Their walk had led them into the courtyard, their steps slow and easy. 

    “Tell me about your family.” She asked softly, enjoying the feel of his arm against her cheek. 

    “Anything specific you want to know?” 

    “Hmmm…” She balled up her lips in thought. 

    “Do you have siblings?” 

    “A younger sister.” Her mouth formed a surprised ‘O’. 

    “Her name was Mitsuko.”

    “Was?” He was quiet for a while and she glanced up at him, thoughts of pushing him too far past his comfort limit in her mind. He sighed finally before answering.

    “She was hit by a streetcar.” 

    “Oh…I’m… I’m sorry…”

    “It happened when we were young.” He dismissed and she nibbled her lip some. 

    “I was born in Kurashiki, a small merchant village. It used to be the main rice supplier back in the 1600s up until 1860s. Most of life hasn’t changed since then.” She listened as they strolled, the soft trickling of the fountains supplying a peaceful atmosphere.

    “My country has a long history of civil war, militarism, and brutality. For nearly 400 years, it is all we have known.” Letting that sink in, she slipped her hand down to his, grasping his fingers. The action made him look down and she could feel his eyes boring holes into her but she kept her gaze elsewhere. He spoke again, fingers tightening on hers. 

    “My father was born and raised in Kurashiki as well in a period called Edo. Not far removed from the struggle of the previous generations of war, famine, and poverty. He grew up in a time when our country was attempting peace within its own borders.” 

    “Hm.”

    “He was very proud to be Japanese. Very proud of our land… our way. He raised me to be the same.”

    “I suppose it’s no different from Americans being proud to be American.” She commented, smiling up at him. He didn’t return her smile but his expression was receptive to her words. 

    “He died when I was eight years old. His vast military influence and prestige encouraged me to follow in his footsteps.” They came to a stop, now under a black starless sky. Chinese lanterns had been lit and they cast a soft dreamy glow upon him. In the low light, he looked striking and mellow. The gin had also relaxed him and encouraged him to open up. Looking up at the sky, she caught a glimpse of a smile… a little one that tugged the corner of his mouth. 

    “At home, there is an old canal…from a time before mine and even my parents. When I was a child, I would chase Mitsuko on the bridge. My mother would always be so worried,” His voice had softened slightly as he allowed the memory to caress his mind. 

    “Rolling hills and mountains that seem to touch the sky. Lush fertile earth and peaceful quiet streams and seas. Modest, laidback people with a passionate spirit who work hard. That’s Kurashiki. That’s Japan.”

    “Sounds beautiful,”

    “We aren’t too different.” He said, eyes drifting down to hers now.  

    “And here I thought you were born a monster.” She pulled her hands away and hugged them behind her back, walking off now a bit ahead of him. 

    “Monsters are made. Not born, Beatrice.” She kept walking, her feet leading her nowhere in particular. 

    “The big bad wolf has a heart. Who would have thought?” Stopping, she turned to see him standing behind her, hands in his pockets.     

    “Your father. Do you miss him?” He dropped his gaze and at that moment, he appeared so tragically human it made her heart break. His whole world had crumbled to pieces when his father had died… just like hers did. She imagined for him, it was harder being that he was a boy. Men needed their fathers in more ways than one. Mothers could raise them, but it was not her place or in her ability to teach, guide, and show them how to be a man. 

    “I miss my daddy too. Joe tried to become the father that we both were robbed of. I miss them both so much.”

    “Your brother. My sincerest apologies.” She drew nearer, pressing a gentle hand against his chest. 

    “It’s been easy to put you in the same place as all the others who are from where you are. It’s been easy to say that you’re all bastards and deserve to go to hell. But,” She laid her cheek now against the place where her hand had once been. 

    “I’ve… I’ve been wrong. I think I understand your heart better now.” She heard him swallow and his arms lifted up to close around her. 

    “You’re chilled.” He observed, voice quiet and raspy. 

    “You’re keeping me plenty warm.” She said, lifting her head.  Lifting a hand from her back, he reached for her chin, his touch was surprisingly tender and light. Pulling her upward, their lips locked in a tender salutation. There was that sound again…it was quiet and sweet as it left her throat, a tiny testament of pleasure. His hand slipped down from her chin and down around her waist, pulling her flush against him. 

    She wasn’t aware that they were moving, his legs leading them back… back until she pressed against a wall of ivy and stone. Lips separating, they pressed their foreheads against each other, breathing, hands and arms flush with heat. She was utterly breathless, caught in the middle of absurdity and incoherency as he pressed tiny little kisses against her neck; soft smooth lips sucked skin and his teeth sank into flesh. At the soft hum that vibrated against him, he let go of the once unmarked skin. 

