Chapter 35

" You are afraid?"

" Fear?"

" Yes, fear. Don't you feel chills to think that everything that is in front of you now, may not be tomorrow? That each one of these people who now cross us can die so cruelly?"

Ryo raised the apple to his lips. He bit it and meditated on the phrase.

Ueno Park was beautiful on that beautiful November morning. Autumn had brought a pink hue to the leafy cherry trees. Ahead, the lake shone in contact with the sun, and the cold wind gave the landscape an even more beautiful atmosphere. Ryo sighed happily to be there, sitting next to Shiromiya.

" There is not much difference between a war expert and me. Many men who are now in combat strategies already know our destiny, even without the visions."

" But it must be scary."

Ryo smiled and took Shiro's right hand. The fingers intertwined, hidden under the huge coat that covered their legs, was the only touch that occurred in that public environment. But, it was so comforting and warm that Ryo felt on fire.

"I'm used to it," he said.

Shiromiya understood.

"Tell me, Ry-chan," he whispered, gently. " How long do you think it will take for everything to happen?"

" Are you scared? " Ryo shook his hand, trying to convey support.

"A little," he admitted.

Ryo laughed softly, hiding a strange satisfaction.

" I already said I'll take care of you."

" Yes..."

The tone between them was sweet. Since June, when Ryo saved him from being sent to the factories, Kazue Shiromiya seemed more confident about the trader's intentions. Thus, he no longer ran away from his touches or his kisses which were exchanged at each visit to Ai.

Even so, Ryo was dissatisfied. As much as Shiro did not refuse to say goodbye with a more intimate affection, there was no spontaneous invitation to visit the bedroom. Ryo even tried to give him some indication of how interested he was in being alone with him, but the other smiled and said they were already, as Mamoru was locked in his room and Nana, in the kitchen.

Biting his lip, Ryo held a complaint that the "be alone " he wanted with the boy, was not exactly drinking tea in the garden. However, as he had frightened him many times in the past, he thought it best to remain quiet in his corner, waiting for the situation to unfold.

" We look like boyfriends " Shiro laughed.

Ryo looked at him. Suddenly he realized: he had been visiting the boy for months, taking him by heart, taking him to familiar places, where they were quietly holding hands, sharing moments. And, on top of that, he made promises to his. Shiro's perception was not wrong, and it scared him. He pulled out his hand, terribly uncomfortable.

" Let's go?" He asked, smiling, trying to distract him from his retreat.

" Forgive me " Shiromiya made it clear that he had noticed the reaction. " I didn't mean it out loud."

Ryo felt them.

" It's all right. "

However, he confirmed nothing. Now, how could it? They were men. Both. He would never be involved in a homosexual relationship. All he wanted to do was just share the pleasure Ryo spent my life listening to Sakamoto talk about. And also, he would get married. Soon, by age's Miya seemed to be in your vision.

After all, they were not egalitarian. If Shiro was in a position like Shin's, or maybe even Saito's, he could imagine having him as a steady and long-lasting lover. He knew there were many such cases among the rich.

However, Shiro was just Shiro. Thin, poor, with long-suffering eyes, donated clothes, and old shoes. There was no way to keep him as a stable lover. At most, Ryo would give him a home and leave him there, waiting for him to serve him when Ryo felt need. He had already decided that there was no need to deceive him more than necessary to get what Ryo wanted from him.

In the distance, the sound of a loud radio announced the surrender of the Axis in Greece. Ryo looked in that direction, curious about the outcome. Shiro got up from the bench and stood beside him.

The merchant avoided looking at him and started walking. They heard some sad sighs from passersby, a group was talking about the battles. It was a world completely surrendered to despair.

" Ry-chan " Shiro called him, causing him to turn around, facing the boy who followed him. " You told me once that I would survive the war, right?"

" Yes, I saw your future and didn't look hurt."

" When the war is over, I intend to look for a job outside Ai. If I weren't a dancer, would you be proud of me?"

The doubts present in that dejected look ended up grinding the rest of Ryo's sanity. Turning his back on the boy, he quickly walked away from him, fleeing for the first time, not only from what Shiro stood for but also from his reactions to what he felt for him.

***

Shiro no longer saw Ryo for the rest of the year. November and December passed with agonizing slowness as if time rested on the back of a huge turtle. Alone, Shiro, Mamoru, and Nana did not receive visitors and felt completely abandoned. There was no more laughter or joy in that place.

Like Aiko, Shiro gave in to sadness. However, not for long. After hiding the rest of November in his room, he spent the last month of the year working on a kind of greenhouse he built to protect plants from the snow that had started in the second half of the month.

He refused to think about Ryo, or whatever the other was doing. Knew, from all those years of experience, that the trader would come up with any stupid excuse, apologize and things would stay as usual, after all, he had an excessive difficulty and to cut ties, to remove him definitively.

