The End of an Era
It's the beginning of the end. Now it's just the two of us, against impossible odds. It's hard to believe that Hiroshima was taken almost a year ago. The sights of tanks crushing my childhood home was still fresh in my mind, just as painful as the moment it occurred.
We used to think that we'd be able to hold off the Allies, but after my sister was killed while trying to drag Ayano into a bunker after she was shot in the leg, I knew it was over.
We were the Volunteer 1st Rifleman Squad, known as the "Lucky Stars". But we weren't lucky. We aren't fighting against the Americans, who at least accept surrender. These Russians are killing us and raping the people. They only have one target:Tokyo. Toto is calling for us to fight to the last man and woman, but this will be the end of us. Japan will not exist if this continues.
Now the sound of artillery fire is waking up Konata. We've been holed up in this bunker hidden in the forest twenty-five kilometers outside of Tokyo for three days now. The hill we are entrenched in is overlooking a choke point of a valley that enemy forces must move through to proceed to Tokyo. The walls of the canyon were rigged with several metric tons of explosives late last night by a kamikaze team prior to their permanent departure.
The resources that we had practically exhausted prior to the beginning of Operation Unthinkable were, ironically enough, bolstered through hit and run raids on Allied forces.
We simply have to wait for the Americans to trudge through the valley and collapse the entirety of the terrain on their heads. After that myself and Konata will pick the survivors off with American-made rifles. I am using a Springfield sniper rifle and my diminutive friend is shouldering an M1 Garand while pulling a Luger out of her holster.
We do not expect to come out of this alive. I am writing this so my friends who died in battle do not die in vain, and so we may perhaps meet again on another life, a life untouched by war. A life where the biggest concern we have is whether we are tardy in school. A life where my twin sister is not murdered before my eyes on our birthday by a man I believed was surrendering. A life where my best friend does not commit suicide as I write of our last moments on Earth. I am alone now.
My best friend has a clean hole in the center of her forehead. I cannot honestly say I heard the gunshot, even in this confined space. I was too busy contemplating my fate, though I find that to be selfish in itself. I stood up and grabbed my dear friend's pale hand. I dragged her dead weight out of the foxhole and we both fell into the valley. Laying there, broken and battered, I struggled to locate her corpse, and pressed the detonator, not wanting to live in this cruel world any longer.
The world shattered, and collapsed into nothingness.
A/N: I found this on my iPod, it's an oldie I wrote a while ago. I'm totally pumped about something that's similar in the essence that it's World War II and Lucky Star and ridiculous, but otherwise, this part is just a one shot I thought of near Christmas. A review would be wonderful! :3 ~Nihlius~