    His hands carefully explored her body, following the bends, arches, and twists of her curves. His touch was contemplative and intentional as they roamed her, his fingers arousing a titillating hunger and thirst inside of her. Their lips met again, a passionate mess of soft gliding lips and warm wet tongue. His fingers continued their search, taking bits and pieces of her dress in their captivity along the way. At last, they seemed to find what they were looking for.

Taking hold of her thighs, he lifted her up into his arms with ease, her legs enclosing him ever-so-slightly. In the distance, a newer, wilder kind of jazz played and it matched the energy almost perfectly. Her body began to tremble both with fear and delight and as his lips kissed and his tongue tasted, she tried to make sense of the way her body was reacting. Her skin was now extremely sensitive and her heart pounded loudly in her ears. She felt lightheaded and disoriented… her thoughts a jumbled heap. Every part of her had awakened to the experience and it puzzled her. The nipples on her breasts were stiff and between her legs, she felt as though she had peed herself when she knew she hadn’t. It was strange what was happening to her. 

    She wanted his lips. His hands. Fingers. She wanted his tongue and teeth… she wanted his breath and warmth…. she wanted every bit and piece of him to mold, shape, and form her into nothingness and into everything. But then again… she didn’t…. she was afraid of the want… the incessant need that built up every time he looked at her…every time he touched her. She was so afraid of what would happen should he take her into his hands and crush her. 

    She’d begun to pant against him as his hands slipped further up under her dress, closer to where the need radiated. 

    “Ichiro…” His voice vibrated a response against her in a quiet hum. So close now, she couldn’t handle it…Digging her nails into his wrists, she brought his hands to an abrupt halt. The action made him grow still and her heavy panicked breaths drew his gaze. She could barely speak, gasping for air, nails impaling his flesh so hard it stung. 

    “Beatrice,” He called, making her disorganized eyes find his. 

    “I…I’m not ready…” Her voice now was small and broken and he inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly as he pressed his forehead against hers. He placed her feet back onto the ground. Taking his hands away from her, he cleared his throat. She seemed to calm down some and he offered a little smile. 

    “I think now is an appropriate time to blow out a candle to celebrate your birthday. Hm?” Taking a shaky breath, she nodded. 

    “Sounds nice.”

*** 

    Jazz, cigarettes and ice cream carried us late into the night and by the time we returned to base, she’d fallen asleep on my lap. Her breath was light and relaxed and her face soft and serene. She looked like an angel. While she rested, my mind was all over the place. Reeling from her rejection, I couldn’t help but reflect on her jarring response. Like a deer in headlights, in that moment she had been transported to another place. A place where she walked with her pain, lived with her pain and was reminded of it at every turn. 

    I was silent as I lifted her up into my arms, walking the short distance to the barracks. With the car now driving away, I opened the door and flicked on the light, taking step by step before reaching our quarters. Stepping inside, I headed towards her bed and lowered her down upon it to lay. 

    Wordless, I went to lock the door. Sighing heavily, I took off my cap and removed my uniform coat. Hanging it up, I glanced back at her as I began to unbutton my shirt. She slept deeply now and one of her heels dangled off of her feet. I figured it wouldn’t be proper to undress her so I left her as she was, save for removing her heels. Climbing into bed, I turned away from her and stared at the wall. I couldn’t allow myself to dwell there for long… on my own misdeeds. When this fucking war was over... then perhaps it would be time. Until then, I had to remain a soldier. 

*** 

    It was strange. This feeling. He didn’t know what had caused it. Perhaps it was the connection and history he previously had with Asami. Perhaps it was the inward desire to understand the man he’d feared for so long. As he stood outside of the Matsuda house, pulling his pockets nearly to shreds, he made a decision. Lifting his fist, he knocked on the door. After a little while, he could see Meredith through the door’s sheer set of window treatments. Opening the door, the young woman didn’t hide her shock at seeing him. 

    “Mr. Ito? What are you doing here? You aren’t scheduled today.” Swallowing sand, he took a breath. 

    “Is Ms. Asami home?” Shaking her head no, his heart began to pound. 

    “She left out earlier this morning.” He wanted to run but stayed put. 

    “May I come inside?” Blinking, she stepped aside, allowing him to enter. 

    “Um… Mr. Matsuda…” His throat grew tight. 

    “I’ll make you some coffee.”

    “Thanks Mere.”

    “Yeah, sure.” She said with a friendly smile, leaving him in the foyer. Alright, you son of a bitch. Don’t back out now.Said in Matsuda’s rough voice in his mind, he pulled his hands up into fists and headed towards the office. 

