Letters to the Field

by Bar-Ohki

AU Mamori’s boyfriend has gone out to war, so she tires to keep in touch by writing letters. This is all fine, but the boyfriend in question is a known bad boy…. HiruMamo

10. Tenth Correspondence

Mamori had been dusting the tea cups in the cupboard when she heard her mother screech from the kitchen. Since her mother screeched about a lot of things these days, Mamori shook her head and went back to her task at hand. A short while later her father's heavy footsteps walked into the kitchen. There was a short muttering of low voices that Mamori tuned out while she worked.

"Mamori!" Her father called from the kitchen. "You have mail!"

And so Mamori set down her duster and made her way out of the shop and into the house, specifically the kitchen. At the table sat her stunned mother and behind her mother stood her father, looking mildly amused. He handed her a crinkled envelope with mud stains. Mamori took it, a little perplexed, and opened it. The moment her eyes took in the pointy, jagged cursive she gasped. What a pleasant surprise! Youichi had actually written her like he had promised!

My So-Called 'Fucking Woman'-

As par your fucking, fucking, fucking request I am actually writing you a god forsaken letter from this hell-hole they call a 'trench'. Fucking trench. Fucking war.

Happy? You better damn well be.

-Sgt. Y. Hiruma

By the end of the short letter, Mamori was, of course, irritated. She forced a smile to her parents.

"I'm going to go back to the store." Mamori announced. Her parents shared a confused look while Mamori stomped away. She set the letter on the counter, grabbed the broom (that he had given her) and began to sweep up a furry to calm herself.

"Mamo!" A young girl came bounding into the café, having completely disregarded the 'closed' sign on the door. The girl was smiling and waving an abused letter in her hand.

"Sena wrote me!" The girl squealed happily and promptly sat herself down on one of the recently-cleaned stools.

"That's nice Suzuna." Mamori commented with that same forced smile.

"You look like you and elf-bro just had a fight." Suzuna observed, having seen that smile on Mamori's face more than once. Mamori only cleaned furiously with a forced, almost psychotic smile, after she had a fight with Youichi. Despite how long Suzuna had known both Mamori and Youichi, she never really understood what Mamori saw in the man. Youichi was rude, gruff, and liked to partake in shadier, more sinful pastimes. For a complete contrast, Mamori was a kind, well-liked, mothering sort of church-going girl.

"He sent me a letter." Mamori answered and only pointed to the paper that had been left on the counter. Suzuna picked up the paper, having been curious what the devilish man had wrote.

"Looks like he means well…." Suzuna commented as she read the obviously sarcastic comment about this letter making Mamori happy. "Sena didn't really talk about the war either, maybe there isn't much to say?"

Mamori stopped her mad sweeping and set the broom down. That was one of the things she admired in Youichi, how much he really did care about things. He might hide the fact he cared from others, but he really did love and look after everyone, especially Sena….

With a renewed determination, Mamori took her letter back from Suzuna and re-read it. She saw a man who was tired of the fighting and didn't want to needlessly burden his lady back home.

"So what are you going to write him back?" Suzuna asked.

"I think I'll tell him what's happening here," Mamori remarked after a moment's thought, "because I'm sure he'll want to know."

She tried to compose her reply that evening, but the words escaped her. It took her several nights of trying before she finally called her letter done and because she wanted it to be perfect, she wrote multiple drafts (hence why it took so many nights). The final draft came out something like this:

Youichi-

Mother said that you wouldn't write me, she told me you were such a horrible, unhonorable man that couldn't keep a promise. You probably can't imagine the look on her face when she found a letter from you in the mail. Father told me it was rather priceless.

I knew that I could count on you to prove her wrong!

The fact you actually sent me a letter seems to be the only thing that anyone's gossiping about these days. No one wants to talk about the war, or how people might be doing out there. But we always have the radio running, even during the night, to see if there's been any news.

This war has really sucked the life out of this town. Everyone's so quiet and somber. Just goes to show what happens when you take all the young men away.

They started rationing food. It's really rather confusing what they choose to be rationing and not. Gasoline and meat I understand, but I don't really get why they'd ration coffee….

Would you mind telling me how things are going out there? The radio is usually full of politicians telling us about why we are fighting and occasionally there will be some announcement, like the rationing….

I hope you are well and safe out there.

Lots of love,

Mamori A.

And Mamori kissed the end of her letter, sending just an extra touch of love with it.

Since her mother had been clearly upset by the experience, Mamori took it upon herself to check the mail everyday. She found herself worrying and becoming anxious towards the end of the month, when Youichi was to send her his reply. There was always the chance she pressured him too much and he decided to stop out of spite and there was also the chance he'd die out on the field. Either way when the boredom set in, the worry did along with it.

Right on the last day of the month, Mamori was graced with a mud-stained, crinkled envelope addressed to her in Hiruma's pointy handwriting. She smiled and carefully tucked the note into her apron for reading later because she had to run the shop that day.

She turned on the radio in the shop and watched as the old farmers slowly come in for a cup of coffee after a long day toiling the fields. There were several ladies about her age too. This was because the fields needed working and the only available labor were old men and young women.

"What's that, Miss Anezaki?" One of the girls asked as she eyed the messy envelope hanging out of Mamori's pocket.

"Oh that's a letter from my man." Mamori smiled. "It came in the mail this morning and I haven't had the time to read it yet."

"Read it now!" One of the other girls insisted.

"Please read it out loud, I want to hear!" Yet another female occupant of the story insisted.

"Well… okay." Mamori gave in and opened up her letter, she read the first line silently and quickly folded it up and pushed it back into her pocket without another word.

"You're not going to read it Miss?" One of the old farmers asked.

"I-its' personal…." Mamori explained with frantic waving of the hands and a flustered expression.

"Giv' it 'ere," another old farmer reached over and plucked it out of her pocket, "gotta makes sure this lad isn't takin' advantage of ye, Miss, yous too good for a bad lad."

And with that, the old farmer read her letter out loud in front of the entire shop.

Fucking Woman-

You are using me to prove to your fucking old lady that I'm capable of being honorable. As much as that fucking amuses me, it pisses me off a lot more.

The only reason I wrote you a fucking letter is because I had nothing to fucking do besides try and not get my ass shot off.

You can't handle what's really fucking happening out here anyways. You're too fucking sheltered and I do not have the fucking patience to deal with your fucking old lady telling me how I shouldn't have done fucking this or fucking that.

I'm going to stop fucking writing if there's no point in it.

-Sgt. Y. Hiruma

"Oh! Elf-bro replied!" Suzuna smiled, having walked in just in time to hear the start of the letter reading. Mamori was so red-faced and mortified she wished she would die.

"Miss, why him?" The farmer asked, looking upset and disappointed. "Nuthin' good comin' out of that 'Iruma 'ouse'old. Nuthin' good a'tall."

Mamori snatched the letter from the farmer's hand and looked around the room with a cold stare.

"Youichi volunteered to go fight for our country right when this war started and he's been fighting all this time without any support from home! We need to love our men who fight to keep us safe! You hear it on the radio everyday!" Mamori ranted in front of everyone.

The radio then started spewing some propaganda about supporting the soldiers from home. Everyone in the room hung their heads and was a little sheepish.

"Now I'm doing what any good girl does and she makes her man write her so that she knows he'll come home safe." Mamori finished after the radio quieted down. "You might not approve of him, but he's been working and fighting for all of us, please remember that."

"Well, now Miss Taki, how's your brother doing?" One of the other farmers asked to break the awkward silence.

"Ungh!" Suzuna didn't even want to start.

After the change of topic, Mamori efficiently took care of the rest of the orders in the shop and chatted about less important matters, like Mr. Mizumachi's pet ferret, Hanners, and Mr. Gaou's goldfish, Twig. After the last of the costumers left Mamori cleaned up and re-read the letter.

Mamori was irritated that Youichi was sheltering her. Protecting her was one thing, but sheltering her was another. She was mad. And so she told him so. Then she thought and decided to make conversation about what she heard on the radio, the infamous and amazing Company 021.

Youichi-

You shouldn't say things like that! I am not so fragile I will break and I am highly capable of dealing with my mother! Besides it not like she has the means to write you herself and she certainly does not have the means to harass you in person! You need to loosen up and be less paranoid!

On the radio the other day I heard about this Company 021. Apparently they managed to cause some form of major break through by sneaking behind enemy lines. They had been outnumbered and out gunned! It must have been amazing!

I bet that company is full of brave and valiant soldiers! Have you met them? And if you have, what are they like!?

And how are you doing, physically?

Lots of love,

Mamori A.

Mamori kissed her letter again, still sending a bit of her love with it.

'He needs all the support we can give.' Mamori thought that evening. She remembered the day she fell in love with the bad lad, Youichi Hiruma.

Youichi walked into the shop, calm and collected. His slit-like emerald eyes scoured the room, taking in all details with a cold, deadliness. He walked across the room, a bit of black air following him and scaring the other customers. As usual Youichi sat in the stool at the far end of the bar. He picked up a newspaper and started reading it, knowing that Mamori would make him his coffee exactly how he wanted it.

"It's a nice day today." Mamori commented happily as she set the cup down before the somewhat evil man. He was known for blackmailing, gambling, and shunning the church. His father hadn't been such a great man either, everyone just found the Hiruma family to be bad blood. Mamori just thought that was stupid and always tried to reach out to Youichi, even if he pushed her away.

"Too fucking perky." Youichi grunted his usual greeting to her. "Shut up, fucking woman."

"I have a name, you know." Mamori reminded him with a slight huff. She was also one of the few people that managed to get away unscathed when opposing Youichi's will.

