DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from the Ouran High School Host Club. Also, all other characters are fictional and are not intentional references to any existing persons. All are entirely coincidental. All racial/politically incorrect statements are not the sentiments of the author, but are used for historical accuracy and literary devices. This fanfiction is not intended to offend.
Please review! Reviews give me the incentive to keep writing quickly.
Hideaki Fujioka attempted to fold himself into a tight ball on one side of the aircraft bench, feebly trying to avoid the less-than-kind stares of the bulkier American soldiers across the hold.
Silence filled the plane, as all were unsure of what to say. Perhaps, though, they were trying to preserve the last moments of peace before the troops were unleashed upon the Pacific Theatre. Hideaki had his own thoughts to deal with - multiple identities, dangerous cryptography work, and oh, he didn't know, maybe the fact that all the other soldiers on the flight had murderous looks in their eyes?
Hideaki knew what they were thinking. Traitor. Scum. Jap. He averted the intense gazes and tried to find a comfortable seated position. Were the shape of his eyes and the color of his skin really enough to foster the stale sense of hatred in the air? If he were dressed in his true identity's garb, would they be more receptive (if only for sexual reasons)?
Fighting to keep hot tears in his eyes, Hideaki fiddled with his pack, busying herself with the straps and ensuring the parachute was prepared for use. Crying now, he knew, would be a dead giveaway that he wasn't who his chest tag said he was. Or rather - who she was.
As night fell around the plane and the other soldier's faces drifted to sleep one by one, Haruhi allowed herself to entertain her thoughts as herself, and not as her assigned military persona.
Haven't I proven myself through my diligence and dedication to my country? I wouldn't give America up for the world - but they still don't trust me.
This mission… Is it a death trap? Were they just trying to send back a potential threat? There's no way Naval Lt. Ootori won't see through this - he's known far and wide for his intelligence and scrutiny of detail.
I thought… I thought I could leave René-Tamaki without a backward glance. I knew that we'd become just intimate partners, that the love was turned to friendship, and nothing more.
But will I really be strong without him by my side?
Can I really do this?
Is it possi-
Haruhi's thoughts were broken by a sudden lurch of the plane. A little disoriented, she rubbed her eyes and surveyed the other soldiers, who appeared to have been jarred as well.
Haruhi herself wasn't particularly worried - turbulence was a normal thing, nothing to worry about - and with some time the lurching calmed.
But as the turbulence calmed, the other soldiers on the plane began to murmur amongst themselves. It made sense - quite a few planes had been lost flying across both the Pacific and Atlantic as of late. It was war - but not all of the missing planes had been accounted for, and not all of the disappearances had been resolved. Some were attacks, and some were mysteries.
Haruhi couldn't make out any of the whispers distinctly, but she could feel the burn of the others' suspicious gazes on her. She turned slightly, curling into a ball in a feeble effort to shield herself - but instead the stares simply bore into her back.
They couldn't really be suspecting her, could they?
Could they?
No. There's nothing to worry about. It's just some turbulence. Nobody thinks I tampered with anything just because I'm Japanese.
But the soldiers' paranoia was the first sign.
The flight was considerably long - the Pacific was not a small pond or a kiddy pool, but a massive stretch of water instead. With this in mind, everyone eventually lost interest (and waking consciousness) at some point in the flight...save for Hideaki.
No, he stayed alert. Not for his safety, per se, but he himself was a bundle of nerves even if his face did not show it. He watched over the flight, quietly pondering his not-so-distant future and his mission, experiencing the pockets of mild turbulence and stretches of calm.
The other soldiers drifted in and out of their uncomfortable slumbers, and Hideaki knew that their waking moments were peppered with wary glances directed his way. Still - nobody had made a move, and they seemed to feel safe enough. There was nothing he could do but ignore their mild transgressions.
"Alrighty, men - please be alerted that we will be nearing our destination Kakunoshima, where you will land after parachuting from the hold. Assistance will be on standby to help you all navigate to Tokyo under favorable conditions and hidden by our friends. Thank you for your service to the nation and to the Allied Powers."
The loud PA system in the aircraft woke all of the soldiers, and they begrudgingly began to prepare for their parachute landings. For a few brief minutes, the only sounds were the wind howling outside the plane, the snapping of clasps and buckles, and the pilot's verbal record of their descent.
