't care.
"Stop hitting him!" Aawut was frantic, dark chocolate eyes wide and hands fisted.
"Fine. As you wish" The General dropped the bamboo stick, his hands grabbing onto the handle of his gun. Aawut faintly heard himself scream, something that might have been in Thai or broken english or nothing at all, just a scream, but the barrel was at the boys head, and his eyes were open
"Good morning sunshine!" the general seemed delighted that Zhong was awake, unfocused eyes staring up at him. Zhong shifted his gaze. Aawut froze when he took in the light brown eyes, the brown that reminded him of Chai tea with just a hint of coffee creamer, almost a golden brown.
"Answer me" Aawut opened his mouth to answer, to spill everything he knew
"Never" Zhong spoke over Aawut, his voice strong for an injured teen. The Generals eyes bore down on the boy, his black eyes sending daggers into his head. Aawut shifted slowly, his mouth turning parched from his slight fear
"Zhong...we can tell them.." Aawut was almost pleading with the boy, his eyes swimming with worry and apprehension.
"No, don't give anything to these swine" Zhong spat the words like they were venom in his mouth, horrible to taste, to speak, and even think. General Hisashi glared harder at the boy, mouth formed into a tight line. The barrel of the gun pressed to the skin of the Chinese boys temple, the Generals finger itching on the trigger
"What you call us?!" Aawut could practically see the anger radiating off the man, his face going red and his black eyes boring into his head
"I called you a swine" Zhongs voice was wavering, his bravery slowly fading, but his facial expression stayed the same. Aawut stared into Zhongs golden brown eyes, feeling the pain, fear, bravery, and fight that swirled within the boy. The gunshot rang loud and clear throughout the street, deafening everyone around. Aawut didn't know he was screaming until his lungs begged for oxygen, constricting painfully enough to feel like his chest. Tears glistened down his cheeks as he stared into dulling golden eyes, staring at him. The general smiled down at the boy with a sardonic expression, pure glee radiating of his body. The bright blood swirled like a whirlpool in the mud, bright and oh so wrong.
"No! He was just a boy! He was only seventeen!" Aawut struggled harder against the men, his glasses flying off his face in his rage. The barrel was raised up to Aawut, who froze at the sight. The barrel hole was pitch black, staring at the Thai with a ferociousness.
"And how old are you?" the words made the Thai freeze, his blood running cold by a single question.
"I'm...twenty five..." Aawut tried to keep his nerves down, swallow past the lump that formed, but he couldn't
"That's old enough" and the gunshot ran through the street