Rakugo-sha

Sunday Herald Short Story Competition 2016 (Second Prize)

Yoichi woke up sometime around dawn. He did not know for how long he had slept. He stood up and looked out of the window next to the main door. Finding no one, he sat down again. 

He looked around for his partner, Kenta. He walked into the kitchen and found Kenta sleeping on the floor. It must have been Yoichi’s turn to keep watch. He would wake up Kenta when he got tired. He went back and sat down below the window.

He must have passed out again, because he found himself startled awake to the sound of a bullet. The main door was open and he heard footsteps coming towards it. Instinctively he stood up, aimed his gun at the door, and got ready to fire. But, it was Kenta who entered the room, with bleeding legs. Yoichi ran towards the door and locked it. He sat down below the window, grabbed Kenta’s hand and pulled him down. The bullet had pierced Kenta’s leg just above the ankle, and his face had gone pale. Yoichi tore off a piece of his shirt sleeve and put it on the wound.

“Hold it there,” he instructed him and stood up to look out of the window. Not seeing anyone for a few minutes, he ran to the cabinet at the end of the room to fetch the first-aid box. He pulled out the iodine solution and some bandages, and started dressing the wound. They would have to leave the bullet in there for now as the enemy was at their door. After dressing the wound, he stood up again and looked out of the window for a few minutes. Still finding none, he sat down next to Kenta. 

“We have to surrender,” Kenta said to Yoichi’s surprise. “I need medical treatment!”

“What are you talking about? We cannot surrender. We’ll fix your leg, don’t worry,” Yoichi reassured him. 

“Look, we don’t have a doctor. I’ll die if we don’t see one. Come on, Yoichi, let’s surrender. At least, let me go. You can stay here.”

Yoichi knew his partner was in a lot of pain. And the pain was making him say ridiculous things. There was only one thing that could give his partner, and dear friend, some relief from pain. He walked to the kitchen and pulled out some of the special ‘green grass’ they had in the storage. He crushed it and rolled it in a piece of paper, and put the roll in Kenta’s mouth and lit it.

“Inhale a few times. It’ll give you some relief,” Yoichi told Kenta. “We’ll fix your leg. Don’t worry.” 

Yoichi walked over to the window on the other side of the room to see if he could find anyone from a different vantage point. No one. He walked back to where Kenta was sitting, only to find him passed out, the roll of grass still in his mouth. Yoichi pulled it out, sat down, and took a few drags himself before throwing it away. He contemplated his next move. He knew the enemy was out there. For some reason, they were not launching a full-scale attack.

 He concluded that even they had decided to fight the guerrilla way, and decided to retaliate. He knew the forests better than them. He had lived there for 17 years. So they stood no chance.

He carried Kenta on his shoulder into the kitchen and laid him on the floor, put a pillow under his head, and covered him in a blanket. In the front room, he picked out a can of wild fruits from a cabinet. He then filled his water bottle from a drum next to the cabinet. Putting them in his pocket, he kicked open the door and waited. Hearing nothing, he ran out as fast as he could towards the trees, crossing the clearing in front of the hut. Each of his seven senses was sharp. He slowly walked into the forest...

He walked a few hours when he found a durian tree. It was mid-afternoon and the sun was bearing down. The humidity of the tropical forest did not make life any easier. So he decided to take a break. He climbed the tree, plucked a durian fruit, and ate it along with the can of wild fruits he had carried. He would refill the can as and when he would find other fruit trees along the way...  
  
Yoichi remembered the day he had come to the command centre, or ‘the hut’, as they called it. He had joined the army one year after the commencement of the Great War, as a 21-year-old. Before, he had been working with his father, a fifth-generation cobbler, in their family shoe shop. But Yoichi had no interest in continuing in that line of work. So, he had decided to join the army. To his own surprise, he had done well. His skill set was perfectly suited for guerrilla warfare — made of high endurance, great composure and sharp senses. Two weeks after the completion of his training, he had been posted to the Philippines, and he, along with four others, had arrived at ‘the hut’. 

It had been 17 years since. The rations that they had brought had long run out. Very little ammo was left. They had lost three men to the enemy, including the in-house medical expert. Only he and Kenta were left. He figured this had to be the longest war in the history of mankind. He also remembered his commander’s words before he left: “No matter what happens, never surrender. We’ll come and get you once the war is over. Our country depends on you. Do not let Japan down.” 

