Chapter 01

Tokyo, Japan.

November 1950.

The long curvy fingers tapped the wooden table. The beautiful hand caught the attention of the man in his fifties, making him face the naval merchant who seemed bored at the event. Sitting side by side, servant and master did not speak, just kept focused on their thoughts.

Tadao watched the boss closely while meditating that nothing in recent years seemed to take Ryo out of his world of pain and suffering. Ryo Satoshi would be thirty-two in seven days. He was young, rich, handsome, and powerful. Even though he was part of a defeated country, he had maintained his influential status. Before, he had doubled his earnings by selling food to the Japanese army during the war. At the moment, he was negotiating with the invading army, becoming more and more wealthy every day.

However, the focus on work did not bring light to his eyes. Even there, seated in a hall where he had invested a significant portion of the profits, his posture denoted his conflict. Head down, self-conscious, thoughts far away ... Nothing seemed to matter.

On the stage in front of them, a man was speaking forcefully. At his side, after a catchphrase, a group clapped their hands. It was an exciting day, little by little the country was returning from hell, rising again. Several factories were opening their doors, employment began to emerge, and much of the population was excited by the light that seemed to radiate at the end of the tunnel.

Suddenly, the servant heard the master's name spoken and listened to the segment of the speech:

" That night would not exist, had it not been for the help of this formidable man; so we ask him to take the stage to say a few words and receive our gratitude."

Rolling his eyes, Tadao realized that the man was staring at them. He knew that Ryo had told the event organizers that he didn't want to speak, but in the growing excitement that night, he sensed that the request had been overlooked. Tadao touched his shoulder, awakening him.

Satoshi looked at him questioningly. Then, Tadao, moved his face to the stage, making him realize that he was being called ahead. He looked annoyed, but he didn't refuse. Rising, he walked to the center of the stage, where he stopped in front of a microphone. In front of him, the group of people, who reached a mark above a hundred, seemed anxious for his words.

Ryo took a deep breath and approached the microphone. The static echoed through the great hall, and he cleared his throat before opening his mouth.

"Good night," he said.

Suddenly, silence. Ryo wasn't prepared to speak, he didn't know what to say. It had been a long time since he had even appeared in public, including, lately, most of the closed deals were being carried out by Tadao.

" In the last year of the war " he started, involuntarily, suddenly feeling that the words cascaded from his throat, in an outburst that seemed to cut his soul, " the person I loved confessed that had a dream."

Looking closely at him was not uncomfortable. Virtually everyone there already loved and, indeed, everyone had lost someone important during the war. Grief shone in respectful and kind eyes. That encouraged him to continue.

" But, perhaps, because I was blinded by my arrogance, or perhaps because we simply value people only after we lost them, I ignored this dream, I did not even try to help win it. So, if I had the power to go back to the past, I wish I had at least tried ..."

The words burned again. Ryo took a step back, taking a deep breath, swallowing the tears. He no longer faced the stage, he was absorbed in his guilt.

" When I was told about this project " he looked up and looked at the poster over his head, " I thought I could get a little forgiveness by collaborating."

His candor was understood. Some people nodded in front of him.

" I hope that the 'Tokyo Adult Literacy Center' will bring everyone who benefits from it not only knowledge but also pride and opportunities. You, more than anyone, know the difficulty of not being able to read and write. Now, with the opening of so many jobs in our city, education is a fundamental role in obtaining the best jobs. So, take this opportunity, and achieve what you want. And if you need me, just look for me."

Without further ado, the man left the stage under loud applause. Tadao, standing, waited submissively. He said nothing as he watched him take his jacket and leave the room. He left him alone, as he used to do during those years that seemed like centuries. Since Shiromiya Kazue had disappeared, Ryo survived on forced steps, as if he did not allow himself to die, just because he knew he had many sins to pay in that embittered land.

***

Yanada, Tokyo's famous art district, was busy on that cold late fall night. Ryo stopped in front of a bakery and, through the window, watched the baker selling traditional rice crackers. He was not hungry, but he thought of approaching and eating. It had been a while since he had eaten properly, skipping lunch or dinner, disguising his negligence with a distilled drink.

He opened the door and approached a table. Soon, a girl answered and Ryo ordered cookies and coffee. Since the arrival of the Americans, he started drinking coffee regularly. The first time, it was at a meeting with the new government, in the sale of canned sardines to the American army. He loved the experience and since then has come to enjoy the strong drink every day.