"Do I fucking care?" Youichi asked blandly then sipped his coffee wordlessly.

"It'd be nice to hear it at least once." Mamori pointed out.

Youichi, to everyone's surprise, folded up his newspaper and looked her in the eye, with those amazing green eyes of his.

"Mamori," Youichi told her, his eyes full of something that she couldn't quite read, "I'm leaving for the fucking field tomorrow, shut the hell up!"

And Youichi went back to his newspaper and his coffee without another word. Mamori stared at him, her heart beating fast and her breaths too short. His amazing eyes, that's what she really loved, those amazing eyes.

"He said my name…." Mamori muttered, remembering that well enough. "He does care, that idiot, he cares too much…."

And her letter went into the post that morning.

Mamori was not appreciating how between the old farmers and Suzuna that the rest of the town was well aware of the fact that Youichi had written her two letters. In fact most people had heard the contents. With a sigh, Mamori continued to dust off the counters, hoping that when her next letter came it wouldn't wind up being recited around town….

"Ma'am," Tetsuo, a very small presence lad who had managed to escape the draft, poked his head into the shop, "I have your mail." Tetsuo was the current mail currier because all the rest of the able bodied men were out in the field and the older crowd was tilling, or supervising the tilling of the fields. The only one who was able to get up and deliver the mail and the paper was Tetsuo by default.

"Oh!" Mamori blushed, embarrassed that she had forgotten that she had asked the currier to deliver her letters from Youichi personally. She rushed over, picking up her skirts, and took it from him.

"Thank you." Mamori was sincere and smiling.

"Anytime ma'am," Tetsuo tipped his hat, "good luck with that one, he's a feisty one ma'am."

Mamori shook her head and sat down to read the letter before the customers came in.

Fucking Woman-

You are such a fucking idiot, that's my fucking company they are talking about and everyone in here's a fucking moronic shit-head. Except myself, fucking badly, fucking old man, and fucking shinny, but even then they have their god damn moronic moments too.

Company 021 is full of the stupidest people you will ever see. God dammit. The only useful thing about these idiots is that they are very, very fucking hard to kill.

If you must know, we're the only fucking company in this entire fucking military that hasn't lost any men yet. We are fucking alive.

-Sgt. Y. Hiruma

Mamori paused and thought. With Youichi there were two things, what he said and what he meant. He wasn't ever terribly direct about anything. She knew that Youichi had little patience for people he considered stupid, but being at war kind of prevented him from having much of a choice it seemed….

'He must be stressed….' Mamori thought to herself. Youichi always wanted coffee when he was stressed.

"He's in Company 021!?" Mamori gasped as Mr. Gaou came into the shop, his goldfish was in the bowl tucked under his arm.

"The interesting one wrote you again, hmm?" Gaou eyed Mamori with amusement. For reasons that were never exactly explained to Mamori, Mr. Gaou called Youichi 'the interesting one'.

"Oh yes!" Mamori blushed.

"Well, read on then, I'll just watch over Twig." Mr. Gaou set his goldfish on the table and watched it affectionately. Mamori never did understand why he was so infatuated with that goldfish, but then again, Mr. Gaou had taken a rather nasty wound to the head when he was in the last war and hadn't been quite right in the head since.

Pulling her eyes back onto the page, Mamori continued to translate the next passage. The phrase 'hard to kill' startled her. Something had tried to kill them. A battle where Youichi's and Sena's lives were on the line. And to top that no news as to whether or not he was unwounded!

Mamori started to cry.

She yelped in surprise when an enormous hand set itself on her shoulder. She turned her head and looked up into the face of Mr. Gaou. He had a sad, serious understanding expression that she hadn't seen him wear since he left for his war.

"Could I read it?" Mr. Gaou asked. With a nod, Mamori handed him the letter. She watched as the wild veteran's eyes read the page carefully.

"...Surviving battles is important for any company," Mr. Gaou commented, "but losing your soul is a fate worse than death." He handed the letter back to her.

"Mr. Gaou?" Mamori asked, unsure of what he meant.

"It's your job to lift his spirit." Mr. Gaou told her simply. "I'll have a mug of that Moon's Roast, if you don't mind."

"S-sure." Mamori muttered as she tucked the letter away and started to prepare the coffee. After a moment's thought she realized that this was the coffee Hiruma always ordered. Well, after his month visiting the shop anyways….

Youichi Hiruma had just moved into their town. He was a boy of thirteen years, with amazing, sharp emerald eyes and a head of beautiful raven hair. Somehow his gazed pierced into the hearts of those who made the mistake of looking into his eyes. Apparently he was the bastard son of that Yuuya Hiruma (that shady man!) and had come to live in their town as his mother had recently passed away.

People in the town were weary of Youichi before they even met him, mainly because of the basis of being Yuuya's son. Youichi didn't seem to care and instead he wandered around the town, learning all the places and niches to play and cause mischief in. At the end of the day, he stumbled upon the Anezaki's Coffee Shop.

Now, Youichi liked coffee very much, so he went inside. Behind the counter was a little girl who simply smiled at him and beckoned him inside.

"Welcome!" Mamori greeted the boy that must have been Youichi Hiruma, as his face was new and the town was small. "Would you like anything?"

"…I want that." Youichi pointed at the thing called 'Sun's Roast'. "Black."

"Okay!" And with that Mamori made her way around the shop and machines with practiced ease. Youichi watched her carefully, not too sure what to think of the only person in this whole town that treated him kindly with open arms. It wasn't that anyone else had been unkind, it was more of the fact that they were in that neutral spot of 'we'll tolerate you' before he even had a chance to open his mouth.

Youichi sat down on the last stool at the end of the bar and accepted the coffee when it was done. Youichi took a sip and nodded. He reached in his pocket to pay.

"Oh, you don't have to do that!" Mamori told him. "You're new, so this one's on me!"

"Tch. Whatever." Youichi muttered.

"You should be nicer to someone who just gave you coffee!" Mamori growled at him.

"You should make better coffee then!" Youichi snapped back at her.

"You-!" Mamori was furious, she grabbed a broom and proceeded to chase Youichi out of the store with it. He laughed while she did so, having more fun than he had in ages.

Because of that fun, Youichi came back around the same time every evening to try a new roast on the menu. Of course Youichi would tell her the coffee sucked, because in his mind no coffee was worth drinking if it hadn't been at least as good as the stuff his mother made. Usually Mamori would grow angry at one of the insults he made and would then chase him out of the shop with a broom. By the end of the month, Youichi had finally arrived at the last of the items on the menu, Moon's Roast.

It had been a rather wet day and though Youichi had shed his wool coat, he was still chilled from the cold. Mamori was waiting for him, a cup already made.

"I didn't order, you fucking moron." Youichi glared at her.

"You've been trying everything on the menu, right?" Mamori pointed out, "the only one you haven't tried yet is Moon's Roast."

She was right.

"Tch." Youichi rolled his eyes, sat down and took a sip. His eyes opened wide with surprise, he hadn't had coffee like this ever! It was as good as the coffee his mother had made, no, maybe it was better. Youichi simply stared at her, his amazing green eyes so wide.

Mamori didn't say anything, she was just ignoring him and dusting one of the cups. She didn't know she had just made the best coffee he had ever tasted. Youichi looked down at his cup and continued to drink, letting the warm coffee fill his belly and body. For a minute he was in his mother's kitchen and she was smiling down at him….

After finishing the coffee, Youichi reached into his pocket and paid for his coffee, then hopped off the stool and left, leaving a confused Mamori behind him.

Every day that followed, Youichi came in for a cup of black Moon's Roast….

"My coffee?" Mr. Gaou asked her, having made the counter clatter by setting his enormous hand on it. Mamori yelped in surprised, apologized and finished preparing the coffee. She handed it to him and he took it with a smile.

Mr. Gaou slipped the coffee and smiled even wider. "I see." He said cryptically, finished his coffee, paid, and left.

Mamori was putting the change in the cash register when she realized that if Youichi needed a pick-me-up, he'd want Moon's Roast! Now, inspired, she rushed off into the house to get a pen and paper to write her reply.

Unfortunately she forgot that she left her latest letter on the counter where Suzuna would find it about ten minutes later.

Youichi-

I'm so glad to hear that you're alive! Everyone back home was worried about you! Every time I listen to the news, I hear your company's number, 021, all the time. You guys are becoming such heroes!

It means a lot to me that you wrote me a letter (could you please use less 'fucking' next time?) and I would like to hear your physical condition next time. I worry for your health, I hear those trenches are best at growing diseases.

If there is anything you want from back here, I'm willing to send you small packages in my replies. Since I know you hate military coffee, I sent you a small pack of 'Moon's Roast', that's your favorite right?

Lots of love,

Mamori A.

Mamori smiled to herself as she surveyed her handy work. For once the letter had come easy to write to her hand. She had focused on the positive, made a fair pass at trying to see if he was wounded or not, and decided to offer her charity. She rushed down stairs to see that Suzuna and the farmers were already reading her letter.

"Oh stop that!" Mamori snapped, grabbing the broom Youichi gave her and slamming it down.

"Sorry." One of the farmer's muttered and handed her back the letter. Mamori huffed and started to prepare Youichi's coffee. She ground up the beans added that little pinch of sugar and tucked it in a little bag. She then snatched a filter after a moment of thought, since she didn't know if they had those out on the field, and put them booth in the envelope with her reply. She addressed and stamped it in front of everyone.

"Now, Suzuna, why don't you run this out to the post for me?" Mamori asked.

"Uh, okay." Suzuna took the letter and left.

"Any other orders?" Mamori turned to the rest of the crowd. And they answered in kind.

