Takako Chigusa signed up for the war the day she turned of age.
Hiroki protested, of course. He did not believe in all the fighting. But she had watched her house and her family burn seven years ago, and she wanted to help. She'd lived with the Sugimuras ever since – Hiroki and his mother, and the kitten he'd found on the side of the road three years before.
Ever since war had broken out last year, Takako had itched to fight. Even moreso when Mrs. Sugimura had died, six months ago – shot on the side of the road by a soldier. But Hiroki had always been a dreamer – he did not realize that when the money ran out, they were screwed. And the only job she could get right now was fighting. The only job she'd be able to excel at was fighting.
There were two sides: the rebels and the government. Takako didn't know much about it, but her friend Mayumi had signed up a month ago to join the government fight, and thus so would she, swearing allegiance to the land that had birthed her.
She left after Hiroki fell asleep – she thought he'd try to stop her. She signed up and they took her on immediately – desperate times called for desperate measures.
She walked across town, even though there was nobody on the streets. Because of the bombs flying overhead, people were afraid to leave. Many had shelters beneath their homes. After an hour of walking, she opened up the door to the dingy little building that served as government recruitment in this city.
Signup was brutal. Although women were allowed to fight in this war, it was still strange to be there, facing men that she would fight with. They felt the same way, obviously enough from their smirks. She fought her frown, but couldn't help the drawing of her eyebrows together, tightly, like the lacing of boots.
"This isn't the nurse's signup sheet, sweetheart." A man blew cigarette smoke into her face, feet resting on a table, a tiny plastic fold-up chair hardly seeming able to hold his weight.
"I know exactly where I am," she answered, meeting his eye. He was a few years older than her, with a long scar across his eyebrow. Next to him, his partner seemed very young, though he did not seem unfriendly as he grinned at her.
"Sign up here… name?"
"Takako Chigusa."
"Alright, write down your weight… height… shoe size… address… birth date… yup all of those too."
He seemed much kinder than his counterpart, with a lazy grin. It was close to three in the morning and she was the only one there.
"So what brings you here so late at night? A pretty girl like you shouldn't be alone."
He winked roguishly but she just rolled her eyes. "If I'm signing up to be a soldier, I think walking alone at night is the least of my worries. Anyhow, there wasn't anything in the newspaper about nearby fighting tonight."
She was proud of herself for knowing that. In school, she had hardly cared about such things. In fact, pathetically, all she knew of the war was that the rebels were trying to overthrow the government.
There wasn't much information published about the war. As far as she knew, that was wrong. Government was important, she had been taught in school, and a strong government guaranteed a peaceful society. Peace for Hiroki was what was important, so she figured it was fair. Nothing in the current regime had hurt her, so she'd support it.
"Hey, you're lucky, this is a safe zone. Over in Kobe, there are bombs overhead every night. Those who ain't got a shelter are fucked," cigarette-man grunted at her.
"So, thoughts on buzzing your hair? Personally, I like the length, but it kinda gets in the way. Some girls keep their hair," the other, cheerful one stood, and gestured for her to come through the door that separated them. "So… Chigusa. What brings you up to the resistance? I'm Mim, by the way, and that grumpy guy over there is Kawada."
"I'd be less damn grumpy if we didn't get stuck with the night shift. Chrissakes, after the medals we got down in the last skirmish, you'd think we'd at least get an earlier time for this shit."
Takako asked the younger one, curiously: "Why are you here? Aren't you on active duty then?"
Mim winced as he tied the robe around her neck and shoved her unceremoniously into a chair, razor in hand. "Lost a lot of good men down there. The signups on our shifts become our new babies. So welcome to the team," he grinned, hacking at her hair. "Government innit as organized as we wish it were, so we can claim you."
"You're terrible at this. Let me do it," she ordered him, scowling at the mess she knew he was making of the locks she spent so long growing out. Her vanity was not completely vanished, despite her pride being in tatters.
"You're gonna have to get used to sittin' down and shuttin' up. This is practice." Kawada called, blowing smoke out of the corners of his mouth.
Mim was lean and tall, with a gaudy earring hanging out of his right lobe. He dug through a closet and handed her a tightly bound package. "In here you got the typical necessities – boots, two pairs of socks – that's damn important, mind you, not only is it torture, it could actually kill you – proper attire, a helmet, and a pack. You'll be in barrack 3-B. It's right out back, third row, second building. Wake up call's at six AM sharp. You'll get basic training after breakfast."
Takako was rather taken aback. "That's it? That's all we have to do? I'm in the army?"
Kawada chuckled, stubbing out his cigarette. "Honey, desperate time's is desperate measures. Before this damn war, it was illegal to let a citizen own a gun. Now the draft is comin' back out – women included."
She did not know much about politics, but she accepted his word for it. "Thanks," she said, picking up her bag and struggling to carry both armfuls at once.
