It had been three weeks under the hot Mediterranean sun, working long hours in the field, tiling the soil. Akito had never worked this hard in his life; his back ached, his mind numb from the repetitiveness of it all. Under different circumstances, he would have lain down his tools for lack of motivation, but in his proximity, he had accumulated a flock of eager-eyed followers. They too had no interest in farm work, but seeing Akito working until sweat soaked his clothes, they were stirred to imitate him and perhaps in doing so, capture his momentary attention. Among his followers, pretty young girls—who he could only say were 18 because they had been enlisted—worked with a purposefulness and grit that would have spoiled their image of delicate maidens back in Japan, but here they were able to take on their own air of untamed beauty.

Akito looked across the barren field, searching for the tall figure of Mura. He found her beside a much smaller woman, who after a moment he recognized as the fiery companion of Katherine. This girl, who Akito thought of as 'red streaks' because of her dyed hair, had become a kind of intermediary between Katherine, who spoke a pitiable amount of Japanese, and the rest of the recruits. The problem was that red streaks had so far displayed unwavering contempt for Akito. Surely, the girl would equally distrust Mura.

Mura returned to him, crossing the field swiftly with reaching strides. Finally having a good excuse to put down his tool, Akito rose to meet her.

"What's the news?"

"Do you really think I'm gonna get news out of that... girl," said Mura, twisting her mouth on that last word. Akito caught the foul word that was still on her lips, but Akito's followers were within earshot, and Mura had with some reluctance learned that a certain amount of respectability was required of a leader, which was exactly what she was becoming by Akito's side.

"Why speak to her then?"

Mura grinned and grimaced at the same time. "Because she doesn't want to speak to you. I must say that it is quite the foursome we have going here. Katherine whispers in Izumi's ear; Izumi summons me for a word; then I finally report back to you."

"What does Katherine want?" Akito's eyes returned to searching. He had been disappointed when Katherine had metaphorically rolled up her sleeves and got into the farm work, for he had had the hope that she would immediately discredit herself if she had organized this menial labour for them without participating herself. Still, sometimes she disappeared, and now seemed like one of those times.

"She says that Katherine will be gone for a time, and has decided to leave the oversight of the recruits in your hands."

At this, Akito allowed himself a toothy smile. "For how long?"

"Izumi wouldn't say, but I got the sense that it might be a while and that she wasn't too pleased about being left behind."

"Is she already gone?"

"Yes," said Mura, not saying more so Akito could savour that single word.

The next moment, Akito was drawing his attention away from Mura and directing it towards the near three thousand recruits spread haphazardly across the fields, and he projected his voice. "Work is over for today. Rest well for tomorrow; a new kind of work begins."

(new scene)

Earlier that day, Katherine sat with Izumi in their private dorm. The breakfast that had been brought in still hadn't been touched. The silence between them was heavy and ripe to be broken.

"What are we doing here?" demanded Izumi.

"I have already told you," said Katherine, her frustration showing through too easily. "The General Core gave me a list of understaffed barracks. This one was furthest from the frontline."

"I am not asking why we are in Southern Italy. Why are you and me here, right now?"

Katherine's gaze almost flickered away to the breakfast in front of them, as though that was a sufficient answer. Instead, she lowered her head and averted her eyes. "I made a terrible mistake."

"Well, are you going to tell me? So far, all I know is that you are leaving this afternoon to Paris for, by the look of your suitcase, more than a week, more than a few weeks actually. Please tell me something, so I can rid myself of the thought that you have come to realize how hard this life will be, and you're abandoning me."

At this, Katherine reached out to clasp Izumi's hands in hers. "No. Never. I haven't told you because... I don't want this to be another problem, another problem that I helped create... but now it is too late."

"Tell me now then," grumbled Izumi, withdrawing.

"Our presence here has caught the attention of an Italian politician, who will run in the upcoming elections. He has the mind that it is a good political move to copy our example; but it will not only be those of fighting age, it is the whole refugee population of Italy that he wishes to force into hard labour. I must rectify this. I must go to Paris and partition the Human Rights Council to suspend his candidacy."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" There was honest confusion on Izumi's face. "What was the point of keeping this from me?"

Katherine was momentarily lost for words. "You're not disappointed with me?"

