Disclaimer: Oh God, not again.. Ok fine. Don't own 'em, don't profit from
'em, just use 'em cause it's fun.
Comments: Dang! So demanding! "Update now, update now!" Don't you people know that I have a life?! Sheesh I didn't even bother to have this chapter beta'd. Ahem, ok now that that's over with. So far everyone seems to like this fic pretty well. Yay! And there was much rejoicing. Everyone keeps saying how sad it is..well yeah, such is life. I have a feeling that by the end you guys are really going to hate me though.. *sweatdrops* Maybe not.. I hope not. Eh hehe. For some reason FF.net is evil and some of my punctuation gets changed when I upload the story, so I made an attempt to compensate, so if it's really messed up in this one, I apologize. Anyway, hope you like it. Shime, you can stop stressing over whether or not Omi's in it, cause he is. Sheesh. Enjoy! R&R or else I will make much PAIN!! PAIN!!!
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I felt and saw nothing. The sound of my own humming filled my ears and the world became nothing more than a blur of blue and green. My breath came short and I fought to keep the sweat from my eyes. Somewhere a man was screaming. Somewhere a man was crying. Somewhere a man rocked a young boy back and forth, uttering a steady mantra, "You can hack it, you can hack it, you can hack it, you can hack it.."
I must have groaned. Somewhere in all the humming and crying and screaming I must have found my voice and groaned.
"Shit, Hidaka, sit back, man. You're in bad shape," Swanny had said sharply, pushing my chest back. "I'll take the chopper, that's why I'm here."
"The. the smoke," I gasped. "There was too much. smoke. My eyes sting."
"Sure, man, sure. That's the napalm fumes. You'll get used to it after a few flights out, but just sit back man. First time like this messes with your shit, just sit back."
I didn't want to sit back. I wanted to take us all home. I wanted to get that kid back to base, back to the infirmary. I wanted to get the screaming man something that would make him stop screaming and I wanted to bring the crying man's friend back to life. I didn't want Ran Fujimiya to see me go section eight. I didn't want to be that weak.
"No, it's ok. I'm gonna be fine," I said thinly, trying to shake the spinning in my head.
Swanny shoved me back into the seat hard and ripped my flight gear off my head. "I said sit back, Goddamn it! The lives of these soldiers depend on you, and you are not fit to fly right now. I'm taking the controls."
I'd wanted to argue, but couldn't find the breath.
"He's right, Hidaka. Give Swanny the stick. I'm not losing a pilot to his own damn machismo," I heard Fujimiya grumble.
Closing my eyes I sat back and waited.
The landing field was full of running, screaming people who were doing their best to be efficient. Stretchers were hauled about from helicopter to helicopter, and were wheeled away again towards the infirmary. The amount of morphine being tossed around was mind boggling. I remained in the pilot's seat waiting and listening as my helicopter was unloaded. I could hear Fujimiya helping to lift men out of the hold and direct them towards the infirmary, but I could not move.
All the noise and movement made me even dizzier than I was to begin with. More helicopters took off. Second wave. The thought of going back out there made my breath come short. My hands shook.
The hand on my shoulder made me jump. Fingers tightened painfully, holding me down.
"Hidaka, get out of the chopper. We're not going up again," Fujimiya's deep, even voice said, calming me.
I turned in my seat and looked up to meet his eyes. I wondered how much of my fear he could see there. Nothing showed on his face to let me know. I nodded dully, standing, moving into the hold. It was then that I smelled it. All the blood. The hold floor was covered in thick, slick blood. My head spun, and I lurched for the door, jumping down onto the grassy field below. More blood was smeared on the ground, and I felt the first heave in my stomach.
I'd managed to weave only a few steps before my knees buckled, the image of the man who had practically thrown up his own guts in the hold of my chopper overwhelming me. I hit my knees, clutching my stomach as I retched, dry heaving onto the grassy field.
"Hidaka!" It was unexpected, but I suddenly felt Fujimiya by my side, his hands supporting my shoulders, trying to pull me up.
I wheezed and bent forward, my forehead brushing the ground, my hair sticking maddeningly to my face. "Jesus. Fujimiya. oh Jesus Christ.," I choked. "What. what the fuck? I can't. I. oh fuck." Before I knew what I was doing I began to weep, tears to make up for all the tears I kept inside let loose down my face and my body shook with the overwhelming power of my sorrow.
"Hidaka, for the love of God, pull yourself together," Fujimiya growled, but his hands never became rough or impatient. I thought maybe he laid a hand on my back, but I couldn't be sure. I was too much of a mess. After a few moments I allowed Fujimiya to haul me to my feet and lead me away from the field, away from the sound of chopper blades and dying men. It wasn't until I hit my bed, still sobbing that I realized we were actually going anywhere specific. I hadn't even noticed.
I'd shut my eyes against the tears, wanting them to stop, wanting the shaking and the images to stop, but it all just kept coming. I laid on my bed, feeling the presence of Ran Fujimiya hovering over me, and I wondered if it had been like this for him the first time he had gone out, the first time he'd wasted a group of men with a machine gun. More I wondered if it had been like this for his lover. Yuushi. Had he reacted like this to the horror of it all? Had Ran carried him back to their barracks? I wondered. I couldn't help but wonder.
"What are you doing here, Hidaka?" I heard him hiss. I lay still, sucking back my tears. "Guys like you don't belong here. why the hell would they let a guy like you come to a hell like this? What the fucking hell are you doing in Nam?"
I'd laughed without meaning to. The irony of his question was too much and I began to laugh at the sickness of it all. "Wouldn't you like to know," I whispered.
He made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat and then walked away. His footsteps echoed in my mind even after he was long gone. The sound of footsteps was better than the sound of screaming.
I don't know how long I slept, but it must have been hours. It was evening by the time I woke up, feeling weak but no longer exhausted. I could hear voices and music playing. I opened my eyes, slowly pulling myself up on my bunk. I looked around blearily and tried to blink away the sleep. I looked over at the bunk across from mine to see Schuldich and Farfarello talking to a few other soldiers, all huddled around their bunk. The music came from a small radio propped up on the floor.
The music cut out. "And good evening to all our boys, be you in the field or wrapped up at base or tied down in some hospital somewhere. This is Liberty Livingston coming to you over US Military frequency 118 in conjunction with American Radio 88.8 KWIK bringing to you the soothing sounds of home and democracy before ten o'clock lock down. Today's casualty report will be coming in by the top of the hour, but before that, here's a little of the Mamas and the Papas."