Mim grinned. "Trouble there? Don't worry about it – you'll get toughened up soon enough."
She scowled at him. "I'm plenty tough already," she told him, promptly before her bag split open.
Kawada snorted, and Mim's face contorted with laughter.
She blushed. Mrs. Sugimura had made the bag for her. Money had always been tight in that household, and they often were often living off scraps. The bag had been threadbare for over a year, but Takako hoped the sewing would hold on for her. It was stupid to bring it here, but she'd been sentimental. She moved to pick up her things – a photo of her and Hiroki, her hairbrush, her toothbrush, clothes – and her menstrual kit. Hurriedly, she threw the final item into her torn bag as Mim leaned down to offer a hand.
"C'mon, kid," he took her bag. "I'll help you out this once."
He quickly exited, leading the way for her, waving a hand in front of his face, breathing in the fresh air. "Cripes," he smirked. "Shogo's dirty habits are gonna end up bein' the death of me."
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, if the bullets aren't."
"Watch the smartassery, kid. I'm the boss now. And here I am helpin' you out of the kindness of my heart."
"After you almost cut my throat. And don't call me kid. How old are you?"
"Well, today's your birthday, innit? That makes me 'bout six months older than you. Shogo's twenty-four."
"Why are you calling me a kid if you're just a baby yourself?" she demanded, shooting him a glare. "How are you lieutenant of a platoon if you're hardly older than me?"
"Same as you, I s'pose. Signed up the day I turned able. It's been an eventful war. And to raise morale, any old guy –er, person – gets promoted. Doesn't mean shit here, private. Here, this one's it."
He slammed the door open. "Hey princesses!" he grinned, his teeth white in the darkness. "We got ourselves a new buddy here!"
A voice broke out from one of the bunks: "Shit, Mimura. Did you really have to wake us up?"
"He gets off on torturing us," another voice yawned. "Prick."
"That's five hundred laps around the base, Private Shimizu," he intoned with mock seriousness. "Now, kiddies, meet your new best friend, Private Takako Chigusa."
"Thank goodness it's another girl. If I see another boy's one eyed Willy, I'm gonna scream. I'm Keiko – here, top bunk."
Sure enough, there was a yawning girl, cropped hair spiking up with sleep.
"Hirono's over there, right beneath her, there's Kazushi and Tadakatsu, and Mizuho and Izumi share a bed. You can sleep with Mayumi, who apparently, is still asleep. Mayumi? Mayumi!" Mim walked over to the bunk and poked her awake.
The girl on the bottom bunk rolled over, her hair puffing up similarly to Keiko's. "Hmm? It's not goddamn six yet, Mimura, and I swear on your life if you try to get me up—"
"Mayumi!" Takako spied the telltale scar on the girl's hand – one she'd gotten from a dog bite as a child.
The other girl immediately rolled around. "Shit! Takako!?"
Her dark eyes were filled with sleep, but she barreled towards her friend with surprising agility and awareness.
"Cut the reunion short, guys, tomorrow's gonna be rough," Shinji warned. "Sorry for the interruption, Hirono," he cracked at the grumpy girl, who only grunted and hid under her blankets.
He shut the door behind him, and it was black within the small cabin. Mayumi guided Takako to the bed, and showed her how to climb up without slipping in the dark, stowing her bags beneath. Takako thought she'd have trouble sleeping, with all the excitement and her wonderment at Mayumi's presence, but she fell asleep almost instantly, hoping Sugi wouldn't be too worried when he woke up – he could spend more time training at the dojo with the menial checks she'd send him. She'd always promised Mrs. Sugimura she'd take care of him, and she intended to keep her promise. It wasn't that she thought he was delicate, exactly, but he was sensitive in a way most people weren't. And if the draft was returning, he'd be seeing her sooner, rather than later anyway.
And somehow, miraculously, Mayumi was with her. That kind of luck was unbelievable. Takako felt it boded well for the future.
At least she thought so, until six in the morning.
The horn blared annoyingly and immediately everyone jumped out of bed – all the faces she hadn't seen last night. Hirono had hair that spiked up, it was so short and greasy. It was similar to Mim's in texture. She was thin and tall, and despite her annoyance at the nighttime interruption, was awake and alert immediately. Keiko was also tall, but slender, with an hourglass figure that was evident even in the dim morning light.
Kazushi and Tadakatsu were already pulling on their pants and shirts – Kazushi seemed handsome, with strong features and an athletic body. Yoshi, however, was a nervous looking boy with dark brown hair that blended with his tanned skin. Mizuho was shorter than the other two, with bobbed hair and a muscular body. Her companion, Izumi, was very short and stocky, with cropped curls that stuck out from her friendly face. There was so much to take in, so many new people, that Takako worried she'd forget them by breakfast.
