Chapter 38: Chapter 38

I take a bath with the help of a few nurses, their hands stained with blood. After hanging my clothes out to dry, I head back to the army tunnel.

The main hall is a hive of activity as I pass through. The mayor and Roy are on the podium, the mayor’s wife and their younger children standing behind them.

Two men kneel before them. I recognize them as the ones who were on their knees before the battle. The third one, I overhear, didn’t survive his injuries.

They were on the front lines. The two remaining men are still covered in blood and ash. Their clothes are torn and matted, their blond hair hanging in their faces, their heads bowed.

Their bodies tremble. The mayor stands above them, his face red with anger. The Resistants shout their hatred, hurling rocks and dirt at the men.

“These men don’t deserve a trial!” the mayor yells, and the crowd roars in agreement.

“They’ve put us all in danger, caused our deaths!” he continues. “They led the enemy right to our doorstep!”

The crowd erupts in anger. The mayor raises his hands for silence, and they comply.

“These men will lose their Resistant title. They’re no longer free people, they’re slaves!”

The crowd cheers again. I see Roy nodding his agreement behind his father.

“I, Mayor Oscar Richardson, the eighth mayor of Resistance, sentence them to a life of servitude! They’ll serve us until they die. They won’t have the right to marry or have children.

“They won’t earn a salary. They’ll work for their right to live!” he bellows, his gaze fixed on the two men. They tremble under his stare.

“They’ll obey every order they’re given. They won’t harm any citizen, under penalty of death. They won’t speak unless spoken to. They won’t look us in the eye. They won’t touch us.

“They’ll do their duty, and that’s all!” Mayor Richardson shouts, and the crowd bursts into cheers.

Two Resistant soldiers grab the men and roughly pull them to their feet. They’re dragged through the crowd, pelted with stones and dirt.

As they pass me, one of them locks eyes with me, and I see his horror. They’re hauled toward the factories.

I watch them struggle as they’re dragged away. ~How is this any different from the workers?~ I shake my head, my heart pounding, and head to the army medical room.

It’s quiet inside. A few people sit by their sleeping soldiers, but all of the men have been treated and are now sleeping off their exhaustion. The lights are dimmed.

I walk over to Haruhiko, careful not to disturb any of the soldiers. He’s fast asleep, his mouth slightly open, snoring softly. I sit in the chair next to him and watch him.

He looks peaceful in sleep. I’ve always known him to be active, always moving. I’ve never seen him still. Asleep, I realize how young he is. Probably my age. Barely a man.

His cheeks and chin are smooth, his pink lips full and slightly puckered. Dark brows frame his small face.

I reach out and lightly run my fingers through his hair. He mumbles something but continues to sleep. I stroke his face softly. He giggles. The sound surprises me.

He giggles again. He sounds like a child, a happy child. I stare at him, wide-eyed.

“He never lets anyone touch his hair,” a deep voice murmurs.

I jump in surprise. Sanoske steps out of the shadows. He had been watching over Haruhiko. He moves toward us.

“And he giggles a lot when he sleeps. He’d be mortified if he knew.” Sanoske smiles slightly and sits across from me.

I continue to lightly stroke Haruhiko’s hair. “I never realized how young he was,” I murmur.

“He’s nineteen,” Sanoske replies, “but he doesn’t act it. How could he, after all he’s seen and done?”

I stare at Haruhiko’s face. “How did it happen?”

“An explosion. He was hit with shrapnel.”

Sanoske bows his head slightly. I look up at him.

“But he’ll get better soon?”

Sanoske nods once. “He’s a tough kid,” he says.

“Any Perfect survivors?”

He hesitates for a second, then shakes his head. I turn away from his gaze. Sanoske is quiet too. We sit there for a few long seconds. They seem to stretch into hours.

“How’s Kazuya?” I ask.

“He’ll heal.”

“Are you hurt?” I ask.

Sanoske looks at me in surprise, then quickly looks away.

“No, I’m fine,” he mutters.

I stare at him. He hasn’t washed yet. He’s still covered in blood. He’s been with Haruhiko this whole time.

His sword hangs from his hip. It’s been tied loosely since I broke the strap. He follows my gaze and then looks back at me. I look away from him.

“I should go wash,” he murmurs, stepping back.

I stand up quickly, facing him. “Sanoske,” I say. He looks at me. “I want you to reconsider. I want you to teach me how to fight.”

“I can’t do that.” He turns away from me.

“Sanoske.” I reach out and grab his arm.

His muscles tense. He stares ahead, away from me.

“I know you’ve suffered. A lot. And since you were very young. But it’s been long enough. It’s enough now. You’ve suffered enough. You can let her go now.”