I blinked, trying to decide how I felt about having to listen to the Mamas and the Papas before hearing the names of all the confirmed US dead for the day. Nobody else seemed to care, hell nobody else seemed to even really be listening to the radio. I coughed and swung my legs over the side of my bunk, sitting up fully.
"Hey, looks like the Jap's finally awake," I heard Jei intone callously. I did my best to glare at him angrily, but he only chuckled and got up, coming to stand over me, leaning against the top bunk. I looked up at him and he grinned back at me, his eyes wide and intense. I thought about what Kudou had said about him being crazy. At that moment I thought the lieutenant was probably right. "Things get a little intense out there? Yeah, all the blood and the yellin' and the smoke. Gets a lot of guys to thinking their first out."
"Get back, Patty," Schu grumbled, coming to stand on the other side of me. He shoved Farf's chest over my head. "Don't give the newbie shit."
"I aint giving shit. I'm just telling it how it is, you fuckin' Kraut," Farfarello snapped back, chuckling under his breath.
Shuldich ignored him and looked down at me, smiling wolfishly. "You feeling better, newbie? I saved some shit for you from mess. Kudou let you sleep all day, you should feel privileged, cause it won't happen again. Don't feel too bad though, a lot of guys lose their nerve on their first out. I was used to flying freight before I had my first retrieval mission. Catches you off guard, but you'll get used to it. So are you hungry or what?"
I realized that I was extremely hungry and touched my stomach, the dull ache there making me nauseous again. "Yeah, actually I'm starving," I'd said quietly.
Jei laughed harshly and smacked me on the back. "Yeah, I'd imagine. Especially since you spewed what was already in there all over the landing field this morning!" He went on laughing.
Schu smiled and snickered at the comment, ruffling my hair. "Like I said, kid, happens to a lot of guys. Don't sweat it. Maybe next time you'll just pass out instead of hurling, and then the time after that maybe just a slight headache. Before you know it you'll be flying this shit in your sleep. If you survive that long."
I glanced up at him and then stood up, shrugging off both of their hands. "Gee, thanks."
"Just telling it like it is, Hidaka. Anyway, if you want your food it's down in the infirmary," Shuldich went on.
"The infirmary?"
"Yeah, they closed down mess a couple of hours ago, so Kudou had it go to the infirmary cause he wants you to get checked out there anyway. This way if you want to eat you can't skip out on the check-up. He's terribly clever. At least he thinks so."
"Why do I need to be checked out?" I asked warily, rubbing my head.
Schu had simply shrugged and motioned to Farf. "I dunno. Kudou always has anyone who pulls a psych on a mission checked out. Just to make sure that it wasn't brought on by some sickness or that you aren't going to go section eight, that's all. He's a good Crew Commander.. he takes care of his own."
We stood in silence for a few moments, looking at each other, thinking about the Crew Commander. Eventually I nodded and turned away from Schuldich and his sidekick. Without another word I left the barracks and made my way towards the infirmary. I wondered absently how crowded it was. I wondered if the majority of the wounded we'd brought in were still on base or if they'd been flown out to the big hospital camps. I figured the later. We didn't have the resources to take care of a lot of badly wounded men.
Halfway across the base I ran into Fujimiya. He was coming back from somewhere, and for some reason I had the feeling that it was to talk to Lieutenant Kudou. I hailed him as we drew closer to each other.
"Hey, Fujimiya," I called out.
He paused and turned towards me. "You're finally up," he said flatly.
I'd smiled weakly and shook my head. "Yeah, I guess I really got screwed up this morning. Seeing what I saw just set me off.. er.. thanks for looking after me."
For a split second he looked uncomfortable and then turned his face away, so that I could no longer see. He shrugged and when he looked back at me he was passive again. "Don't thank me. There was enough confusion on that field. Leaving you there would only have made things worse."
I nodded, wondering why I had expected anything more. "You really know how to make a guy feel better, Fujimiya. Thanks.. I appreciate it," I said sarcastically and then turned away in disgust, but whether it was directed towards him or myself was something I could not be sure of.
As I walked away he paused for a moment and then called after me. "It isn't my job to blow sunshine up your ass, Hidaka. If you can't handle the shit you shouldn't be here, too many people's lives depend on you when you're out there."
His words made me so angry. What right did he have to tell me where I should and shouldn't be? He didn't know anything about me or my reasons for being in Nam. He'd told me explicitly that he never wanted to know anything about me, so what fucking right did he have to judge me?
On impulse I wheeled around and flipped him off, pausing just long enough to catch the look on his face, and then turned away, heading off without saying a word.
It felt good to flip Fujimiya the bird. Way better than it probably should have, but I was in a better mood already for having done it.
The infirmary was a large, rectangular building with concrete walls and a tin roof. It was almost as ugly inside as it was outside. Rows of hospital beds were lined up behind the nurse's station. Two emergency surgery units were set up in the way back, screened off from the rest of the room. There were three surgeons and five nurses stationed at Pang Nuan, just enough to take care of the minor and emergency stuff before the soldiers were moved on to bigger and better medical stations.
I entered the building, pushing through the heavy, metal door and stopped in front of the nurse's station. The two nurses on duty, Manx Huntington and Sheila Birman, looked up at me and smiled. Since the other nurses were men they were the only women on base. Both were fairly pretty, although Manx was less classically so. She had obnoxious red hair and a bad attitude, but was always good for a laugh. Sheila, or rather Ms. Birman, was beautiful and a widow at the age of 23. Her husband was killed in service almost two years before I arrived in Vietnam. She had joined the Red Cross nursing corps in order to honor her husband's death. She never let any of the soldiers call her by her first name, but insisted that as a married woman she be referred to as Ms. Birman, just plain Birman if she held you in good graces.
"Evening, pilot, you come for your dinner?" Manx asked me teasingly.
I nodded. "This is where they sent me for it."
"Alrighty then, but we're under strict orders to give you a thorough going over first," Manx went on, winking at me.
I rolled my eyes. "Alright, but I warn you, I'm really hungry so I might be a little cranky about it."
Manx giggled in her husky voice, elbowing Birman. "Promise, pilot?"
Ms. Birman shot Manx a rather disgusted glance. "Don't you ever think about anything that doesn't involve a bed?"
Manx chuckled. "Sure.. Just depends on how adventurous I'm feeling."
Birman rolled her eyes again and stood up, adjusting her khaki uniform. She patted Manx on the head and motioned to me to come behind the station. "Why don't you just man the station, honey. I'll give Private Hidaka his check up."
Manx chuckled again. "You always get to have all the fun."
I shook my head and followed Ms. Birman back towards the rows of hospital beds. A few disjointed moans floated out from between the rows. The sound made my hair stand on end, but Birman didn't even bother to react. She hitched her thumb at a screened off section just behind the nurse's station. "Have a seat on the table, Private."