Around dusk, he started walking again. It was still hot and humid, but it was manageable. He walked for almost two hours before he spotted something. Fire! He crouched behind a bush, a few metres away from it. He observed that there was only one person in front of the fire. Confident there was only one person, he moved forward, but left the rifle behind the bush. He pulled out his pistol and advanced. He walked to the back of the person and placed the gun on his head. 

Startled, the man turned around and jumped back, almost landing into the fire. He raised his hands and fixed his eyes on Yoichi. 

“Where are the others?” asked Yoichi. “Who others?” the man asked. “There is no one else. I’m alone.” “Yeah, right!” Yoichi said. “Tell me, or I will shoot.” “Are you Yoichi Nishita?” asked the stranger. Yoichi was taken back. How did this stranger know his name? Yoichi grabbed him by the collar and pressed the gun to his forehead. “How do you know my name? Who the hell are you?” The stranger was breathing heavily now. He had a terrified look on his face. “I was trying to find you,” he gulped. “I’m from Japan. I wanted to tell you that the war is over. You need to surrender and come back to Japan.”Yoichi looked at the stranger for a few moments. He then started laughing. “Is this what you Filipinos are up to now? What kind of a trick is this? It’s stupid. And moreover, why would I surrender?!” 

“Because...” the stranger paused. His voice was shaking now. “Because what?” Yoichi growled. “Because Japan lost.” 

Yoichi’s face turned red. He could sense his blood boiling with anger. “How dare you? You swine!” he screamed. “Japan can never lose. You deserve to die just for saying that.” 

He stood up again and pointed the gun at the stranger. He was about to pull the trigger when the stranger raised his hands. “Wait, wait, I have letters from your parents.” The stranger crawled to his right and reached into his backpack to pull a few sheets of paper. Yoichi snatched the papers and started reading them. 

There were two letters — one from his father and one from his mother. He recognised both their handwritings. He couldn’t believe it. The letters said the war had ended 15 years ago, and that they were requesting him to surrender and return to Japan. 

Yoichi thought about it for a few seconds. “This is impossible,” he thought. “My general would have definitely come to inform me if the war was over. And besides, Japan can never lose.” 

He lifted his pistol again. The stranger’s eyes widened. Yoichi pulled the trigger before the stranger could start pleading again. The bullet went through his forehead and he fell backwards. 

The enemy is really frustrated, Yoichi thought. They couldn’t get him for 17 years, and now, they had turned to using bizarre tactics. He looked at the letters again. Had they captured his parents? Letters could be forged, but how did they know what his parents’ handwriting looked like? He had many questions, but he would have to seek answers later. The others would have heard the shot and would be coming towards him now. 

He lifted the dead man to his shoulder. He noticed the man was wearing a bracelet which had the Kanji symbol (that stood for ‘strength’) on it. He started moving east, and it started raining. Looking for shelter, he realised there was an abandoned house a few hundred metres from where he was. He would go to the house and hide there till the rain stopped. 

After walking for 15 minutes, he reached the house. It was a very old house. Nature had taken over most of it. He entered it and put the body on the floor. The lock on the door was missing, so he just shut the door and turned around to see if he could find a stone that he could place behind the door. That was when he saw the other body in the room. It was lying by the window on the far end. He crouched next to it to get a better view. The body must have been very old. Insects had eaten off most of it.

 Only bones were left now. But, he noticed something strange. There was a bracelet on the body’s right hand. It had a Kanji symbol on it; exactly like the one worn by the man whom he had just shot. Although the clothes were extensively faded, Yoichi realised that they were the same as the ones worn by the stranger he had found earlier. Surely, it had to be another of the enemies. One of his men must have killed him a few years ago. 

Anyway, there was a giant stone a few feet away. As he picked up the stone, something took him by surprise. The body of the man, whom he had just killed, had disappeared. He scanned the room and then ran out. Nobody! It was impossible. He had shot the man in the head. 

Fear and confusion began to set in. He stood there baffled while the rain poured down hard on his head. He closed his eyes. He had to stay calm. If at all the man was alive, it would not be too long before the enemy camp arrived at his location.He went back in, picked up his rifle, and ran towards the hut as fast as he could. He saw that Kenta was sitting in the living room when he entered the hut. He quickly shut the main door and locked it. He stood at the window to check if he could spot any signs of movement.

