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When the dawn breaks, the tense atmosphere and deafening stillness fell throughout the trenches. The calm before the storm, the silence as if waiting to be buried alive in their graves. They’re all already half-dead men anyways- no longer human. Doesn’t matter if some of them were once good men, they’re all trapped in a cursed place where the only way to survive is to become an animal.
Yuusaku propped himself on the wooden ladder, one foot up on the rung above the other, his head ducked, and his fingers tightly gripping the handle of the imperial flag till his knuckles turned white. He closed his weary eyes as he exhaled out a shaky breath from his chapped lips, white puffs blending in with the piling freezing snow surrounding them. Together with the other soldiers lined up behind him, they anxiously waited for the inevitable unknown.
The embrace of death was felt by everyone in the front lines, the unspoken horror of ‘who’s next?’ as it picks its victims at random. Whether you're Russian or Japanese, old or young, officers of noble birth or mere rank and file soldiers. They come instantly if you’re lucky enough, while it could creep in terrifyingly and agonisingly slow- making you beg for death more than to even bother staying alive.
Most men were afraid of death, but Yuusaku had never feared dying. Perhaps that’s the reason why Yuusaku- by some unexplainable chance- had managed to steer clear from it for so long despite having the deadliest occupation in the army. Why would it scare him, when it is the only thing that could bring him closer to the person he has longed for all his life?
The dawn at 203 meter hill overlooking the sea reminded him of a distant memory from over a decade ago- the beautiful sight of Kagoshima Bay during dusk; watching the sunset together with that person from Shiroyama hill.
If he had ran out of his luck escaping his grim reaper this time, then perhaps it’s not too bad of a place to die.
When the signal to charge was finally whistled, Yuusaku immediately leaped from the trenches- leading the barrage of men like pigs into slaughter. As the earth explodes and quakes, accompanied by the volleys of gunshots and the thunderous roar from the Maxim machine guns, second lieutenant Hanazawa Yuusaku led the battle across no man’s land, waving the imperial flag proudly as he shouts loud for victory.
I’m coming to you soon, so please… wait for me just a little longer.
•
Yuusaku watches as the city pass by him from the small square window of the horse carriage. Seeing the rapid modernisation of the city- of new unfamiliar structures, and many other carriages carrying wood and bricks, it made Yuusaku feel foreign in the city he’s lived in his entire life.
It was approaching the end of Meiji 28 when Yuusaku was brought to Yasukuni shrine for the first time. It was a celebration to commemorate the tens of thousands of newly enshrined deities who had lost their lives during the first Sino-Japanese war. Yuusaku remembers the dark gloomy November sky- as if the heavens were in mourning with them that day, casting a melancholy shadow on the trees and cobblestones beneath them.
To bring peace to the homeland; that’s what Yasukuni meant, Yuusaku learns in school.
Yuusaku has seen many of the veterans- they’re not hard to spot these days. All of them merely an empty shell of their old selves, going through the remaining of their days carrying the heavy guilt of survival- of doing the unforgivable, all in the name of the glory of their country. Was this really how you obtain peace?
When the carriage slowly came to a stop in front of the giant red torii gate, Yuusaku adjusted his hat and was greeted by the chilly winter breeze as he stepped down on the white pebbled sand. He could see many other officers dressed similarly to father- with their elaborate dress coats, decadent in gold braids and their many medals of achievements.
However, behind the distinguished dressed men, Yuusaku could also see other people with eyes so dull, a great wrench of sadness written all over their faces, hollowed out by the immeasurable pain they must have had to endure and thus carry for the rest of their lives. Yuusaku instinctively knows that they must be the bereaved families left behind by their fathers, husbands, brothers, or sons.
Yuusaku himself had only personally known one person who had lost their life during the war. The memories from the few stolen moments they were able spend together now a precious treasure to him. Even more so now knowing that there will never be any chance to create new ones together. They’re kept safe, forever reverberating deep within a secret box in his heart, its keys long since thrown away.
He could never forget his beautiful eyes, his long eyelashes and the soft crinkles forming at the sides when he smiles; his always gentle guiding touch, his strong arms enveloping Yuusaku’s then much smaller body, his scent- the fresh, salty smell of the ocean and something else genuinely him that were always calming to Yuusaku.
Koito Heinojou was Yuusaku’s comfort and safety— his anchor.
Standing in the middle of the moving black shade of people, Yuusaku remembers draining up the well in his tear-ducts dry under the covers for nights on end when he had received the news a year prior. His hands desperately clutching onto the letters they had exchanged between one another as painful sobs wrecked through his body. Heinojou’s neat brushstrokes on the yellowing grainy paper- now the only proof he has left of Heinojou’s existence. Yuusaku had read through his words over and over again, eventually memorising each letter he has ever received from him, down to every last word.
That day, all everyone in school talked about was the victory the naval forces had achieved on the Yellow sea, how they achieved total victory- a morale booster and a promising outcome for Japan to easily win rest of the upcoming battles and eventually, the war.
As soon as Yuusaku returned from school, he immediately sneaked into father’s study to look for the newspaper issued that morning.
