WAGES OF OUR FOLLIES
Chapter 10: "A Thousand, Thousand Stilled Voices"
A Sailor Moon/Sakura Taisen fanfic
By Bill K.
In the basement of the Imperial Music Hall, Master Sergeant George Polanski reviewed the report of an incident from the previous night. In that incident, three Marines had gotten drunk, entered a shop that sold clothing, demolished the shop and beaten the owner. When questioned, one of the Marines said they did it because the shopkeeper looked like a Japanese soldier who had stormed their bunker in a banzai charge on Okinawa. Reports of incidents between soldiers and Japanese natives were increasing as the occupation continued. The American soldiers were bored and restless to go home, and they resented the Japanese. The Japanese were suspicious, humiliated and restless for the Americans to go home, for they resented the Americans.
"And just think," Polanski muttered, "I could have been a bus driver back in Akron and missed all of this."
A knock on his door caught Polanski's attention. Corporal Harrelson peered in.
"Local girl to see you, Sergeant," Harrelson told him. "The jar head that's with her says she's got important new information in an on-going case."
"Send her through, Harrelson," Polanski replied, smoothing back his hair. Momentarily he wondered what new little blessing was headed his way to complicate his day. As the two entered, Polanski looked them over. The girl - - she might have been twenty-five or twelve, he couldn't tell - - seemed vaguely familiar, but most Japanese looked alike to him. The Marine private who was with her was more familiar.
"Ohlendorf, isn't it?" Polanski scowled. "You've got to be William, because Chris is under guard.
"Begging your pardon, Sergeant," Will Ohlendorf said, saluting the non-com. "Miss Saboru has new information on the case against my brother, Sergeant."
"Really," Polanski scowled. Then he sighed in resignation. "Harrelson! Get a translator in here!" Turning to Yuki, who he could see was incredibly scared and uncomfortable, Polanski softened and gestured to a chair. Yuki slipped into it timidly. "You can wait outside, Ohlendorf."
"I'd rather stay here, Sergeant," Will answered urgently.
"And I told you to wait outside, PRIVATE!" snapped Polanski. Yuki flinched.
Will thought for a moment. "Yes, Sergeant," he saluted and exited the room as an army interpreter entered the room.
"OK, ma'am, I'll need your name and what case you've got information on," Polanski told Yuki, trying to calm himself as he spoke. The translator spoke to Yuki in Japanese.
"I am Saboru Yuki," Yuki said haltingly in English. "You are holding Ohlendorf Chris. He is not do this thing." As a precaution, Yuki repeated this for the translator, who relayed the message to Sgt. Polanski.
"Rape," mumbled Polanski as he thumbed through a case log. "Saboru . . .oh, here." Glancing at the file, he looked over at Yuki. Instantly Yuki's eyes sought the floor in embarrassment. "Miss Saboru, are you being forced to say this by anyone? Corporal Ohlendorf's brother, say?"
"No!" Yuki replied urgently. "Will-San came to me. He told of this mistake. I wish to make right. Chris no force me to-to - - lay with him. You cannot kill him for this!"
"It says in the report that you didn't see your attacker," Polanski countered.
"No," Yuki whispered, looking down again.
"Then how do you know it wasn't Chris Ohlendorf?"
Yuki looked up at him but couldn't think of an answer. She struggled not to begin crying. Finally she said, "It not him."
"Did you know we did a paternity test?" Polanski asked. Yuki tensed when the translator relayed that information. "Corporal Ohlendorf is probably the father of your baby."
"It not him," Yuki repeated.
"And your attacker just happened to have the same blood type?"
Yuki was on the verge of tears now. "It," she struggled to say, "not him."
"Because you were never raped?" Polanski asked.
Yuki didn't answer. She only hid her face in shame. Finally Polanski picked up a phone on his desk.
"This is Polanski, who is this?" he said into the phone. "Lance Corporal Molinaro, release prisoner Ohlendorf, Christopher, Corporal, 65478215. All charges have been dropped."
"Thank you," whimpered Yuki. She still wouldn't look at him.