"Yes, ma'am."
She chuckled softly and pushed my through the curtain. I hopped up onto the table as she reached for a tongue depressor. "Say 'ah.'"
I stuck out my tongue and complied. I sat patiently as Birman went through the motions, looking down my throat, checking my pulse and heart rate, blood pressure, etc. It only took a few minutes. "Any dizziness or nausea?"
"Not unless you count this morning," I said softly.
She shook her head. "And I don't. Well you aren't sick. You don't have malaria or yellow fever or any other kind of bug that might make you.. ill. You just had a little case of traumatic shock that's all. Happens to a lot of soldiers the first time they come face to face with the brutality of it all. Guys with missing legs and spewing blood have an adverse effect on the psyche. You'll get used to it, don't worry and don't feel bad. I do have something I can give you to help you through the next few missions though. A lot of guys take it, so don't think that you're copping out or anything. It's just an anti-anxiety pill. It might make you a little drowsy when you first take it, but it'll .. keep you from stressing over what you see. Just make sure you take a pill -after- the mission is over."
I blink at her and furrow my eyebrows. "What's in it?" I don't like the idea of taking medications.
"Benzodiazepine. It won't hurt you. Just take it if you have trouble sleeping or feel anxious or stressed out for any reason. You don't want to get in the habit of just popping pills all day long, but it is a legitimate medication for you to take to help calm your nerves. M'k?" Birman said kindly, looking into my eyes. Something about nurses always made me feel better.
I'd nodded, unable to think of any real reason why I shouldn't listen to her and then hopped down from the examination table, re-buttoning my shirt. Birman motioned for me to follow her back to the nurse's station.
"The pills and your dinner are in the station. I hope you don't mind cold mystery meat," she chuckled, pushing open the door to the small, cramped box in which the nurses spent their time. The radio in the corner was playing the same station that had been playing back in the barracks. An overplayed Beatles song was coming through the speakers, Manx sang along, filing her nails.
"'I wanna hold your haaand.. I wanna hold your hand..' So, is he gonna die or what?" she asked glancing over at us as we squeezed into the small space.
"Nah, healthy as a horse. I'm just going to give him some Benzo and send him on his way," Birman answered as she pushed past Manx's chair and began to rummage through the huge shelf of drugs set against the back wall.
Manx raised her eyebrows. "O-kay.."
"What? What's that supposed to mean?" Birman snapped, not turning around.
Manx looked at me and shrugged. I raised an eyebrow. "Nothing, I just don't think you need to give every guy who comes in here a complimentary prescription to Benzodiazepine. It's expensive and some people are allergic to it. Besides, it's probably addictive."
"Addictive?" I'd asked.
Birman shot Manx a dirty glance. "There is no proof of that whatsoever. Manx is just paranoid. Just take them in moderation. Yes, some people are allergic to it, so if you start to feel weak or disoriented or uncoordinated, bring them back. They won't kill you in any case. Here," she said shortly, tossing a glossy brown bottle to me.
I held the bottle in my hand, turning it in the light of the nurse's station. There was no label and the pills inside were small and nondescript. I could never imagine then what I was holding in my hand, and how it would effect my life.. not so much during the war, but after..
After a short conversation the nurses convinced me to sit and eat my left over dinner with them in the station. I felt kinda sorry for the poor girls, it must have gotten very boring in there, with just the two of them and the moaning sick. The food was less than impressive, but then again it always was. It did manage to make me feel better though, which is all I could have really hoped for at the time.
"Anyway, I should probably get these dishes back to mess," I said getting up to leave after I'd finished.
Manx shook her head. "Naw just leave them here. We'll take them back."
"I can't ask you to do that," I'd protested.
Ms. Birman swiveled towards me in her chair. "Believe me, with all the guys in here since this morning we aren't going to notice having to take back one more set of dishes."
I smiled and shrugged. "I guess you're right, thanks though."
"No problem, kiddo," Manx said as I stepped through the door and out of the station.
A sudden thought occurred to me as I thought over Birman's words. I wondered if that kid I'd risked the chopper for was still at Pang Nuan. or is he'd even survived. He'd looked to be in pretty bad shape when he was lifted into the hold. I paused and turned. "Hey, do either of you know it there's a kid here? A small guy who would have come in probably with a guy who was missing his legs.. screaming a lot. His leg was all shot up I think.. er.. the kid's not the screaming guy's. Does any of that ring a bell?"
Manx and Ms. Birman exchanged a glance. "Yeah, the screaming guy sure does. He was given something to shut him up and then medivaced somewhere north of here. Jesus, what a mess," Manx grumbled. "Anyway, I think that kid you're talking about is still here. Doctor Madison worked on him this morning. He wasn't in as bad of shape as we thought, lots of shrapnel in his leg and a lacerated stomach, but nothing we couldn't handle. I think he's actually one of the only guys from his unit that's still hanging around here.. most of the infantry guys who were still on their feet were airlifted to the transport station down the river. Probably going to be reassigned. Poor bastards." Manx shook her head at this and went back to filing her nails.
"I see," I said softly.
Birman looked over at me and pointed out the door. "He's back there if you want to see him. I'm taking it he's one of the guys you rescued, right? But he's so hopped up on morphine right now he's probably in la la land. You can check on him yourself though, like I said. Now that I think about it, I think he was babbling something about wanting to see his pilot before we knocked him out. What's the story?"
I shrugged. "No story. I just waited behind a few minutes for some soldier to find him, that's all. He did, but by the looks of him I thought the kid was going to die anyway."
"Ah. Well, go back if you want."
I'd nodded and closed the door to the station behind me. I thought that going to look at the kid, even if he was knocked out on his ass by morphine, might make me feel a little more human again. I made my way down the rows of hospital beds, knowing that the ones which were screened off were occupied. I glanced through every curtain until I came to a bed that held a small enough figure to be the kid who managed to hack it all the way back to base. I moved the curtain aside and went to stand by the bed.
I looked down at the still figure that lay there and smiled slowly. I knew that the soldier in the bed had to be at least seventeen, but in sleep he didn't seem to be even that old. His hair was honey colored and it fell forward over his forehead and ears. I couldn't tell what color his eyes were since they were closed, but something told me that they were probably blue. It seemed right that they would be. I stood there for several minutes just staring down at the unconscious kid, thinking about how he was somebody's son, somebody's brother, and about how he would be dead if it wasn't for me. If I hadn't stayed behind this kid who was sleeping before me would have most likely died in that death hole I'd flown into. The thought made me feel good, it made me feel glad that I had come to Nam. If I died the next day I could do it knowing that I at least made a difference to one person's life.