"Not today?" Mamori asked Tetsuo as he went about his deliveries.

"Not today." Tetsuo nodded and gave her a sad smile. "I'm sure he's just busy. Sena hasn't sent anything recently either."

"Ah." Mamori nodded and understood well enough.

"Besides they usually send you a letter when someone goes missing or is killed, so take some comfort in that." Tetsuo reminded Mamori as he walked away.

"Bye!" Mamori waved and felt somewhat deflated. Hiruma's letter was late. There was always the potential he stopped writing, it made Mamori mope around anxious and depressed. The radio hadn't been much of a comfort either, she hadn't heard about Company 021 in a while. It was almost as if they had disappeared off of the face of the world.

She went back to the shop to open up and clean up just a little more. Not too long after opening a tall man in a large trench coat with pointy ears stepped into the shop. Mamori gasped slightly, Yuuya Hiruma, the town recluse, the town madman, and the father of Youichi Hiruma, stepped into her shop.

"M-mr. Hiruma!" Mamori was surprised rather than scared. "Are you sure you've come to the right place?"

"I'm sure." Mr. Hiruma assured her as he hung up his coat and hat, revealing his head of short-cropped brown hair. He turned around and faced Mamori. To her surprise, as this was her first time meeting the man, he had a round face with tiny emerald eyes. The same amazing emerald eyes Youichi had. He walked across the room and made motions to sit in Youichi's chair.

"Oh sir-!" Mamori reached out slightly, her words and actions stopping the man, "-that's a reserved seat, you can't sit there."

"Oh, okay then." Mr. Hiruma nodded and sat down on the stool beside it. He glanced around the room and his eyes feel on the broom Youichi had purchased for Mamori several years back.

"…So you're the one he bought the broom for…." Mr. Hiruma remarked, having always wandered who had been given that broom. He recalled the day Youichi had come home, 15 years old with a black eye and a broken broom, demanding to be taken to the general store to buy a broom.

Yuuya had known he had had a son. His mistress had made a point to write him and send him a photograph of the baby with undeniably pointy ears just like his father's. When she had fallen ill with consumption, she had written Yuuya saying that when she finally died, Youichi would be coming to live with him.

'Take care of our baby, please.' She had wrote.

Yuuya hadn't known what to do with his 13 year old son and his son hadn't known what to do with him. They had been strangers from the start. So all Yuuya did was provide his son a roof over his head, clothes on his back, and three meals for his belly. Youichi simply left the house during the day, going to school when it was open, and doing whatever he did when he was out and about (Yuuya hadn't heard any complaints so he didn't really care).

Occasionally, like any good young lad would, Youichi would come home sporting bruises and scraps and the like. Some where obviously from play, others were from fights, so all Yuuya did was patch up the boy in silence, because his son was just being a boy.

But to Yuuya's shock, his son came home, 15 years old, sporting a black eye, cut lip, and a broken broom. His eyes were ablaze with an emotion Yuuya couldn't quite place as it seemed somewhere between furry and regret. Youichi hung his head for a moment, took a deep breath then looked his father in the eye.

"I need to buy a broom." Youichi announced. "Now."

Not really sure what to do other than to nod, Yuuya grabbed his wallet and wandered into town, into the general store, for the first time in years. Everyone in town gave the two a wide breath, stared in shock and awe, and usually whispered amongst themselves after the father and son had passed. Once they arrived at the general store, Youichi ran over to the brooms and looked over the four kinds carefully.

Yuuya shared a confused look with the shopkeep; his son was literally fretting over which broom to buy. He would pick one up, give a sweep against the floor, mutter to himself then pick another one. Even when he ran out of brooms to try, he retried them over and over. After about an hour, he brought the broom he had chosen and went up to make his purchase.

"This was paid for in full," Youichi told the shopkeep, "if anyone questions that, set them straight." And with that he ran out of the store, the broom in his hands.

"What was that about?" The shopkeep asked Yuuya.

"Your guess is probably better than mine." Yuuya answered. He hadn't heard about, or seen for that matter, the broom again since then.

"Oh, that's because old Habashira came into the shop and picked a fight with Youichi…." Mamori muttered recalling the memory.

Youichi had come in for his usual coffee, sitting down in his usual spot. Today was one of the days in which the field work had been finished early, so it was crowded. No one saw Youichi enter or sit down and no one ever took his stool at the bar either. Mamori served up the coffee and Youichi handed her the pay wordlessly. He hadn't missed any days since he had started coming to the shop in the two years he'd been living in town. Though, he didn't ever get anything to drink if Mamori's mother was tending the shop instead of her.

Habashira, the town lawyer who no one liked, came in and grabbed Youichi's shoulder, sending the entire room into silence.

"Let's have a word, son." Habashira ordered.

"I'm having a fucking coffee, leave me be fucking chameleon." Youichi smacked the man's arm off his shoulder and took a sip of his coffee.

"No, you're not." Habashira said and grabbed Youichi's suspenders and tossed him onto the room floor. The coffee cup that had been in Youichi's hand flew out of it, smashing against the ceiling and raining coffee and white porcelain all over the floor.

"What the fuck!?" Youichi demanded only to have Habashira attack him again. The fighting quickly escalated into a brawl as the two threw each other and punched one another. Mamori, wanting the violence to stop, had grabbed her broom and yelled at the two. It was enough to make Habashira stop and hesitate, though Youichi did not. Youichi reached out, snatched the broom from Mamori and smacked it over Habashira's head, knocking him out and breaking the broom.

With a mortified gasp, Youichi fled the shop with the broken broom.

Everyone finished their drinks while Mamori started to mop up the coffee cup mess. Everyone paid and left, someone taking Habashira with them (to take him home). About an hour and a half later, when Mamori wanted to use a broom to clean up the last of the mug she stood up to go get a broom, only to almost run into a nervous Youichi. He had a new broom and was offering it silently to her, his gaze on the floor.

Mamori took it, thanked him, and continued cleaning. Youichi flashed her a smile that she didn't see and left.

"Well anyways, it was awfully nice of him to replace it for me." Mamori chuckled at the memory. "What brings you here, Mr. Hiruma?"

"I'd like a cup of coffee, the kind my son likes, please." Mr. Hiruma told her with a smile. Mamori nodded and prepared a cup for him.

"I hear he's been writing you." Yuuya commented as Mamori handed him the steaming cup.

"He has." Mamori answered, picking up a mug to dust.

"And swears like a sinner in the letters." Yuuya sighed; his son had always had a habit of swearing.

"That's just how he is." Mamori said simply.

"…Do you know how he's been?" Yuuya asked her. He'd been worried about Youichi for some time and the only person who'd really know was Mamori….

"I-!" Mamori stopped when Tetsuo came rushing into the shop, waving an abused envelope in his hands.

"I'm sorry-!" Tetsuo panted, "-it got stuck in the bottom of the bag!"

"Oh, thank you!" Mamori smiled and took the letter from Tetsuo.

"H-have a good day." Tetsuo tipped his hat and walked out of the shop, trying to recatch his breath. Mamori looked at the envelope, smiled because it was from Youichi, and opened it up.

"That's-?" Yuuya stopped when Mamori nodded.

"I'll read it to you." Mamori assured the man and started to read her letter.

Fucking Woman-

There is not one fucking person back in that fucking town that actually gives a shit whether I live or die. Not even that mother fucking bastard that sired me. Quit trying to feed me sympathetic shit. It. Pisses. Me. Off.

I don't have time for your fucking womanly nonsense anyways, I have three new recruits to break in because my fucking superior's too drunk to do it him-fucking-self.

Fucking war. Fucking, fucking war.

-Sgt. Y. Hiruma

"…I see." Yuuya said after she was done. He paid her and got up to leave.

"M-mr. Hiruma-!" Mamori wasn't really too sure what to say, Youichi had been rather mean in his letter.

"Tell him that I do care about him," Yuuya told her, "even if I am a horrible person at showing it…."

Mamori sighed and re-read the letter. Youichi was stressed and upset about something he wasn't telling her. She shook her head and decided to write a reply. She got the first few lines done when the normal crowd came in for their coffee. She put both letters away and started to take orders.

Half way through the rush the room fell into silence as four strangers walked in. They were clad in military uniforms and all of them were haunted. One of the stranger's was on his friend's back because he simply didn't have legs to walk with. All four men were covered with scars, both physical and mental.

"Would you like some coffee?" Mamori offered.

"Yeah." The one carrying the other man admitted. The farmers rearranged themselves quickly so that the soldiers had a table, with chairs, to themselves. Mamori fixed them all coffee to their liking and refused to take their money.

"You've already given more than enough to our country," Mamori told them, "I don't need to be taking what you have left from you."

They decided not to argue with her.

Mamori retreated behind the counter and finished writing her letter, now more worried and anxious than she had been before she had started.

Youichi-

If you didn't always seek out the worst in people you would realize how many people in this town do care about you. Because I care about you and I'm worrying about you and your welfare.

A few soldiers came through town today, they were heading home. And they were a mess! One man had to be carried because he didn't have legs anymore! I keep on getting nightmares about you and Sena coming home like that…. It's horrible.

Please, please tell me how you are doing physically! And be honest, it's not much of me to ask.

And your superior is drinking!? Why didn't you tell me that when you were home!?

Lots of love,

Mamori A.

"Have you heard any news about Company 021?" Suzuna asked them. "Three of the lads from our town are in it and-"

The legless solider raised his hand to silence Suzuna.

"I don't know if they are alive," he began, "I heard they were sent out on a Death Trap."

"W-what's that?" Suzuna asked worriedly.