“We have to surrender,” he heard Kenta say. “I need treatment now.”Yoichi sighed. This was the last thing he needed when there were enemies at the gate. He turned around.

“We cannot surrender. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. We’ll take care of your leg in some time.”

“The war is over, Yoichi. It ended many years ago. Even my wife wrote me a letter saying so...”

“What? How did you get a letter from your wife?”“I met a man in the jungle while I was scouting. I did not believe him at first, but it makes sense. We have not spotted any enemies for many years now. And we have not got any reinforcements either. War is over, Yoichi. We lost. Come with me. Let’s go home.”

Yoichi sat next to his dear friend. “Kenta, you’ve gone crazy. The war’s still going on. The Filipinos and Americans are playing these tricks. This is exactly what they want us to do. You have to be strong. If there’s no enemy, who shot you in the morning? Have you thought about that? Stay strong. We’ll get through this.”Yoichi got up and walked back to the window.

“I shot myself, Yoichi.” he heard Kenta say. “I thought you would have mercy on me and let me go. Looks like you have a cold heart.” Yoichi turned around. He was lost for words.

“Yes, Yoichi! I shot myself.” There was a pause as Kenta pulled out a pistol from behind him and unlocked the safety. “And, if you don’t let me go, I’m going to shoot you too.” His hands were shivering and he had begun to sob. Yoichi was confident that Kenta wouldn’t shoot. The man was too weak. He was a soldier, but not a warrior. His assumption was right. A few minutes later, Kenta dropped the gun from his shaking hands. Yoichi lifted his rifle and aimed it at Kenta.

“Go easy on the grass, Yoichi. It’s known to make people crazy,” were Kenta’s last words. The thunders in the sky covered up the sound of the rifle as the bullet pierced his heart.

Yoichi dropped down to his knees, put his head on the ground, and began to cry. The pain of having to kill one’s best friend resonated in the sound of his wails. Kenta would have never hurt him, but he was a deserter and that made him a traitor. It had to be done.

He walked into the kitchen when his tears dried up. There was only one cure for the pain. He needed the special ‘green grass’. But what he saw in the kitchen as he entered sent a chill through his spine. There was a man lying on the floor. Pointing his gun at him, he kicked the man. No reaction. When he turned the body to have a look at the face, it was Kenta’s. He flew back in horror and landed against the wall. Impossible! The body was slightly decomposed, but he still recognised it. It was Kenta. 

He ran out to the hall and was shocked to see that Kenta’s body was missing. He felt a pit rise up in the stomach. Nothing made sense anymore. His head began to spin. He lost his balance and fell to the ground. He knew what he had to do. There was only one thing left to do. He made a roll out of the special ‘green grass’ and inhaled as much smoke as he could, sitting below the window of the living room. He could feel himself passing out. And then darkness set in. 

Yoichi woke up sometime around dawn. He did not know for how long he had slept. He stood up and looked out of the window next to the main door. Finding no one, he sat down again. He looked around for his partner, Kenta. He walked into the kitchen and found Kenta sleeping on the floor. It must have been Yoichi’s turn to keep watch. He would wake up Kenta when he got tired. He went back and sat down below the window.

He must have passed out again, because he found himself startled awake to the sound of a bullet. The main door was open and he heard footsteps coming towards it. Instinctively he stood up, aimed his gun at the door, and got ready to fire. But, it was Kenta who entered the room, with bleeding legs...

A note on Japanese ‘holdouts’ 

World War II ended on September 2, 1945, when Japan surrendered. But for some Japanese soldiers, the war did not end there. Soldiers in isolated regions continued to fight for many years after 1945, either because they were unaware, or they refused to believe that Japan had lost. These soldiers are referred to as ‘holdouts or stragglers’, and their stories are absolutely fascinating.

Girish is an engineer, businessman, runner, and an aspiring writer. Apart from running marathons, he runs a start-up that is involved in making low-cost agricultural equipments to facilitate farmers. He calls himself a proud Bengalurean. His love for reading has been ever-present, but his bias is towards mysteries, thrillers and espionage.  He started writing short stories a year ago for his blog. Personal-life experiences and current events inspire him to write.