Forbidden Love
Disclaimer: I realised that I forgot this for the last 2 chapters so here it is. I don't own Slam Dunk. Slam Dunk owns me.
Chapter 3: Love or Hate?
My head felt light. Did he just admit that. that he liked me? Although I did feel flattered that someone liked me, I fretted over the fact that he was a Japanese soldier, one who had probably played a part in killing Pa and Rong-ge. I was caught in a fix, not knowing how to respond. I mean, I seriously wanted to survive this war; I knew that with his help, I could. But then again, he was Japanese, and just 'requiting' his feelings made me feel uneasy, since I didn't really feel anything for him, and that would equate cheating him.
'I. I.'
He took advantage of my indecisiveness and silenced me with his lips in a kiss, but I broke it off and pushed him away quickly. I saw his eyes flash with hurt in the dim firelight even as he gasped for breath, his mind reeling from the realisation that I had rejected him.
I turned away from him immediately, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. No one had ever touched me in this way before! How dare he take advantage of the fact that he was a soldier, and I, a civilian, to kiss me! But as I licked my lips apprehensively, I found that I had actually enjoyed the short time that our lips had locked, although my pride refused to acknowledge this fact.
'Why?' he questioned me, softly. When I did not respond to his question, he grabbed my shoulders roughly, spun me around, and shook me violently, asking, 'Why.' with a growing expression of hurt and anger in his face.
Tears welled up in my eyes as I finally admitted,' Because you're Japanese. we can never be together.'
'Never mind all the hatred our ancestors shared; all I want is you. as long as we love each other, it doesn't matter.'
'Why me?' I tried to change the subject,' There are many Japanese women who are probably waiting for your love in Japan now. why bother with a girl of your race your ancestors despised?'
His shoulders slumped back in defeat, and he let go of my shoulders. He was a caricature of utter dejection. Did I hit a raw nerve?
'No. no Japanese girl could ever want me. I. I am an illegitimate child. With such a dishonourable background, who could ever want me?'
My heart softened and I longed to comfort him, and tell him that I wanted him as much as he wanted me. But there was a racial barrier between us. Could we truly overcome this barrier?
*****
Rong-ge, having gone to school, would always narrate his lessons to me, and teach me a couple of useful things from his curriculum. I could do simple arithmetic; write some words, among a few other things. However, the thing I loved best were the history lessons Rong-ge would share with me. I learnt about our Motherland's glorious 5000 years of history, her struggles, her woes and her joys. I did learn a little about the Japanese, who were depicted as proud copycats who claimed they were of a pure bloodline from their Sun Goddess, while there was substantial evidence that they were probably an 'impure' mix of us Han Chinese and the Koreans.
Although I knew that this was possibly propaganda from our Motherland to instil a sense of National Pride in us, but still, as with many first impressions, this image of the Japanese stuck, and remained etched in my memory.
The already unfavourable impression I had of the Japanese was further worsened with their ruthless invasions of Manchuria and other parts of our Motherland, as well as their victories over the weak British in Malaya and here in Singapore. It sure didn't help that Pa and Rong-ge's disappearances were indirectly caused by them.
But all that changed when I first saw Mitsui. He looked barely eighteen when I first saw him, and his face and eyes, sad and solemn, nearly made me forget that he was a foe. During the short minutes that my eyes first locked with his, I could tell that he disliked war, and was probably unhappy that he had to draw blood from others, or die.
My liking for this young soldier intensified further after he saved me from his rogue comrades who carried me off, probably to ravish, and yet did not make use of my helpless position to satisfy his own needs. Instead, he took care of me, and even gave me some of his rations.
Honestly, although I did blush when I first saw him, I forced myself not to fall in love with him, for one of the things I feared most was that he would manipulate my emotions to blackmail me. The excuse I gave myself was that he was Japanese, one of a dishonourable family background at that, and that it would do me no good to requite his feelings.
However, as the days passed, I found that I could not suppress my feelings anymore. Since I had many lonely hours in the shack, I interrogated myself as to what made me like him. After those long hours of deep thought, I realised that it was a combination of several factors.
Firstly, he was good looking, and had a kind heart. Secondly, he was courageous enough to hide a civilian illegally in a shack (I assumed he would get into serious trouble JUST IF I was found. [touch wood]). Thirdly, he was a civil man, a gentleman who did not toy around with helpless women like objects. Fourthly, he was generous with his rations (which wasn't a lot).
I was about to come up with a fifth reason while reading a "Japanese Elementary School" textbook in the fading light when the door opened. It was Mitsui, carrying a sack of sweet potatoes.
He looked weary and worried. I gently prodded him with a finger, and asked what the matter was. He raised his bowed head and announced grimly,' I've been transferred to the Board of Torture and Punishments.'
A/n: Sorry for not uploading for so long XP I will try to upload ASAP. Meanwhile, enjoy this chapter =) Ja!