"Ma'am, I don't know what situation you've gotten yourself into," Polanski told her, "but in the future, please don't involve the United States Military unnecessarily." The translator ushered Yuki out of the office. Once she was outside, Will sprang on her.
"What's the word, Yuki?" he gasped.
"Word?" Yuki asked him, puzzled.
"Did they let Chris go?" Will prodded her. Yuki nodded.
Immediately Will ran off to meet his brother, leaving Yuki behind to make her way out of the basement of the Imperial Music Hall all by herself. As she wandered the halls, shying from the men in uniform, she couldn't help but wonder what was to become of her now. Would Chris still be in love with her? Would her father and mother forgive her? By the time she got outside of the building, all she could do was sit on the top step and begin to cry.
"And I told you that it would get fixed!" Will Ohlendorf exclaimed, his arm around his brother Chris as they headed back to quarters. "The Marine Corps wouldn't execute an innocent man."
"They were perfectly willing to," Chris shot back. He didn't share his brother's enthusiasm. "Just as long as it cleared up their case load. And so was Yuki."
"Come on, Chris. You're not being fair," Will chided him. "Yuki only said she was raped because she was afraid of her father. Once she found out it was you going down for it, she stepped up and told the truth."
"And what if it hadn't been me under arrest for it?" Chris posed. The brothers stopped and looked each other in the eye. "What if it had been some other Joe who looked good for the crime? Would she have told the truth then?" Will didn't answer. Chris looked ahead. "And she said she loved me."
"She's having your kid," Will reminded him.
"Is it mine?" Chris shot back bitterly.
"Come on, Chris," Will scowled.
"People who love each other don't do that sort of thing to each other," Chris maintained. "That's what Ma and Pa told us, and they're right."
"Maybe you should be telling her this," Will suggested as they continued to the billet.
"Nothing doing," Chris shook his head. "As far as I'm concerned, we're quits. If she can stab me in the back once, she can do it again. I don't want anything to do with either her or that kid."
"You sure about this, Chris?"
Chris was silent for a few steps. "I'm putting in for transfer."
"You're an interpreter. They're not going to let you out of Japan."
"It doesn't have to be out of Japan. I just want out of Tokyo," Chris frowned.
"This is a joke," muttered Will. "I'm breaking my neck trying to stay in Tokyo and you can't wait to get out. Hey, maybe we should switch dog tags."
"Hah! Some interpreter you'd make," Chris snorted. "You can barely speak English."
"Ohlendorf!" came a yell across the room as the two brothers entered the billet. Automatically both men turned to Lieutenant Graves. Only Chris saluted. "My Ohlendorf," he said to Chris, who he knew was Chris because Will had been in his company too long to bother saluting him. "Get your gear ship shape and get ready to shove off at oh-eight-hundred tomorrow. We've got a patrol."
"A patrol?" gasped Will. "Lieutenant, I've got my points! I'm a week short!"
"And normally I'd send somebody else," Graves replied. "But orders are everybody who was part of the incident outside of Kobe that one time participate in this mission. That's from Major Swanson himself. That means you, too. Now get yourself ready."
Graves turned and walked away. Will's displeasure was obvious and Chris looked on sympathetically.
"Hey," Chris suggested, "if you want, I can go . . ."
"You?" Will snorted. "You wouldn't even know which end of a rifle to fire. But you can do something for me."
"Name it."
"Cover for me here," Will said as he eased out the door. "I've got to tell Yoshiko."
Reluctantly Yuki opened the door to her home and quietly eased in. Visions of anger, of denouncements, of furious dismissal from her parents swirled in her head. For surely the truth was out now. The door closed quietly behind her and Yuki sagged against it. One selfish act of passion and now she was going to pay for it for the rest of her life. And if her parents rejected her - - well, there was always one thing she could do to rectify things. She hated the thought of her baby dying with her, but better suicide than subject it to a life of abuse and rejection.
Doffing her shoes, she padded into the entry hall. Then she saw her father in the living room, sitting silently in his favorite chair.