Takako managed to roll out of bed without falling and tugged on her attire – making sure to follow Mim's advice about wearing the socks. Mayumi waited for her, and looking at her, Takako realized how different her friend looked.
Mayumi usually sported a long braid. She was very pretty, though not as vain as Taka, often wore makeup to enhance her appearance. Now though, she held herself higher – her previously slender body was muscled, and her face was tanned and devoid of artifice. Even her hair, which had been so gorgeous, was cropped almost as short as Hirono's.
"Don't look so surprised, Taka," Mayumi grinned at her friend. "When you're here, you don't really have any choice but to drop vanity. It's tough, I know, but you don't really have a choice."
The week before Mayumi signed on to the army, one of their good friends had been shot. Kahoru had been small and kind – she was much like Hiroki in that respect. The four of them got along famously. But while Taka and Hiroki hadn't seen it, Mayumi had been there, and blamed herself.
Takako had her own reasons – vivid memories of watching her house being licked by orange flames and black smoke haunted her still – and she needed to protect Hiroki. Mayumi couldn't save Kahoru, but she could save Sugi. So to war she went, to protect his innocence, and perhaps find out more about the state of the Republic. It was hard to get newspapers, and cable was all but obsolete, particularly because it had become so expensive in the past year.
At least Mayumi's smile was the same. Takako followed her to the dining hall, where she was given a plate and a reddish slop.
"Tomato stew, with beans and rice." Mim appeared out of nowhere and sat down with them. His plate also had an egg.
"What's with the special treatment, Mimura?" Mayumi teased. "Sleeping with the cooks again?"
The taller boy feigned offense. "Mayumi! I'm hurt. What you must think of me. And no. They were going to use these in something else but they went bad. But hey, call me adventurous," he shrugged and bit down into it, frowning. "They were damn right though, this is actually disgusting."
"So, I take it the two of you know each other?" he shoveled the mess into his mouth, washing it back with some water that did not look entirely clear.
"Yeah, we've been friends for years," Mayumi explained enthusiastically.
"I joined because of Mayumi," Taka told him briefly, and he nodded.
"Better hope you haven't bitten off more than you can chew," he looked at her seriously, his eyes boring into her as if he were trying to read her soul.
"I think you're the only one in danger of that right now," she deadpanned, and he gave her a smirk.
"Smart ass kid." He stood, burping, and began walking away. "Later, ladies, don't hurt yourselves today. There's a shameful lack of beautiful women here, and I'd hate to have you ruin that."
"If you say so, champ," Takako answered, turning away. His bark of laughter wafted over, and Mayumi giggled.
"Isn't he cute? I'd love to get that. Total ladies' man. But killer smile."
Takako's mind drifted to another smile, a softer, gentler face with wider lips… but now wasn't the time for that. She finished the strangely-constituted meal and followed Mayumi outside.
Luckily for Takako, she had run track in school. That was putting it modestly, though, and Taka was anything but modest. She'd all but carried the track team. She could've gone Olympic – if it weren't for the war. She was glad, though, because otherwise the workout regime they put them through would have been overwhelming. As soon as everyone arrived, the overseer, who said his name was Kitano, had them running laps. There were a few vaguely familiar faces – people who'd waited in line with her at the grocery, schoolmates from years ago, a neighbor or two, but nobody she cared about. She had Mayumi, Hiroki was home, and Kahoru was gone. So nothing really mattered.
The first time she saw her reflection was a day later, and she was surprised. Her expression was different already, her face dirtier, her hair unfamiliar and short, shorter than even Hiroki's. Was this how Mayumi felt?
Vanity had been Takako's biggest vice for years. But now, seeing her much-less-attractive complexion and appearance, she somehow was not bothered. She'd been proud since a very young age. It wasn't so easily let go, but somehow, this environment changed it. If she left, perhaps, she'd immediately feel self-conscious and resentful. Now, though, she did not mind matching these other girls who she once would've scornfully noted as plain.
Every day passed quite similarly. She did not have time to grow bored or regretful, and she grew fond of many of her bunkmates and newfound friends. There was Hirono, who got along famously with Mimura, from their matching hairstyles to their sarcastic comments and cockiness. Izumi, who was sweet and kind and small, but was one of the best hand-to-hand combatants in their sector. There was deceptively feminine Keiko, who was quiet and observant, and often seen speaking with higher-ups from other sectors, particularly one handsome man, and Takako deemed her as more of an authority figure than a peer. She didn't quite feel comfortable with Keiko yet.
There was Tadakatsu, whom she did not like due to his awkwardness, and Niida, whom she did not like because of his aggressiveness and perversion. Mizuho was the one who she truly disliked though. The girl was strange, and did not make eye contact with her, and was often awake at odd hours praying. Maybe it was a cry for help, but Takako was not inclined to be sympathetic to the strange girl who danced around the cabin naked. At least not yet.