Disclaimer: I realised that I forgot this for the last 2 chapters so here it is. I don't own Slam Dunk. Slam Dunk owns me.
Chapter 3: Love or Hate?
My head felt light. Did he just admit that. that he liked me? Although I did feel flattered that someone liked me, I fretted over the fact that he was a Japanese soldier, one who had probably played a part in killing Pa and Rong-ge. I was caught in a fix, not knowing how to respond. I mean, I seriously wanted to survive this war; I knew that with his help, I could. But then again, he was Japanese, and just 'requiting' his feelings made me feel uneasy, since I didn't really feel anything for him, and that would equate cheating him.
'I. I.'
He took advantage of my indecisiveness and silenced me with his lips in a kiss, but I broke it off and pushed him away quickly. I saw his eyes flash with hurt in the dim firelight even as he gasped for breath, his mind reeling from the realisation that I had rejected him.
I turned away from him immediately, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. No one had ever touched me in this way before! How dare he take advantage of the fact that he was a soldier, and I, a civilian, to kiss me! But as I licked my lips apprehensively, I found that I had actually enjoyed the short time that our lips had locked, although my pride refused to acknowledge this fact.
'Why?' he questioned me, softly. When I did not respond to his question, he grabbed my shoulders roughly, spun me around, and shook me violently, asking, 'Why.' with a growing expression of hurt and anger in his face.
Tears welled up in my eyes as I finally admitted,' Because you're Japanese. we can never be together.'
'Never mind all the hatred our ancestors shared; all I want is you. as long as we love each other, it doesn't matter.'
'Why me?' I tried to change the subject,' There are many Japanese women who are probably waiting for your love in Japan now. why bother with a girl of your race your ancestors despised?'
His shoulders slumped back in defeat, and he let go of my shoulders. He was a caricature of utter dejection. Did I hit a raw nerve?
'No. no Japanese girl could ever want me. I. I am an illegitimate child. With such a dishonourable background, who could ever want me?'
My heart softened and I longed to comfort him, and tell him that I wanted him as much as he wanted me. But there was a racial barrier between us. Could we truly overcome this barrier?
*****
Rong-ge, having gone to school, would always narrate his lessons to me, and teach me a couple of useful things from his curriculum. I could do simple arithmetic; write some words, among a few other things. However, the thing I loved best were the history lessons Rong-ge would share with me. I learnt about our Motherland's glorious 5000 years of history, her struggles, her woes and her joys. I did learn a little about the Japanese, who were depicted as proud copycats who claimed they were of a pure bloodline from their Sun Goddess, while there was substantial evidence that they were probably an 'impure' mix of us Han Chinese and the Koreans.
Although I knew that this was possibly propaganda from our Motherland to instil a sense of National Pride in us, but still, as with many first impressions, this image of the Japanese stuck, and remained etched in my memory.
The already unfavourable impression I had of the Japanese was further worsened with their ruthless invasions of Manchuria and other parts of our Motherland, as well as their victories over the weak British in Malaya and here in Singapore. It sure didn't help that Pa and Rong-ge's disappearances were indirectly caused by them.
But all that changed when I first saw Mitsui. He looked barely eighteen when I first saw him, and his face and eyes, sad and solemn, nearly made me forget that he was a foe. During the short minutes that my eyes first locked with his, I could tell that he disliked war, and was probably unhappy that he had to draw blood from others, or die.
My liking for this young soldier intensified further after he saved me from his rogue comrades who carried me off, probably to ravish, and yet did not make use of my helpless position to satisfy his own needs. Instead, he took care of me, and even gave me some of his rations.
Honestly, although I did blush when I first saw him, I forced myself not to fall in love with him, for one of the things I feared most was that he would manipulate my emotions to blackmail me. The excuse I gave myself was that he was Japanese, one of a dishonourable family background at that, and that it would do me no good to requite his feelings.
However, as the days passed, I found that I could not suppress my feelings anymore. Since I had many lonely hours in the shack, I interrogated myself as to what made me like him. After those long hours of deep thought, I realised that it was a combination of several factors.
Firstly, he was good looking, and had a kind heart. Secondly, he was courageous enough to hide a civilian illegally in a shack (I assumed he would get into serious trouble JUST IF I was found. [touch wood]). Thirdly, he was a civil man, a gentleman who did not toy around with helpless women like objects. Fourthly, he was generous with his rations (which wasn't a lot).
I was about to come up with a fifth reason while reading a "Japanese Elementary School" textbook in the fading light when the door opened. It was Mitsui, carrying a sack of sweet potatoes.
He looked weary and worried. I gently prodded him with a finger, and asked what the matter was. He raised his bowed head and announced grimly,' I've been transferred to the Board of Torture and Punishments.'
A/n: Sorry for not uploading for so long XP I will try to upload ASAP. Meanwhile, enjoy this chapter =) Ja!