Thinking this, and without meaning to, I'd reached out and touched the kid's forehead. As my fingers gently brushed against his skin his eyelids fluttered and slowly opened. All of a sudden I found myself under the scrutinizing gaze of the deepest pair of blue eyes I had ever seen. They were wide and soulful, peering at me through a haze of morphine and sleep. Their depth made me uncomfortable, and pulling my hand away hastily I turned to leave, hoping the kid wouldn't register any of it.
As I turned small, vice-like fingers reached out and caught my wrist, making me pause. I turned my head to look over my shoulder, the kid just lay there, staring at me.
"Were you my pilot?"
".. Huh?"
"Were you my pilot, were you the pilot who waited?"
I nodded slowly and turned around again, letting him draw my back towards the bed. When he felt I was close enough he relaxed his grip on my wrist, his hand trailing down to my hand. He laced his cold fingers with my own, squeezing gently, and then lay there looking up at nothing.
The act caught me off guard. Here I'd just come to see if the kid was still alive and I'd ended up holding hands with him. I couldn't think of anything to do so I just stood there, letting his fingers stay entwined with my own and waited for him to say something. I reminded myself that the kid was hopped up on morphine and probably a few other drugs as well. He might not say anything at all, he might not even realize he was holding my hand. Yet I didn't really want to let go.. I didn't want to move away or leave the poor kid alone. Standing there, holding his hand made me feel more human than I had since I'd arrived at Pang Nuan.
After a long while he turned his head again, his eye brightened as they focused on me once more. He squeezed my hand and smiled. "I'm sorry. I meant to thank you, but I think I forgot. Whatever they've got me on is making it a little foggy in my head." He laughed quietly at this and then grimaced. "Ok, no more laughing."
He sighed. I began to pull away. "I should let you get some rest.."
His grip tightened on my hand. "No, you don't have to!" he'd nearly cried and then seemed to catch himself. "Er.. I'm sorry, of course you probably have duties to perform. I don't want to keep you here."
I relaxed again, stepping closer. "No, it isn't that. I really don't have anything to do other than go back to the barracks and go back to sleep. Then again.. I've been sleeping all day. I just.. I just came back here to see if you were all right. You looked like you were in pretty bad shape in the chopper. I wanted to make sure that I hadn't waited for nothing. I didn't intend to disturb you."
He shook his head. "You didn't. I wanted to meet you, really. I wanted to thank you for waiting when Jefe asked you to. He told me about it while we were waiting.. but he's gone now. He left with the others this afternoon. I was still in surgery then," his voice trailed off and then he looked up at me intensely. "If it wasn't for you, I'd be dead right now."
I shrugged. "I can't imagine that I did anything that nobody else would do."
The kid shook his head. "No way, that's not true. You must not have been here very long if you think that's the way it is. Most pilots would have blown out of there faster than you can wink. Who cares about just one more wasted soldier, right? But you waited. You waited for me, and I'll never forget that." He squeezed my hand again.
This time I smiled and squeezed back a little. "I was just doing my job, kid."
"Omi."
"What's that?"
"Omi, it's my name. Don't call me 'kid' I hate it. Everyone in my platoon always called me 'The Kid.' It gets annoying after awhile. Just cause I'm the youngest.. and the smallest."
I'd chuckled and shaken my head. "Sure, I guess I can see that. Omi then. You have a last name, Omi?"
"Tsukiyono, but most people find it hard to pronounce, so I just go with Omi."
"Yeah well, I speak Japanese, so I don't find it hard to pronounce, Tsukiyono Omi," I said, speaking his name in the traditional style. With a name like that I knew the kid was Japanese somewhere, though I couldn't tell by looking. I was beginning to wonder how I managed to be surrounded by so many mixed-breed Asians.
Omi giggled and then coughed. "Heh, you sound like my grandfather. He's the only one in my family that's really Japanese. The rest of us are pretty much whiter than white, but the name sticks so, I guess that makes me Japanese too, huh?"
I shook my head. "Doesn't matter. Six of one, half a dozen of the other."
He smiled at me softly and then sighed. "Are you going to tell me your name?"
"Ken Hidaka."
"Can I call you Ken?"
I blinked and then smiled. "Sure. Nobody else around here does."
We stared at each other for a few more moments and then the kid sighed again and squeezed my hand one last time. "Well, Ken. I suddenly realized that I'm really tired. And I should let you go and get some sleep too," he said softly and then turned his deep blue eyes on me once again. They were suddenly intense. "Will you come and see me tomorrow? I'm going to be stuck in this bed for days, and everyone in my platoon is either dead or relocated by now. You're the only person I know here.. and I think I'll go crazy if I can't talk to anyone."
I smiled distantly and then released his hand, setting it gently at his side. "Sure, kid. I don't really have anyone to talk to either, so it'll be a win/win situation. Talk to you later then. Good night."
I turned to walk away, and heard the kid call after me softly. "Goodnight, Ken. Thank you."
I didn't stop or pause to acknowledge his parting call, but just kept moving, heading for the door. It felt strangely cramped in the infirmary all of a sudden. I thought about the kid and his strange behavior. Not all that strange perhaps, but unnerving to someone who was used to being rather ignored. I wondered briefly if it was a good idea to get to know the kid, to become his friend as he seemed intent on my becoming. Most likely he'd get transferred or I'd get shot out of the sky or something. But I guess that was the risk you had to take if you didn't want to end up icing yourself off like Ran Fujimiya. I wondered why I suddenly brought him into the equation and then deftly cut him back out of it. I decided that there was a part of me that wanted a friend badly enough to disregard the consequences. It hurt to be empty.
Little did I know how much of a mixed blessing Omi Tsukiyono would be.
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Notes:
Benzodiazepine is a drug used in anti-anxiety medication. It's baaad. Not good. No no. It is physically and psychologically addictive, but nobody knew this until the 1980s. Thus it was -highly- prescribed during and immediately following the Vietnam War to help 'soothe' soldiers and veterans alike. (Hmm. and you were wondering what it was exactly that Ken was taking like candy, ne? And how do I know this stuff?)
Morphine: No not just a fun drug that heroine addicts like, but a highly effective pain killer. Used in mass quantities during the Vietnam War due to the rather painful nature of most wounds received during guerilla warfare. A lot of Vietnam Veterans became addicted to morphine during their time in military medical facilities and continued the habit back home. One of the many reasons so many vets had a hell of a time readjusting to life after the war.
