Chapter Text
***
Somewhere far away, his comrades were still dying in action, and here Chuuya was, getting iced coffee in this god-forsaken desert. It seemed surreal to finally be back in Japan, where people spoke the same language as him, to walk along the streets of his hometown for the month he was on leave, to take off the bulletproof vest, finally. Not carrying a gun around would still be something he would get used to, and Chuuya already knew it would take him a long time. He felt naked without it.
He had just returned from two years abroad, where he was doing covert missions for the military, serving as a captain in the army. His job was murder, even if his bosses preferred to call it peacekeeping. Two long years of sleeping with his weapon in a hundred-degree heat, making sure scorpions did not crawl into his boots when he slept, sending his people to their deaths, saving them if he could. He got fresh soldiers, seasoned soldiers, old and young, and not even one left their small base in the mountains of Karone without a scar or a few bullet shots. Some left in body bags. Chuuya lost count of how many of his subordinates he sent home, coffins wrapped in flags.
When he got back home to his apartment in Tokyo, which was left to him by his uncle before he died, and unpacked, he realized he brought all the sand with him. The Karone Joint Forces Base - fancy name for a small outpost in the middle of nowhere - was surrounded by a desert. He had long stopped trying to get rid of the sand that got everywhere, and now it was on his laminate floor, too. Even a month later, at the new base deep in the countryside, he still had not gotten rid of it all – it was in his boots when he walked, scratched his palms at the gym when he touched the equipment, it was in his mouth, his eyes, even if the shower water ran clean.
“Iced latte for the red-headed captain, thank you!” announced a young barista girl with piercings and flower tattoos all over her hands as she smiled at him.
Chuuya looked at her, puzzled.
“How do you know I’m a captain? I’m in civies.”
The girl blushed slightly.
“Well, it’s just… You’re Captain Nakahara, right? It’s a small town, and we all hear about what happens on base. My brother works there; he told me they just got a war hero in. Sorry, was that too forward of me?”
“No, it’s fine. I’m not a hero, though. Far from it.”
The girl hesitated for a moment, as if she wanted to say something else, but then uttered the phrase that every soldier despised.
“Thank you for your service.”
Chuuya hasn’t met a single soldier who liked hearing that. Most felt like they didn’t deserve it, or that it wasn’t sincere. Why were people even thanking them? But, as he was taught at the Academy, public relations were important. He has memorized long ago how to respond to this sort of nonsense. It came out now, even without him thinking about it twice.
“Thank you for your support.”
Chuuya nodded to the girl and walked outside, inhaling the stuffy hot air with a whiff of melting asphalt. Another desert, but here the sand did not get into everything. Here, he just rented an apartment with AC, and this small town, Tagana, was not under fire every other week. Only when Chuuya turned around the corner to the now his only familiar street, where he had parked, did he notice the digits on the cup. The girl had left him his phone number.
Something else he missed, these casual encounters with people. Even if he had no desire to give the girl a call, it was nice to know he still got it; but her recognizing him just like that made him uneasy – he only got to Tagana yesterday, hasn’t even reported in, he was on his way to do it now. How many more people would know who he was before he’d even opened his mouth?
Getting on base was easy– he showed his ID to an MP upfront, who scanned it, and returned with a brief “Welcome, Captain.” For a second, Chuuya was worried that he would say something to him as well, but guys at the gates saw all kinds of people going through – majors, colonels, generals, even. A lowly captain would be of no interest to him. Nice.
He saw a brief text from his sponsor about where to meet him – behind the school building was an empty parking lot. When Chuuya parked again, his phone lit up with a caller ID “Capt. Tachihara.”
“Hey, Nakahara, is that your red convertible I see? Classy. Great wheels you got.”
Chuuya smiled, biting his lip a bit. Yes, his car was extremely nice. Not ideal for such hot weather, but he missed driving it in the two years he was gone. His late uncle’s gift.
“Yeah, that’s me. You’re up front?”
The knock on the window startled him.
“You can hang up now.”
Chuuya threw the car keys in his black cargo pants along with his phone and stepped out into the scorching heat, greeted by Tachihara’s grin.
