Chapter 37: Chapter 37

Kazuya’s arm is cut and he’s starting to falter, but he’s hell-bent on carrying Haruhiko in. I’m at his and Sanoske’s side in a heartbeat.

The rest of the Kagegun guys are right there with me. Their war stories have quieted, replaced by a shared worry for Haruhiko.

“I can help,” I offer, gently prying Kazuya’s arm from Haruhiko. He looks at me, surprised, but doesn’t resist. His hair is a mess, hanging in his eyes, and dried blood stains his neck.

I slip my arm around Haruhiko’s waist. He leans into me, his warm blood seeping into my clothes. Sanoske avoids my gaze as we make our way to the medical wing, the rest of the Kagegun soldiers trailing behind us.

The army’s infirmary is spacious, with a low, earthy ceiling. It’s crowded with soldiers right now. I hadn’t realized how many of our guys were injured. But now, the blood trails leading to the room are impossible to ignore.

The room is filled with the sounds of men’s screams and grunts of pain. Some soldiers are writhing on their cots, others lie still while medics work frantically to stop their bleeding.

Nurses are scattering dirt on the floor, trying to soak up the blood that’s pooling there.

Sanoske and I guide Haruhiko to an empty cot tucked in the corner of the room. All the Kagegun guys have some medical training, but Takeshi is our go-to medic.

He jumps into action, pulling Haruhiko’s shirt off to expose his wound. There’s a long, deep gash on his chest. He’s got a cut on his head too, the blood from it has stained his face.

Takeshi applies an antiseptic to Haruhiko’s gash. His body jerks in response, his eyes fly open, and he lets out a scream that chills my blood.

Sanoske grabs his arms, holding him down as he starts to thrash. His blood seeps into the cot and pools on the floor. The smell of it is overwhelming.

I remember that smell, I remember seeing that much blood. It makes my head spin. I find myself leaning against the wall behind me, my breath coming out in ragged gasps.

I watch Haruhiko struggle against Sanoske’s grip. Tears carve a path through the blood and ash on his face. His eyes are bloodshot. He blinks rapidly, then I know he sees me.

He whimpers, his hand reaching out for me. I rush to him, taking his hand. It’s sticky with blood.

Takeshi looks at me, surprised. He’s cleaning Haruhiko’s wound. I grab a cloth and start wiping the blood, mud, and tears from Haruhiko’s face.

I can feel his skin growing colder. His eyelids start to flutter and his body goes still under Takeshi’s touch. Tears start streaming down my face.

“Alex, you need to leave,” Sanoske says from behind me.

He’s covered in blood and ash. His muscles are tense, his eyes wide as he looks at me.

My tears come faster, and I turn away from him, pressing my face into Haruhiko’s shoulder.

The screams in the room echo in my head. I see young Resistant soldiers being carried out of the room, wrapped in blankets. There’s no room for the dead here.

“Alex!” Sanoske’s voice breaks through my thoughts as he shakes my shoulder. My head spins as he pulls me to my feet, but I can barely stand. I look past him at Haruhiko. He’s still now.

“Saito, get her out of here,” Sanoske orders, handing me off to Saito.

The big soldier wraps his arm around my shoulders and lifts me gently, cradling me against his chest. As we leave, I see Jun, Masaru, and Sakurako helping the other medics while Akira tends to Kazuya’s wounds.

Kazuya’s eyes meet mine as we pass, and they widen. Saito carries me down the tunnel and into the soldiers’ dorm. It’s my first time inside.

The Kagegun guys sleep in the back of the dorm. Their beds are slightly separate from the others. Saito sets me down on one of the beds gently.

The dorm is empty except for us. I curl up on the bed, and he sits down next to me quietly. His body is still tense; I can see his muscles straining. He stares blankly at the floor in front of him.

We sit in silence for a long time. I cry into the sheets, and he just listens. Eventually, I sit up again. He looks at me and gives me a small smile. I manage to smile back.

“Where did you learn to shoot like that? The bow?” he asks me softly.

“At school,” I answer just as softly. “It was considered a sport. An old sport, more of a distraction really. It was very popular in Sector 1 before it was destroyed.

“I never knew it was a weapon. I just thought it was a game, a competition, not a weapon. I only understood that when I saw it hanging on the wall here.”

I shake my head slightly. “Ignorance. That’s how the Masters control us. We know nothing. I’m an expert archer, but I didn’t even know it was a weapon.”

“It isn’t used as one anymore. That’s why it’s never used in the training room. It’s not fast enough, and it’s easy to run out of arrows. Machine guns kill more and a lot quicker,” Saito murmurs.