*** 

    Groans of pain filled the ward and nurses rushed to and fro, carrying tools and other items for wound care. In the time that she’d been there, she’d come in contact with a lot of different people. All walks of life existed and dwelled in the infirmary. It fascinated, horrified and excited her. The infirmary was run by a few captured sisters of a British Nunnery, all who had extensive knowledge of medicine. As they ran here and there over to the wounded, she stood by the door. She’d taken to standing there, waiting to be included. 

    “You, Negro. What business do you have here?” A Japanese soldier demanded, approaching her with his rifle. Instantly, a bad taste was left in her mouth and she didn’t answer, simply glaring at him. 

    “The girl is with me, sir.” A stern faced white woman announced with a humble bow of her head. His eyes rested on her a little longer. 

    “I’m teaching her how to fetch water. For the wounded.” She continued in near perfect Japanese, carefully approaching the two of them. He finally turned his gaze onto the woman and stared at her. Dressed in sterile white, already her dress was stained with specks of blood and other bodily fluids. Hair uncovered from a veil, it was bare and pulled up in a high bun, her attempt at trying to maintain order and neatness. Without another word, he slowly backed away, a breath of relief forming in the throat of the nun. 

    “You’re Beatrice, right?”

    “Yes, ma’am.”

    “No ma’am. Margie.” She swallowed. 

    “Margie…” Smiling, she cleared her throat. 

    “I’ve seen you here over the past week or so.”

    “Being here gives me a chance to feel free for a little while.”

    “Your guardian is First Lt. Matsuda. Right?” At that, she was unresponsive, watching the woman lean down to assess a patient. 

    “I’ve seen you two together.” 

    “We’re supposed to be together. I’m his sex slave.” Pressing on one of the man’s legs, she frowned at deep fingerprint impressions. 

    “Edema…” Turning her head, she beckoned another nun, younger and fresh-faced. 

    “Sister Catherine, please fetch the Head Nurse.” The rosy cheeks of the pretty woman instantly lost color. 

    “At once, Sister Margaret.” Standing, she tsked under her breath and they continued to walk, filing down the rows of beds, filled with crying weeping and moaning men. 

    “I may be a nun, but I’m far from a fool.” She said, dropping a brief hand against the forehead of one. Fever. 

    “You’re a smart girl, Beatrice. Sometimes, we must use what God blessed us with in dire situations.” 

    “If you had to, would you?” She asked, watching the woman say a prayer under her breath. 

    “Since it has come down to life and death more times than I’d like, yes. I have.” The simple admission from a nun, no less, surprised her and her eyes grew wide. 

    “I’ve wrestled with myself each and every time, Beatrice.”

    “Bea,” Smiling at her, she gave a nod. 

    “Bea.”  

    “Sister Margaret! Please come this way!” Their conversation was cut short and the two of them rushed towards the gathering of nurses. 

*** 

    Sweat dribbled down his back and his flesh, in the midday heat was starting to turn a nice tanned shade. Inhaling deeply through his nostrils, he hoisted himself up to the top of the bar, biceps bulging with strain. Letting the tension leave his body, he relaxed out of the rep and pressed his weight onto his foot. He was trying to stand upright more without the use of his crutch or prosthesis. Proud of his determination, he was starting to improve with consistency. 

    “Matsuda,” Turning, he found newly promoted Major Onada standing behind him. At once, he saluted. 

    “Sir.” 

    “At ease.” He moved not, tightly holding his arms behind his back. 

    “Impressive.” Looking up at the high bars, he raised his eyebrows. 

    “Your mental tenacity is staggering.”

    “I am honored by the compliment, sir.” With a nod, he turned stern eyes onto him. 

    “You’ve done well training the cadets. I’m even more impressed by your leadership and your grit.” He bowed his head in respect.

    “What are your plans after the war?” His question brought his head up and he honestly couldn’t answer. He’d never thought about it… after the war. 

    “Haven’t thought about it?” 

    “No, sir. My thoughts are on the present.”

    “Understandable.” The man drew nearer and reached to grab his crutch. 

    “I suggest you begin to think about your activities after our victory, Matsuda.”

    “Sir?” The man looked deeply contemplative for a moment before unclenching his jaw. 

    “I, like you, have been humble in my military ascension. I have more than enough time, experience and qualifications to be Major General and yet I have remained a mere Captain. I haven’t complained as I’ve sat and watched entitled and less qualified men rise through the ranks; their seats bought with the money of their fathers, uncles and brothers. I’ve bided my time wisely.” He remained quiet as the man continued, 

    “What I have that they do not is this: direct access to the Emperor himself.” At that, his lips parted slightly, eyes widening just a tad. 