However, as Shiro began to plan the restart of his life, away from Ai, little by little, he realized that perhaps he could overcome that challenge. Far away, in another city, he could forget about Ryo and his empty promises. He could forget the marks that stained his past, which made him impure and withdrawn.

And it was with this in mind that, on the first day of 1945, he approached Mamoru to congratulate him on a happy new year.

" Do you want to leave? " Aiko asked nervously at the possibility.

"I will not abandon you," Shiromiya denied. " Just, I don't think there's anything else here for us. Why don't we all go? You, Nana, and me?"

The old woman who drank tea next to them seemed to be excited.

"We can go south," she said to Mamoru. " Fukuoka is a good city to live in. If we put Ai up for sale, for sure, we will have good money to settle elsewhere."

Mamoru knew that things would never be the same again. In that early twilight of the year, it was a year that Shin had abandoned him. Shin never looked for him, never asked for him. However, admitting the end was so difficult that he undermined himself just by thinking.

"Perhaps," he replied, at last, not wanting to destroy the old woman's and the boy 's dreams. " Who knows? Can I think a little?"

Nana and Shiro didn't answer, but they got excited because it was the first time that Mamoru, at least, accepted to consider the possibility of leaving Tokyo.

That night, as they retired to their beds, each had a hope in him. Nana dreamed of a quiet home, where she could rest for the rest of her days without any problems. Shiro envisioned a job - no matter which one - where he could be proud of who he was. And Aiko thought only of forgetting every detail of his existence, what he felt, and coming out victorious in picking up the pieces of his wounded heart.

***

There were no New Year celebrations in that silent and desperate Tokyo. Shin watched the darkness from afar, through the gigantic glass windows he had at home. Saito came up behind him and handed him a glass of vagabond brandy he had bought during an afternoon round.

"Happy New Year," the sergeant said, in a teasing tone.

For the first time in a year, Sakamoto laughed like never before. Suddenly, the tone of irony had sounded funny, and the man held on to the other, laughing as he almost fell to the floor.

"It took a while," Jiro said seriously. " But it seems that, at last, you lost the rest of your sanity."

" I? " Shin wiped his eyes, still holding on with laughter. Suddenly, he became serious. " I dreamed of the holy victory of our country. But there is not much to say about what is to come."

" Did you talk to Ryo? Did he say anything more about the future?"

" No. Ryo-san hasn't been in days. I looked for him in his house, but he received me with the embittered face. He said he has more to do, and he has no time for war matters."

" Honto ni[44]?

" Yes, but it is not for him that I realize that there is no more solution."

Shin then held out a paper that was in his pocket for his friend. Jiro picked it up and read the title: Divine wind[45].

Saito had to lean against the wall to keep from falling. His countenance showed how stunned and shocked he was.

"My God," was all he said.

"Our best pilots are dead, " Shin murmured. " What other choice did we have?"

" Surrender?"

" Surrender is a shame that none of us are prepared to face."

" Isn't it embarrassing to send boys to throw their explosive-laden planes on American ships? "

" Suicide is an honor " Shin defended the idea. " I would die without hesitating for what I believe!"

Jiro walked away. He wanted distance from Sakamoto but was followed closely by him. On the stairs, they confronted each other again.

" Each Japanese soldier will kill countless American soldiers. Every ship destroyed or damaged is perhaps the one that will save us from defeat. We need to prevent the United States from reaching Japan."

" Destroying our planes and killing our soldiers will not save us!"

Shin denied it.

" As long as a Japanese man is standing, we will not surrender. Even if these die, others will come. Everyone is willing to give his life and soul in the name of his nation. "Every Japanese is capable of becoming a member of the unit."

" Do not quote Sekio Nishina[46] for me!"

"Jiro, try to understand," he asked. " It is our homeland, our reason for existing. We are doing this for the Empire and our beloved Emperor."

Saito had given more to the Empire than anyone else there. Did you dedicate your youth to the cause, commit barbarism for it and still dare Shin to ask you for more?

"I have a reason for existing," he said. "Myself," he explained. " I! " shouted. " I don't need to and I don't want to prove anything to anyone."

Jiro tried to climb up, but Shin's hands squeezed him. Suddenly, he felt himself being thrown against the wall. He wanted to complain, but the other's manly mouth enveloped him. Irritated, he tried to walk away, but Sakamoto showed his strength once again.

" Comfort me, Jiro ... " he asked, in an irritating whimper.

The sergeant tried to push him over again, but the body seemed even stronger, heavier, more dominant.

"I thought we were over it," Saito grunted.

" I always wish you ..."

" Look at my face, Sakamoto." His tone was firm and hard. " Do you think I'm an asshole? You haven't had Mamoru in a year, have you? War is not the only cause of their torment. And then you want someone to mend your wounds? May the devil carry you if you think I'm some kind of disposable comfort!"

" Jiro ..."