Alone, while waiting for the food, he started to watch the movement of the street. Most of the people walking on the sidewalks were women. Many men lost their lives in the war and, as a result, they took the lead in maintaining their families. With the new constitution, the women could vote and earn their rights. He understood, then, why Miya, in his visions, seemed so safe and self-possessed.

He renounced his thoughts, aware that none of those visions would come true. Thinking of his daughter who would never be born was torture, beyond what he was able to bear. Then, unconscious, he touched the pendant on the string he had kept around his neck for five years. The golden heart, the cheapest jewelry he owned, was, however, his most valuable asset. He took a deep breath, recalling the happy scenes from earlier times, when he had Shiro in his arms, and when he was loved without restrictions.

Suddenly, a child's voice made him divert attention. The boy should had three or four years. He ate a piece of pie while laughing with crooked teeth at the father in front of him. Beside the man, a woman smiled contentedly. A happy family. Something he would have had it not been for his cowardly and inhumane acts.

Ryo got up. He threw the value of what should be worth the cookies and coffee on the table, quickly leaving the establishment, running away from the cheerful image.

***

He walked aimlessly, feeling the icy breeze touch his face in a deadly caress. The truth is that the prospect of returning to his silent home or enjoying the bars and brothels open at that time did not cheer him up.

With the closing of Ai, Ryo no longer had a place to drink and flirt. No brothel attracted his attention, and, truthfully, no woman or man stoked any fire of passion in him. Only then did he spend his nights in his office, reading a classic, venturing into the written world, escaping from reality.

Sometimes Ryo went to see Shin. The thought suddenly returned to 1946, when both were seated in a separate room from the public, awaiting judgment by the International Military Tribunal for the Far East. As the military was condemned, Ryo was preparing for the worst. However, due to a MacArthur setup, a flaw in the process allowed all members of the Imperial family to be cleared of their crimes.

Shin Sakamoto heard his absolution in total silence. Ryo breathed a sigh of relief, holding his hands, as soon as his friend left the building where he was on trial. They didn't talk until they got to his house. Shaken, the nobleman simply sat in an armchair and allowed some tears to escape his exhausted eyes.

"I firmly believed that I would be punished, Ryo-san," Shin said, dejected. " I thought that with my punishment I would find peace ... I need to pay ..."

Ryo heard him in silence. Imagined how Sakamoto self-rebuked, but he could do nothing to ease her guilt. Allowing your friend privacy to be depressed, he left him isolated for a while. In 1947, however, Shin went from depression to madness, filling the house with animals. He walked around the city, picking up stray dogs and cats, passive victims left to themselves after the war. He wanted to blame him, to tell him that he had gone mad, but Shin seemed to have found a reason to live, and that relieved him.

From Sakamoto, Mamoru crossed his mind. He thought of his courtly friend and how much he missed the nightly and sincere conversations. However, before the mind went deeper into the memories, he tripped over something. He turned his face down and realized it was a woman's outstretched leg.

" Need help?" He asked, seeing her sitting as if dying.

Since Shiromiya, he has been unable to leave anyone helpless, left to their own devices.

The hair in disarray, broken and dirty, falling on the thin face. Ryo crouched down in front of her and looked up. He was startled by the image.

" Midori?"

Despite so many years, beauty could still be perceived. The young prostitute from Ai, who had served him many times in the past, was in a state of malnutrition and helplessness, her eyes were dull, her skin was yellow and sick.

" Ryo-san?" She asked, recognizing him.

Satoshi picked her up. The woman's scent grew stronger and he wrinkled his nose but didn't hesitate. He needed to help her urgently.

He got a rental car a few meters ahead. The driver even tried to refuse to take them to the nearest hospital, but Ryo spoke to him with such authority that the man stayed afraid to provoke a rich man. So, in less than an hour, Midori was already resting on a heated bed, being treated by a good team of doctors who promptly responded to the merchant's request.

"We'll do some tests," the doctor explained. " But you must prepare for the worst" it was negative. Then he raised his eyebrows, curious at the situation. " Are you an acquaintance?"

Ryo even thought about talking. However, he found himself being sincere.

" She had been with me ten years ago. I hadn't seen it since 1944 when she was sent to a factory."

The doctor nodded.

"She was a good girl," he added. "Midori took care of the parents," he recalled. "She worked at night to keep her family in difficult times ..."