"It's what happens when two officers have a disagreement and settle it by seeing which Company survives attacking another Company." One of the other soldiers remarked. "Usually brakes the surviving Company's spirits."

A mug shattered against the floor. Mamori's hands were numb and limp and tears were flowing down her face.

Silence filled the room.

Mr. Gaou walked in, saw the soldiers and nodded to them. He crossed the room, a concerned expression directed Mamori's way. He glanced down at her finished letter and picked it up.

"I'll mail this for you." Mr. Gaou told her and tucked it into his coat pocket. He paid money for a coffee he didn't order then said.

"Company 021 is full of strong-spirited lads, they won't let something like a Death Trap destroy them." Mr. Gaou remarked to everyone in the room. And with that he left.

Days.

Weeks.

A month.

And there was still no word from Youichi. The radio was babbling about victories and spewing more propaganda. It gave her nothing to quell her worries. With the new ban on coffee the shop was emptier. The town was duller and everything was more silent. Suzuna hadn't heard from Sena either, so she was joining Mamori in the empty shop. Neither said anything, both just sat around, waiting, hoping, praying for news, for something, anything.

Both girls jumped when the door opened and Tetsuo stepped in.

"Tetsuo!" Mamori gasped, not really expecting mail. Did he have something for them?

"Well, I thought I'd tell you that I'm enlisting." Tetsuo admitted as he walked into the room. "And that I've been assigned to Company 021 under the command of Master Sergeant Doburoku Sakaki."

"Doburoku Sakaki?" Mamori muttered, trying to place the name.

"That's Sena's commander!" Suzuna gasped. That meant he was Hiruma's commander too!

"Do you-!?" Mamori was cut off by Tetsuo raising his hand.

"They gave me a list of all of the members of my Company," Tetsuo smiled, "Kobayakawa and Hiruma are on the list."

"They are okay!?" Both girls cried, so happy to hear the news.

"Why don't you see for yourselves?" Tetsuo asked them as he held up their letters. Both girls cried and grabbed them. Mamori threw her arms around Tetsuo in a big hug.

"Thank you so much!" Mamori cried onto his shoulder. "You'll look after them, right?"

"I'll try." Tetsuo assured them. Mamori pulled out the letter and read it.

Where the hell's my coffee?

"What!?" Mamori was appalled. She spent so long worrying about Youichi and this is how he treats her!?

"Hmm?" Suzuna looked over Mamori's shoulder and read the letter. "…Why's he want coffee? Don't they have that on the field?"

Suzuna was confused because as of two weeks ago, coffee went on the ration list. This made business somewhat difficult for Mamori's family, since their life hood was making coffee and cakes for others. Recently the town decided to give all of their coffee ration slips to the Anezaki family and the Anezaki's would make them their usual coffee, at discounts of course.

"He's so infuriating!" Mamori snapped, grabbed a pen, and started to write a letter. She was furious and worried.

Youichi-

You call that a note!? You didn't even bother acknowledging me in the slightest! Give me one good reason why I should ever send you coffee again! I sit here all day worrying about you and Sena and working so hard to keep everyone in town's spirits up and what do you do!? You demand a coffee! I don't actually have the beans to spare most of the time. Everything's on rations, especially coffee!

Lots of love,

Mamori A.

In anger, the paper crinkled and the letters came out blotchy. Mamori set down her pen, pushed the letter aside and proceeded to cry. His letter had let her down and hurt.

"Mamori…!" Suzuna muttered.

"…I'll be taking my leave now." Tetsuo saluted the two of them. "Have a nice day girls." He turned on his heel and left.

"I'm going to my room." Mamori announced, grabbed her letter, and marched up the stairs to cry some more.

"Mamori, hunny," Mamori's mother called from downstairs, "Mr. Gaou would like to speak to you!"

"Mr. Gaou?" Mamori muttered. She got up, washed her face, and went down stairs to greet the veteran.

"…I heard about the letter." Mr. Gaou remarked as he observed Twig swimming around in his little bowl.

"I'm sure everyone has." Mamori muttered as she sat down across from Gaou.

"…You sent him coffee at some point didn't you?" Mr. Gaou asked her and got a nod. "He's homesick out there, I think."

"Homesick?" Mamori blinked.

"Your coffee is something he's had everyday since he came to this town, no? He misses it I'm sure." Mr. Gaou told her. "The battlefield, it's a place where you lose sight of everything too easily. Take care to remember that when you write him next."

And with that Mr. Gaou picked up his goldfish and left.

Mamori thought about Mr. Gaou's words as she walked up the stairs. They'd had some bad luck up there recently, she realized. When she thought about luck her left hand immediately went to grab the little four leaf clover charm she wore….

"Oh!" Mamori rushed upstairs, took off the bracelet and put it in the envelope with her reply. While she was doing that she recalled something Mr. Gaou had mentioned earlier.

"Give the man a reason to come home. Money borrowed or a favor owed. Keeps 'em safe."

So she wrote a small little note to go in with it.

return it

It was in the post the next day.

Mamori knew she was going to send coffee in her next letter to Hiruma, she was sure he'd need it. It had to be Moon Roast with that pinch of sugar, he never liked it any other way. Of course, her father happened to also be fond of Moon Roast which, with the rationing, made it extra difficult for her to get her hands on. But Mamori was not one to give up easily. So she was in the café, cleaning up tables again, and plotting a way to snatch coffee from her dad.

"Looks like you have some mail!" Came the sing-song voice of Mr. Mizumachi. He was a tall, lanky man with bright smiles and joints that seemed to go beyond the normal reach for a person. Despite the fact he walked around on a peg leg (lost the first one in the first war), he wasn't really slowed down by it. Currently he was wearing the postmaster's uniform and enthusiastically waving an abused envelope around in the air. The same kind of abused envelope she always got from Youichi….

"Really!?" Mamori gasped and hurried over. Mr. Mizumachi opened the letter with a flourish and read it out loud to her, despite her protests.

Fucking Idiotic Woman-

Since you've asked so fucking nicely, I'm going to give you a fucking reality check.

I'm spending ever god damn day in a fucking trench wondering if I'm going die that fucking day. I'm spending every god damn day killing other people so that I don't fucking die. And I spend every god damn day doing my drunken superior's job because this fucking war's broken him so bad that the only damn thing he can do anymore is drink!

You're trying to keep the town's spirits up? I'm trying to salvage what's left of our fucking moral! There's nothing here but fucking death, fucking disease, and total hell.

You, little miss fucking sheltered, need to send me my fucking coffee now.

-Sergeant Y. Hiruma

"Sounds like you made him really angry." Mr. Mizumachi commented tactlessly as he handed her the envelope and letter back. "Have a nice and happy day!"

Then he danced right out the door without another word. Mamori sighed, she preferred Tetsuo as a postmaster.

The next morning, when Mamori was helping her mother cook breakfast, her father innocently asked her to prepare his coffee that morning. Of course, Mamori began to prepare the coffee by grinding the beans while her mother grabbed a filter.

Instead of putting the coffee into the machine, Mamori poured it into a little bag, with a small smile on her face. She took the filter from her mother (who wasn't paying too much attention), then remarked she had to grab something from upstairs. Before either parent could question it, Mamori was up the stairs and writing her next letter.

Youichi-

I'm sorry, I had no idea it was that bad. They only glorify it on the radio.

I had to sneak this behind Father's back. It was supposed to be his coffee this morning.

Lots of love,

Mamori A.

At the end she kissed the letter, sincerely hoping her love would reach him.

She had been thinking about the contents of her letter since she had gotten Youichi's reply. Indeed she had felt bad and humbled, which is why she strove to right the wrongs by sending him some coffee. She knew he'd be amused to hear how she'd done it. Quickly she sealed the envelope up and rushed out the door to put it in the post before her father realized what she had done.

After Mamori had put out the mail, she returned to making her father's cup of coffee without any hint she had stolen it. Her parents had asked why she had hurried up the stairs like that.

"I wanted to get my letter out to Youichi as soon as I could." Mamori answered. Her father frowned, making his disapproval clear. He had never liked the Hiruma family, something he made very clear at every possible opportunity.

"Father," Mamori looked at her father, "he only wants to know how everyone in town is."

"He's lying." Her father answered with a firm, dismissing tone. The topic was closed and he had had the last word.

"Make your own coffee then." Mamori snapped, angry. Youichi didn't do anything to deserve that hatred.

"Now Mamori-!" Her father protested, but Mamori had left. Her mother simply gave her father a look, clearly annoyed.

"She's just trying to help dear." Her mother told her husband plainly. "You and I both know his father isn't doing it."

"I don't get why she tries so hard to save that brat." Her father snorted.

"Something she feels strongly about." Her mother answered thoughtfully.

And so more days past. Mamori took care of the coffee shop, her mother kept the house, and her father helped with the fields. There was a small break in the routine when Mamori and her mother took a short trip to the big city to see if they could get a goat.

As luck would have it, Mr. Mizumachi came by to deliver the latest letter from Youichi while the ladies were away. He was wiser than he appeared to be, because he did not give the letter to Mr. Anezaki (who would had burned it). Instead the unorthodox veteran delivered it to Suzuna.

The young gossip was more than happy take the letter. When Mamori returned, Suzuna rushed over for a ladies' night and happily read Mamori her newest letter.

Miss Mamori Anezaki-

Hello ma'am, I am Corporal Gen Takekura, Sergeant Hiruma's second-in-command. I am transcribing this letter on his behalf as he is currently recovering from a hand injury. It isn't anything serious, he just strained his thumb while using a machine gun the other day and is under explicit orders from our medic, Munakata, to not be using it for a day. I thought I would apologize for anything he tells me to write in advance, as Private Kobayakawa tells me he generally wishes to write swear words in his letters. I would like to assure you that despite this habit of his, he is a wonderful guy and a good leader.