“Welcome to Tagana Army Base, Captain Nakahara! I see you got coffee from that place I suggested?” Tachihara pointed to the latte in Chuuya’s hand, the ice half melted. “Oh, and looks like you got more than coffee!” He noticed the phone number. “From whom?”
Chuuya shrugged and followed Tachihara inside toward the much-needed cool air. He was already getting tired of this unwelcoming heat.
“Some barista girl. Nice tattoos. She recognized me.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?”
“Well, that’s probably Naomi, Tanizaki’s sister. He’s a sergeant under you. Would you mind… not calling her, Captain? I just… well… I’m sort of…”
“You don’t need to explain. I’m not looking for a relationship.”
Tachihara called the elevator, looking at Chuuya quizzically for a moment, giving him another one of those “want-to-say-something-else looks.” It was starting to annoy him. He was hoping it wouldn’t become a thing around here.
“By the way, just Chuuya is fine. We’re the same rank.”
“I’ll try, but you know how this whole last name thing gets to you. But you can call me Tachihara, and if you forget,” he smiled at pointed at his name tag on the uniform, “it’s right here.”
The elevator rang, announcing its arrival. Only now did Chuuya notice how empty the place was. A little odd, considering it was a weekday.
When they got to the office for in-processing, Tachihara unleashed a thousand questions while he was filling out the paperwork. Did Chuuya find a place to live? Were the conditions okay? Was there a parking space? Did he get a chance to look around the base? Around town? Did he check out that infamous nightclub the name of which Chuuya couldn’t remember? Had he met the colonel?
It was Tachihara’s job as his sponsor on the new base to make sure he was doing okay. Whenever you got to a new location, you were assigned a person of the same rank who would help you get set up, assist with the move, answer all your questions, and just be your friend, in a way. Most became friends, that is, although Chuuya had a few horrible sponsors in the past, who didn’t bother so much as to pick him up at the airport. Tachihara seemed different. Very pleasant and joyful, he cracked jokes every other sentence, talking nonstop. He told Chuuya everything he could about himself, too – he was stationed here for the last three years and loved it, the nightlife wasn’t much but could be fun if you knew where to look, and the colonel made sure his soldiers did not get their rut and heat time-off taken out from their leave time.
“Really?” Chuuya was puzzled. It was the colonel’s prerogative as the executive officer at Tagana Base, but still orthodox. “I would have thought it would have gone as convalescent leave.”
“Usually, yes. But Colonel Dazai thinks our cycles are not illnesses, so he just gives us time off for free. He’s awesome, not stuck up at all. Everyone adores him. He is well-respected, even if he is a little scary.”
“Why’s that?” Chuuya looked for a bin to throw his empty coffee cup into, but Tachihara just extended his hand to take it from him. There was a trash can under his desk.
“He’s just… reserved. He’s been here forever, did a lot of good things for this base. But after the divorce and that whole thing with his son…”
Chuuya knew better than to ask, but something about Tachihara’s demeanor made him want to know more. It always helped to have as much information on his boss as possible.
“What whole thing?”
Looking around, even though they were the only ones in the large third-floor office, Tachihara moved a bit closer and spoke in a deep voice.
“It’s something everyone knows, I guess, so you’re bound to find out eventually. Colonel has a son, Osamu, a gorgeous omega, but after some weird incident with one of the soldiers… well, nobody knows what happened, exactly. Colonel is very protective of him. From what I heard, his son got pregnant while cheating on his boyfriend, had an abortion, and then tried to kill himself. He spent a month in the inpatient clinic not far from here. Osamu used to party a lot, but these days he doesn’t leave the house much. You’re unlikely to see him anywhere but at the formal events.”
That was surprising to hear. In a way, he knew why Tachihara shared – this really was something that he would have found out eventually. But why would the troubles of a young omega be anyone's business? Why did anyone even care? Something about everyone knowing this story did not sit right with Chuuya. Down range, nobody would have given two flying fucks about something like that – they were all too busy dodging bullets.
“How old is this Osamu?”
“Around twenty, I think. So, pretty young. That whole story happened last year.”
