All of the World
On the Road
They hauled Lieutenant Kinomoto onto the truck with the other soldiers. Syaoran, she knew, was in a separate car, although she did not know which one. The men in the same truck looked at her with long-suffering expressions. She did not feel comfortable speaking, and they did not seem inclined to listen to anything she would have to say, instead focusing most of the conversation on each other.
They were a wily bunch, these men. The line of dialogue was as boring as things get. Instead of taking any chance of passing her any information about individual histories or families, they talked about the weather, the best ways to harvest crops, even what kind of water to wash laundry with. The topics of conversation seemed to be as boring to most of the men as they were to her, but on the other hand, it was perhaps one of the ways these Communists torture prisoners.
The roads of China were badly maintained, and there were many mountainous regions which made the trip rocky and unpleasant. It started raining, which made the roads slippery and treacherous. Kinomoto found herself hoping that Syaoran was alright. It would be stupid if he ended up dying because some lame driver slipped off a cliff. Kami, that would be even lamer than if he died from the blasted rabbit fever that, to this day, still managed to elude the other soldiers. Did the scientists in the lab do nothing right? It certainly seemed so.
Syaoran, for his part, was not thinking as much about the Japanese lieutenant as she was of him. He spent most of the day's journey sleeping and was not even aware when it started raining. At some point he woke, listening to the heavy drops on the glass and hood of the car, and heard voices outside. They had stopped moving, for some reason, though the driver showed no intention of leaving the car. Sitting up in the back seat, Syaoran looked out. " What's going on?"
" Group of Nationalists." Said the squad leader in the passenger's seat. " You okay there, Colonel?"
" Nationalists?" Syaoran groaned. " Are they causing trouble?" They should not be. Ever since the two parties signed the agreement of ceasefire in favor of fending off the Japanese, the members of both party had been like brothers.
" I am Lieutenant Li Meiling." He heard a woman say. " We had just fought off a Japanese regiment. I have many who are injured and dying."
" I'm sorry Ma'am," He heard someone from the transport group, Dong, his name was, say. " We are a military escort group. We do not have enough supplies to support your band."
" What the hell," Syaoran sat up, opening the door.
" Sir!" The squad leader exclaimed. " Syaoran!"
" Yeah yeah," Syaoran stumbled out of the car. " What the hell is going on here, Dong?" He asked. " How come I wasn't woken for this?"
Lieutenant Li, her long black hair caked with mud and bloodstains on her uniform, gave him an inscrutable look.
" Colonel," Dong saluted, " This is Lieutenant Li Meiling of the Nationalist platoon." He went on to introduce a few others, but Li Meiling was the highest ranking officer. Syaoran listened silently to the further explanation of the situation.
" We need supplies, we need transport," The lieutenant continued, " We need help."
" You weren't able to contact your headquarters?" Syaoran inquired.
" Our equipment was damaged." She replied. " And a lot of our members…they cannot be moved."
Syaoran inhaled wearily, before coughing watery coughs. " We don't have a doctor on board—I'm actually heading to headquarters myself, for treatment. Our supplies are only enough to last us the journey to headquarters; we cannot spare anything. However, if you have headquarters nearby, we can deliver a message stating your situation and location."
Perhaps it was the stress of the situation, but the lieutenant snapped, " The nearest station is three day's journey and by that time half of my men would have died already, let alone the three day's journey back once they receive your bloody message!"
" Heaven preserve me," Syaoran actually glanced up at the cloudy sky as he uttered this, which he then regretted because then the raindrops fell directly into his eyes and it hurt. " I am surrounded by outspoken female lieutenants."
" Pardon?" Li snapped.
Dong suppressed a chuckle. " Forgive us, ma'am. We have a Japanese Lieutenant Kinomoto also with us as a hostage. This is another reason why we must make haste."
" I understand your urgency," Syaoran broke in, silencing Dong, " The Japanese lieutenant is not the issue. The issue is that we seriously have nothing to help you with. We have no supplies, no medical kits, we have a Japanese hostage sitting in that truck over there, we have enough fuel to last us a one way trip. We cannot even spare any of our vehicles to drive ahead. You're going to have to take what you can get, Lieutenant. Had you been less lucky, we would not have even passed by here to deliver any message at all."
The lieutenant pursed her lips, looking very displeased, but she did not complain further.
" Where is the nearest station located?" Syaoran asked. " Will we be able to refuel there?"