"25,000 feet above ground level."
"22,000 feet above ground level."
The soldiers' ideal drop level was around 16,000 feet above ground level - only minutes away. The plane's hatch opened, and the soldiers lined up for their jump.
"20,000 FEET ABOVE GROUND LEVEL." The pilot roared out the altitude, so to be heard above the engines.
"WE ARE NOW BEGINNING OUR DESCENT INTO APPROPRIATE JUMPING ALTI-" A horrible scratching noise came through the PA system, and the plane shook violently. The soldiers were far enough back in the hold that they all stayed in the craft, hanging into the side of the plane for dear life.
A loud, screeching noise came from one side of the plain, and dismembered voices came through the PA system. "THE ENGINE?" "-MALFUNCTION-" "SERVICE CREW-" "-THE JUMPERS-"
"What th—hell? Don't—l- me our engine's-blown!" The soldiers began clamoring amongst themselves, their voices rising in worry. Some tried to scream their questions up towards the cockpit, but they knew they couldn't be heard.
"IS IT THE JAP?" One particularly burly soldier towards the front of the line roared.
"COULD BE - I DON'T TRUST HIM," hollered another, and the rest turned hysteric gazes upon Hideaki.
"I HAVEN'T MOVED FROM MY SEAT THE ENTIRE FLIGHT!" Hideaki screamed internally. IT HAS TO BE SOMEONE ELSE!
"IT'S HIM, IT HAS TO BE-" More yelling, more suspicion, more panic.
"WHY'D THEY LET HIM ON THIS PLANE?!"
"OH, MY GO-"
The plane shook even more, and soldiers were visibly losing their grips on the handhold.
"WE GOTTA JUST JUMP, THERE'S NO WAY-"
"CAN WE? WE'RE GONNA DIE-"
The pilot's voice came on again, eerily shaky and barely heard above the engines.
"EVERYONE STAY CALM -" Radio buzzing. "DO NOT PANIC -" More buzzing. "17,000 FEET ABOVE GROUND LEVEL-"
The soldiers took that as a good enough cue - 18,000 feet was still within reasonable jumping height, although 12,500-16,000 was ideal. They didn't have time if they wanted to make it out alive and not be discovered among a plane's twisted metal wreckage. Some sort of focused, military calm overtook them one by one as they jumped out into the Pacific air - but the fear in their eyes was apparent.
Hideaki was the last, and as the man before him jumped, the plane suddenly dropped lower. On land, it would have felt like a 10-feet distance, but in the air (and judging by the lurch in his stomach), Hideaki knew it was closer to 50 feet.
Haruhi screamed, utterly terrified and lost - and most importantly, alone. The metal of the plane shook beneath her boots and the thin metal separating her and the air was no source of comfort. Her mission be damned, she needed to make it out alive, and the time was now or never.
One hand clutching the top side of the small plane and the other white-knuckled around the straps of her pack, Haruhi jumped.
You said you would always be there for me. Where are you?
Tamaki!
I'm frightened! You haven't kept your promise!
Later, she remembered little from her jump - but the image of the plane spiraling down to earth leaving trails of billowing smoke was etched into her retinas. She didn't dare look anywhere but the island she needed to land on, but as her parachute billowed open and the island softly grew larger, she allowed herself to succumb to the panic and fear, and to let consciousness slip away.
Research Notes: The island near Japan is fictional! While I'm trying my hardest to retain historical accuracy (and have made major updates to my fic in this respect), I did start writing this fic in early high school and wasn't as well researched then.
This chapter was initially intended to take place in early 1942, shortly after Pearl Harbor - but timelinewise, it makes no sense to have the Allied forces that close to Japan that early on in WW2 (the Leapfrogging/Island Hopping strategy that would get them that close to Japan geographically was not implemented until AFTER the Battle of Midway, which occured in June 1942). As such, the Allies would have only gotten that close to Japan closer towards the end of the war, which - as you know - culminated in Hiroshima/Nagasaki.
Apologies for the inaccuracies! I would typically try to fix them but it's tiring to rewrite the full chapter every time I find a historical error, so please stretch your imagination with me and know that I DID do my research! (cries)
Author's Note: This chapter was previously part of the original chapter 2. Hope you enjoyed chapter three, please continue to read and review! The reviews are a great motivation to continue writing as feverishly.