Despite all the talking, Tachihara finished all the paperwork quickly. He showed Chuuya the classroom where he would be teaching, – his new position as the instructor on evasion and survival techniques theory was what brought him to this base, and gave him a brief tour of the building. Everywhere, like in the office, there were no people. When Chuuya finally asked where everybody was as they walked back to their cars, Tachihara looked at Chuuya funny, as if he said something stupid.
“It’s Independence Day? You know, a national holiday?”
Right. That thing.
“Oh.”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t know.”
“I knew, I just… forgot.”
Tachihara twirled his car keys on his index finger and leaned on his car. How on earth he could bear touching the vehicle in this weather was beyond Chuuya.
“You forgot Independence Day? You know you’re a Captain in the Japanese Army, right, Nakahara? Don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s hilarious.”
Maybe it was, but Chuuya didn’t feel like laughing.
“We didn’t celebrate anything in Karone. Couldn’t afford to.” Chuuya couldn’t help being a little condescending. “It’s a hot spot, as active duty as it gets. Ever been stationed in a place where you sleep in a vest?”
Tachihara clearly didn’t get that he was being talked down to, and if he did, he didn’t show it.
“I’ve never been abroad, man. Your last assignment was so cool, though. I would kill for a job like that.”
Chuuya bit his tongue not to reply to be careful what you wish for.
***
The first day felt like a blur. Chuuya knew that it would be weird getting back to teaching, but facing a classroom full of cadets, flesh-faced and with stars in their eyes, ready to serve their country, was like looking in a funny mirror that showed the past. He was one of them before he went to war, or “saw conflict,” as was a more palatable way of calling it. And now his back was covered in shrapnel wounds, and he saw more blood and human insides that was enough for several lifetimes. He dreamt of it sometimes, too. His therapist called it PTSD, but Chuuya disagreed - it meant that he was past his trauma now. Could that be if he lived it every night? And it was incredibly difficult to connect with people now.
Most of the cadets he taught were brand new lieutenants, fresh from the Academy at Tagana to complete their training. Chuuya remembered his days as a sergeant on special duty when he taught before he commissioned – a classroom full of unruly soldiers was not something he was looking forward to. But it was different here – cadets, like it or not, were not enlistees. These were the people who were going to dedicate their lives and careers to the military. Each one of them wanted to be there, and it showed. When Chuuya walked in, all three rows stood up to bow to him. During the lecture, all sat in silence and listened to his every word – nobody looked at their phones (which officers were allowed to have in the classrooms), nobody whispered anything. Chuuya liked their discipline.
His schedule from now on was to be a full day of work – start at 7 am, class with breaks until 11 am, then lunch break for an hour, then two or three more hours of instruction, depending on how much coursework they got through. All theory – he specifically requested not to be in charge of the practical part of the course, which was held on Fridays. So, he got only four days of work – a dream come true after being on the clock twenty-four seven for two years.
The first oddities began during the lunch break. Chuuya decided against going to the cafeteria downstairs – it would have been loud, and after talking without a pause for three hours, he wanted a break from human interaction. He brought his lunch with him – onigiri, seaweed salad, some sushi he made last night, and iced tea. Chuuya was here only for a week, and all his drinks were turning iced. Tachihara told him the despicable scorching furnace that was this weather would cool down after August would be over, and Chuuya was counting the days.
He was sitting behind the desk in his private office when he heard a knock at the door. Strange, nobody should know he was here.
“Come in,” he yelled, trying to swallow his sushi as quickly as possible.
The door screeched open, revealing a few cadets from his class. Chuuya wasn’t even sure why, but he noticed that all were alphas.
“Hey, Captain,” the tallest one of them said, smiling apologetically, “why are you here all alone? Could we join you, maybe?”
Chuuya huffed. Yeah, it was bound to happen; he just hoped it wouldn’t be this soon.
“You boys are here for some war stories, right?”
All five heads nodded like one.
“Well, not today. Let me settle in first, how about that?” He sat back down, reclining in his chair.
“Is it true you killed twenty people with your bare hands while in enemy territory?” A loud voice came from behind the group.
The group’s faces showed shock and embarrassment, but before Chuuya could answer, a raven-haired young man, somewhat too thin to be in the military, hit the one who spoke on the back of his head. Chuuya could see him now; it was a blond, young-looking kid. If Chuuya didn’t know he was already training to be an officer, he would not have given him past eighteen.
