Are you married?

am NOT going to fall in love. I am not going to look for her. We are not the same. She is another culture--Fulvio kept saying, enjoying the spite of not seeing her, while singing at the top of his lungs in the middle of the ruins the Mexican song, which he suddenly loved without knowing why.

After sleepless nights, he traveled up and down Shanghai looking for the beautiful young woman. Until he found her. He went back to the hospital. Everyone told him who she was. "Madame Moonlight." The lead singer of the Moonlight. The favorite haunt of the high Japanese officialdom.

--"Lucero Luz de Luna",--said Fulvio in Spanish, looking at the sign of the place.

--They are very beautiful but they give horrendous children-he justified while he took a good bath, dressed in a Japanese navy uniform they gave him, cleaned his badges, carefully kissed them and put them on, while repeating constantly.

---I'm not going, I'm not going. I definitely don't like it. I'm just curious.

Refusing to go to see her, vowing never to do so he arrived at the door of the Moonlight.

--I'm not going in,-- he said firmly, looking at the neon lights, then stepped into the gloomy, smoky atmosphere of the place.

That night Madame Moonlight sang a heartbreaking and pathetic Japanese song that had the Japanese officers watching her wet-eyed.

--I'm not going to sit down. I'm not going to talk to him. SHe's not going to overpower me--Fulvio said to himself, walking through the smoke and the Japanese military. Once again the stage went dark and a white light illuminated the stage.

A small figure in a tight white suit came out again to thank the applause, a red rose in her hair, matching her red lips; to impose a gigantic silence. She began to sing accompanied by a sad piano. It was a song of love between enemies, whose only hope for happiness was the death of both.

--That is not with me,--Fulvio said to himself, feeling invisible ties that forced him to see that figure that pulled him mercilessly towards her.

--I don't like it. I definitely don't like her,--said Fulvio watching her hypnotized, not missing a single detail of her; standing right in front of her at the edge of the stage, cursing Giovanni Puccini for writing his story in Madame Butterfly, without noticing he took a glass full of Old Sontori from a Japanese aviator and then swallowed it in one gulp, he repeated,

--She is very small and must not have any ass at all. Besides, I've only seen her twice and she makes me tachycardia. That must be very dangerous for me.

He glanced sideways at Namura. For the young woman in a movement of the stage, turned her gaze to the table. The insignia quickly explained to Fulvio, who was The Commander of the Japanese Military district of the Shanghai Area. A grim-faced old man, he tapped a thoughtful finger on his glass as he watched the young girl sing in drag and transfixed with grief. The man seemed to understand his stormy love affair of just him with no one.

--That's Namura,-- the young man said to himself, seeing from a distance, despite the smoke and poor lighting, the other's insignia. The only ones in all of Shanghai

Madame thanked him with a dull smile. She caught a glimpse of the auditorium. She recognized the silhouette, standing right in front of the stage . Fulvio stared at her with his mouth open. He had simply never seen a being as beautiful as this woman. He could not understand why she seemed so familiar, so intimate, as if she had always been waiting for him in front of him.

A spectacular smile lit up the girl's features. She went to her pianist and said something in his ear. Immediately she made a total change. She sang, she laughed, she danced, she gyrated, she was again Madame Moonlight in all her flirtatious and sensual splendor.

--It has nothing to do with me,-- said Fulvio again in a trance and swallowing thickly. Watching the whirlwind evolution of the only queen of the sinful nights of wartime Shanghai.

The young woman finished. A hurricane of cheers and applause broke out. Several officers who knew of Namura's personal tragedy, congratulated him and a group of pilots, removed to a side the catatonic Gallipoli, went up to the stage, took her on shoulders and took her; between hurrahs, to the general's table.

-- General Takeo Namura invites you to his table,-- said a young Colonel to the Major. Who came to his senses and immediately went to the Commander's table.

--Major Fulvio Gallipoli presents himself before his excellency,-- said Fulvio in firm before the general. With a gesture he invited him to sit down. A luxury for a simple major.

The young woman dared to kiss the General on the cheeks and ignored the Italian Major. It was a very explicit indication to the major. It meant "Behave yourself and don't be too smart, the girl has a suitor And very dangerous," thought the young man, understanding the gesture.

The young woman was introduced to the Major, who politely greeted her. Not admiring the girl was dangerous, for it was an insult to Namura. To show excessive interest was also an insult to Namura. That was simply because no one understood the Japanese and such ignorance invariably meant death to the ignorant.

Namura conversed distantly for a while amidst the polite laughter and approval of the officers. He asked the usual questions in a conversation between military men, allies or not. He asked about the capabilities of the Italian army. Hurtfully he reminded everyone of the poor bravery of the Italians in Africa and Russia. He compared them to the Venezuelan armies, world famous for their infinite cowardice and irresponsibility. He asked the reason for his visit. He was very interested in Gallipoli's translation work on gyroscopes and regretted that the manual was lost in the shipwreck. Needless to say that he as an ally of the Japanese had to join the glorious and invincible Japanese army, now that it looked completely restored.

Suddenly Namura asked the Major to dance a tango with Moonlight. He knew of the lyrical and dancing qualities of the Italians. He did not ask him whether he could dance or not. He simply ordered him.

-- I don't know if I can, my wounds are many and strong,--refusing to make the girl suffer. He also ignored Namura's many insults to his nationality. Worse yet; to his two nationalities. --A tango. A Tango--began to request the officers jovially, gently tapping their glasses on the table....

The young man stood up and offered his arm to the young woman . She with a nonchalant grace hung on his arm.

The orchestra began to play an out-of-tune "for a head". The young people began to evolve. He felt her trembling and it gave him immense pleasure. She dared to look directly at him spellbound, but in turn made him stagger. Both aggressive. Both imposing. They immediately declared war on each other like fighting cocks. It was beyond both of them.

Would there be a chance? All of them. Would there be a future for both of them? Maybe. Would it be easy? Not at all, would they stop trying? Not even with bullets. Would they sleep together? That was inevitable. Would they fall in love? Of course they would. They seemed to be a couple of a lifetime.

The song ended. In the eternity of a second Fulvio recognized her as the most beautiful. Everyone present realized what was going on between those two...

They both walked towards the table. The young man handed the young woman to a livid Namura who was waiting on his feet. Namura showed the face of a man who is facing his greatest danger. Madame Moonlight was simply not there. The major was merely smoking a cigarette. It could be seen that he was a few miles beyond Jupiter.

--Did you leave any love in Italy? Are you married?"-- asked Namura foolishly, hoping for a reassuring answer, for a superstitious anguish came over him as he watched the couple dance.

--Not really--was the terrible answer.

--And here,??-- asked Namura with the dreadful fear of an ugly old man, alone, hopelessly in love.

--Yes, my Toyota, which is extremely faithful to me,-- lied to the older man, receiving the distant scent of the young woman.

Hours later and several bottles later Madame Moonlight said goodbye to everyone, one without seeing or speaking to him.

--It will be tonight--threatened the general to avoid further danger.

The young woman silently denied. She withdrew, her sandals in her hand and a glass in another; feeling a scorching gaze piercing her back.