1943. Shanghai. A soldier of the Japanese Army happens by a club one night purely out of boredom. What he expects to find are uncouth drunks. He actually meets a beautiful African-American performer by the name of Beatrice. Throughout the next three...
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thirteen
juusan
*GRAPHIC DEPICTION OF BATTLE*
"How is he doing? Is he being nice today?" Glancing up, he felt his cheeks grow warm at the sight of Ms. Asami standing next to him. How hadn't he heard her come in? Clearing his throat, his eyes drifted past the extensive trees on their property, some of them already starting to turn the colors of autumn. Quite early yet, as it was still summer.
"He's being kinder today, yes. If that is even a thing." Asami laughed and leaned against the balcony.
"He's been really really under the weather lately." Yeah, no surprise there. After everything he was going through, he thought it was more than normal at this point.
"I appreciate you for seeing him, Takeru." At the sound of his first name, his blush deepened.
"It's...it's nothing 'Sami." Smiling, she shoulder-bumped him.
"I told you he likes you."
"Bullshit. The man scares me." At that, she began to laugh, the sound of it making him smile.
"I've put Grandpa to bed for a nap which, surprisingly, he did not object to. You know how hard it is for him to sleep."
"Hm."
"After a couple of Ambien, he's sleeping like a baby." Turning to lift those pretty eyes of hers up towards him, she smiled again, her trademark dimples peeking out.
"Come join Mere and me for lunch."
"I...I don't think that's...appropriate." Pursing her lips, she crossed her arms.
"Don't act brand new."
"I'm not. It's just...I do have a job to keep you know."
"Mmhm. Well, your job doesn't know that I've known you since my freshman year of high school. We briefly dated in college. And we've been out for drinks on more than one occasion." To that, his face grew red.
"You eating lunch with me is not going to kill you." Spluttering for words, his efforts died down as she dragged him by the arm into the house.
***
Sometimes, when he slept, the memories of his past deeds didn't play out like a film. No, sometimes, he'd be in the thick of battle. Adrenaline pumping, he'd run through the thick jungles and come to a clearing... a strange clearing of sunflowers. Surely not something meant to be in the middle of the jungle but there it would be. And in the middle of that garden of sunflowers, she'd stand. She'd turn towards him, dressed in her wedding dress, and look at him.