Izumi instantly pulled Katherine closer and kissed her. "Oh, you have to stop blaming yourself for the horrible things that the bastards of this world do." Izumi then paused, failing to hide that impish smile of hers. "But I am a little disappointed that you didn't feel you could share this burden with me. So you'll have to make it up to me; you can bring me to Paris with you."

"I can't," murmured Katherine, the words like sandpaper in her throat. "I need you here. I have no choice but to leave Akito in command, and I know that he will not spend his time in command idly. I need you to be my eyes and ears. If Akito attempts something, something dangerous, I must know as soon as possible." Katherine tried to find Izumi's gaze. "Can you do this for me?"

"I suppose I don't have much of a choice." Izumi's face was the very picture of defeat.

Katherine rose to her feet and offered out her hand for Izumi to take. Izumi looked up at her sceptically, but when Katherine didn't budge, she took her hand.

"Are you taking me somewhere?"

"It's a surprise," said Katherine, trying on her most childish smile.

Only a forced smile flickered across Izumi's lips, but she didn't resist as she was led out of the dormitory. Katherine asked her to close her eyes when they got into a private military vehicle, which currently wasn't in use, and seemingly hadn't been used in a long time, and Izumi agreed without protest. She didn't even ask where they were going, preferring instead to exhibit only her disinterest. But, nonetheless, Katherine persisted.

They drove for a time, without a word between them. In the end, it was Izumi who broke the silence when she felt a cool breeze against her face. Her eyes shot open. The smell of salt air was in her nostrils. The image of where she was being taken flashed before her eyes.

However, her eyes barely took in the clear blue of the Mediterranean Sea, before they were dragged across to land on Katherine.

"I don't like the sea," she said, her dearth of emotion masking something much deeper. "I want to go back."

"Look again," urged Katherine.

She did. The sky was near cloudless, reaching over their heads down to the horizon, where sky blue met the blue of the sea. The sun was hot and burning above them, but the water sparkled with idyllic coolness and captured an image of summer that had for years been unreachable for Izumi within the refugee camp, trapped in a city from which she could not escape. But still she turned away.

"What are we doing here?"

They were nearing the beach now; here there was no sand, only a rocky outcrop, which could have been the reason why they were the only people in sight. Katherine parked the vehicle. Without answering Izumi's question, she stepped out.

"I don't like the sea," repeated Izumi, her eyes becoming lost in the waters that stretched out further than the eye could see.

"Aren't there so many beautiful things in this world for us to enjoy," said Katherine, as she started to walk away. "Why shouldn't we enjoy them?"

Hot red anger started to overcome Izumi; she slammed the vehicle door open and marched out. She reached Katherine in a few short moments, expecting to launch into a tirade from a safe distance, but before she knew it, Katherine had stepped forward and laced her arms around her.

With her mouth close to her ear, Katherine whispered. "I know what the sea holds for you. Even in the most peaceful times, you cannot help but see that Britannian warship approaching over the water. I know."

"Why take me here then?" she stammered, on the point of tears.

"Because your new life starts now." Katherine was leading her again by the hand to the waters. Together they stepped over the rocks. Izumi gave a small shiver in the cool sea breeze, but showed no sign of wanting to turn back. They kept walking until the water lapped up against their toes.

At this point, without warning, Katherine tore off her t-shirt, then before Izumi could say a word, her bra came off as well.

"What are you doing?" asked Izumi, trying to avert her eyes from Katherine's exposed breasts.

But Izumi knew exactly what Katherine was doing, and as she watched her wade a bit further, deeper into the sea, it was hard to keep down her own desire to cool herself on such a hot summer day. After days of working themselves ragged, this simple luxury was becoming irresistible.

Izumi also began taking off her clothes, placing them besides Katherine's on a large rock. It wasn't like they hadn't already shared a bed, but Izumi couldn't help but try to cover herself, feeling exposed in the light of day. But Katherine took her hand and together they disappeared beneath the water.

(new scene)

The plan had been straightforward: get some guns, give them to the recruits, and then start turning the recruits into soldiers. It had been a day and Akito was still stuck on the first step.

"Katherine is definitely behind this," grumbled Akito.