" I'm sick of you! " he said, seeming to expel all the accumulated anger from him all the time. It's been a year since my life has been trying to stop you from talking too much, drinking too much, ruining your own life! And in the meantime, I see Mamoru Aiko wither, day after day. And he continues to cry for you as if the end of yours relationship had occurred yesterday " Jiro felt his eyes water, but he took a deep breath and swallowed the cry. Gathering his forces, he pushed Shin and pulled away. " You made me give up on him, promising me that you would make him happy. And look at what you did? Your love is weak, it is useless. It is a feeling similar to dry leaves, any wind blows away."

Sakamoto couldn't move. Still, he replied.

" I'm your superior, how can you speak in that tone?"

" Do not like? " Saito faced him, almost touching their nose. " I already said the solution. Kill me! Don't you have the courage? Then send me to the front."

Proximity culminated in desire. Shin could hate the things Jiro said, but he wanted him. Even if he didn't love him romantically, still, the body reacted to his sweet smell. Holding his neck firmly, he brought him in for a needy kiss.

Saito fought like crazy, as he was carried to his room and thrown between the sheets. Then he tried to free himself from the mouth that descended from his lips, down to his neck, and chest. Finally, having no other choice, he raised his knee and hit his friend's hard masculinity with all his might.

When Shin fell to the side, he got out of bed and walked quickly to the closet itself. Saito took a bag from there, in which he threw some clothes. He turned on his back, ready to leave when he was pressed by his feet. Imbalanced, he fell to the ground.

" Sakamoto! �� shouted.

Clinging to his legs, the other kept him so fixed that it barely looked like he had just been engaged in the lower parts.

"Don't leave me," he pleaded. " Jiro ..."

"I got tired, Shin," the sergeant retorted, uncomfortable.

"I know," he admitted tiredly. " But if you are not by my side, what will become of me?"

While Shin was clinging to his legs, Saito looked at the door. A new kick and he would have his freedom. However, when the tears started to fall, he realized that it was not just the two strong hands that kept him there.

***

Saito Jiro did not leave Sakamoto's house. He even tried, more than once, in the course of that January, but he hesitated with each pleading look, with each outstretched hand, with every tear that ran down the face of the other.

Then, at the end of the month, when Shin told him, sobbing, that Japan withdrew from the Chinese coast, he decided to stay. Now they would soon be defeated, trampled like cockroaches, perhaps even killed. Why wouldn't he spend your last moments with Sakamoto? Shin, despite all the defects, was the only person to show interest in him.

The Americans landed at Iwo Jima. The war was already lost, but the motto was to face everything with your head held high. Not allowing himself to be captured and shooting himself if there were no more chances of victory, it was the order that echoed among all who served the Empire. Saito knew, on that sultry morning of the 19th of February, that many there gave their lives to a revolver bullet. He could hear "Banzai[47] "shouted in his mind. When that happened, he realized that he didn't need to be a diviner like Ryo to know exactly the fate of each soldier.

At that same time, Shin started drinking more. The member of the Imperial family did not even look at the forms and papers with respect. Not a single minute of the day went by when he didn't have a glass in his hand, his eyes were red and his legs were staggering.

As the loyal servant he was, Saito followed him during the days, taking care of his master. Then Saito put him on the bed, taking off his shoes. He lay on a futon next to it, ready for anything Shin needed.

Because of the situation, he was unable to go to Ai. When March came, he decided it was time to see Mamoru. He missed the courtier and Shiro. He wanted Nana's lap, he wanted to hear any sound other than his superior's words of despair. Then, one night, he took Shin to bed, laid him down, and turned his back on him. He arranged himself carefully and, regardless of the time, left.

He knew that, probably, the inhabitants of Ai would already be sleeping, after all, they would have no reason to go into the night without the movement of customers. But he also knew that Mamoru would not deny him a conversation and a free bed. He planned to stay there, have his coffee with Aiko, and spend the day talking about anything that didn't involve drinking and war. So, before approaching the red quarter, he stopped in front of a bakery. Several establishments attended at night. Even if the bread was stale, it would still be nice to feed on the butter that Nana beat so well. His attempt, however, was denied by the warning sign on the front. There was no bread or flour. There were no supplements to be sold. Two establishments later and the same statement, made him give up his intention.

However, as he left the third bakery, far away, he noticed two members of the Kempeitai attacking an old man. He thought of going astray, after all, he wasn't wearing his uniform or have documents, but he suddenly realized that there was nothing to lose. Saito Jiro was a man who carried a cyanide capsule in his pockets, he was a man his family had never written to know his status, a man who was in a sick relationship with his rival for the love of someone who wanted nothing from him.

And, by heaven, the country was dying! A rotten fruit about to fall to the ground, destroyed by war. Then he advanced towards the police.

"Hey, cowards," he called them. When he saw the furious look in his direction, he went on. " Come here and hit someone who can defend himself."