“Shut up, stupid Jinko! Don’t you have any manners?”
“Captain, we’re sorry. We’re leaving,” said the tallest one and closed the door behind him.
Something about the whole thing was even funny, but Chuuya was glad they didn’t insist. He did not feel like being the bad guy and telling off his students on the first day of class, and on his first day at this new job, either, but worse would have been to answer any of the invasive questions. It made sense that they all knew about him – the military newspapers have been writing about his “heroism” for over a month. Besides, nobody ever spoke about it, but everybody understood that there were two types of people in the military – the ones who saw death and the ones who did not. There was a major, almost palpable difference between the two.
Chuuya took out his notepad, which he always carried in his front pocket, and made a few notes: Akutagawa, aggressive, calls Nakajima “Jinko,” read the file. Although it’s only been half a day, he remembered most of his students’ names. This Akutagawa seemed incredibly quiet and reserved in his class, listened attentively, but whatever this was just now… Chuuya wanted to observe this behavior. It wasn’t even about rudeness itself – Nakajima needed to rely on his fellow classmate. It helped to know who they were – his job wasn’t just to make sure that they knew the material, but how to prepare each of them individually, how not to lose their lives. And more so, not to make his own mistakes in the past.
“Evasion and Escape,” what a funny name for a course. When Chuuya was offered this position, he accepted mainly because it meant being away from the front lines and going back home. It didn’t matter to him where they put him after Karone – all he wanted was some peace and a new environment, to get away from the war and murder, which became his daily life. He was supposed to teach a theoretical course on all the tactics he had learned, what to do if they are dropped in the middle of nowhere, and what to do if they are captured. But these were young officers. It was unlikely they’d see any action. That did not mean, however, that Chuuya was going to slack off on this job.
The rest of the day was relatively easy – he finished the last two hours with a lecture on how to make weapons out of anything. The students were excited to learn it, and Chuuya was counting on it. He wanted to make the course interesting. After he dismissed them to return to the dormitory (although most officer students lived in their own apartments), he was on his way out when Tachihara caught up to him in the hallway.
“Hey, Nakahara, wait up.” Tachihara was dressed in the same all-black uniform as Chuuya – pants, shirt, and jacket with captain insignia – it was almost civilian-looking. Nothing like what Chuuya was used to in the field. “How was your first day? Here, let me get it for you.”
Chuuya nodded and walked through the door opened for him.
“Alright, I guess. I like teaching officers.”
“You were an instructor before?”
“A long time ago, a few years in, when I was still a sergeant. My first special duty.”
Tachihara seemed surprised, even with the sunglasses.
“Really? How old are you? I thought you went to the Academy?”
“I commissioned. Didn’t start my military career as an officer. I’m twenty-seven.”
Now Tachihara stopped in the middle of the parking lot, waved to a few people standing by a white Toyota, and turned to Chuuya.
“Wow, so you’re the same age as me. I never would have guessed, you seem so…”
“Young? Yeah, I get that a lot.”
“I was going to say competent.” Smiled Tachihara. “Listen, we’re all headed to a bar later,” he pointed to his friends smoking not too far away in the shade of a lonely tree, “want to join us? Have you met anyone yet?”
A bar seemed like a good idea. Chuuya wouldn’t have minded making a few friends. Getting to a new duty station was always hard, but being completely isolated was a sure way to a psychiatrist appointment.
“I have a meeting with the Major right now to talk about my first day.”
“Now? We have to go to the Commander’s Call, remember? You’re coming, right?”
As if he had an option not to. The problem was that he completely forgot.
“Right. Where is it again?”
“At the Event Center. The Major will be there, I’m sure. Maybe he’ll introduce you to the Colonel.”
Chuuya shivered at the thought. He wasn’t antisocial, but meeting his boss so soon, before he even had the chance to settle in was unnerving. He also didn’t like that he forgot something so important. Commander’s Call was not something you could miss without a good reason. Maybe he should bring that up next time he sees his shrink.
“We’re going in the evening to that club I told you about. I’ll text you the address. Now, just follow me in the car. I’ll introduce you to the guys later.”