"Probably Irwin as well," added Mura.

They stood only a couple of meters away from the two Italian soldiers, who were guarding the storeroom where all the barrack's weaponry was kept. Akito and Mura were speaking Japanese, so they could say whatever they wanted in front of the guards. They might have been speaking an unknown language, but the guards still paid them so little attention to the point where Akito suspected that such had been one of their instructions. Another instruction clearly was that not a single Japanese was permitted inside.

"What do we do?" asked Mura.

"I don't know," was Akito's response, barely voiced, because he barely wanted to voice it.

While Akito unranked the Italian commander of the garrison, Cleto Bianchi, European inter-military hierarchy was still a colossal mess that the EU wasn't even close to resolving; usually in instances of cooperation between national militaries, some kind of agreement was arranged beforehand based entirely on the particular situation. In this case, Akito knew that if any such agreement existed, it wouldn't grant him unchecked authority.

"These Italian soldiers don't care the least bit about the politics of the British military," decided Akito, finally. "They are only here because Cleto gave them the order to stand in front of the door."

"So Cleto is our target?"

Akito flashed Mura a look. "Not in the sense that we are going to kill him. That would definitely cause a lot of unwanted attention. We can do something else though, something that would give him sufficient incentive to overlook any orders from above."

"I have been observing him," went on Akito. "He has the look of someone who was once handsome. In youth, perhaps he had imagined his name going down in history, or at least fame and fortune in this life. Now, past the prime of his life, with nothing of note to his name, he hates this world for robbing him of what he thought was his."

"I think you are reading too much into those brief moments we see him getting food from the canteen."

Akito grimaced. "I think I would hate the world as he does if I did not succeed. Yet, unlike him, I do not have a family to support; I would have no reason to stick around."

Mura almost said something, but her lips stayed tight.

"Anyway," said Akito, starting to walk away. "It is a good thing that I have never failed before."

That evening, Akito approached one of the prettiest Japanese girls. This one had had her eyes on him all day, and upon seeing him approach, she completely disconnected from the conversation with her friends; her eyes glued on him.

Without introduction, Akito spoke, startling with the others with his present. "I am in need of your help," he said, looking directly at her.

She allowed her cheeks to turn red. "Of course."

The two of them walked out of the mess hall together, with dozens of eyes trailing him. Once alone, walking down a vacant corridor, her voice had suddenly acquired a more alluring tone. "So, where are we going?"

"How much English can you speak?" asked Akito, in English.

"Some," she replied, now more timid, in Japanese.

"We're going to the commander's office." Akito went on without stopping to look at her. "Your task will be very simple. All I need you to do is go into his office and ask him to remove the guards from the storehouse."

"Why me?" asked the girl, her face twisted with confusion.

"You will do this for me," said Akito, hardening his voice with clear certainty. "After you ask the question, you will tell him that Akito offers him anything in return for his consent." Akito then repeated his instructions in English, so she wouldn't have to think of the right words herself.

Now Akito stopped to examine the girl. It was plain to see that she was still unsure of the meaning of all this, but at the same time she was trying to convince herself that it was definitely the right thing to do.

Without warning, Akito raised his hand to brush against her face. "You know I eat my dinners alone. I have been feeling lately that I could use some company."

The girl smiled with uncontrolled pleasure, bobbing her head up and down in consent.

They continued on their way to the commander's office. In their silence, Akito began to hear his own doubts in his head. How had he even come up with this plan? He almost blamed Mura for helping to instil in him this ruthlessness, but he knew she had nothing to do with it.

They arrived in the final corridor. Wordlessly, Akito pointed to the correct door. With a gentle push in her back, he urged her onward. She stumbled a little at first, but then as though with new resoluteness, she pulled herself up straight and almost marched towards the office.

As she knocked on the door, Akito disappeared around the corner to ensure he was not seen. A moment passed. He heard the command's gruff voice and then the door slam shut. Then he waited.

The seconds crawled past. He knew it wouldn't be quick for the girl to stammer her way through the English. He waited. He watched a minute take shape on his watch. Then another. He almost allowed his mind to imagine what was happening in the room. He pushed it straight out, instead focusing his ears for any noise.