His body is rigid. His jaw is clenched tightly, and I see his fingers are wrapped around the hilt of his sword.

“Let me go, Alex,” he says softly. His voice is cold.

“No, I won’t let you go. From now on, I’m staying by your side. I’m going to be here for you. I promise,” I answer.

He jerks away from me. “Get lost, Alex,” he spits out, then storms off.

I hurry after him, blocking his path. He halts, glaring down at me. “Move,” he grumbles.

“Sanoske, you know I’m right. You need to let her go!”

“I don’t need to do anything! Especially not what a Perfect tells me to do!” he retorts, gripping my shoulder and shoving me against the wall. He strides out of the room and into the tunnel.

Ignoring the dull ache in my back, I chase after him. He’s a fast walker.

“You’re right! That’s what I am!” I shout after him.

He quickens his pace. I sprint after him, grabbing his hand and spinning him around to face me. He yanks his hand away, but I grab it again, pulling him towards me.

He glares down at me. His muscles are rigid, his body shaking with anger. “Alex,” he growls. “Leave me alone!”

“You keep throwing in my face that I’m a Perfect!” I snap back. “And you’re right. I am a Perfect! I’m Alexandra 958,687,487.64.4.2.1. My mother was also named Alexandra, and I have seven brothers.

“But as far as I know, they’re all dead. Maybe some of them were just slaughtered in a tunnel above us. That’s who I am. A mother of Albion. And since I was a kid, I’ve sworn to protect Albion and to serve Albion.

“And I did. I did the best I could. But I failed, didn’t I? I might be a Perfect, but I’m a failed Perfect.

“And you, you’re so different from me. You had a family, with brothers and sisters and a mother. And you watched them die one by one.

“And you had Mei, and you loved her, and she was going to be the mother of your child. And I still can’t grasp that kind of love between two people! It’s a concept I still can’t fully understand.

“And I know you hate Perfects. I know you hate them with every fiber of your being because I know you’ve pushed away every other emotion, but you’ve held onto hate.

“I know you’re focused on one path. You’re a soldier, and you act entirely like a soldier. Because that’s all you have left.

“And you think I can’t understand. You keep reminding me that I’m a Perfect, that I’m a heartless machine that produces babies! But we both know that’s not true.

“Just like I know it’s not true that you’re emotionless, that you have no weaknesses. Because you do, Sanoske. And you showed me the first time we met. You saved me!”

I’m rambling. The words are spilling out of me.

Sanoske jerks away from me again and stares at me. My heart is pounding in my chest. I stare back at him, panting. His jaw is clenched tight.

“You don’t know anything about me,” he grumbles.

“How dare you say that to me! We’ve both seen our loved ones die, and we’ve both failed to protect them. And we’ve both lost them. I’ve lost everything too! I know who you are!”

“No!”

He steps toward me, lowering his head and glaring at me. I step back.

“That’s where you’re wrong. Because you were born with nothing to begin with!” he snarls.

Tears sting my eyes. I look up at him.

“Maybe I was born with nothing, and I have nothing now. But I did have something. I had a daughter. And she was mine. And I had friends. And I lost them both,” I insist.

He steps back from me, still glaring. I step toward him.

“There’s more to life than fighting, Sanoske,” I tell him. “You knew that once. You believed in that. There’s a power out there. Hope. And you lost it. And when you lose hope, you lose everything.

“I lost hope once. I saw no future for me, and I found myself in the kitchen eyeing the knives, wondering if it would hurt more to slit my wrist or stab my heart.

“Then I locked myself in my room and didn’t talk to anyone. But Beth brought me back from that. When I had her, I had something to live for. When she was taken from me, I thought I was going to die.

“Sanoske, hope is the one thing they can’t take away from you. And if you have hope, then…” I trail off as he leans against the side of the tunnel. He looks at me with hooded eyes.

“Hope?” He shakes his head. “That’s just a fantasy. It’s a fairytale. Hope has never stopped anyone from dying. Hope has never brought anyone back to life! Hope means nothing!” he growls.

“Hope is all we have!” I retort. “They’ve taken everything else from us, and you’ve let them take all the hope you ever had for a life and a family.”

I pause, then whisper, “Mei wasn’t the only one who could give you a future.”

He looks away from me.

“This is war, Alex. All those men down there, dying slowly, all those Perfects I chopped up and burned above us. Isn’t that enough to convince you that there is no hope?

“You can’t develop feelings during a war. It only kills you.” Sanoske turns away from me and starts walking again.

I feel my heart burning in my chest. It’s almost suffocating. I quickly wipe the tears off my cheeks and march after him.