Two hours later, the doctor returned to the room. He called Ryo for a conversation and, outside the room, explained that the young woman had advanced syphilis.

" We will give penicillin, but the organs were affected. She is dying ..."

Ryo took a deep breath.

"In any case, do what you can," he asked.

Then he went back to bed. At that moment, the woman opened her eyes. They looked at each other, and she noticed that the man was crying. She was surprised by this, but his words, moments later, made the reason clear.

"I didn't ask Shin to let you and Rika be released from the obligation to go to the factories," he said. " I didn't mention her name, nor yours. All I wanted to do was to free Shiromiya from the obligation. I didn't even ask for Aiko, Sakamoto released him because he wanted to."

She smiled, understanding.

"I know, Ryo-san," she admitted. " I always knew. But you sent the money to my family, didn't you?"

" I sent until the date that the bank, which made the payment, reported that everyone had died in a bombing."

Midori felt the tears come and dried them with a flat hand.

"So you did everything you could for me," she said. " If you have any guilt in your heart, forget it."

" How can you forgive me?" He replied. " Because of me, you're like this ..."

"Nobody rules at the destination," the young woman replied. " That was my fate, but thanks to Kami, it is coming to an end."

Ryo sat on a chair beside the bed. He held Midori's right hand, trying to give him strength.

" And Rika?"

" She died at the Osaka factory ..."

Ryo changed the course of the conversation.

" Why didn't you look for Aiko when it was over? He searched for information from you, Rika, and Keiko for months."

" I heard he had changed jobs. I thought it best to let him live your own life " she sighed. " And Nana?"

" Nana died in the first Tokyo bombing."

Midori felt her throat hurt, but she didn't cry.

" Shiro?" She stammered, weakened. Suddenly, however, Midori noticed the golden glow on Ryo's neck. " I know that cord ... Don't tell me that ..."

" I took him to Sapporo " Ryo interrupted. "He stayed with me until July 1945, but then he disappeared," the tone dropped. " It was my fault, I hurt him too much ..."

" And then?"

" I came to Tokyo after him. I thought I might have returned to the shelter of Ai, but I found the place abandoned. Then, I remembered Keiko, and I imagined that Kazue might have sought shelter with her. Hiroshima had not been bombed and was said to be safe. But I knew it was a matter of time ... " he was speechless, distressed. Then he spoke again. " I took a car and drove like crazy to there. I almost died on the road, but I didn't make it in time. You know, it happened ..."

" The bomb?"

" Yes. So, I believe he died there. Aiko searched for the list of the dead that came out a while later and Keiko's name was on. She died at the factory, working, and her son, at school. There was no information about visits, however, it is the most obvious. I wanted to refuse to believe, in the beginning, however, I hired investigators to search for him around the country and none of them achieved anything. Then, in January 1947, I gave up and accepted the fact."

" If they haven't found a body, then there's hope."

" If he was in Hiroshima ... How could there be a body?" he closed his eyes, then said slowly " I will never forgive myself for what I did to him ... I will never forgive myself for what I did to myself ..."

Midori wanted to say something, but an intense cough attacked her. She had to turn her body to the side, spitting out bitter and salty saliva. Ryo realized that the situation was serious.

" I will call Aiko-san..."

"I don't want him to see me like this," she whimpered.

" He loved you and needs to see you before ..." he didn't continue, he didn't have to.

Only then did the woman nod. Faced with that, Ryo ran away.

***

As soon as the surrender was signed on that distant September 2, forty-five, Mamoru Aiko left the Emperor's bunker. Facing a silent Shin Sakamoto, he got up in the morning, took Minikui on his lap, and left the door, leaving the place definitively.

The devastated country did not frighten him. On the first day, free from the eyes of his ex-lover, he returned to the rubble of what had once been his home. The bomb shelter was intact, and he had food and a roof until things gradually began to enter the axes.

Not that it was simple. Frightened and depressed, he had to collect human remains from within and around his home. He cleaned up as he could, but he knew he would never be able to live there again.

About ten months later, he managed to sell the property. He seriously thought about going after Jiro (and Shiro! He knew, of course, that his beloved Kazue was with the sergeant), but he feared that his presence would attract too much attention and Ryo would find him. It was even funny that Satoshi had not suspected that Saito had stolen Shiromiya from him. Perhaps he was considering, but the difference of one day between Jiro's visit and Shiro's disappearance had never been questioned audibly by Satoshi.