" Yes." Said the young woman. " If it will be alright, I can ride with you to the station."
" If you can put up with squeezing next to us in the car." Syaoran shrugged.
The lieutenant pursed her lips, but she nodded.
" I'm heading back." Syaoran suddenly felt very dizzy. " You guys know what to do?"
" Yes sir." Dong smiled. " Don't worry about it, Syaoran."
More exhausted than he thought possible, Syaoran retired to the car where he curled up in the back seat and went to sleep again.
" Is he alright?" The lieutenant asked the soldiers.
" He's ill." Said Dong.
The lieutenant blinked at this, but decided to ignore this for now and began pointing out over the mountains.
In the truck, several soldiers had jumped off to investigate what was going on. They came back inside, soaked through and shivering.
" What's up?" Asked the men who remained inside.
" Taking a detour. Syaoran's orders." Said one. " We met up with a bunch of nationalists, this woman, Lieutenant Li, said they just had a knockout with the Japanese and they need help."
" Oh. Do we have enough fuel?"
" Dunno."
" Well, Syaoran knows what he's doing."
Kinomoto frowned a little. " He's sick." She exclaimed, the first time she spoke for hours. " He can't keep delaying treatment."
Startled, the men stared at her.
" What do you care, anyway?" Remarked one. " Not like you can gain anything by heading to headquarters any faster than we are. Once you're there, bitch, you ain't coming back out."
Kinomoto resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She should feel frightened, she knew, surrounded as she was by enemies, but Syaoran had given specific orders that she was not to be touched. We're not the filthy Japanese. Don't act like them. Which ended up being what was needed, really, to keep these men's hands off her. One more thing to thank Syaoran for.
" We're gonna use you to get your brother and father, you hear that, huh?" One soldier jabbed harshly at her arm. " Any tricks you're plotting, you can forget'em."
" Hey," Dong knocked his knuckles against the side of the truck, having heard the dialogue. " No taunting the prisoners while on escort."
" Easy for you to say." Said a soldier. " You're not stuck with her."
" I want tempers to be cool. You know what the colonel said." Said Dong. " No point in getting all fired up when the colonel wants her alive and healthy, yes? Ripping her apart ain't your job. Stick to it, men." He turned around and walked out of sight, but they heard him shout, " Let's move it people! Folks down there need all the speed we can give!" They heard the cars and trucks start their engines. A distant thunder rumbled.
" All fired up?" Cried one of the soldiers in indignation, " Fired up how? She's only one of those fiends that order men around to go raping girls. How'd you like to have a taste of your own medicine, eh?" He kicked at Kinomoto's knee.
" Hey," Said another soldier, " Calm down, for Syaoran's sake. You know he hates her the most out of all of us. He's actually had to kiss up to this bitch."
Against her will, Kinomoto felt her heart freeze at the words. She had not really considered Syaoran's feelings for her; she was so engrossed with how he was able to function despite being so ill. Her admiration of him blinded her to his possible reaction. No doubt, he would just laugh and brush her off, at best. He hates her the most out of all of us. Is it true? Perhaps it was. She knew he hated the Japanese now, and the fact that he was able to fool her so completely into thinking he was loyal to Japan—that man has the will of steel. No doubt, he wanted to hurt her as much as these men, and yet he was capable of giving the orders to leave her unharmed.
She leaned her head against the canvas draped inside the interior of the truck and closed her eyes as more insults flew by her. She really did not have the heart to fight back because all of their accusations were from the heart. To be sure, she never offended any of them personally, but she would have.
Oh she definitely would have.
Outside, Dong pushed at Syaoran's shoulder.
" Hey, Colonel. Syaoran," He straightened as Syaoran woke with a start. " Hey, you're taking up all of the back seat."
" Oh." Syaoran sat up dizzily. " Wha?"
" Lieutenant Li is coming with us." Said Dong. " She does kind of need somewhere to sit, ye know."
" Ach. Okay."
" What the hell happened to you?" Asked the lieutenant as she sat in the back seat with him. " You look like someone pumped you full of drugs."
" I feel like someone pumped me full of drugs." Syaoran leaned against the window. It was too cold though, so he adjusted the coat he was wrapping around himself so it served as a pillow as well. " Sorry, I'm tired, so I won't be able to entertain you very much."
" You look really cold. Do you want my coat?"