-CPL. G. Takekura

Fucking Woman-

I have to admit I am fucking proud to hear that you've finally grown enough of a fucking spine to actually steal your own beloved fucking old man's coffee and give it to me! There is hope for you yet!

Whatever the fucking old man told you, ignore it. He's too fucking a sentimental old fool for his own good.

-The fuck!? What the hell do you mean I should be fucking 'nicer' you fucktard!?-

Fuck you all!

-Sgt. Y. Hiruma

"-and that's how elf-bro got hurt!" Suzuna announced.

Mamori only stared at her friend then numbly took the letter from her and read it herself. Suzuna opened her mouth to say something else when she noticed Mamori had lost all of her excitement and happiness. Her face was set in a blank frown and her eyes were a blur of painful emotions.

"…Did Sena say anything?" Mamori asked, nervous.

"…Sena didn't write me yet." Suzuna answered quietly. Neither girl said anything while Mamori looked at her stationary. She picked up a sheet of paper and started to write worriedly. Her letters were hurried and falling off the lines.

Youichi-

You're hurt!? Are you okay!? Did it get infected!? Are you better now!? I am so worried!

Corporal Takekura seems like a very reliable man. I hope you thanked him properly for writing that letter up for you. And would you extend a thanks from myself as well?

Please, please tell me something I can do to help!

Lots of love,

Mamori A.

Mamori put her hands up in a small prayer then kissed the paper. She hoped and prayed that someone, some angel, would watch over Youichi right now.

Mamori spent most of her time anxiously awaiting Youichi's next letter. He'd been injured and it was worrying her sick.

"Mamori," her father started firmly, "you're going to go and visit the Ichiro Takami today."

"F-father?" Mamori turned around and gasped.

"You've been too busy and absentminded as of late! And on top of that you had the gull to steal my coffee the other day!" He had found out much later, of course, but he had found out that Youichi had gotten his cup of coffee.

"But-!" Mamori protested to deaf ears.

"No buts! Hirumas are bad blood and I will never consent any love or marriage with you and that family! So today you will take your mind of that bloody boy and go visit Ichiro!" Her father raged.

"Wait-!" Mamori protested uselessly.

"I already told him to be expecting you, are you going to make a lair out of me?" Her father asked her, ready to punish her if she said 'no'.

"N-no father." Mamori dropped her head. "I will do as you wish." She stood up numbly and started to retreat. Her entire posture was that of a hurt, broken person.

"Mamori, please," her father reached out a hand to his retreating daughter's back, "please understand. This is for your own good…."

Mamori stopped at the foot of the stairs. She didn't turn around but her expression was sad and thoughtful.

"…It always was." Mamori remarked, then went up the stairs without another word.

While she was away, a beat up, stained letter arrived. It was addressed to Mamori, from one Sergeant Y. Hiruma. Mamori's mother had found it, of course, and she opened it up.

Fucking Woman-

-Get me another cup of fucking coffee-.

Get me two cups of that fucking coffee.

-Sgt. Y. Hiruma

And was horrified by what she saw. She'd heard the rumors about the letter's contents before, but it wasn't until she actually looked at the letter that she saw what kind of a savage man Youichi was. His handwriting was scrawly, scratchy, and untidy and all around poor. Looked much like a drunk man had written it. His paper was stained, abused, and had probably been used to clean someone's boots before it was actually written on and sent. Then there was his crude language-!

How dare he address her baby girl as a 'fucking woman'!

Enraged, she took the letter right to her husband and didn't bother to notice another letter had fallen to the ground.

Miss Anezaki-

Hello ma'am, I am Specialist Atsushi Munakata under the command of Sergeant Hiruma. I was informed you had an inquiry about his hand injury from last month. I would like to tell you that he was testing out a new machine gun that had not been properly set up and got his right thump jerked pretty good from the recoil. Nothing was broken, nor was anything bleeding. His thumb was a little swollen and spazimed a little if he tried to use it. I had him restrict his use of that thumb for 24 hours with periodic icing. He was right as rain after that. The only issue was the day of injury and restriction happened to have corresponded to the evening he typically writes you. Corporal Takekura transcribed the letter on the Sergeant's behalf. Other than that minor incident, the Sergeant has been in excellent health. I hope your worries are laid to rest now.

-SPC A. Munakata

Mamori had arrived at the home of Ichiro Takami. He had been injured as a child and had a lame leg so it was impossible for him to partake in the war effort. He was tall man, with chiseled features and clean cut hair. He was very well-kept and well-mannered. He was nothing at all like Youichi and exactly what her parents would think a good match. He was their town preacher and five years her senior.

"Father Takami?" Mamori asked, poking her head into the church. In her arms she had a basket full of fruit and the like. An offering from her parents of course, but Mamori knew better. Father Tamaki was a bachelor and a stable man. He didn't make a good deal of money, but everyone in town respected him greatly. Of course her father would want her to seek a marriage with this man.

"Mamori!" Father Takami turned around and flashed her a kind, gentle smile. "My child, please come in!"

Mamori stepped into the church and quietly walked over to the Father's side. She silently offered him the basket from her parents. Having not completely gotten over her conversation with her father, Mamori looked defeated and sad. Gently, Father Takami took the basket from her and set it to the side.

"What's wrong my child?" Father Takami asked gently. It was easy for him to see that she was distressed.

"My-my parents do not wish me to support the man I love." Mamori admitted sadly.

"Why is that?" Father Takami asked. "Is he in debt?"

"No, he's out fighting in the war." Mamori corrected.

"Youichi Hiruma, he's the man you love, yes?" Father Takami asked. Mamori nodded with a blush.

"I've spoken to Youichi multiple times, he is not a bad person inside even if he does wish others think horribly of him." Father Takami remarked. "And your parents made you come her to try and banish thoughts of him?"

"Not quite," Mamori's gaze dropped to the ground, "father wanted me to pursue you instead."

A startled expression turned disapproving so quickly that one could not have even realized that Father Takami had found this to be news. He set his hands on Mamori's shoulders and pulled her into a small hug.

"Let's go talk to your parents about this." The Father suggested. "They've done us both a disservice."

Upon arrival, both Mamori and Takami were surprised to see just how venomous her parents were. Youichi's letter lay open in the middle of the table for all to see. Beside it was a peace of pretty rose paper and a red pen.

"Mother? Father?" Mamori asked, concerned.

"Mamori, you're not going to be writing that bastard anymore," her father told her, "so we're going to write him and tell him to stop sending us mail." He sounded certain.

"Mr. Anezaki that will not be what we are doing next." Father Takami corrected. "Instead I will be having a word with you and your wife about your actions as of late."

"Father Takami?" Her mother looked at the priest, confused.

"Mamori, why don't you take Youichi's letter upstairs and write him a reply?" Father Takami requested. Mamori nodded, grabbed the letter and rushed up the stairs.

That's when Father Takami adjusted his glasses and made his expression turn black….

Mamori didn't start writing the letter right away. She was a little shaken by the gull of her parents. She turned on the little radio in her room in an attempt to hear more about the war effort. Team Naga this, Team Naga that, it'd been the subject all month. The enemy's most destructive offense….

She thought about Sena, about Youichi, about what she had been doing, about what he had been doing.

"Mamori," Father Takami knocked on the door, "there's another part of his letter."

"What!?" Mamori gasped and opened the door. The Father handed her the report from Munakata. Mamori read it quietly and was a little startled to find a pack of sugarless gum at the bottom of it.

"I know he doesn't chew it around you, but he's always enjoyed a stick around me." Father Takami winked then left.

Youichi-

You could be a little nicer about asking for the coffee!

How was the first cup anyways? You never tell me if it was any good. Either way, it is good to hear that you're still alive and well.

The radio's been talking about Team Naga a lot lately, it worries me. I hope you don't have to encounter them.

How's Sena doing? Suzuna never tells me what he writes her about. I share with her what you send me!

I am thankful that you didn't use 'fucking' so excessively this time. It makes me very happy.

I just want you to know that I still support you and wish you well. I know you hate God and Church, but I go and pray every day that you'll return home safely one day. I know you'll hate me for it, but I'm at my wits' end and -I just-

I'm going to do everything, even if you hate it, because it can't not help. So there!

I also recall that you liked sugar-free gum, so I sent you two packs. I hope they last until I hear from you again.

Lots of love,

Mamori A.

Delicately, lovingly, Mamori kissed the bottom of the letter.

"I'm in love with you, please come home-!" Mamori prayed, fighting the tears back. "Please-!"

After her parents had had that talk with Father Takami, Mamori had been able to do as she pleased. She was still worried and depressed. It came out in all the things she did. She tried to stay near radios for news, but with more time on her hands than she needed and the lack of customers, Mamori grew to be a nervous wreck fairly quickly.

"Hey miss." Mr. Gaou looked at Mamori carefully. He had Twig under his arm, as usual, and a pie in another hand.

"Mr. Gaou!" Mamori was a bit startled.

"Sit down and have some pie with me, would you dear?" Mr. Gaou set the pie down on one of the many empty tables. With a nod, Mamori sat down and looked at the pie carefully.

Youichi used to bake pies….

Every fall, just after the fruit came into season, everyone in town would go down to Hiruma's orchard and pick their choices of fruit for pies. It was the only occasion in which anyone willingly set foot on the Hiruma family property. Mamori had always found it strange that Mr. Hiruma was never about during this. Everyone in town had something between a hate and a fear of the man and that was enough to keep back their greed when they went about getting their pie fruit. The tradition had been in the town for years, before the Hiruma family had fallen into 'bad blood'.