The Commander’s Call usually meant one thing – at the beginning of every quarter, the Colonel in charge of the base and his Command Chief led a quick ceremony, talking about what’s new on the base, the programs they were working on, announcing awards of merit, and introducing newcomers. Like Chuuya. Which meant he had to go two times. When he walked into the already full Event Center with Tachihara, however, he wanted to run away and hide – facing a crowd of people looking at him, thinking him a hero, was much worse than that one time he stepped onto a scorpion barefoot. Not all heads turned to him, but enough to make him uneasy.
Tachihara, on the other hand, looked like he was in his element. He greeted people they passed, waved at those who were too far away, all the while leading Chuuya to their squadron’s seats upfront by the stage. The Commander wasn’t here yet, so Tachihara used this opportunity to introduce Chuuya to Major Mori, their boss, who offered them to sit next to him.
So far so good, Chuuya thought as he gritted his teeth. Only a few minutes until the Colonel’s arrival, and he hoped nobody would notice him. Major and Tachihara tried asking him a few questions about his first day, which Chuuya gladly replied to – anything to distract himself from the rising anxiety inside.
Finally, a loud command at the door – room, tensh-hut! – and all thirty rows jumped up to the position of attention. The Colonel was here.
“At ease,” said the tall, muscular man with a mustache and a goatee as he walked to the podium, “how’s my favorite base doing?”
The crowd cheered something incoherent, yelling and screaming. Chuuya joined in, knowing it was expected of him, and then sat down with everyone.
“Settle down, everyone. I won’t keep you for long, I know you’re dying to get home or to those bars.” A few people chuckled in the back. “Let’s dive right in, so the first order of business – our new development complex…”
The Colonel spoke for half an hour, sometimes giving the floor to the Command Chief, who announced the winners of awards. Those who won some recognition walked up front to salute Colonel Dazai and to receive their plaques as the base photographer took pictures. The ceremony itself was pretty standard, but it shocked Chuuya what the awards here were given out for. The achievements were displayed on the screen above their heads, and it was all things like “helped cleaning up the base for over 200 hours,” “taught 700 hours of courses”, “developed a new program for Security Forces” … Nothing real, like saving a life or even making people’s lives on base easier. He supposed the award to the Housing Office Squadron wasn’t bad – the cadets and the soldiers needed a place to stay, and somebody had to manage it.
But everything felt like child’s play. Chuuya remembered how he felt during these ceremonies before he went to war, and it was nothing like he was feeling now – back then, it was all joy and excitement for his comrades, but now all he felt was disappointment and a growing gap between him and everyone here. Even if he tried, he couldn’t possibly take him seriously. He only hoped it didn’t show.
“Bored, are you?” Tachihara whispered with a smile. Ah. So, it did show. “Don’t worry, captain, it will be over soon. Next stop is introductions, and then they’ll let us go.”
Chuuya mumbled something to disprove that he was disappointed, but Tachihara wasn’t listening – he was already cheering on somebody from their squadron. Chuuya briefly wondered if he even knew any of these people, somewhat hating himself for the feelings that this ceremony brought up. It felt like a necessary farse, but farse nonetheless – how was he to make friends here? Connect with anyone?
As if in a queue, he heard the Colonel move on to the part that gave him the most concern.
“Alright, now let me introduce the newcomers. We do not have a long list this time around…” The Command Chief ran up to him with a sheet of paper. “Thank you. I hope you will forgive an old man for not remembering all the new names right away.”
Another roar of laughter. Chuuya was getting tired of it.
“When you hear your name, please stand up and say a few words about yourself.”
The Colonel started the introductions, naming each person one by one. Chuuya wondered if he did it every time – it seemed draining, but he supposed the Colonel was doing the same thing he did in class. It was easier to remember people this way. He was so lost in thought that he did not even notice that his name had not yet called.
“And, finally, I think all of you know the next name I will call. We all know him as the war hero of the Karone Freedom Operation, and now we are lucky to call him a member of our family. Chief will attest to how many strings I had to pull to get him to come here. Please, welcome our new instructor for the officer corps – Captain Nakahara Chuuya.”
“Dude, stand up!” Tachihara hissed and kicked Chuuya in the side.
Shit!