Syaoran could not help feeling like a complete loser upon hearing that. Thankfully, his comrades were sympathetic (and amused) enough to pity him.
" Nah, Miss. You can keep your coat. I'm the one that's hot." Said the one in the passenger's seat, taking off his coat and moving it over to the back.
" Thanks." Syaoran adjusted the layers. He felt much better. " I'm gonna sleep now because my head hurts."
oO
They set up camp when night fell to eat. Syaoran stayed in the car where it was drier, and Dong remained in the car with him. The young man slept soundly and did not wake no matter how much conversation was going on around him.
The rain had stopped when they set up camp, but as everyone finished eating it had started raining again. They withdrew to the vehicles for shelter from the storm. Kinomoto was given the spot in the interior of the truck so she could not try to run away. It was humid and hot inside the truck, crammed with so many men. She dreamed she was in the tropics, searching, searching for something, but there were so many things in the way and it was hard to see. She came across a clearing and beheld a tall man in green robes. She ran toward him, for some reason relieved, but when she reached him he suddenly collapsed and she was holding him in her arms, terrified. There was something wrong—blood was everywhere and got all over her. She turned his face to him and saw that it was Syaoran.
She woke up sobbing in despair, and the men around her, irritated by her weeping, shoved her harshly against the walls of the truck.
" Would you shut the fuck up?" Exclaimed one of them.
" Women and their crying." Said another.
They all looked like they wanted to slit her throat, and one of them even waved a pocket knife, but in the end they did not do anything but go back to sleep, grumbling oaths and insults. " Your ma," Came a few mumbles.
Syaoran was dreaming too. He dreamed that his father was strung up on a platform and a Japanese general was gutting him with a fishhook which flashed in the glaring sun. Blood splattered everywhere, bits of flesh and chipped bone as the Japanese man grinned a feral grin and swiped the hook with violent, exaggerated movements, each a stroke of glee. His father screamed and his mother screamed and his sisters screamed while holding his mother back and the crowd of pathetic Chinese peasants sobbed and begged for the mercy that never came. In the dream Syaoran was screaming as well, but the nightmare had occurred often enough that he learned to keep the screams confined in the dream world. The vision of horror transformed and his sister was holding him close, murmuring that everything was going to be alright, that it was all going to be alright, while the blood seeped through the floor, his father's blood, which flowed and flowed and flowed until it turned into a blood red river where his mother's corpse and his sisters' corpses floated in the current, down and out of sight and away from him.
He woke, but strangely, the horror dissipated as soon as he opened his eyes. It was a phantom terror, one of the child he had been, long ago, when he was still young and naive and the truth of war had been a brutal and abrupt blow to his innocence. He had long since shed blood himself, flung grenades into the throng of Japanese soldiers and watched their heads explode from the distance. He had dug through their cold corpses looking for weapons and other goods. Seeing the atrocities of the Japanese was so frequent that he no longer viewed it with horror. Instead, he felt pure, cold hatred for everything they were and represented. The Chinese know the secrets of patience. They know how to swallow their anger and pain in favor of a time when revenge will be its sweetest.
" Nightmare again?"
Dong was groggy but awake.
" Did I wake you?" Syaoran asked, not quite apologetic—he was still brimming with rage from the dream.
" Not really." Said Dong. " Sensed your unease, I guess, and I looked in the rearview mirror and saw your eyes were open."
Syaoran sighed. " Fuck it. I'll be dreaming these dreams as long as I live."
" We'll win."
" Fuck yeah. But doesn't change the fact that what happened, happened."
" It's the wild." Said Dong. " It's all dark and untamed. Once we get back to headquarters things will be better."
" I doubt it." Said Syaoran. " I've been having these nightmares, on and off, for years."
" When we win," Dong promised, " Those nightmares will ease. You will do your family proud."
" Who the fuck cares? They're dead."
" Their spirits live on in you."
" That bullshit again."
" It's true." Said Dong. " Descendants are the purpose of our society, after all. 'Zi zi sun sun', the saying goes. You are the 'Zi', the son. You kick Jap ass and their death wouldn't be in vain."
Syaoran was quiet for a moment. " I know that." He said. " I know all this."
" I know you do."
Silence descended again.
" Good night." Syaoran said.
Dong reached his left hand back. Syaoran took it, and Dong squeezed his fingers.
" We're here for you." Said Dong.
Syaoran smiled, and Dong released his hand. They both shut their eyes.