When Youichi arrived there had been a lot of muttering. Would the son inherit the orchards? Would the son tolerate the continuation of the tradition?

Given Youichi's crude and mischievous manner, no one could say for sure.

Mamori, like the rest of the town, was out in the orchard. She couldn't find a tree that wasn't already occupied or stripped of all of the reachable ripe fruit. So, with a determined frown, Mamori strayed further and further into the back of the orchard. She was so focused on finding good trees, she'd wandered away from where the rest of the town was and into Mr. Hiruma's personal orchard.

Mr. Hiruma and Youichi were there, of course. Youichi was up on his father's shoulders picking something out of a tree she hadn't seen before. Later, Mamori would learn that was a pecan tree and that Mr. Hiruma was very particular about it. Right next to the special tree were some blackberry and raspberry brambles.

"Can I pick these berries?" Mamori asked.

Mr. Hiruma turned around and was clearly surprised.

"There aren't enough to make a fucking pie." Youichi told her dryly.

"Youichi! Don't you swear!" Mamori admonished him.

"He's right though," Mr. Hiruma consented, "there aren't enough to make a pie out of left."

Mamori frowned.

"…You can pick the rhubarb." Youichi pointed at that plant. "And the strawberries. Those make good pie."

Mamori smiled, thanked them, and went about her gathering. Her mother had been extremely surprised when her daughter returned with rhubarb and strawberries. Sadly, Mamori nor her mother knew how to prepare rhubarb pie.

Youichi had walked into their kitchen a couple hours later, still covered in muck from the orchard, and started to wordlessly show them how to make the pie. Both ladies watched in amazement as the young Hiruma deftly prepared the pie for them. He even made the crust from scratch.

"Pa said you wouldn't know how to make rhubarb pie." Youichi explained after he stuck the pie in the oven. .

"Your Pa was right." Mamori's mother admitted.

"You can make pie?" Mamori asked Youichi.

"Of course I can." Youichi made a face at her. He had been raised by his single mother, she had taught him how to cook and sew. Not something many knew about him.

"Would you like some juice while you we wait for the pie?" Mamori's mom offered.

"Coffee." Hiruma corrected her. "I want some coffee."

When they got around to eating the pie, Mamori discovered it was the best thing she had ever tasted. From that year forward, Youichi always made her a rhubarb and strawberry pie in her mother's kitchen from scratch. After the first year, Mamori would pick raspberries and blueberries and make Youichi a pie with those two fruits. It was discrete, but they would always exchange pies in her mother's kitchen.

And they certainly never entered their pies in the town's competition. It was their special thing.

"Rhubarb and strawberries…!" Mamori muttered when she tasted the pie.

"Mr. Hiruma gave it to me to share with you." Mr. Gaou explained.

Mamori ate her pie quietly, wishing it was Youichi's pie. This pie tasted completely different, it just wasn't the same. For fear of having to eat pies that didn't taste the same, Mamori had refused to go to the Hiruma family orchards until Youichi returned. A lot of people in town were unable to attend, so no one paid Mamori's lack of a presence any mind.

That's when the radio announced that Company 021 was going to be sent to deal with Team Naga.

Mamori dropped her fork. Mr. Gaou said nothing and understood.

Two days later Mr. Mizumachi arrived with a letter for her.

Fucking Woman-

Your gossip is fucking obnoxious.

-Sgt. Y. Hiruma

And the letter had done nothing to quell the fears that rested inside her. Mamori cried right then and there in front of Mr. Mizumachi and her father. Her father only turned away with a frown. He had been afraid of this- that scoundrel breaking his little girl's heart. Right now that Youichi better be planning to die on the battlefield because if he comes home, he's going to get shot my Mr. Anezaki the moment he sets foot in his shop.

Mamori composed herself and then composed a reply. Hopefully he would understand where she was coming from. Hopefully he would do something to quell her worries-!

Youichi-

I care, do you realize that? I care a lot! I'm trying to keep you in touch with people who are still leading fairly normal live so that you can come back and be at home.

I know you might not get along with everyone in this town, but I want you to have some place safe to come home to. I want you to come home well and safe. So please, please don't insult me and push me away.

The radio just said that your company would probably be sent to 'deal with Team Naga'. I'm worried, they seem to destroy everything we throw at them with ease. I hope you don't have to encounter them….

Just please, tell me how you are doing for once. Sena too.

Lots of love,

Mamori A.

Mamori carefully packed in the little bit of coffee and the sugarless gum. She felt hopeless but it was all she could do to support him.

"Youichi, be safe…." Mamori muttered and kissed the envelope again. "Come home…!"

Things were quiet after the announcement about Company 021 being sent to attack Team Naga. No one said anything besides the bare minimum. Harvest was a quiet, hard affair this year. Most of the food was being carted down to the train station then sent off to the battle field. Normally there would be a celebration and a great deal of preserving going on for winter. But with the lack of men in town, the women made enough for themselves and sent the rest away.

In the Anezaki household, canning was done in a sacred silence. Pickling and other preserving was done in silence. Meals were done in silence. The normal feast that would be occurring to celebrate harvest was a somber memorial for those who had died and who might die.

The only sound was the static of the radio which said almost nothing. Even the propaganda had gotten quiet.

Mamori had been watching the shop, in silence, listening to the radio's white noise when it started to crackle and make words again. People rushed in at the sound of the words that broke the silence over the town. Mamori hadn't realized it had been so loud until the entire town stood in the shop listening-

-announcer was currently remarking there was news.

'Company 021 has completely whipped out Team Na-'

-cheering exploded from the occupants of the room. Excited, relieved, and proud chattering filled the room. For this town, Company 021 had turned into their boys (except Youichi of course) and their victories were always worth celebrating.

Mamori was finally able to celebrate and weep in the shared relief when she heard there hadn't been any deaths amongst the members of Company 021. Youichi survived, that was enough for her.

After the initial excitement calmed down and a round of alcohol had been brought out, Mamori found herself feeling a little distant. No one was saying anything about Youichi, it was as if he hadn't contributed at all to the effort of that amazing battle. For Mamori it was heartbreaking to not hear him be praised. She knew Youichi was a brilliant thinker, that he was one of their ranking officers. He was the leader and he didn't exist!

Biting back a sob to keep from destroying everyone else's joy, Mamori fled the room and went into the solace of her bedroom. She took out her letters from him and slowly reread the small collection. His words weren't reassuring on the surface, but she understood he didn't want her to worry. He tired to behave as he always had so she could have some sense of normalcy, so that she would know that at least his mind hadn't been eaten alive by the war just yet.

Youichi was like a black coffee, bitingly bitter and startlingly hot. But at the same time he woke you up and warmed you up inside, despite his bitter ways. Mamori took comfort in this. He was changed, yes, but only on the outside. The core of Youichi's person was the same and it was that core she was in love with.

"…What if we got married?" Mamori asked the room in a startled whisper as the thought had just struck her. Oh the town would talk and talk and talk. People would claim she lost her mind and estrange her like they had Youichi. Or would they acknowledge him and the fact that maybe Mamori understood something they didn't?

As Mamori lay there on her bed, she thought about married life with Youichi. She'd probably move into his house, since his family had the land and the orchards. She'd help him tend to those trees, she'd wake up and make him coffee every morning and he'd read the paper and swear at her about something or other, but it wouldn't be as cutting. She could imagine his small, pleased smile that he always wore when he was enjoying one of her coffees.

And then there were the matters of lovemaking and children-!

Mamori blushed. Oh Youichi would be an amazing man in bed, she was sure. But proper women wouldn't think of such things and she was a proper woman.

"Mamori! Come down here and help me with the shop!" Her mother called.

Mamori sighed, shook her head, composed herself, and steeled her heart for a long afternoon.

In the weeks that followed the announcement, Mamori was only partly glad the radio was running again. It was spewing more propaganda, as was to be expected, and from what news it did give from the battlefront things seemed to be doing a great deal better. Though Mamori had no complaints about that, there was no news on Company 021 which made her anxious.

"Ya~ Mamori! What did your letter from elf-bro say?" Suzuna cried as she came bursting into the coffee shop one morning. In the young girl's hand was an abused piece of paper that had clearly come form the battlefield. Mamori could only stare at the letter and gasp. The very tears she'd been trying so hard not to cry since the announcement of that victory finally overtook her.

Suzuna's enthusiasm and joy had died the moment she saw Mamori break and crumple to the floor in tears. Normally she and Mamori got their letters at the same time so Suzuna had assumed Mamori had gotten hers separately, but Suzuna had been wrong.

Mamori hadn't gotten a letter.

Youichi had failed to write her.

Suzuna found herself crying a few angry tears. How could that man abandon the one woman who fought so desperately to stay at his side? How could Youichi possibly do something like that?! Didn't he love Mamori!?

Later that evening, after Suzuna had calmed down Mamori and comforted the distressed woman, she took the time to read the letter Sena had sent her.

Youichi had gotten a horrible arm injury. It was nothing short of a miracle that caused the doctors to be able to put it back together. The Company had refused to move without their Sergeant and the military had respected that wish.

Sena had visited Youichi while he was suffering from an injury or a surgery induced fever. It had been painful to see how sick and delirious the once brilliant man had fallen to. Youichi had been going on, trying to get some ghost of Mamori that only he could see to talk to him the entire time Sena had been in the room.

Suzuna could only gasp as she read that. Youichi hadn't actually abandoned her, he'd been incapacitated, but if his fever had been that bad why hadn't they sent him home to recover?