Then there was the muffled thud as something struck the ground. Without thinking, Akito started to run. In the blink of an eye he was at the door and he thanked the heavens that it wasn't locked. He burst inside.

The girl was pinned against the ground. Cleto had one hand locked around her mouth, the other was unbuttoning his pants. His eyes instantly changed from a monstrous lust to defeat and humiliation as he looked up at the gun pointed in his face. He shrunk back like a cowering animal away from Akito, getting off the girl.

With his gun still trained on Cleto, Akito reached out for the girl's hand. But she didn't take it. He shot her a glance. Her eyes were scrunched shut, her body shivering. She still had her clothes on, so it couldn't be too bad, thought Akito; he decided to deal with her later.

Akito turned and looked down at the commander with eyes burning with righteousness. "I will report you for this. It will be the end of you."

Cleto said nothing. He didn't look up. Akito could see the man's lips twisting with hatred as he thought of something to say. Akito was going to give him time, crossing the distance between them in two strides and landing a hard boot in his gut, then he brought the side of his pistol down across the man's face, sending him sprawling onto the ground.

"I am thinking about ending this now or..." Akito knelt down beside the heaving commander. "Or from now on, you do exactly as I tell you. I become the commander of this garrison."

Akito rose and straightened himself. He wouldn't have employed such a method if he hadn't been convinced that Cleto would submit. The man had too much pride to allow his career to end in such a humiliating scandal. With his final words, Akito had watched the man's hatred transform into despondency as he accepted his fate.

However, now as Akito looked down at the trembling body of the girl, he felt sick. She still hadn't tried to get up, or moved at all. Slowly, Akito knelt down. Gently, he braced her shoulders and lifted her up so she could sit. But her eyes were still shut as tight as could be.

"No one will ever hurt you again," whispered Akito, leaning forward to hold her in his arms.

She lurched forward and then suddenly backward. Akito's eyes immediately flashed to his pistol in her trembling hands. Then it sounded.

For a moment, Akito thought he had been shot. But when the pain never came, he slowly turned his head. Cleto was dead, his brains leaking out onto the floor.

(new scene)

Mura had come as soon as she heard the gunshot. The moment she was inside the office, Akito locked the door. Even though the lock did little about the fact that the gunshot had already rung out like a minor tremor through the small base, it did give Akito some sense of control at a time when he desperately needed it.

"Well, this brings back old memories," said Mura, without the serious tone that Akito felt the situation deserved. At that point, she noticed the girl, now sitting in a chair in the corner, hugging her knees and burying her face.

"I don't blame her," said Mura, turning her attention to the dead Cleto. "I wouldn't have wanted to be touched by that thing."

"Nothing happened between them," protested Akito, weakly.

"But she imagined it happening, Akito."

"It would have worked... I could have had Cleto under my thumb." Akito wasn't sure why he was arguing. He then turned to the girl, suddenly realizing that she might be listening. She was barely moving. She had barely moved. It had taken Akito to lift her onto the chair.

"I never disagreed with this plan," said Mura. "I am not blaming you. Now really isn't the time. We have a mess to clean up."

Mura's calm, soothing voice dragged Akito's mind down from a distant place of wild thoughts and fears to the reality in front of him. It almost felt like this problem was manageable.

"No one will trust you after I tell them what you have done here." The girl's words were twisted and cold as Akito had never heard her before.

Mura moved to put herself between Akito and the girl, as though she was his protector. Still with her eyes peeled on the girl, Mura spoke to Akito. "We could straggle her and make it look like Cleto did it. It would give you all the more reason to have killed him."

Akito froze. He started to imagine how he had wanted this whole thing to have gone. Before Cleto had even lain a hand on her, she should have screamed. Akito would have charged in as the hero, protected the girl and pinned the Italian commander for the attempted crime. Afterwards, not only would he have removed Cleto as an obstacle, but also the girl would have gone out to share her story with the other recruits, telling them how courageous and noble Akito was. Akito's image would have soared to new heights among the recruits. Instead, he was now plummeting down to earth.

"Are you a monster?" she cried out, her previous ferocity breaking away, displaced by trembling fear.

Akito forced himself to look her in the eyes. "I am not."