    “I haven’t made it a show of bragging. There have been enough jealous men in my career that have tried to sabotage and discredit me.” 

    “Sir…I-”

    “I’d like you to meet the Emperor and become a member of the Imperial Cabinet.” He was visibly taken aback and the muscles in his jaw clenched and unclenched. 

    “With all due respect, I’m not worthy of such a position, sir.” 

    “Says whom?” Me. 

    “I…”

    “You remind me of the son I’ve lost. Both of you passionate, hard-working and humble. Followed orders and led others well.” Lifting his hand, he pat his shoulder. 

    “Think about it is all I’m requesting.”

    “I shall, sir.”

    “Carry on, then.”

    “Yes, sir.” As he turned, he said one final thing in parting, 

    “It is not the leg that makes the man. It is the mind, heart and will. You’ve showed me this and you would do well to remember it.” 

*** 

    When I returned to our quarters, she was shaving her legs. Careful with the razor, she gently glided it down the flesh of her leg, leaving a smooth path in its wake. She had always been cognizant of our shared space and left little non-verbal clues to elude to her… female moments every month.  I did not understand them. Because of her sometimes highly emotional nature in these moments, I tended to stay out of her way. Tonight, the water, normally pulled in from the underground well and left for me should she bathe first had been drained. The tub was empty. It told me that she was experiencing her moment presently.

*** 

    Placing his cap on the back of the chair, he slipped fingers through hair now a little more than an inch long. It always grew fast. Going over to his bed, he sat and began to remove his boots.  He could feel her eyes on him but continued unlacing. Lifting the boot off of his foot, he removed the other from the prosthesis. The process then went to removing his uniform jacket and outer shirt. He’d save his pants for last just before removing the false limb and getting into the bath. That seemed to work for him…seemed to be how he expected his evening to go. But at her persistent staring, he knew something else was brewing. 

    “You could always speak instead of stare, Bea.” He exclaimed quietly with a tired little sigh. Lifting his eyes, he found hers dead on him, her fingers tightly clasped in her lap. 

    “Well, I like looking at you.” She replied, tease in her voice. The corner of his mouth twitched in a smirk and he cleared his throat, pulling off his jacket. 

    “I trust you had a productive day.” 

    “I did.” 

    “Good.” She sighed and got up, slowly walking over to him. Lowering fingers, she began to unfasten the buttons to his shirt. 

    “How do you know?”

    “How do I know what?” Her fingers were slow and steady, calm. 

    “How do you know that I’m not intentionally trying to seduce you?” She unbuttoned the last button before he grabbed her by the arms. Forcing her down onto the bed, he hovered over her. Her eyes widened and her breath started elevating. 

    “That’s how I know.” He said with a soft rasp, taking in the rise and fall of her chest. 

    “You may entertain the thought of it but you aren’t prepared for the repercussions.” Getting up off of her, he continued as he was, pulling the shirt away from his skin. She laid there for a while, just observing him before she slowly sat up. 

    “I’ve already suffered the consequences for not being ready and didn’t like them.” Leaning over, she laid her chin atop his shoulder. 

    “Maybe I’ll like the consequences when I’m ready.” He didn’t respond, his lips forming a deeper smirk. 

    “I trust you had a productive day.” She mimicked his voice, biting her lip in a smile as he chuckled. 

    “I’ll start the water for you.” As she went to get up, he grabbed her hand. 

    “Out there, you know that we cannot be…like this.” She let him entwine their fingers. 

    “I’m well aware of that. Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it while I have it.” She replied, slipping away. She began to turn the lever, humming as fresh hot water began to pour in. 

    “I didn’t think you’d wait.” Her comment caught his attention and he began to stand. 

    “I thought that you’d be like the rest of them. I was so certain that you would make good on your promise and bruise, abuse and maim me until it satisfied you.” He was quiet as he approached, allowing her the opportunity to continue. 

    “I could see it in your eyes. You wanted to. But, you didn’t.”

    “I’ve told you why.” He replied, growing closer. 

    “I know.” He finally made it to her side and leaned back against it. Slowly, he unbuttoned his pants and let them fall to his feet. Stepping out of them, he reached down and unstrapped his artificial limb. She kept her eyes away as he pressed it against the tub. 

    “If your Captain told you to shoot me right now, would you do it?” 

    “If you had a knife to my throat again, would you kill me?” The silence now between them was deafening.  At last, his high waisted briefs pooled at his ankle. Stooping, he stepped out of them. Hopping up onto the edge, he climbed in. And like that, he disappeared under the water, ending the conversation.