Reading on in the letter revealed more answers. After a several days, Youichi's fever finally broke and he came back to his wits again. Unfortunately once he was better enough to leave the tent, the Lieutenants and other commanders wanted Youichi's help. The victory against Team Naga had been too good and drawn too much attention to Youichi. Sena depicted the sad story of Youichi's painful recovery and over-working at the hands of his superiors.

No one in the Company had stopped him because they knew that this what Youichi wanted. Youichi wanted to be a commander because he was good at it. Yet the price because of his arm was too much for his body.

The military wasn't giving him the time of day to recover from his injury, let alone write Mamori. Sena was too scared to do so himself. Scared of what Youichi would do to him if he found out. That fear was something Suzuna understood, but she recalled Mamori breaking that morning and decided that Sena staying idle wasn't going to help this.

Suzuna decided she was going to try something else. There was a telephone in the town over and she was going to try and contact Sena on it. Mamori's need for help was too great and writing Sena wasn't going to help with this. There had been a solider who had just returned from the battlefield, a fairly high ranked commander of some kind, a Lieutenant Kid that Suzuna had met by the phone.

After explaining to the man what she had set out to do, the Lieutenant had offered to make the call and get her direct contact with Sena. Suzuna took the man up on the offer and while they waited on hold together, she got to hear about how Lieutenant Kid had returned home briefly to burry his father.

Once the Lieutenant finally had gotten through to the base, he managed to get Sena on the line and handed the phone to Suzuna and told her to be quick about it.

Suzuna was quick to relay to Sena the amount of suffering Mamori was experiencing and her advice to him. This was mostly because she was so wrought with worry she just burst and let it all out on Sena. He was understanding.

"You have to make sure that Youichi gets some time to himself and that he uses it to write her! She's falling apart!" Suzuna all but sobbed.

"Roger." Sena sounded almost disattached and super serious. He sounded just like the soldiers that came back from the battlefield and it made Suzuna worry. What happened to Sena's happy, carefree personality?

Would he react the same way to her words of worry for him as he had to her words of worry for Mamori? Suzuna bit her tongue.

"Suzuna, take care of yourself, okay?" Sena wished her, his normal almost hesitant tones came back.

"I will." Suzuna assured him. "You take care of yourself too."

And the two parted again. Lieutenant Kid said he would make sure that Youichi was getting better care when he returned if he wasn't getting it already. With that finally done, Suzuna could go back to her other task: keeping Mamori sane until Youichi wrote her again. It was a hard week for the two friends. Each day Mamori went without word from Youichi she seemed to slip away a little bit.

Then the abused, mud-covered letter arrived addressed to Mamori.

Suzuna watched, fascinated, as Mamori trembled through opening up the letter. She watched once competent hands shake and unsteadily open up a piece of paper.

Fucking Woman-

You are in no place to be making fucking demands. I write you your fucking letter, it makes you fucking teary eyed and happy, I'm so fucking sure. And if you plan to whine every time you send me a fucking reply, I won't read it.

So fucking there!

Get me a third pack of that gum.

-Y. Hiruma

Youichi had simply picked up where he left off, it was just late. The ongoing argument between the two hadn't changed; there had just been a pause. A heart-wrenching pause.

Mamori cried again, this time with relief.

Suzuna didn't offer and explanation, but Mamori could figure out her own. Mamori guessed that Hiruma was more injured than he would have had liked to admit and just didn't bother to tell her.

"His handwriting is tired and strained," Mamori explained, "I bet he was in a good bit of pain when he wrote this. He's such a fool for thinking he can hide it."

In all honestly, Suzuna was fairly sure Mamori was only saying that to convince herself that this was the case. Secretly though, Suzuna wished she had the courage to tell Mamori what had really happened. The best thing would be to have Youichi to tell her what had happened, but given his personality, that wasn't going to happen.

Electing to not say anything, Suzuna nodded. She wished there was some way to cure this situation.

And there was, just in a very unlikely form.

It came in the form of Mr. Habashira who came into the coffee shop grumbling about something or another. Everyone steered clear of him since he was in the mood to pick a fight. No one had dared pick a fight with him after the second one he had with Youichi in the coffee shop.

Like usual, Youichi was taking his daily coffee when Mr. Habashira stormed into the shop. He had kicked open the door and let the torrential down pour splatter into the room. Several patrons were now unpleasantly wet and all were chilled by the gust that had accompanied the rain. Glares were directed at Mr. Habashira for not being considerate.

Youichi didn't glare, but he did start frowning. He slowly turned his head to see the lawyer go about grumbling and finding a place to sit. Deciding he wasn't going to be grabbed by his suspenders and thrown into a fight, Youichi went about finishing his coffee and paying.

On his way out Mr. Habashira only growled something fowl about Youichi's mother at him as he walked by.

The lawyer had called his mother a 'whore'. Youichi went rigid and clenched his fists hard. Everyone could tell that insult struck much, much harder than anyone intended. Mr. Habashira was oblivious to this.

"So it's true huh? Your damn bitch was just sleeping around with that bad blood father of yours-" Mr. Habashira had been laughing until Youichi's foot collided with his face. Without any further hesitation, Youichi was on top of the man beating on him hard and fast.

"Don't you dare say that about my mother!" Youichi screamed, tears rolling down his face. The entire room watched as Youichi cried and beat on Mr. Habashira until the man finally stopped struggling and passed out.

"Son?" One of the farmer's asked only to have Youichi snap around to glare at him. Standing up, Youichi trembled with emotion and pure anger that was unlike him. No one really knew what to say, so they all watched in silence as Youichi grabbed his coat and left. Mr. Anezaki came in a short while later and made an announcement that there was to be no more fighting in his shop.

"Get me some coffee, wench!" Mr. Habashira demanded from Mamori. The room grew silent as they watched Mamori turn around with a frown.

"I beg your pardon sir, but I don't think I heard you right. Could you please repeat what you just said?" Mamori requested, giving the man a chance to take back his insult.

"Wench!" Mr. Habashira snapped. "Or should I say 'whore'? You are sleeping with that bad blood bastard boy after all."

No one in town ever spoke of the fact Youichi was a bastard child. No one had the gull to.

"Mr. Habashira, how could I possibly be sleeping with someone that's in another country, fighting in a war?" Mamori asked blandly.

"That bastard is fighting?" Mr. Habashira laughed. "It's more like he's pretending he is so that he can get all the honor for no work! He ought to die, that he-!"

Mamori slammed her broom down on the man's hand.

"Get out." Mamori told him, her patience gone.

"Wha?"

"Youichi nearly got himself killed fighting off Team Naga," Mamori told the foolish man tensely, "and your words have slid too far. Get out."

Mr. Habashira only moved when Mamori began to smack him out with her broom. She swept out all of the foulness of that man diligently and thought nothing of it.

Suzuna could only smile when she saw the strength return to Mamori's gaze. Her stubborn friend was past her little row with Youichi for now.

Two days later Mamori's mother made an inquiry about her daughter's latest past time: knitting.

"I'm just making some mittens for the soldiers." Mamori answered. "The radio said they were short."

It was honorable enough and honest enough that her mother thought nothing more of it. Mamori went back to her knitting. She was good at making the stitches, but planning out a design was impossible for her. Not being deterred from doing it anyways, she tried to carefully knit a little 'devil bat' onto the back. Devil bat was some kind evil-looking bat-like creature Youichi had drawn for school one day.

Mamori had been the only one who thought it was cute. She had snitched the drawing from the bulletin board of shame (at least that's what the art teacher called it) and put it up in her room. No one had asked what happened to the picture and Mamori was sure Youichi didn't know she had it.

Once her knitting was done, Mamori went about writing another letter. She decided to keep up their little ongoing spat, to give him some normalcy. She decided to not mention how painful it had been to wait for his letter. Or that she was going to support him the way she had been despite how unkind his letters had been.

Youichi-

Would it kill you to tell me if you are unwounded or not?

And if you plan to be an ass about this, I'll just stop sending you your coffee and gum.

So there yourself!

I heard you managed to defeat Team Naga! We were all so happy, we cried. Suzuna still hasn't been giving me news about Sena's welfare, would you mind sending me some next time please?

I sent you some mittens this time. I hear that they are a shortage on the field and I just want you to not lose any fingers. You always had such amazing, nimble fingers, it'd be a real shame if you lost them. Let me know if the mittens don't fit.

And so you know, I was defending your honor the other day. One our customers wished you dead and I smacked him around and kicked him out. Using that broom you got me last year, might I add.

I hope you are well.

Lots of love,

Mamori A.

Mamori couldn't help but to tremble a bit as she wrote the last few lines. She missed him. A lot. She kissed the bottom of the paper, unknowingly leaving a faint trace of lipstick on there. Maybe this next time, Mamori thought as she put the letter in the mail, she'd finally get the answer she'd been waiting for.

Fucking Woman-

Pvt. Kobayakawa is fine and in good health.

I am fine.

Happy?

-Y. Hiruma

Youichi-

Thank you for telling me how the two of you are doing, I'm so relieved!

I'm curious, who all is under your command anyways?

Lots of love,

-Mamori A.

Fucking Woman-

You want to know about my fucking command? I suppose you'd get fucking curious about it eventually.

Under myself there are two seconds in command, Corporal G. Takekura and Corporal R. Kurita. The two of them are my fucking advisors and personal bodyguards half of the fucking time. Under them I have a Specialist, A. Munakata, who is our medic and is the only person besides Master Sergeant D. Sakaki who can fucking over-rule me on anything (medical matters only) and an ass-load of Privates. Of these Privates there are two Private First Class, S. Kobayakawa and K. Juumonji.

