Chapter 28
"Sima-san? Hello?"
Eng Ho halted at the entrance of the little house, heart pounding. He took in the vegetation around him, now only threatening shadows in the hot evening, and nervously patted his pockets for a lighter.
"Sima-san?" he called again. "It's me."
No answer.
He pushed the door open and stepped into the darkened house, brandishing the small flame in front of him like a weapon. Nobody home. But there were buzzing and cracking sounds coming from everywhere, and the floor… Eng Ho held his breath. Gods, what was that on the floor? He pressed his back to the wall and edged his way towards a pile of crates where he could make out a lantern. He managed to light it despite his shaking hands; then jumped backwards, almost dropping his new source of illumination when a repulsive scene was finally brought to life: flies and ants crawled, disputing brownish stains on the floor—which appeared to be undulating in some spots, such was the quantity of insects that had found their way into the house.
Eng Ho widened his eyes, expecting to see a corpse at any moment. And whirled around, a cry escaping his lips, when he caught a flash of light coming from what he knew was his colleague's 'bedroom.'
"Sima-san?" he whispered, his voice breaking. The lantern in his hands spluttered, then continued burning cheap oil with an unsatisfactory glow. "Are you—are you all right?"
Only the buzzing of the flies filled the silence; the corner at his left was once more shrouded in shadows.
Eng Ho swallowed hard and forced himself to go to the unfolded bedding: if his friend was indeed lying there, so badly injured that he was unable to answer, any wasted second could mean the difference between life and death.
"Sima-san? It's me. It's Eng Ho." He crouched at a safe distance, extended a hand to poke at the coarse blanket, and let out a nervous laugh when he discovered shards of a broken mirror scattered around—undoubtedly, it had been one of them that had reflected his own light, giving him the illusion of another person being present.
"Damn, but that was a good one, hmm? For a second I really thought—fuck!" He recoiled and fell backwards onto his rear when something dark and cold brushed against his fingers. "Fuck," he repeated as he set the lantern on the floor. He craned his head to have a better look at whatever had touched him, wiping his hand on his jacket, then laughed again at his own jumpiness.
A stone.
A little round stone.
Still chuckling nervously, Eng Ho seized it and gained his feet.
"Eng Ho." The unexpected voice made him turn to the door with an unmanly squeak. "What are you doing here?"
"Sima-san! Man, you just scared the shit out of me!"
"Answer my question."
Eng Ho blinked, surprised at the cold tone. Sima's eyes were always unsettling, but now, instead of merely reflecting light they seemed to be lit from inside. "Ah, uh, yes, sorry for intruding. I knocked, but—"
"Did you come here to spy on me?"
"Uh? Oh, no, nothing like that!" Eng Ho scratched his pimpled face, all sweaty awkwardness. "There's a riot in the youkai area, Sima-san. My station is in chaos right now; we're trying to locate Captain Wu Tai. I couldn't find the men I should talk to, but then I remembered you live here… I mean, at least I won't return without spreading the warning around…" he trailed off. "What—what happened? Your face—"
"It doesn't matter. Not anymore."
"That girlfriend of yours must be pretty wild, Sima-san," Eng Ho offered in a lame attempt at cracking a joke, relieved to have those eyes off him. "Either that, or she has a couple of really pissed off older brothers. But I suppose she's worth every bruise, ne?"
The other shrugged and went to the crates. He produced a battered knapsack and began shoving clothes in it. "There was a boy about our age here," he said in a clipped tone. "Dark hair, brown eyes, wears a golden headband. Did you see him?"
"No. The house was empty when I arrived. Is he the one who got wounded?"
Sima spared him a look, then nodded. "Yeah, we had an accident earlier on. I suppose he got tired of waiting for me and left."
"Right. Are you—are you also leaving, Sima-san?" And Eng Ho pointed to the two bags already packed.
Sima dropped the shirt he was holding, a strange expression on his face. "Yeah, I'm going away, Eng Ho-san. Going for good." He reached out and ripped off the beaded curtain from the window. The colorful beads bounced cheerfully on whatever surface they hit, most surging over the insects on the floor. The flies swarmed around and resettled.
"Are you … deserting?" Eng Ho asked, terrified and fascinated at the same time.
"Yeah. Nothing I can do anymore."
"Nothing you can do?" Eng Ho repeated, raising his voice. "Go to your station, they need you there! Sima-san, do you know what happens to deserters?"
"They won't notice or care if I disappear, Eng Ho," Sima muttered, adjusting his knapsack to his back. "They'll have—no, they have already—much more urgent situations to worry about than a lowly private. I saw the smoke coming from the youkai area, and people running. Things are ugly and they'll get worse."
"And you're simply going away? Sima-san, our people need us!"
"I can't help my people," Sima answered absently. He passed by Eng Ho and retrieved the bag in the sleeping area. "Strange, Goku was so possessive of his stuff… Why would he abandon his belongings like that?"