(new scene)

Katherine hadn't even unpacked all her clothes when word came from Izumi. Cleto Bianchi was dead, and Akito had killed him. While Akito was at present under the detention of Italian soldiers, the situation was more than black and white, as there was a Japanese recruit claiming that Akito had acted to protect her against Cleto, who she said would have raped her. Soon the Italian police would arrive and Akito would be taken to Rome for his trial.

For the first few hours after hearing the news, Katherine had tried to make heads or tails of it. What the hell was Akito doing? The answer never came to her, so she gave up the line of inquiry, instead diverting her attention to the more important question. What would she do next?

A friend from her university days now worked in Paris, and they had decided to meet up for lunch. Thomas also had a few good connections within the EU bureaucracy, and Katherine went with the hope that she could use him to make headway with her petition to the Human Rights Council, which was notorious for ignoring everything and anything that came in front of them. However, now, Katherine just wanted someone she could talk to.

"I must confess I have always been a little intrigued by this Akito character, but it doesn't surprise me that he is a loose cannon," said Thomas, between sips of tea.

"Even though I know he has killed on the battlefield, I never saw him as a murderer." But Katherine paused, considering what she had just said. "It's not that, actually. Killing Bianchi is just too stupid for him; Akito is rash and too sure of his own success, but he isn't a complete idiot."

"The long game, perhaps?"

"There is no way he isn't going to prison. How is he going to play a long game from behind bars?" Katherine started to tap her finger against the table, quicker and quicker, causing nearby customers to flash her annoyed glares.

"I say, just look at this as a gift. With Akito out of the picture, you won't have any trouble keeping the Japanese recruits from the frontline, and perhaps parliament will even treat this whole matter as cause to reconsider their previous lapse of judgment."

Katherine considered that. It seemed strangely anti-climatic for her struggle with Akito to end so soon and so suddenly. However, unlike before when Akito had been in trouble and Katherine had felt a pull to come to his assistance, now she was perfectly detached.

"You couldn't be more right, Thomas. This is a gift, and I should accept it."

In the end, her friend didn't have any contacts for her to pursue, but nonetheless she left the lunch with a slight skip in her step. Even though it wouldn't be her, something was finally going to put a stop to Akito.

(new scene)

The last thing that Mura had said to him was that she would fix this. Akito had allowed himself to audibly laugh at the notion that this situation could be fixed, but even so he still could imagine Mura right now doing all she could for his cause.

But Akito didn't want to think about that. As he sat alone in his cell, he preferred to keep his eyes wholly focused on a periodic drip of water from the ceiling. He feared otherwise a boiling rage inside of him would burst up to the surface and utterly consume him. But in spite of his efforts, the question wouldn't stop ringing around and around in his head. Why had he chosen to save that girl, that girl who meant nothing to him, whose name he didn't even know, whose life would probably amount to nothing? Why had he made such a terrible mistake?

Akito had to find something else to distract him. It became counting the cracks in the cell walls. He reached 37 when without warning his cell door was thrust open. In walked an upright, bald Italian man in police uniform; he was followed by two others in similar but less impressive uniforms.

"I will be glad when our country is rid of you Japanese." He said it without directing any attention at Akito, as though it was simply a fact that he had to give voice to. Then he turned his sharp eyes onto Akito. "It will be a pleasure to escort you to Rome, where your fate awaits you."

Akito rose to his feet. "The Italians and the Japanese were once allies. Are those days too far gone?"

The police officer spat, more on impulse than anything else. "It is a mistake to bring up those times in this country. Japan may long for its days of empire, instead of being under the boot of Britannia. But Italy is now a great and proud country of Europia United."

"Let's not kid ourselves."

The fist came hard and knocked Akito down onto his hands and knees. Before Akito could get back up, the officer was already giving orders in Italian. Hands latched themselves around Akito's arms and dragged him up and out of his cell, then a bag was thrown over his head.

Without hearing another word in English, and certainly not in Japanese, Akito was thrown into the back of what he guessed was a vehicle, something that was confirmed when the engine grumbled alive.

His hands hadn't been bound, so he took off the bag only to find that he couldn't see a thing in the sheer blackness. Without any distractions, that suppressed anger started to take root. Without awareness of himself, Akito slammed his fists into the metal wall. The pain burned all the way up his arms, but it didn't stop him from doing it again.