The rest of the fucking team are basic Private-2s, T. Raimon, M. Yukimitsu, D. Kumosubi, T. Ishimaru, Y. Satake, K. Yamaoka, F. Omosadake, N. Taki, K. Kuroki, and S. Togano who are all so fucking dumb they can't get their asses promoted.

Enough about the idio-

Youich's got a crush!

FUCK YOU ALL!!

Youichi-

Is everything alright? Your last letter was torn off at the end and had all sorts of strange scribble on it. The only one I could read was 'fuck you all'. I think that one was in your handwriting, but it's really hard to tell.

I'm so glad you were able to give me actual names for your comrades, but I am curious as to what you call them (since I believe you have alluded to them with code names in other letters). I understand if you can't tell me.

Anyways, I've sent along the usual coffee and gum along with some large package your father insisted I'd send. He told me to say that 'you'll find good use from it'. I don't know what it is, but it is rather heavy and large and will be arriving much later than this letter will. Your father told me that it should help keep you safe, so that is why I didn't object.

I hope you are well and safe.

Lots of love,

Mamori A.

Fucking Woman-

I suppose my fucking nicknames did turn into fucking code at some point during the fucking war. Can't tell the fucking days apart anymore.

Here's a fucking translation:

Fucking alcoholic D. Sakaki

Fucking old man G. Takekura

Fucking fatty R. Kurita

Fucking shiny A. Munakata

Fucking shrimp S. Kobayakawa

Fucking scar-face K. Juumonji

Fucking books S. Togano

Fucking fish-lips K. Kuroki

Fucking goatee N. Taki

Fucking monkey T. Raimon

Fucking fatty jr. D. Komusubi

Fucking badly M. Yukimitsu

Fucking track-star T. Ishimaru

Fucking porno Y. Satake

Fucking perv K. Yamaoka

Fucking lazy-ass F. Omsadake

And fucking books, fucking fish-lips, and fucking scar-face together are the fucking bros.

Speaking of the fucking bros, they decided to raid my tent for fucking coffee while I was writing you fucking last time. Fucking books made a grab for my fucking letter and it all went to hell from there. I kicked all three of their asses good.

The scribbling was them trying to write shit on my fucking letter and me trying to erase their fucking idiotic nonsense that would melt your fucking brain if you did read it. That and it wasn't their fucking letter anyways.

Send three more fucking cups of coffee and a letter that says to leave me the hell alone. I'm fucking sick of having to fucking punish them day after fucking day. I think they're starting to fucking like it.

Fucking masochistics.

I know it's because they are either fucking bored or fucking scared, but there ain't shit I can do about that. So they have to fucking suck it up or they'll die out here.

Speaking of fucking morons dying….

Fucking alcoholic got himself shot pretty damn good yesterday. He's not dead, but he sure as heck is out of commission for an extended period of time. Fucking shiny tells me there's a small chance fucking alcoholic's going to make it. Though everyone else in this fucking company is uninjured at the moment and well enough (though probably we're all malnourished, fucking rations), we're low on medical supplies. Fuck, we're low on fucking everything.

I've called in for more supplies, or at least a drop-in that we have a shot at actually retrieving. The only reason I'm still getting fucking mail is because my superiors have taken to throwing my orders in with it. It pisses me off to open up a letter from you and find orders as opposed to whatever nonsense you've decided to prattle at me about.

Fucking orders.

Right now the company's very fucking bored because our commander's out of commission, it means we can't fucking move until I get the authority to do so because he's not fucking dead yet. Not that I would move the lot of us if we did have clearance, we don't have much fucking supplies and moving's going to make our chances of losing those a whole lot fucking higher.

Despite what happened to fucking alcoholic, fucking shrimp and myself are fine and in good physical health (with all this fucking boredom, mental health is becoming a fucking issue).

Don't wait to send me another fucking letter, maybe they'll actually have the sense to send some emergency supplies along with the next mail shipment….

-Y. Hiruma

Youichi-

I wrote this up the moment I finished reading your letter. Father was a bit grumpy that I needed the coffee so urgently and he complained a great deal, but he didn't stop me from taking it.

That was the longest letter you've ever written me, you must really be bored out there! I've drawn up a few board games on some extra sheets of paper and included them in this letter. Hopefully that will help with the boredom.

I've also included some gauze and peroxide, it's not much, I know, but it's all I can give at this point. I included the usual coffee and gum, with three extra cups for the brothers. I've also included a letter to them that will hopefully keep them from trying to interfere with your letter writing evenings again. I was extra scary.

The radio's been asking everyone to donate everything possible to the war effort because this country is running out of funds. We've given everything we have, though Father is extremely annoyed because he hasn't had his morning coffee for a while now. I told him I was sending it out to some soldiers directly and he didn't complain.

Suzuna told Mother that I had been sending you the coffee. She was really furious with me until I showed her the letter you sent asking for coffee for the other members of your command. She calmed down after that. But not after telling me that I shouldn't be sending you any coffee, this I ignored of course.

I don't know why Mother hates you so much, you're really a wonderful person….

Lots of love,

Mamori A.

Fucking Brothers-

Good day sirs, I am Mamori Anezaki and I have been kindly sending my boyfriend coffee to ease the pains of being out on the battle field. If I catch wind of any of the lot of you harassing him about this matter or the coffee I send him or even the fact that he faithfully writes me, I will personally take my father's gun and march right over to your encampment – enemy be damned – and shoot off your precious gentiles in front of all your comrades.

If you are good enough at begging, I might give you the remains.

I'm sure I will laugh all night about it with Youichi (loud enough that the three of you could hear from your medical tent) and then we will proceed to shamelessly make love so loudly that you will either be having painful nightmares about it for the rest of your days or you will be envious as you will no longer have the means to properly pleasure a woman.

I have made the consequences of your actions very clear and I hope you will keep them in mind whenever you want coffee again.

-M. Anezaki

Fucking Woman-

I had fucking scar-face read your letter to the fucking bros out loud in front of everyone the night it arrived. The sorry bastard got extremely pale and nearly fainted more than once. All of them think you are some kind of fucking psychotic evil overlord. Not that I am complaining, scaring the wits out of your enemy can be the largest determining factor in a battle.

I am especially pleased with your fucking details. Especially about the fucking. I'm still laughing my ass off whenever I recall the fucking looks on their faces. It's a fucking pity fucking shiny broke the fucking old man's camera and fucking baldy hasn't fixed it yet.

We have only gotten a fucking partial resupply (mostly food with two bottles of fucking antibiotics), so more gauze is welcome. And more peroxide if you can manage it, but we need the gauze a fucking lot more. It a fucking was a relief to be able to eat most of a ration pack for once, I've been eating less than half for too many fucking days. God dammit.

Your fucking atrocious drawing skills actually managed to do something fucking good, they managed to boost moral for the first fucking time in weeks. We were all laughing our fucking asses off at your idea of a fucking 'king' from your fucking chess game.

Though the board games, as crappy as they fucking are, did get rid of most of the fucking boredom. We're on the move again, so we haven't been able to play with them as fucking much as the fuckers would like, but they are actually looking forward to finishing the fucking march, so I'm not fucking complaining (they'll go an extra fucking two miles if they know they get to play fucking board games).

Fucking shrimp's legs are aching a lot as of fucking late. Fucking shiny tells me it's because fucking shrimp is having a growth spurt. I'm not disagreeing, fucking shrimp's uniform isn't fitting him the way it's supposed to any fucking more. Other than that fucking shrimp is fine.

I'm fine, so don't fucking worry about me.

-Y. Hiruma

Youichi-

I'm so relieved to hear you are both well. From the sound of things on the radio, it sounds like we are losing, is that true?

Since its getting colder, I thought I'd send you a scarf this time along with another two cups of coffee.

Please stay safe and come home in one piece.

Lots of love,

Mamori

P.S.- How are the mittens?

Fucking Woman-

The enemy listens to the radio, don't believe what it says.

Pvt. Kobayakawa's about to get a fucking promotion, don't tell his fucking girlfriend, she has no business knowing that before he does.

Your mittens are fucking fine, quit worrying about it.

I had to punish fucking fish-lips for trying to steal my fucking coffee –again- the other day, I just had him re-read that fucking letter you sent the fucking bros again, it worked like a charm. Send me another fucking cup so that I can shut him up next time someone comes around demanding a fucking cup for whatever fucking reason they think is good.

I am fucking fine, as is the fucking Pvt..

- Y. Hiruma

Youichi-

If I don't believe the radio, what am I supposed to believe?

I sent what you asked for.

Lots of love,

Mamori A.

Miss Anezaki-

Believe in me.

-Youichi Hiruma

P.S.- I'm fine.

Youichi-

The postman told me they couldn't mail things in the envelopes beyond letters now. I'm sorry I can't send you your coffee or gum.

I know I shouldn't believe the radio, but they tell me the situation is hopeless against this new 'Teikoku Operation' the enemy planed. Is it true?

Lots of love,

Mamori

P.S.- Call me 'Mamori' please.

Fucking Mamori-

In all honesty it seems pretty damn hopeless. Moral's at an all time fucking low and everyone might as well be dead considering how fucking tired we all are.

But it only seems this way.

Private Raimon found us a bit of hope earlier today. I can't say what it is, but I think it is possible to turn this thing around. Normally this wouldn't matter because they don't give me nearly enough authority. Fuckers. I know you'd hate me for finding this a stroke of good fortunes, but my superior officer, Doburoku, finally died yesterday and I've been promoted into his place.

If my plan works, you'll get to see me next month, rather than one of these fucking letters.

-Youichi Hiruma

P.S.- Have my coffee ready.