Hoped you liked it! If anything is confusing let me know and I'll do my best to clear it up. Review!! Now!! Do it now!! Go!!
Comments: Dang! So demanding! "Update now, update now!" Don't you people know that I have a life?! Sheesh I didn't even bother to have this chapter beta'd. Ahem, ok now that that's over with. So far everyone seems to like this fic pretty well. Yay! And there was much rejoicing. Everyone keeps saying how sad it is..well yeah, such is life. I have a feeling that by the end you guys are really going to hate me though.. *sweatdrops* Maybe not.. I hope not. Eh hehe. For some reason FF.net is evil and some of my punctuation gets changed when I upload the story, so I made an attempt to compensate, so if it's really messed up in this one, I apologize. Anyway, hope you like it. Shime, you can stop stressing over whether or not Omi's in it, cause he is. Sheesh. Enjoy! R&R or else I will make much PAIN!! PAIN!!!
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I felt and saw nothing. The sound of my own humming filled my ears and the world became nothing more than a blur of blue and green. My breath came short and I fought to keep the sweat from my eyes. Somewhere a man was screaming. Somewhere a man was crying. Somewhere a man rocked a young boy back and forth, uttering a steady mantra, "You can hack it, you can hack it, you can hack it, you can hack it.."
I must have groaned. Somewhere in all the humming and crying and screaming I must have found my voice and groaned.
"Shit, Hidaka, sit back, man. You're in bad shape," Swanny had said sharply, pushing my chest back. "I'll take the chopper, that's why I'm here."
"The. the smoke," I gasped. "There was too much. smoke. My eyes sting."
"Sure, man, sure. That's the napalm fumes. You'll get used to it after a few flights out, but just sit back man. First time like this messes with your shit, just sit back."
I didn't want to sit back. I wanted to take us all home. I wanted to get that kid back to base, back to the infirmary. I wanted to get the screaming man something that would make him stop screaming and I wanted to bring the crying man's friend back to life. I didn't want Ran Fujimiya to see me go section eight. I didn't want to be that weak.
"No, it's ok. I'm gonna be fine," I said thinly, trying to shake the spinning in my head.
Swanny shoved me back into the seat hard and ripped my flight gear off my head. "I said sit back, Goddamn it! The lives of these soldiers depend on you, and you are not fit to fly right now. I'm taking the controls."
I'd wanted to argue, but couldn't find the breath.
"He's right, Hidaka. Give Swanny the stick. I'm not losing a pilot to his own damn machismo," I heard Fujimiya grumble.
Closing my eyes I sat back and waited.
The landing field was full of running, screaming people who were doing their best to be efficient. Stretchers were hauled about from helicopter to helicopter, and were wheeled away again towards the infirmary. The amount of morphine being tossed around was mind boggling. I remained in the pilot's seat waiting and listening as my helicopter was unloaded. I could hear Fujimiya helping to lift men out of the hold and direct them towards the infirmary, but I could not move.
All the noise and movement made me even dizzier than I was to begin with. More helicopters took off. Second wave. The thought of going back out there made my breath come short. My hands shook.
The hand on my shoulder made me jump. Fingers tightened painfully, holding me down.
"Hidaka, get out of the chopper. We're not going up again," Fujimiya's deep, even voice said, calming me.
I turned in my seat and looked up to meet his eyes. I wondered how much of my fear he could see there. Nothing showed on his face to let me know. I nodded dully, standing, moving into the hold. It was then that I smelled it. All the blood. The hold floor was covered in thick, slick blood. My head spun, and I lurched for the door, jumping down onto the grassy field below. More blood was smeared on the ground, and I felt the first heave in my stomach.
I'd managed to weave only a few steps before my knees buckled, the image of the man who had practically thrown up his own guts in the hold of my chopper overwhelming me. I hit my knees, clutching my stomach as I retched, dry heaving onto the grassy field.
"Hidaka!" It was unexpected, but I suddenly felt Fujimiya by my side, his hands supporting my shoulders, trying to pull me up.
I wheezed and bent forward, my forehead brushing the ground, my hair sticking maddeningly to my face. "Jesus. Fujimiya. oh Jesus Christ.," I choked. "What. what the fuck? I can't. I. oh fuck." Before I knew what I was doing I began to weep, tears to make up for all the tears I kept inside let loose down my face and my body shook with the overwhelming power of my sorrow.
"Hidaka, for the love of God, pull yourself together," Fujimiya growled, but his hands never became rough or impatient. I thought maybe he laid a hand on my back, but I couldn't be sure. I was too much of a mess. After a few moments I allowed Fujimiya to haul me to my feet and lead me away from the field, away from the sound of chopper blades and dying men. It wasn't until I hit my bed, still sobbing that I realized we were actually going anywhere specific. I hadn't even noticed.
I'd shut my eyes against the tears, wanting them to stop, wanting the shaking and the images to stop, but it all just kept coming. I laid on my bed, feeling the presence of Ran Fujimiya hovering over me, and I wondered if it had been like this for him the first time he had gone out, the first time he'd wasted a group of men with a machine gun. More I wondered if it had been like this for his lover. Yuushi. Had he reacted like this to the horror of it all? Had Ran carried him back to their barracks? I wondered. I couldn't help but wonder.
"What are you doing here, Hidaka?" I heard him hiss. I lay still, sucking back my tears. "Guys like you don't belong here. why the hell would they let a guy like you come to a hell like this? What the fucking hell are you doing in Nam?"
I'd laughed without meaning to. The irony of his question was too much and I began to laugh at the sickness of it all. "Wouldn't you like to know," I whispered.
He made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat and then walked away. His footsteps echoed in my mind even after he was long gone. The sound of footsteps was better than the sound of screaming.
I don't know how long I slept, but it must have been hours. It was evening by the time I woke up, feeling weak but no longer exhausted. I could hear voices and music playing. I opened my eyes, slowly pulling myself up on my bunk. I looked around blearily and tried to blink away the sleep. I looked over at the bunk across from mine to see Schuldich and Farfarello talking to a few other soldiers, all huddled around their bunk. The music came from a small radio propped up on the floor.
The music cut out. "And good evening to all our boys, be you in the field or wrapped up at base or tied down in some hospital somewhere. This is Liberty Livingston coming to you over US Military frequency 118 in conjunction with American Radio 88.8 KWIK bringing to you the soothing sounds of home and democracy before ten o'clock lock down. Today's casualty report will be coming in by the top of the hour, but before that, here's a little of the Mamas and the Papas."
I blinked, trying to decide how I felt about having to listen to the Mamas and the Papas before hearing the names of all the confirmed US dead for the day. Nobody else seemed to care, hell nobody else seemed to even really be listening to the radio. I coughed and swung my legs over the side of my bunk, sitting up fully.