“When you’re a Perfect, you have no identity,” I tell him quickly. “You give yourself entirely to your nation, and you promise to protect your nation and you promise to die for your nation.

“You don’t have a say in whether you fight or not. You don’t get to decide what you do with your life. We’re born with a single purpose. Just like soldiers.

“Once you don the uniform, once you become the captain, you lose the right to choose. Your life isn’t yours anymore. No one wants to fight. But we don’t have a choice, Sanoske.”

I look up at him. He smirks at me, a cruel twist of his lips.

“Being a soldier is nothing like being a Perfect,” he sneers at me. “Go back to Roy, Alex.”

He starts to walk away from me again.

“I don’t want to be there,” I call after him, my voice shaky. “I want to be with you!”

I run to catch up with him again. “I see it now, how nowhere is safe. And for a while, I forgot that you made me feel safe. I’d never felt that way before! But now I can see it again.

“Resistance isn’t safe. Nowhere is safe. So I don’t have time for Roy or his parents’ insulting negotiations! I know what I want!”

“You have no idea what you’re asking for!” he growls at me, quickening his pace.

“What more can I do?” I ask.

He stops, and I almost collide with him. I hear him sigh. He keeps his back to me.

“Leave me alone, Alex.”

“But you’re so lonely already,” I whisper. “Why are you torturing yourself like this? You don’t have to be lonely. You made a mistake, but you don’t deserve to suffer for this long!”

“You don’t know what I deserve!” he growls at me.

I lunge forward and wrap my arms around his waist. His muscles tense at my touch, and his breath hitches. I bury my face against his back, and I can feel his heart pounding.

“Leave me alone,” he whispers.

“I can’t. It’s too late for that now.”

His hands grab mine, and he rips my hands off of him and pushes me back roughly. I slam against the side of the tunnel. He hesitates for a second, then walks off without another word.

“Don’t be so afraid!” I call after him, ignoring the pain in the back of my head. My heart aches so much more.

“I know you’re not afraid of death, of dying. I know that’s what you’re waiting for because you’re afraid of getting hurt!

“You don’t want to open yourself up to anyone else because you’re afraid they will get hurt and you won’t be able to save them and that you will end up hurt!”

He continues to walk away, but I can’t stop. “That’s just selfish!” I yell. “You’re just thinking about yourself! You selfish Foreigner!”

He turns suddenly and marches back to me, three strides eliminating the space between us.

His face is twisted into a mask of rage. He grabs my wrist, hard, his fingers digging into my skin. He pulls me against his body suddenly, roughly.

Then his lips are on mine. He forces my mouth open, and I feel his tongue thrusting inside my mouth. His other hand wraps around my waist and holds me against him. His kiss deepens, hardens.

I struggle and push him off of me. He steps back from me, smirking. I stare at him in horror, my chest heaving for breath. He wipes his lips with the back of his hand, then lunges at me again.

This time he grabs both my wrists and slams me against the side of the tunnel, holding my arms above my head. His lips crash down on mine again, harder than before. The side of the tunnel digs into my back painfully.

His face is pushed against mine, and his eyes are shut. His lips move roughly against mine, forcing my mouth open, pulling at my lower lip with his teeth.

He lets my wrist go. He runs his fingers through my hair, tugging it and pulling my head up to his.

His other hand moves down my body, roughly feeling my breast and then between my legs.

Tears race down my cheeks and into my mouth. I know he can taste them, but he ignores them and presses me harder against the side of the tunnel.

I push him back with my hands, but he’s stronger and my struggles are fruitless. His hand feels its way back up my body. His lips are hard.

I bite down on his tongue, and I feel his body convulse with the sudden pain. But somehow that doesn’t stop him. He presses himself harder against me.

He pulls my hair back and keeps pinning me against the wall with his body, pressing his lips to mine.

His body moves against me, his lips trying to force a reaction out of mine. Searching for something. Warning me.

He stops suddenly and leans his head away from mine. My tears stream down my cheeks, and my breath hitches. He steps back from me, freeing me from the wall.

I bow my head, my chest heaving, my heart burning. Sanoske hovers in front of me, then reaches out for me slowly. I bat his hand away and glare up at him through my tears.

He reaches for me again. I move to slap him, but he catches my wrist. I stare at him in horror. He smirks at me. It feels like I’ve been slapped, like he’s stabbed my heart over and over again.

He lets my wrist go and steps back from me. He turns quickly and stalks off. I watch him disappear down the tunnel, then slump down, hugging my knees to my chest to cry.

I pull back my sleeves and stare down at the red finger marks on my wrists.

“That hurt, damn it,” I whisper.