‘Great victory to the combined squadrons in the battle of the Yellow sea!’ Was the headline for the day’s issue. Yuusaku quickly scanned through the article when he read it. In a smaller print, it wrote:
‘A 259-mm shell struck her unarmored starboard side, and two 305-mm shells struck through both sides of her hull, destroying a gun that was being loaded, and knocked 3 guns out of commission. As a result, the Matsushima had unfortunately lost 57 men, and 54 wounded.’
Matsushima was the flagship Heinojou was on. Dread and fear quickly consumed Yuusaku- all he could think of was of Heinojou’s safety.
For the two nights following the news, Yuusaku lay awake staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep nor eat his meals properly. His clouded mind kept drifting over to thoughts about Heinojou, of how Otonoshin and his family would be faring now- if they have any news at all about Heinojou’s wellbeing.
The next day, mother came into his room after receiving a phone call, her hand on his shoulder as she informed him of Heinojou’s ill-fated end.
Yuusaku feels his heart sink deep into the bottomless ocean- his only anchor now no more.
‘We hear that Our combined squadrons fought bravely in the Yellow Sea and obtained a great victory, and perceive that their power will command the enemy's seas. And deeply appreciating the services of Our officers and men, We are delighted with the extraordinary results they have obtained.’
Those were the exact words of the emperor addressing the battle of the Yellow Sea.
But for some reason, it doesn’t feel like a great victory to Yuusaku, nor to much of the people present today either.
With his head bowed down solemnly, Yuusaku stood next to mother at the back, together with many other quietly weeping women and children, their sobs choked and held back. There were also young children who looked confused wondering why the adults were crying- too young to understand as grief was still an unknown concept to them.
Seeing how the young kids had behaved in their ignorance, it reminded him of Otonoshin when he last saw him during Heinojou’s funeral just months before. Wouldn’t it be so much better if Otonoshin had been born much later? No one deserves to be familiar with that much sorrow when they’re still so young.
Perhaps it was because of the naivety of his young age, but all Yuusaku could think of during the funeral was: Why must it be Heinojou-san?
Heinojou was only person who truly cared for Yuusaku, why must it be him of all people? What does the most beautiful person ever did to deserve such a gruesome and tragic end?
Heinojou’s short life reminds him of the cherry blossoms in the spring- of how wonderful they are in full bloom, but gone in just a blink of an eye. His kindness must have touched many other people other than Yuusaku, and everyone would have remembered him with his ever present charming smile.
He was the most radiant of them all- it’s no wonder he had departed this world sooner than everyone else.
Once, Heinojou had visited him in Tokyo while his cruiser Kasagi was being anchored at Yokosuka naval base for repairs. He had stopped by for a short visit to the Hanazawa estate and spent the rest of the evening together with Yuusaku by the courtyard.
That day, Heinojou had expressed how honoured he was to have been chosen to be onboard the flagship Matsushima on his next dispatch. Finally a full-fledged officer, he was looking forward to learn more under the direct command of admiral Ito- an honourable fellow satsuma man, a distinguished commander from their same hometown.
It was supposed to be a joyful occasion for the both of them, and Yuusaku did felt genuinely happy for Heinojou about the good news. Heinojou had always been diligent in his studies, and it was a given that he would one day have a successful military career ahead of him, just as his father before him. But for some inexplicable reason, a tide of sadness suddenly washed over Yuusaku. It was as if something was telling him the peace and their time together is running out, like sand slipping through his fingers.
With his heart beating loudly against his chest, Yuusaku reached out to Heinojou, and as if whispering a taboo, he confessed his adoration to the man ten years older than him.
Realising what he had done, Yuusaku immediately let go of Heinojou, deeply ashamed of his foolish actions. When he noticed Heinojou’s lack of an answer, he gathered his courage and looked up to see the reaction on his face; and it was unlike any expression he had seen him wore before. Heinojou’s eyes were wide in surprise, and his fair skin was turning as red as a ripe persimmon.
In that moment, framed by the orange hues of the evening sky, Heinojou had looked quite adorable. He took a moment to find both his voice and words to give Yuusaku a reply while embarrassedly scratching the shortly cropped hair on his flustered nape.
Heinojou had accepted Yuusaku’s feelings then, and promised him that once Yuusaku had grown older, they would be together.
It was the last memory they had together, and it now serves as nothing but a painful remembrance for the love Yuusaku had lost.
Yuusaku knows Heinojou is now in a much better place together with other admirable warriors from the Boshin and the Seinan wars. He was, after all, a brave and fierce sailor who had dedicated his life protecting peace and his country.
Gazing up upon the grand haiden— the dark imperial seal standing out proudly against the white cloth, Yuusaku swore that he would once more return here in death.
They’re all the same military men, and it’s without a doubt that Yuusaku would also share the same fate as many other men before him once he grew older- exactly according to father’s carefully laid-out path for him.
He swore that one day, he too will join Heinojou and all the previous warriors enshrined here in Kudan.
•
When Yuusaku finally came to, it was as if he had just awoke from the most peaceful slumber.
