Archive 1: The start of the war

Chapter 1



He was hot and covered in dust. He had been walking for a few hours, determined to reach the border before nightfall. He wanted to join the army, to help them fight.

And now when the border was in sight, he suddenly felt a tinge of fear. What if they wouldn't accept him? What if it wasn't what he imagined it to be?

Cursing under his breath, he dismissed his fears. It would be fine. I'll fight for my country, and I'll go back in glory.

He gripped his backpack tighter and forced himself to walk faster. I'll be there soon. I'll be there soon. I'll be there soon.

Suddenly a loud blare of horn blasted through his monotony.

He jumped to the side of the road and watched as the army truck sped through the road, shrinking in size rapidly.

For the first time since he left the village, he felt alive. Alive and hopeful.

With a slight grin, he hoisted his backpack and walked towards where the truck had vanished.







"Do you understand your mission?"

He nodded. "Yes, Sir."

"You will be of utmost importance to us. We will expect you to contact us at least once every two weeks and whenever there is anything of importance."

"Yes, Sir."

"And in the case that your identity is exposed, you know what you are to do?"

His grip tightened on the cord around his neck containing the deadly poison. "Yes, Sir."

The general nodded, satisfied. "Good. Off you go now."

He bowed and left the office, feeling a weight beyond his years. It was an honor to be chosen for this, but with the honor came inevitable death.





He sat in the corner, knees drawn tight against his chest. All around him boys, no, men his age were talking to each other, moving around.

He swallowed nervously, while one hand playing with the strap of his backpack. He didn't know what to do. The commander of the camp had just instructed the other boy to bring him to the barracks.

Was this how armies were? Surely there had to be some kind of training, some kind of activities. This wasn't how he envisioned it.

He had thought that it would at least be orderly, strict and what an army ought to be like. That was his dream.

The reality was chaotic. The barracks were just rooms full of people, doing nothing but chatting and gossiping. The floor was mud, the beds were lice infested, and insects were crawling around him.

Cursing, he jumped to his feet. It had been better back in his village. At least it was clean.

This is where real men live. Real men would not die from dust and insects and mice. he thought as one ran across his shoe.

He sighed and scanned the room and its' occupants rapidly. This will be my home for the future.

Then he caught sight of someone sitting by himself in the other corner of the room. His interest piqued, he pushed his way towards the other boy.

"Hey."

The boy looked up. "Hello."

"I'm Hanamichi Sakuragi. Did you just get here?"

"I'm Hana too. I'm Toru Hanagata. I got here about a week ago."

"Really?" He scrutinized the floor to make sure there were no insects journeying across it and sat down. "Have you done anything?"

Hanagata shook his head. "Nothing has happened. You should dye your hair black."

Sakuragi reached up to touch his hair. "Why?"

"It's too noticeable. The enemy's going to spot you no matter how you hide."

"Oh."

"But it's nice, if that's any consolation. I've never seen anyone with flaming red hair like you."

He grinned. "Thanks.

"Where are you from?"

"A village near here."

Hanagata nodded. "I'm from the capital. I was halfway through the school semester when they announced that they needed young men to fight for our country."

"And so you enlisted."

The boy shrugged. "I saw no point in studying when the whole country is at war. Might as well come and make a real man out of myself."

Make a real man out of myself. Sakuragi smiled at those words. "I want to make a real man out of myself too."

"That day will come soon. It will."

He didn't reply to Hanagata's statement. It sounded like Hanagata needed to convince himself, and so Sakuragi kept quiet. It will come. We will be real men.

And so the days passed. Sakuragi dyed his hair black, spent his days chatting to Hanagata, waiting futilely for the day to come when they could be real men.

Yet a nagging worry kept gnawing at him. They were all not trained in combat, or in fighting. What were they to do when they had to fight?

When he voiced his worry out, Hanagata laughed at him and told him that real men could handle it, so he kept quiet.





"Wake up! Move it!"

Sakuragi woke up with a shock. The commander of the camp stood at the door, shouting for them to wake up.

He rubbed his eyes blearily. Wake up for what?

"This is it!" A familiar voice whispered in his ear.

His eyes lit up. This was it finally. He bounded off the bed and followed Hanagata out of the barrack.

It was so dark he could barely make out where they were going. Someone shoved a rifle in his hands and he grabbed hold of it, relishing the cold metal under his warm hands.

And they marched off, towards a destination only the commander knew.