"Hey, looks like the Jap's finally awake," I heard Jei intone callously. I did my best to glare at him angrily, but he only chuckled and got up, coming to stand over me, leaning against the top bunk. I looked up at him and he grinned back at me, his eyes wide and intense. I thought about what Kudou had said about him being crazy. At that moment I thought the lieutenant was probably right. "Things get a little intense out there? Yeah, all the blood and the yellin' and the smoke. Gets a lot of guys to thinking their first out."
"Get back, Patty," Schu grumbled, coming to stand on the other side of me. He shoved Farf's chest over my head. "Don't give the newbie shit."
"I aint giving shit. I'm just telling it how it is, you fuckin' Kraut," Farfarello snapped back, chuckling under his breath.
Shuldich ignored him and looked down at me, smiling wolfishly. "You feeling better, newbie? I saved some shit for you from mess. Kudou let you sleep all day, you should feel privileged, cause it won't happen again. Don't feel too bad though, a lot of guys lose their nerve on their first out. I was used to flying freight before I had my first retrieval mission. Catches you off guard, but you'll get used to it. So are you hungry or what?"
I realized that I was extremely hungry and touched my stomach, the dull ache there making me nauseous again. "Yeah, actually I'm starving," I'd said quietly.
Jei laughed harshly and smacked me on the back. "Yeah, I'd imagine. Especially since you spewed what was already in there all over the landing field this morning!" He went on laughing.
Schu smiled and snickered at the comment, ruffling my hair. "Like I said, kid, happens to a lot of guys. Don't sweat it. Maybe next time you'll just pass out instead of hurling, and then the time after that maybe just a slight headache. Before you know it you'll be flying this shit in your sleep. If you survive that long."
I glanced up at him and then stood up, shrugging off both of their hands. "Gee, thanks."
"Just telling it like it is, Hidaka. Anyway, if you want your food it's down in the infirmary," Shuldich went on.
"The infirmary?"
"Yeah, they closed down mess a couple of hours ago, so Kudou had it go to the infirmary cause he wants you to get checked out there anyway. This way if you want to eat you can't skip out on the check-up. He's terribly clever. At least he thinks so."
"Why do I need to be checked out?" I asked warily, rubbing my head.
Schu had simply shrugged and motioned to Farf. "I dunno. Kudou always has anyone who pulls a psych on a mission checked out. Just to make sure that it wasn't brought on by some sickness or that you aren't going to go section eight, that's all. He's a good Crew Commander.. he takes care of his own."
We stood in silence for a few moments, looking at each other, thinking about the Crew Commander. Eventually I nodded and turned away from Schuldich and his sidekick. Without another word I left the barracks and made my way towards the infirmary. I wondered absently how crowded it was. I wondered if the majority of the wounded we'd brought in were still on base or if they'd been flown out to the big hospital camps. I figured the later. We didn't have the resources to take care of a lot of badly wounded men.
Halfway across the base I ran into Fujimiya. He was coming back from somewhere, and for some reason I had the feeling that it was to talk to Lieutenant Kudou. I hailed him as we drew closer to each other.
"Hey, Fujimiya," I called out.
He paused and turned towards me. "You're finally up," he said flatly.
I'd smiled weakly and shook my head. "Yeah, I guess I really got screwed up this morning. Seeing what I saw just set me off.. er.. thanks for looking after me."
For a split second he looked uncomfortable and then turned his face away, so that I could no longer see. He shrugged and when he looked back at me he was passive again. "Don't thank me. There was enough confusion on that field. Leaving you there would only have made things worse."
I nodded, wondering why I had expected anything more. "You really know how to make a guy feel better, Fujimiya. Thanks.. I appreciate it," I said sarcastically and then turned away in disgust, but whether it was directed towards him or myself was something I could not be sure of.
As I walked away he paused for a moment and then called after me. "It isn't my job to blow sunshine up your ass, Hidaka. If you can't handle the shit you shouldn't be here, too many people's lives depend on you when you're out there."
His words made me so angry. What right did he have to tell me where I should and shouldn't be? He didn't know anything about me or my reasons for being in Nam. He'd told me explicitly that he never wanted to know anything about me, so what fucking right did he have to judge me?
On impulse I wheeled around and flipped him off, pausing just long enough to catch the look on his face, and then turned away, heading off without saying a word.
It felt good to flip Fujimiya the bird. Way better than it probably should have, but I was in a better mood already for having done it.
The infirmary was a large, rectangular building with concrete walls and a tin roof. It was almost as ugly inside as it was outside. Rows of hospital beds were lined up behind the nurse's station. Two emergency surgery units were set up in the way back, screened off from the rest of the room. There were three surgeons and five nurses stationed at Pang Nuan, just enough to take care of the minor and emergency stuff before the soldiers were moved on to bigger and better medical stations.
I entered the building, pushing through the heavy, metal door and stopped in front of the nurse's station. The two nurses on duty, Manx Huntington and Sheila Birman, looked up at me and smiled. Since the other nurses were men they were the only women on base. Both were fairly pretty, although Manx was less classically so. She had obnoxious red hair and a bad attitude, but was always good for a laugh. Sheila, or rather Ms. Birman, was beautiful and a widow at the age of 23. Her husband was killed in service almost two years before I arrived in Vietnam. She had joined the Red Cross nursing corps in order to honor her husband's death. She never let any of the soldiers call her by her first name, but insisted that as a married woman she be referred to as Ms. Birman, just plain Birman if she held you in good graces.
"Evening, pilot, you come for your dinner?" Manx asked me teasingly.
I nodded. "This is where they sent me for it."
"Alrighty then, but we're under strict orders to give you a thorough going over first," Manx went on, winking at me.
I rolled my eyes. "Alright, but I warn you, I'm really hungry so I might be a little cranky about it."
Manx giggled in her husky voice, elbowing Birman. "Promise, pilot?"
Ms. Birman shot Manx a rather disgusted glance. "Don't you ever think about anything that doesn't involve a bed?"
Manx chuckled. "Sure.. Just depends on how adventurous I'm feeling."
Birman rolled her eyes again and stood up, adjusting her khaki uniform. She patted Manx on the head and motioned to me to come behind the station. "Why don't you just man the station, honey. I'll give Private Hidaka his check up."
Manx chuckled again. "You always get to have all the fun."
I shook my head and followed Ms. Birman back towards the rows of hospital beds. A few disjointed moans floated out from between the rows. The sound made my hair stand on end, but Birman didn't even bother to react. She hitched her thumb at a screened off section just behind the nurse's station. "Have a seat on the table, Private."