“Sir!” Chuuya jumped up instantly, feeling as if he had a bucket of cold water dumped on his head.
“Lost in thought, are we, Captain?”
Yet another roar of laughter. Well, at least it was not a big deal.
“Sorry, sir.”
“Come on up here, son.”
Fuck.
On wooden legs, Chuuya made his way to the podium, which thankfully was not too far from him, and felt a heavy, warm hand land on his shoulder.
“Some of you might wonder why I made all this effort to bring Captain Nakahara here,” Colonel said, facing the audience, and slightly turning Chuuya to look at them as well. “We are a student training base, so what is the need for a war hero, right? Captain Nakahara possesses unique combat experience, which is exactly what our cadets need. They need to see firsthand where this career might lead them. Captain, care to say a few words about it?”
No, he did not care to say a few words. In fact, he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole like some sort of Leviathan.
“Sure.” Chuuya took the Colonel’s place by the microphone at the podium, thinking instantly of the most basic thing he could say. He was not bad at public speaking, but being painted as a war hero in front of everyone… he didn’t feel like one, not after everything that happened. Not after all of his friends died, leaving him the only one who came back.
“I am very grateful for the opportunity, Colonel Dazai. Thanks for the warm welcome. I hope to get to know all of you much better in the coming months. I used to teach when I was a sergeant, so it is great to get back to it.”
That sounded like enough, right? People started applauding, and even if the Colonel looked like he was slightly disappointed, he also clapped his hands together to show appreciation. More empty farce, but right now Chuuya was grateful for it.
Before he could take his seat, Colonel whispered to him to stay a bit after the ceremony. The idea terrified him right now. Whatever did he want from him? Somebody like Colonel should know that Chuuya was deemed a war hero purely by accidentally surviving, right?
After the Commander’s Call was over, Chuuya did as he was told, briefly throwing to Tachihara that he was asked to stay. Before he could get a response, the Command Chief ran up to him and said to follow Colonel to the car – the base commander was always the first to leave, so Chuuya would not have to stay to talk to everyone. At least, there was that.
“Ah, Nakahara, let us go. I wanted to talk to you,” said the Colonel as Chuuya caught up to him by the exit and pushed the doors open, putting on his hat. “Do you like your new station?”
The man was almost two meters tall, so to Chuuya he looked like a giant, walking quickly as he did. He almost had to run not to fall behind.
“Yes, it’s great. I love the weather.”
Colonel laughed as he opened the car, motioning Chuuya to get in. Weird, but what was he going to do? Say no to his boss?
“I hate these public events, they always drain the life out of you, don’t they?” The colonel threw his hat at the console and started the truck. “Let me get out of here first, before all the new recruits start saluting the air.”
Chuuya could not help but chuckle. It was true, unfortunately. There was a rule to salute the staff car, but now the Colonel was driving his own. Unfortunately, many got so frightened at that moment, they saluted just in case.
“I probably scared you a bit, putting you on the spot like that.” The Colonel turned onto a small street, leading to the residential area on base. “But I meant what I said. I pulled all the strings I got to get you to come here. Oh, and don’t worry about Mori, he knows you’ve got a meeting with me.”
“He does?” Chuuya could not hide his surprise.
“It was the Major’s idea. He is a close friend of mine, and we both worked on getting you to come here. His meeting with you can wait; I wanted to meet with you first.”
“May I ask why, sir?”
The Colonel did not respond right away, turning to the giant two-story house with a patio and a garden. There was a garage, too.
“We’re here. This is where I live. You’ll remember it, right? I’ve heard wonderful things about your memory.”
“Yes. Although, sir, I’m lost…”
“I’ll explain everything inside. Wait for me by the door.”
More puzzles. Chuuya hated that he was not told everything, but after years in the military, he was used to it. The higher-ups did not have to explain themselves to their subordinates. Even when they borderline kidnapped them.
“Shoes,” said the Colonel after he opened the door and walked in, taking his boots off. “Osamu will kill me if I drag any dirt in.”
Right. Osamu. Now this was going to be a little weird. Chuuya was moderately curious about that whole thing Tachihara told him about today, even if it was none of his business.