So, after a lot of meditation, he preferred to buy a hut in Asakusa. Most of Tokyo's houses and buildings had collapsed, but the neighborhood, in particular, had managed to survive the bombings. The two-story townhouse was close to the geisha district, and Mamoru liked to imagine himself close to the old life. Not very large, its lower part was prepared to receive some kind of trade. There were space and a good service point. The large, glass windows were similar to the door, which also left the street in view. An internal staircase led to the upper floor, where a small and comfortable apartment was ideal for him. Two bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen, and a comfortable bathroom.

For the first few months, he locked himself inside the new house, unwilling to have any contact with the outside world. Sakamoto discovered his location and passed a few times in front of his house. He stood across the street, looking at him through the window, but he didn't dare knock on his door.

After seclusion, he decided to go after his girls. Who knows, maybe someone needed a place to stay? He didn't get any information, it was as if they had disappeared from the map. Keiko was the only one who heard. And the notices were the worst possible.

Finding himself alone and aimless, he looked for Ryo. He borrowed money, needed to create something, to have some occupation in life.

The friend didn't even blink and, on the same day, he started working on his new source of income. He opened a bookshop, a quiet place that needed as little contact with customers as possible. People came, bought books and left. There was no need to entertain anyone or worry about appearance.

In 1949, when his establishment was already famous, a fortunate coincidence made him expand his business. It was a rainy day when Mr. Watanabe - a regular customer - entered the place. After a few minutes of choosing some copies of romantic classics, he approached the counter to pay. As usual, Mamoru answered it with a solicitous smile and, while adding up the bill, looked at the door, worried about the rain that was falling more and more. He noticed that if his client left at that moment, in addition to getting wet, the books would be destroyed, so he suggested:

" Would you like to sit down?"

The man nodded and Aiko arranged a chair near the window to allow him to settle. Then he took him a cup of coffee, a drink he started drinking after the war. After two hours of heavy rain, he realized that his client seemed quite comfortable in the place. Even when the rain passed, he continued reading, seeming to like the environment. When he got up to leave, he thanked the ex-pimp and handed him an American note.

"For coffee," he smiled.

At the same time, Mamoru decided to spread armchairs in the place and make coffee and tea to offer to customers, while they read. In less than a month, sales tripled and the bookstore was subsequently full of customers who went there to read and drink, silent.

Even before the fifties began, he had already paid off his debt to Ryo.

So, on that cold November night, he was surprised to see his friend at the bottom of his house. With Minikui at his side, he opened the door, facing the other. Immediately, he realized his apprehension and foresaw the worst.

" Who?"

Who died?

Only death still existed in that place. Everything else had been lost in the gaps of time.

" Midori."

He never thought to hear that name again. He felt tears welling up in his eyes, and his heart leaped.

"She is still alive, you can say goodbye " Ryo whispered, moved.

Mamoru nodded.

" I'll get my coat."

When he arrived at the hospital, the woman was already unconscious. The doctor explained that the disease had reached her heart and that she probably would not have survived more than an hour on the street. The man then sat on the bed and took her in his arms. They could not talk, but he kissed her cheek, feeling the breath of her life leaving her body.

Aiko didn't cry when her breathing stopped. He just caressed the suffering face and kept her safe, in a brotherly embrace.

***

Two days later, he showed up at Ryo's office. Unlike the times he was there in the past, he was received as a brother, in a strong embraced by the other.

"Thanks for what you did to Midori," he said, sitting down at the table.

In front of him, Ryo nodded.

" I am very sorry that the disease was already at an advanced stage ..." he commented frankly.

Aiko agreed.

" But at least she could die in a warm bed, being treated with respect."

" It's strange that the war still doesn't seem to be over, is it?" Ryo murmured.

At that moment, Mamoru felt himself trying to speak the truth to him. Perhaps, to alleviate the pain of Satoshi, who had been upset since he believed in Shiromiya's death in Hiroshima. However, Aiko got up.

"I need to go," he said. " Just, I came because I wanted to thank you."

Outside the office, he spun around to get back. He thought and thought again and again what he should do. Finally, he left everything as it was. If Kami-sama wanted to bring Shiromiya and Ryo back together, things would one day surface.

"Nobody runs away from what is predestined," he murmured.

And his words were wise.