"Yes, ma'am."
She chuckled softly and pushed my through the curtain. I hopped up onto the table as she reached for a tongue depressor. "Say 'ah.'"
I stuck out my tongue and complied. I sat patiently as Birman went through the motions, looking down my throat, checking my pulse and heart rate, blood pressure, etc. It only took a few minutes. "Any dizziness or nausea?"
"Not unless you count this morning," I said softly.
She shook her head. "And I don't. Well you aren't sick. You don't have malaria or yellow fever or any other kind of bug that might make you.. ill. You just had a little case of traumatic shock that's all. Happens to a lot of soldiers the first time they come face to face with the brutality of it all. Guys with missing legs and spewing blood have an adverse effect on the psyche. You'll get used to it, don't worry and don't feel bad. I do have something I can give you to help you through the next few missions though. A lot of guys take it, so don't think that you're copping out or anything. It's just an anti-anxiety pill. It might make you a little drowsy when you first take it, but it'll .. keep you from stressing over what you see. Just make sure you take a pill -after- the mission is over."
I blink at her and furrow my eyebrows. "What's in it?" I don't like the idea of taking medications.
"Benzodiazepine. It won't hurt you. Just take it if you have trouble sleeping or feel anxious or stressed out for any reason. You don't want to get in the habit of just popping pills all day long, but it is a legitimate medication for you to take to help calm your nerves. M'k?" Birman said kindly, looking into my eyes. Something about nurses always made me feel better.
I'd nodded, unable to think of any real reason why I shouldn't listen to her and then hopped down from the examination table, re-buttoning my shirt. Birman motioned for me to follow her back to the nurse's station.
"The pills and your dinner are in the station. I hope you don't mind cold mystery meat," she chuckled, pushing open the door to the small, cramped box in which the nurses spent their time. The radio in the corner was playing the same station that had been playing back in the barracks. An overplayed Beatles song was coming through the speakers, Manx sang along, filing her nails.
"'I wanna hold your haaand.. I wanna hold your hand..' So, is he gonna die or what?" she asked glancing over at us as we squeezed into the small space.
"Nah, healthy as a horse. I'm just going to give him some Benzo and send him on his way," Birman answered as she pushed past Manx's chair and began to rummage through the huge shelf of drugs set against the back wall.
Manx raised her eyebrows. "O-kay.."
"What? What's that supposed to mean?" Birman snapped, not turning around.
Manx looked at me and shrugged. I raised an eyebrow. "Nothing, I just don't think you need to give every guy who comes in here a complimentary prescription to Benzodiazepine. It's expensive and some people are allergic to it. Besides, it's probably addictive."
"Addictive?" I'd asked.
Birman shot Manx a dirty glance. "There is no proof of that whatsoever. Manx is just paranoid. Just take them in moderation. Yes, some people are allergic to it, so if you start to feel weak or disoriented or uncoordinated, bring them back. They won't kill you in any case. Here," she said shortly, tossing a glossy brown bottle to me.
I held the bottle in my hand, turning it in the light of the nurse's station. There was no label and the pills inside were small and nondescript. I could never imagine then what I was holding in my hand, and how it would effect my life.. not so much during the war, but after..
After a short conversation the nurses convinced me to sit and eat my left over dinner with them in the station. I felt kinda sorry for the poor girls, it must have gotten very boring in there, with just the two of them and the moaning sick. The food was less than impressive, but then again it always was. It did manage to make me feel better though, which is all I could have really hoped for at the time.
"Anyway, I should probably get these dishes back to mess," I said getting up to leave after I'd finished.
Manx shook her head. "Naw just leave them here. We'll take them back."
"I can't ask you to do that," I'd protested.
Ms. Birman swiveled towards me in her chair. "Believe me, with all the guys in here since this morning we aren't going to notice having to take back one more set of dishes."
I smiled and shrugged. "I guess you're right, thanks though."
"No problem, kiddo," Manx said as I stepped through the door and out of the station.
A sudden thought occurred to me as I thought over Birman's words. I wondered if that kid I'd risked the chopper for was still at Pang Nuan. or is he'd even survived. He'd looked to be in pretty bad shape when he was lifted into the hold. I paused and turned. "Hey, do either of you know it there's a kid here? A small guy who would have come in probably with a guy who was missing his legs.. screaming a lot. His leg was all shot up I think.. er.. the kid's not the screaming guy's. Does any of that ring a bell?"
Manx and Ms. Birman exchanged a glance. "Yeah, the screaming guy sure does. He was given something to shut him up and then medivaced somewhere north of here. Jesus, what a mess," Manx grumbled. "Anyway, I think that kid you're talking about is still here. Doctor Madison worked on him this morning. He wasn't in as bad of shape as we thought, lots of shrapnel in his leg and a lacerated stomach, but nothing we couldn't handle. I think he's actually one of the only guys from his unit that's still hanging around here.. most of the infantry guys who were still on their feet were airlifted to the transport station down the river. Probably going to be reassigned. Poor bastards." Manx shook her head at this and went back to filing her nails.
"I see," I said softly.
Birman looked over at me and pointed out the door. "He's back there if you want to see him. I'm taking it he's one of the guys you rescued, right? But he's so hopped up on morphine right now he's probably in la la land. You can check on him yourself though, like I said. Now that I think about it, I think he was babbling something about wanting to see his pilot before we knocked him out. What's the story?"
I shrugged. "No story. I just waited behind a few minutes for some soldier to find him, that's all. He did, but by the looks of him I thought the kid was going to die anyway."
"Ah. Well, go back if you want."
I'd nodded and closed the door to the station behind me. I thought that going to look at the kid, even if he was knocked out on his ass by morphine, might make me feel a little more human again. I made my way down the rows of hospital beds, knowing that the ones which were screened off were occupied. I glanced through every curtain until I came to a bed that held a small enough figure to be the kid who managed to hack it all the way back to base. I moved the curtain aside and went to stand by the bed.
I looked down at the still figure that lay there and smiled slowly. I knew that the soldier in the bed had to be at least seventeen, but in sleep he didn't seem to be even that old. His hair was honey colored and it fell forward over his forehead and ears. I couldn't tell what color his eyes were since they were closed, but something told me that they were probably blue. It seemed right that they would be. I stood there for several minutes just staring down at the unconscious kid, thinking about how he was somebody's son, somebody's brother, and about how he would be dead if it wasn't for me. If I hadn't stayed behind this kid who was sleeping before me would have most likely died in that death hole I'd flown into. The thought made me feel good, it made me feel glad that I had come to Nam. If I died the next day I could do it knowing that I at least made a difference to one person's life.