If the house seemed huge from the outside, inside it appeared even larger. The first thing that Chuuya noticed was how much open space there was – you could ride a bicycle around the dining area, and the kitchen, visible from the front door, had an island. The Colonel started going upstairs, interrupting Chuuya’s looking around.
“Come on up. Do you drink?”
“Yes, sir.”
“We’ll have one in my office.”
Down the brightly lit corridor on the second floor was a mahogany door, leading to a cabinet where Colonel Dazai must have worked. Giant bookshelves, floor to ceiling, a mini bar, a couch, and two sofas in front of a journal table – Chuuya wanted to look around. It was the sort of lavish wealth of which he had only heard. Of course, officers made a lot of money, and the higher the ranking ladder you were, the more expensive your tastes got, but this? This seemed like something only a person born into money would set up.
As if reading Chuuya’s mind, Colonel threw, pouring them two glasses of whiskey:
“My ex-wife decorated the place. I was meaning to change it to something less extravagant, but… It’s only been three months.”
“Oh.”
“No need to be shy, I’m sure you’ve heard about it by now.” The Colonel offered a drink to Chuuya, motioned him to sit down on the couch, and dropped down to the sofa. He suddenly looked more tired than somebody of his rank could allow, if only for a second. Maybe it was the lighting, but Chuuya noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the creases that usually signaled the oncoming old age. But the Colonel was not old – he was in his fifties, maybe even late forties.
“Listen, Captain, I’m going to be frank – I wanted to talk to you ever since I heard of your existence. I’m sure you hate talking about your past, and I hate that I had to put you on the spot like that in there. But what you did in Karone… how many enemy soldiers did you take out?”
Chuuya cringed, feeling the oncoming anxiety attack. He really has not been through enough mandatory therapy sessions to talk about it yet.
“Around thirty. Forty, if you count the… the casualties.”
The agony of saying civilians burned on the tip of his tongue. Colonel noticed, he had to, because he took a sip of his drink, signaling Chuuya to do the same.
“I brought you here to teach those kids in your class what our job really means. What it could mean. Do you think any of them get it? What it's like, to kill a man? They all think it will be so easy – glory, battle scars, money, and free education, or whatever else they sign up for. And here and there we got them fanatics…” The Colonel almost scoffed when he said it. “The ones who are in it to serve their country. Those are usually the first ones to fold under pressure, in my experience.
Despite his prejudices, Chuuya was starting to like the man. He seemed like the first person who actually understood him since… well, since he left Karone Field Hospital and was transferred to Okinawa to have his injuries treated. Every single person has treated him like some sort of hero ever since then, and nothing he said made them stop. But the Colonel seemed different. Maybe because he has been through the same thing.
“I need you to tell them not just how to keep their sorry asses from being blown up on a land mine, but how to keep their sanity. I know you’re still fighting to hang onto yours – don’t look at me like that, Captain, I can see it clear as day. Still having nightmares, I bet?”
Chuuya gulped, nodding.
“Yes. Every night.”
“They’ll pass with time and a good doctor. Don’t be alone, either; that’s the trick. Have you got a family?”
“I’m sure you know that I don’t.”
“Fair enough. No prospect of a mate, either? Someone you’d want to bring here?”
Chuuya almost laughed. It wasn’t an uncommon question, even if slightly unprofessional.
“No, sir. Only my old comrades, but they are all over the world now. They really didn’t want to keep us together, it seems.”
The Colonel nodded and hummed, taking another sip.
“It’s important to have someone, you know. How about you come to dinner at my house next week? Maybe you’ll make some new friends.”
Chuuya was not an expert on how things are done at this base, but he was fairly sure commanders rarely extended such invitations to captains. But he was not in the habit of refusing such status gifts.
“I’d be honored, sir.”
“Oh, hush. Honored my ass.” Both laughed, Chuuya more out of obligation, but it was a little funny. “I want to show off my new captain-war-hero. Major Mori will be there, too. He’ll give you the details. And wear something nice, formal. But your own clothes, not that monkey suit they make us wear.”
“I’m sure I can find something. But sir.” Chuuya hesitated, wondering if he’d be overstepping, but decided that since Colonel could see right through him, it did not matter. “Are you actually inviting me to make some friends? I mean… It’s not like we can actually… I’m sure all your friends outrank me by a mile.”