"Papa," Yuki said softly, entering on eggshells. His head turned to her. "I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry, too," Saboru spoke. His voice was flat and dead, defeated. "I'm sorry that I'm such a poor father that my child felt she had to lie to me. Do you fear me that much?"
"I," Yuki began. She felt the tears welling again and was amazed she had any left. "I didn't want you to hate me."
Her father extended his hand. Hesitant at first, Yuki finally took it and was led around to face him. She sank to her knees before him and looked up into the sadness that colored his expression.
"I don't hate you," he told her. "I'm disappointed. I had hoped for more from you. But we all give in to weakness. I was all too ready to believe someone had raped you because in a way it meant you hadn't given in to a handsome face and a smooth line. That was my weakness. That and failing to teach you that a mistake is forgivable, but a lie sometimes isn't."
"I'm sorry, Papa," Yuki whimpered.
"I forgive you, Yuki-Chan," he said, caressing her cheek. "But please don't lie to me again."
"I won't."
"And you didn't have to lie. While what you did was," and he paused diplomatically, "short-sighted, I actually do understand why you did it. Temptation is an easy thing to yield to when you're young." He smiled briefly. "Can I tell you a secret? You were at your mother's and my wedding."
Yuki looked at him, puzzled.
"You were inside your mother at the time," he smirked. "It's sort of why we had to get married. I loved your mother and wanted to marry her - - just not that soon. But it's worked out. So what about your child's father? Was it a local boy," he asked, then paused with some ill-disguised trepidation, "or was it one of the soldiers?"
"One of the soldiers," Yuki confessed. "He's the brother of the man who came here."
"What are his plans?"
"I don't know," Yuki said, laying her head on her father's knee. "I haven't seen him. Maybe he doesn't want to have anything to do with me now."
Saboru put his hand on his daughter's head, the burden of a mixed race baby growing in the racial-purity obsessed culture of Japan in his future. "If so," he said, "your child will still have a family."
Heads turned as two American military vehicles drove down the morning Tokyo streets. The lead vehicle was a jeep with an army driver and a beautiful Shinto priest, her long black hair trapped by a ribbon and blowing behind her as the jeep traveled southwest. Her protege sat in the back. Behind the jeep was a troop truck, a company of twelve Marines and their commander in back. Recognizing her, Suichiro Mizuno waved to Sakura Ogami. Then he noticed the sword across her lap.
"That was Ogami-Sensei, wasn't it?" a voice asked him. Mizuno glanced at the voice and saw it came from the young priest from the shrine a mile off, Futabara Hino.
"Yes," Mizuno answered. "I wonder if they're going to fight the demon."
"Demon?" Hino asked. "What demon?"
"The demon who has been killing the Americans," Mizuno whispered. A wave of fear swept over him. "I-I'd better get my salt!" And he turned and limped off to his shop.
Sitting in the back of the jeep, enduring the bumps and lurches, Gon Narita watched his Master. It allowed him to avoid thinking about what was to come. He had never fought a demon before. He'd never even seen one. His wish was that he could be of some small help in neutralizing this one, but there was a persistent voice inside of him that kept whispering that he was going to his death and he just couldn't quite silence it. If Ogami-Sensei wasn't on this trip, he might just turn around and go back to the shrine. But Ogami-Sensei was legendary. Even though the recent regime had done all they could to bury her past and discredit her, everyone old enough to remember the twenties and early thirties knew of her exploits. Gon knew that the wisest thing he could do was follow Ogami-Sensei's lead and guard her back.
["Stop the jeep,"] he heard her say in English.
Gon came to attention, looking around as the jeep came to a stop in the southwest portion of the city. The driver signaled the truck behind them to stop. Gon looked back at Ogami-Sensei, but she was already stepping out of the jeep, her hands on her sword. The novitiate realized his pulse was racing.
It was in the city.
"What is your name?" Ogami called up into a tree, one of the few trees that had escaped damage from the firebombing raids. It was a tree that hung out over the wall of a residence, a tree that had seen fifty years. The jeep driver looked at her like she was mad. Gon eased up by her right side.