"You want to be a fucking hero," cried out Akito, in Japanese, for his words were meant for only himself. "You idiot! You like the idea of being so upright and moral, doesn't it feel good? Sacrifice yourself for some pretty girl. How could you be so bigheaded? This isn't about you!"

Akito collapsed, his energy spent. Both arms ached and he was sure that his knuckles bled, though he couldn't see. He dropped onto his back, his chest heaving, both out of exhaustion and his lingering rage. But the anger was fading. After all, it would not save him. Nothing was going to save himself. It was time to give up.

He dragged himself up onto his knees. He was going to pray. It had been so long that he barely knew where to start. All he had were vague recollections from childhood to guide him. In the end it didn't matter; he had no faith in the deities of his country, surely if they did exist, he was too far away from home. He had someone else in mind and he didn't imagine she cared much for ritual.

"Witch, please hear me. If there still lingers a connection between us, I reach out now to ask a favour of you. All those years ago, you asked me what was my reason for living and I told you I intended to save my country. In return you granted me a power I am still yet to understand, but I ask now that you take this power from me and give it to another. I can no longer fulfil my mission, but there is one called Mura who will fight until the end, who will do whatever it takes. She is stronger than me, more deserving of a witch's power. Please do this for me."

There was only silence, of course. Akito expected nothing else. However, the exercise of prayer had helped his mood. He sat back as comfortable as one could in a metal cell. He had always hated his life, anyway. The idea of Mura continuing on after him freed a burden from his shoulders. He closed his eyes, though it didn't make much difference in the darkness. It was time to rest, time to accept the end.

The vehicle came to a violent stop. Akito's dreams vanished just in time for him to stick out his hands to stop his head from striking the floor. He tentatively got to his feet, paying attention to the muffled voices outside, even though they were speaking Italian. They were coming closer.

The door of his prison was flung open. Akito raised his arms to protect his eyes in expectation of blinding light, but it was night. It would have been just as dark outside as in if not for the fact that two of the Italian guards held torches. Beyond them there was only the flicker of shadows under moonlight, no sign of civilization.

Akito had expected to see the not-so-friendly but familiar face of the officer, but the man who grabbed his arm and dragged him outside was wholly new, and that was also true for his companions. There was that flutter of hope that wormed its way into Akito's heart; maybe this was a rescue. Why gruff, middle-aged Italian men were rescuing him? That he couldn't say. Then he saw in the torch-light an officer's badge on a uniform. He was still very much in the custody of the Italian police.

"Why have we stopped? What are we doing here?" asked Akito to no one in particular. He realized that he was trembling.

His words reached his captors. Two of them gave him a brief glance, but he saw the lack of comprehension on their faces. Even if somehow he could have talked his way out of this, now he knew that wasn't a possibility.

Without wanting to, his eyes followed one of the torchlights. At its end, there was a man hunched over, working the ground with what definitely was a shovel. Akito's gaze fell into the hole that was being dug; in the night that absolute blackness completely consumed him. Its nothing filled the emptiness inside himself. He was becoming that. He would become nothing.

"No," cried out Akito, startling those near him. "Where is the due process? What about my trial?" He looked at them desperately, searching their eyes, hoping for something there, but they were as blank as if they were listening to the bleats of an animal. "I didn't even kill him. Surely one of you can understand me. I didn't kill him!"

Two of them seized him and started to march him towards the black hole. With each step, his heart raced faster, his eyes flashed back and forth, back and forth, searching for an escape, but his captors held him tight, their grip too strong to break free of. Then there he was, standing over the blackness; he could feel it as though it was waiting for him.

In those last moments, he decided that he must take the final step, and in doing so at least regain some of his dignity. But his whole body was shaking violently. He couldn't move. Then their images started to come, filling up every inch of him. But the only thing he saw were their dead bodies, as he had seen in the photos that had been sent to him. As much as he had hated receiving such horrific images of his own family, now he recognized a stillness and peace in their lifeless expressions. They had had each other in the end, died in their own country; he was completely alone, on a foreign continent, to be buried where no one would find him.

Akito turned, raising his eyes to stare directly into those of his captor. "I will only accept death when I stand on free Japanese soil."