The feeling of numbness accompanied by the cries of agony and the stench of rotting flesh and human excretions were now gone. Instead it was now replaced by a nostalgic, familiar smell of comfort from his childhood.
With bated breath, Yuusaku slowly opened his eyes.
Sat in front of him was Heinojou, complete in his crisp-white naval officer’s uniform, looking as perfect as the last time Yuusaku saw him- that evening under the ginko trees in the courtyard, orange skies painted behind him.
“Oh, Yuusaku- don, you’re finally awake,”
The sound of his name uttered through his gentle voice- thick with Kagoshima-ben that Yuusaku had so achingly missed. It was a voice that had been buried deep and was already moth-eaten in his memory. Being able to hear it again after all these years brought back a tsunami of feelings he had desperately tried to contain, flowing out like a flooding river, hitting him unbidden. It made Yuusaku burst into tears from the trepidation and joy.
Shocked upon seeing Yuusaku breaking down in front of him, Heinojou dropped the oar he was rowing and immediately reached out for Yuusaku. “Are you hurt?! What happened?!’ Heinojou panicked, unsure of what made Yuusaku suddenly so upset.
Despite Heinojou’s efforts to calm him down, the familiarity of the strong arms he remembers from his childhood enveloping around him again instead did the opposite effect and made Yuusaku clutch for him even more desperately, his sobs shaking both of their bodies harder. “I’m sorry… for making you worry, Heinojou-san… I’m not hurt… I’m not in pain,’ Yuusaku managed to choke out his words. My heart is just so full it’s bursting at its seams from being able to see you again.
Heinojou gave him a sad smile in reply, and continued holding him as tightly as he could as Yuusaku’s tears slowly subsided.
“Heinojou-san… did you remember what we promised each other before you went away?” Yuusaku started, his cheeks flushing as he wiped his tears on the back of his palm.
Heinojou shyly smiled before replying, “ I do,”
“I’m sorry it took me so long, but I have finally fulfilled our promise, I have finally come to be with you,”
“So you did, but… I had much preferred it if you came when you’re much older,” Heinojou softly replied, his handsome face twisting in melancholy looking at the boy who was once ten years younger than him, now looking like they share the same age.
How sad it is that they both ended sharing the same tragic end- death finding Yuusaku as early as it did for Heinojou.
“Yuusaku-don… you were still so young the last time I saw you… but now you’ve grown into such a strong and handsome man, you must know how proud I am of you,” Heinojou continued, his face beaming.
Upon hearing those words, warmth bloomed in Yuusaku’s chest. If this was a dream, Yuusaku wished that he would never wake up from it.
Gradually, Yuusaku started to take in the mystical scenery that surrounds them, and he notices that they were on a gently rocking wooden boat, crossing a delicately streaming river. The waters looked deep and dark, but gleaming bright at the same time, similar to mercury. When he looked upwards, he was greeted by a sea of stars- the clearest, most colourful constellations he’s ever seen. Both the skies and the waters seemingly holding the universe’s secrets, somewhat mirroring each other in this regard.
Whether it’s morning or night, he couldn’t tell- it’s as if the concept of time isn’t present in this realm. The peaceful sound of the eternally flowing water, to where it leads, nobody knows- all that was believed was that the river separates the land of living and the dead.
It needs to be said that for men of war, being able cross the enchanted river in peace was an extremely rare occurrence.
“You must notice by now where we are, don’t you Yuusaku-don?” Heinojou’s voice halting his train of thoughts.
Yuusaku nodded.
“Was it painful? For you?”
Yuusaku shook his head. “I didn’t feel a thing… I just- remember falling… Heinojou-san, what about you?”
“I’ve tried my hardest to, but it seems that I can’t remember anything at all,” Heinojou honestly answered.
But Yuusaku knew exactly what had occurred onboard the Matsushima that fateful day, and he swallowed back the painful thoughts from resurfacing. It was something the man opposite him must not come to learn.
“That… may be for the best,” is all Yuusaku could force himself to say on the matter.
Heinojou’s warm body against his touch, his beating heart, Yuusaku thinks it’s enough proof that Heinojou’s still alive- that they’re both alive.
“Heinojou-san… You can’t possibly know how long I’ve waited for this moment to come- if it could come at all… I miss you so… I have missed you more than you could ever imagine… ” Yuusaku confessed, his hands tightly gripping Heinojou’s, reassuring himself that he’s real, that he’s here with him.
Heinojou placed his free hand to the back of Yuusaku’s head, and gently pulling it closer until their foreheads touch. Their hands tightly locked together and they fit just right- like it’s meant to be.
“I’m here now, Yuusaku-don. It’s alright, everything is going to be alright now,” Heinojou murmured softly, just as he did back then in a faded memory from a summer many moons ago, when they shared the same futon under the mosquito net, as he chased Yuusaku’s nightmares away.
When their lips finally meet, Yuusaku felt fireworks exploding in his chest, his lungs so tight that it was getting harder to breathe, and the back of his eyes, already swollen from the tears earlier, have now become hot and wet again.
The exhilaration, happiness, and sadness on being able hold and to be held in the arms of the only person he loves- Yuusaku knows he’s finally back where he belongs.