And they are much older, he wanted to add.
“You’ll notice soon enough I do things differently from my colleagues,” the Colonel replied with a smile, and then turned his head to the door. “I hear shuffling in the kitchen. It’s either the maid or Osamu finally woke up. Let me walk you out.”
Woke up? It was late afternoon! Who was this kid, anyway? Didn’t he have school, or work, or something? Tachihara said the Colonel’s son barely left the house these days, but sleeping all day? That seemed incredibly odd. A tiny spark of concern for someone he does not know crawled inside Chuuya’s gentle heart, if only out of respect for the Colonel. But one other thing was true, as well – no matter what Chuuya pretended to be, he too was not immune to the anguished calls of curiosity.
“Osamu, is that you?” The Colonel called as he walked into the kitchen, waving at Chuuya to follow him. “I want you to meet someone.”
“Right now?” Chuuya heard a tired voice coming from a person whose head was stuck in the fridge, hiding him from view.
“Now, don’t be rude. Captain, I’d like to introduce you to my son. Osamu, come out from there; it will only take a second. This is Captain Nakahara Chuuya, the one I told you about.”
The fridge door closed quietly, revealing a tall, dark-haired young man holding a box of juice. Dressed in pajamas, he really looked like he had just woken up. Hair was a mess, but it adorned the gorgeous, sharp-jawed face – something that Chuuya hated himself for noticing instantly. He seemed too thin, with dark circles under his eyes, and an expression of boredom and annoyance painted his face. Another thing that struck Chuuya instantly was the bandages, peaking from under the short-sleeved shirt, wrapping the slender arms and the neck. Was he ill? Got into an accident? Or was it… something else?
“Dad...” Osamu sighed, sparing Chuuya a look. “Yes, nice to meet you, Captain whatever, my dad couldn’t shut up about you for the past months,” Chuuya muttered a hello, not knowing how to respond to such rudeness. “Can I go now? I have a game match with friends in a few minutes.”
A game. His father, the Colonel, was introducing him to a colleague, and he had a game? Chuuya tried not to get angry at this blatant disrespect and watched for the Colonel’s reaction. To Chuuya’s surprise, there was nothing but a faint smile.
“Yes, alright. I guess you’ll have more time to get acquainted. I’ve invited Captain for dinner with us next week.”
“Yes, yes, lovely, can’t wait…” Osamu muttered as he turned around and left the room, going upstairs.
Colonel sighed and turned to Chuuya, looking apologetic.
“Well. That’s my Osamu. I implore you to ignore his demeanor. He’s been having… a tough time on this base, and ever since his mother left, well…”
Chuuya felt bad for the Colonel, even though it was not his place for it. To have a kid act like that, the only person he was close with, as it seemed, and after the divorce… Chuuya has seen what that could do to a man like that. Destruction was too small a word to describe it. But it was not any of Chuuya’s business, even if he thought that he wouldn’t forget Dazai’s rudeness any time soon. He forced an easy smile and chuckled.
“It’s perfectly fine. I took no offense.”
“That’s good to hear. He is just… Ah, my apologies, nonetheless. He won’t be that way next week, I promise. Now, may I walk you out?”
There was a personal driver waiting downstairs to take Chuuya back to his car. After saying rather warm goodbyes to the Colonel and a reaffirmed promise to come to dinner, Chuuya finally glanced at his phone – several texts from Tachihara asking how being the star was treating him and a friendly demand to tell him everything later at the club. Then there was a message from the Major that their meeting could wait until tomorrow, and the details for the dinner next week. Already. That made Chuuya raise his eyebrows slightly. Somehow, it felt well coordinated, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it.
When he finally got home and took an exceedingly long shower, he crawled into bed with a volume of French poetry and a glass of wine, occasionally glancing at his phone with pain and guilt. He really did not want to go anywhere tonight, especially not to the loud nightclub and people with more questions for him. Socializing for an entire day and then the evening would make him feel like a squeezed lemon tomorrow. After some thought, he sent Tachihara an apology text, saying he was too tired today and that he would join them next time. If it may come. People in the military did not take warmly to those who dislike partying.