I look at him. “How did you get so good? At fighting?” I ask him. “Didn’t you grow up on a farm?”

He looks at me with a hint of a smile and nods once.

“My mother died when I was very young, so my father raised me,” he begins. “He was very old-fashioned. He used to tell me about samurais. Ancient warriors were respected. They protected people, and they were great fighters.

“My dad used to say the same thing. When I was a kid, he gave me a wakizashi.” Saito pulls out one of his swords. It’s been polished and it shines in the dim light.

“It’s a shorter sword, not as long as Sanoske’s. He uses a katana. The wakizashi was once owned by a samurai, my dad told me. He gave it to me so that one day I could use it to protect my country and the people I care about.

“He wanted to get me a katana. It’s the weapon of choice for a samurai, but they were hard to come by and too pricey for us.

“But he managed to get me another wakizashi. By that time, I was already a decent fighter, so it was a good investment.” He gives a casual shrug. “So I kept training and learned to use both swords at the same time.”

He slides his sword back into its sheath. I’m staring at him, eyes wide.

“When did your father pass away?”

“Ages ago. I sold the farm after he passed. It didn’t mean anything to me. I was never cut out to be a farmer, so I joined the army. To fight and defend my country. Now, I’d give anything to go back to that farm.”

He lowers his head, running his fingers through his dark hair. I watch him, then reach out and touch his shoulder.

He turns to look at me, his eyes wide. He places his hand over mine, holding it there. His eyes scan my face.

“Alex, it haunts me now,” he murmurs.

I look at him, taking deep, steady breaths. He mirrors my breathing.

“I used to be able to fight and kill, and I didn’t feel like this. But it’s been so long. I’ve won every fight, I’ve killed every man I’ve fought. I never thought about them before. About who they were…” His voice trails off.

“That’s what scares me,” I whisper. “All those young men dying silently on a scorched field, or falling from a burning plane. They die and no one notices. Perfect men, Perfect soldiers.

“We barely have names, let alone a meaningful life. Our lives are all the same. We are all the same. But we are individuals, so each Perfect dies and no one really knows who he was,” I say.

Saito stares at his hands. His body is completely still. “Do you think I deserve to die?” he asks me softly.

“Why would you deserve to die?”

He glances at me briefly. “Because I’ve killed so many people.”

“This is war,” I say quietly. “It has been for a long time now. You’re a soldier, Saito. You don’t deserve to die.”

He shakes his head slowly.

“I don’t want to be here much longer,” he whispers. “I have no hope for a life after this place. How could I live after seeing everything I’ve seen? After doing so much?

“I want to die soon, but with honor. Seppuku.”

“Seppuku?”

He gives me a small smile.

“It’s how the samurai committed suicide. They would cut open their stomachs. It’s considered an honorable way to die. One day, when I’m caught or when I’ve failed my brothers, I will commit seppuku,” he tells me.

I stare at him, eyes wide. “That sounds awful,” I whisper.

He shrugs. “The samurai’s wives would commit suicide too. It’s honorable. If he commits seppuku or if her death or rape is imminent. It’s called ‘jigai.’

“They would tie their knees together so their bodies would be found in a dignified position. Then they slit their throats.”

He gives me a small smile. “You never know when you might need information like that.” He chuckles darkly and pulls his hand away from mine.

“I guess. It just shows that humans have always been destructive and desperation has always existed.” I let out a breath.

Saito nods in agreement. “The captain…” He pauses. “He’s like a samurai. He and Kazuya learned from an old master like me. But I don’t think he cares about dying with honor.”

“Kazuya said something to me once.” I take a breath. “That Sanoske is just waiting for death. That he has no ambitions in life anymore.”

Saito raises an eyebrow. “I’ve always known him like that,” he answers in a curt voice. “He’s always been a dying man to me. But these days, he seems to be coming back to life.”

I look at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

He gives me a small smile.

“Do you know why he calls you a Perfect all the time, why he gets so mad at you? Because he never gets mad at anyone else but Kazuya. He isn’t reminding you who you are, what you are. He’s reminding himself.”

I feel my heart beat a little faster. I stare at Saito, wide-eyed.

“Reminding himself because he doesn’t want to get close to a Perfect?” I whisper.

Saito shrugs, then nods once. “That’s what I think,” he says.

I stand up quickly, wiping the last tears from my face. I realize my hands and clothes are still covered in blood.

“You should clean up. Me too,” Saito says, standing as well.

I nod in agreement.

“And, Alex? Don’t worry about Haruhiko. He’s a tough kid.” He smiles at me.