Thinking this, and without meaning to, I'd reached out and touched the kid's forehead. As my fingers gently brushed against his skin his eyelids fluttered and slowly opened. All of a sudden I found myself under the scrutinizing gaze of the deepest pair of blue eyes I had ever seen. They were wide and soulful, peering at me through a haze of morphine and sleep. Their depth made me uncomfortable, and pulling my hand away hastily I turned to leave, hoping the kid wouldn't register any of it.
As I turned small, vice-like fingers reached out and caught my wrist, making me pause. I turned my head to look over my shoulder, the kid just lay there, staring at me.
"Were you my pilot?"
".. Huh?"
"Were you my pilot, were you the pilot who waited?"
I nodded slowly and turned around again, letting him draw my back towards the bed. When he felt I was close enough he relaxed his grip on my wrist, his hand trailing down to my hand. He laced his cold fingers with my own, squeezing gently, and then lay there looking up at nothing.
The act caught me off guard. Here I'd just come to see if the kid was still alive and I'd ended up holding hands with him. I couldn't think of anything to do so I just stood there, letting his fingers stay entwined with my own and waited for him to say something. I reminded myself that the kid was hopped up on morphine and probably a few other drugs as well. He might not say anything at all, he might not even realize he was holding my hand. Yet I didn't really want to let go.. I didn't want to move away or leave the poor kid alone. Standing there, holding his hand made me feel more human than I had since I'd arrived at Pang Nuan.
After a long while he turned his head again, his eye brightened as they focused on me once more. He squeezed my hand and smiled. "I'm sorry. I meant to thank you, but I think I forgot. Whatever they've got me on is making it a little foggy in my head." He laughed quietly at this and then grimaced. "Ok, no more laughing."
He sighed. I began to pull away. "I should let you get some rest.."
His grip tightened on my hand. "No, you don't have to!" he'd nearly cried and then seemed to catch himself. "Er.. I'm sorry, of course you probably have duties to perform. I don't want to keep you here."
I relaxed again, stepping closer. "No, it isn't that. I really don't have anything to do other than go back to the barracks and go back to sleep. Then again.. I've been sleeping all day. I just.. I just came back here to see if you were all right. You looked like you were in pretty bad shape in the chopper. I wanted to make sure that I hadn't waited for nothing. I didn't intend to disturb you."
He shook his head. "You didn't. I wanted to meet you, really. I wanted to thank you for waiting when Jefe asked you to. He told me about it while we were waiting.. but he's gone now. He left with the others this afternoon. I was still in surgery then," his voice trailed off and then he looked up at me intensely. "If it wasn't for you, I'd be dead right now."
I shrugged. "I can't imagine that I did anything that nobody else would do."
The kid shook his head. "No way, that's not true. You must not have been here very long if you think that's the way it is. Most pilots would have blown out of there faster than you can wink. Who cares about just one more wasted soldier, right? But you waited. You waited for me, and I'll never forget that." He squeezed my hand again.
This time I smiled and squeezed back a little. "I was just doing my job, kid."
"Omi."
"What's that?"
"Omi, it's my name. Don't call me 'kid' I hate it. Everyone in my platoon always called me 'The Kid.' It gets annoying after awhile. Just cause I'm the youngest.. and the smallest."
I'd chuckled and shaken my head. "Sure, I guess I can see that. Omi then. You have a last name, Omi?"
"Tsukiyono, but most people find it hard to pronounce, so I just go with Omi."
"Yeah well, I speak Japanese, so I don't find it hard to pronounce, Tsukiyono Omi," I said, speaking his name in the traditional style. With a name like that I knew the kid was Japanese somewhere, though I couldn't tell by looking. I was beginning to wonder how I managed to be surrounded by so many mixed-breed Asians.
Omi giggled and then coughed. "Heh, you sound like my grandfather. He's the only one in my family that's really Japanese. The rest of us are pretty much whiter than white, but the name sticks so, I guess that makes me Japanese too, huh?"
I shook my head. "Doesn't matter. Six of one, half a dozen of the other."
He smiled at me softly and then sighed. "Are you going to tell me your name?"
"Ken Hidaka."
"Can I call you Ken?"
I blinked and then smiled. "Sure. Nobody else around here does."
We stared at each other for a few more moments and then the kid sighed again and squeezed my hand one last time. "Well, Ken. I suddenly realized that I'm really tired. And I should let you go and get some sleep too," he said softly and then turned his deep blue eyes on me once again. They were suddenly intense. "Will you come and see me tomorrow? I'm going to be stuck in this bed for days, and everyone in my platoon is either dead or relocated by now. You're the only person I know here.. and I think I'll go crazy if I can't talk to anyone."
I smiled distantly and then released his hand, setting it gently at his side. "Sure, kid. I don't really have anyone to talk to either, so it'll be a win/win situation. Talk to you later then. Good night."
I turned to walk away, and heard the kid call after me softly. "Goodnight, Ken. Thank you."
I didn't stop or pause to acknowledge his parting call, but just kept moving, heading for the door. It felt strangely cramped in the infirmary all of a sudden. I thought about the kid and his strange behavior. Not all that strange perhaps, but unnerving to someone who was used to being rather ignored. I wondered briefly if it was a good idea to get to know the kid, to become his friend as he seemed intent on my becoming. Most likely he'd get transferred or I'd get shot out of the sky or something. But I guess that was the risk you had to take if you didn't want to end up icing yourself off like Ran Fujimiya. I wondered why I suddenly brought him into the equation and then deftly cut him back out of it. I decided that there was a part of me that wanted a friend badly enough to disregard the consequences. It hurt to be empty.
Little did I know how much of a mixed blessing Omi Tsukiyono would be.
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Notes:
Benzodiazepine is a drug used in anti-anxiety medication. It's baaad. Not good. No no. It is physically and psychologically addictive, but nobody knew this until the 1980s. Thus it was -highly- prescribed during and immediately following the Vietnam War to help 'soothe' soldiers and veterans alike. (Hmm. and you were wondering what it was exactly that Ken was taking like candy, ne? And how do I know this stuff?)
Morphine: No not just a fun drug that heroine addicts like, but a highly effective pain killer. Used in mass quantities during the Vietnam War due to the rather painful nature of most wounds received during guerilla warfare. A lot of Vietnam Veterans became addicted to morphine during their time in military medical facilities and continued the habit back home. One of the many reasons so many vets had a hell of a time readjusting to life after the war.
Hoped you liked it! If anything is confusing let me know and I'll do my best to clear it up. Review!! Now!! Do it now!! Go!!