["Why are we stopped?"] Lieutenant Graves asked the driver. He had climbed out of the truck and come over to the jeep. Helplessly the jeep driver just pointed to the priest.
"I am the echo of a thousand, thousand stilled voices," a low, hissing voice came from out of the newborn tree leaves. Gon felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. "I am the spirit of vengeance for those who cannot take their vengeance. I am the spirit of those who died burning in agony, in the fires THEY made. I am Bachikasai and I was born from the ashes of the souls of Hiroshima."
["What is it? What's it saying?"] Lieutenant Graves demanded.
"Master, can such a thing be possible?" Gon asked. "Can the dead spirits of an entire city form a single demon spirit?"
"I've never known it to happen," Ogami replied, never taking her eye off of the tree. "But then, I've never known an entire city to be destroyed with one blow before."
["Sergeant, get those men out of that truck!"] Graves yelled at the troop truck. ["We've got something out here!]
["No, Lieutenant!"] Ogami called out while keeping her eyes riveted on the tree. ["Keep your men in the truck!"]
All Gon saw was the rustle of leaves and a blur of motion. By the time he had adjusted his sight line, Ogami had already vaulted the front hood of the jeep and was on the other side of it. Lieutenant Graves was on the pavement, pushed down by the demon fighter. Her sword was out and pointed at - - well, it couldn't be.
"A dragon?" he exclaimed softly, lest it hear.
The lizard's shoulders stood as tall as a horse. It had a barrel chest, a neck at least two feet long and a head with a long snout. Rigid spines sprang up around each nostril, from its chin and behind both eyes, which were set in the front of its face. More spines ran down its back and along a tail which was at least as long at the body. Four powerful legs crouched on the pavement, thighs bulging with muscles and ending in flat feet a foot and a half long. Each foot had four toes and each toe had a razor-sharp talon six inches long. The demon's hide was thick and scaly, the dark green catching little of the morning light. The beast's burning red eyes glared at Ogami, angry at being denied Lieutenant Graves' throat.
"Narita!" Ogami shouted. "Use your wards! Try to keep it contained!"
"You would side with them?" hissed the beast, snarling at the priest. "The ones who bring death and destruction to this land? Who incinerate your own with the fires of the very sun itself? You defend them against the holy vengeance of your own kind?"
"The circle of vengeance must stop!" Ogami yelled back. "I do not claim your desire for vengeance to be wrong! You were created from the death cries of the innocent people who were cut down that day, cut down for no greater reason than they were on that spot at that moment! I understand the need from which you sprang!"
With lightning quickness, the demon flicked its tail out. Gon jumped back, barely avoiding it. The wards remained in his hand.
"Your sword speaks otherwise!" hissed the demon.
"Because nothing can come from your vengeance but more vengeance!" Ogami argued. "Killing these men will not bring the dead back to life! It will not allow the angry spirits trapped within you to pass on to the next life! It will just inspire new hatred and new violence! On and on it will go until there will be nothing left to avenge oneself upon! I know what you feel! I know the ache in your heart! This war, these wages of our follies have claimed my beloved husband and two of my dearest friends! But I hear the spirit of my beautiful Ichiro! And he calls out to me! And he says 'Let my death be the last one! The circle must be broken!'"
["Holy shit!"] gasped PFC. Sid Koslowski. He, Corporal Gary Woodbridge and PFC. Will Ohlendorf had disembarked from the troop truck. Prior to this moment, the most incredulous things they had ever witnesses had been the mass suicides of the civilians on Saipan. The only monsters they'd ever witnessed had been Boris Karloff or Bela Lugosi in heavy makeup during a Saturday matinee. This - - this was real life.
Woodbridge didn't bother with oaths. He raised his rifle and started firing. That shook Will out of his stupor and he opened fire, which drew the same response from Koslowski.
Bachikasai flinched at the hail of gunfire. Then it snarled angrily and lunged for the three Marines.
Continued in Chapter 11