"Goku? Who is Goku? And what do you mean, you can't help?" Eng Ho said with impatience. "Sima-san, what's wrong with you? We should—" He jumped out of the way when Sima advanced to the door and shut it with a muffled curse.
"I can't believe it!" Sima fumed, shaking his head. "The motherfucker took my uniform!"
"What?" Eng Ho mouthed, his heart lurching painfully. Words meant nothing at the moment—not at the sight of that closed door and the memory of countless forebodings. He needed to get out of this place. "Look, I—Sima-san, I should—I must go," he said, pretending nonchalance. "Do whatever you want, but I…" his voice broke off. Sima was now facing him. With his gun drawn.
"Daiki."
"What?" Eng Ho whispered blankly.
"My name is Daiki." And Sima smirked. "It seems old Major Wang isn't as crazy as you thought, hmm?"
"Major…?" Then realization finally dawned. "Gods, you are a youkai! A demon!"
"Yeah, I'm a youkai. Yeah, I'm a demon. Now that we've asserted my condition, put your gun on the floor and kick it to me."
"I'm not armed," Eng Ho managed to answer, his teeth chattering so much that he bit his tongue.
"Do you think I'm stupid?" the youkai snapped. "Do as I say, I don't have time for this shit."
Eng Ho stepped back, in sheer terror. "I'm telling—I'm telling the truth! I don't have—Zhou Jun, my sergeant… He wasn't around and Corporal Mou didn't issue me a weapon. I—Sima-san, all this time… And you're a demon!"
"Your weapon, damn it!"
"Don't… Please…" Eng Ho wheezed, tears already streaming. "Just go… Please? I won't tell anyone about you, I swear, I won't tell, just don't kill me—"
"Shut up!" the youkai advanced and pushed Eng Ho face first against the moldy wall, quickly frisking his jacket.
"Don't kill me! Please! I—I won't tell anyone…"
"I said shut up!"
Eng Ho felt the muzzle of the weapon against his nape and whimpered. "Please, Sima-san, believe me," he slurred between sobs. "I swear on my late mother's spirit, I won't tell them. I can't die, Sima-san, my grandparents… What will happen to them?"
"Shut up!" the youkai hollered. "How dare you? How fucking dare you? You say 'youkai' and that word changes me into a bloodthirsty killer? You say 'youkai' and then assume that I will destroy your family?"
"I don't—"
"My brother was tortured for days before he was killed," the youkai hissed. "He was only seventeen, Eng Ho! Only seventeen! My mother never recovered from his death. I can't say she followed him to his grave because he wasn't even given one, but she died four months later, calling his name. But then, what would we know about suffering, right? We're only soulless beasts."
Eng Ho let out a wet sob. "Not fair … to blame me…"
"Oh, it isn't fair, is it?" the youkai snarled. "But that's what you humans do. You blame a whole kind for something a few do. 'Youkai,' to you, equals 'killing demon', and nothing more. I always treated you with respect… Now you're acting as if I'm going to eat you alive."
Eng Ho did not answer this time. He could only cry like a child.
"I should kill you, Eng Ho. Not because of revenge or hatred or 'youkai inherent cruelty,' but because it's the logical thing to do. You'll report an infiltrated spy—"
"…won't…"
"—and the humans in the Anthill will hunt me down to the end of the world. You'll … you'll destroy my life…"
"…won't … please! What did I ever do to you?"
"What about my 'people?' What about the youkai you will kill?"
"I never killed—"
"No. But you will. With time you will."
"No…"
"You told me… You told me you wanted to go back to your grandfather's farm. That you had a girl there, that you wanted to marry her."
"I did. I do." Eng Ho whimpered a woman's name.
"I have a woman I love, too," the youkai breathed. "If I let you go, I won't have a chance to live my life in peace with her. I—I'm tired of living in fear, Eng Ho. I'm so fucking tired of living in fear…"
"I won't tell them, Sima-san," Eng Ho promised once more, resting his forehead on the wall, past any other reaction. Was the youkai also crying? It seemed so. "I won't tell, I won't tell…"
"Why can't we both be happy, Eng Ho-san? You with your girl, I with mine?" The youkai stepped back then and Eng Ho scrunched his eyes shut, waiting for the bullet. "Good-bye, Eng Ho-sama. You were… You were the only friend I ever had."
Eng Ho moaned, feeling urine trickling down his pants.
There was a rustling noise nearby. Then the door was opened and slammed against the wall.
A minute went by.
Two.
"Sima-san?"
Three.
Eng Ho turned. He was alone in the little house.
The demon…
The demon was gone. And, apparently, unbelievably, it had spared his life.
Eng Ho's shaky legs failed him and he slipped to the floor, balling his fist around the little dark stone he still held.
