Seiji thought of the Japanese soldiers who’d spoken with such bravado before the American landing, only to surrender in an instant once the moment of truth arrived. Then he thought of the village men who didn’t resist even when their own women were being raped. They’re like dogs without balls. Well, not me! I’ll blow up these damn Americans with this grenade, and then kill some more with my harpoon. Sayoko! I swear I’ll get revenge!
Seiji peeked through the Garcinia trees in Sayoko’s yard and listened to the screams coming through the shuttered windows. He could also hear the cries of Sayoko’s younger sister and grandmother. Earlier, when Sayoko had returned home with her mother and the other girls, he could sense from her disheveled hair and lifeless expression that something horrible had happened, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask directly. So he had circled around to the back of her house and found a gap in the row of trees. Sayoko’s sobs pierced Seiji’s heart, the pain cutting into him like the thorns of a citrus tankan tree. His wounded heart, pumping with warm blood, cried, What happened? Why’s she crying like that? Unable to bear it any longer, he ran away. Under the banyan tree, by the house of worship, he saw a group of five or six men staring at Sayoko’s house in silence.
Seiji didn’t find out what had happened until that evening. The village men were repeating in hushed tones what they’d heard from Sayoko’s father. Standing outside the circle, Seiji strained his ears. As he listened, he pictured the Americans holding Sayoko down in the thicket with their brawny arms and covering her mouth with their filthy hands. Then he saw Sayoko, crying and struggling and suffering. Sweat broke out over his body, and he had to restrain himself from screaming. He swore to himself that he’d kill the four Americans that had swum across the passageway. Assuming the other village men felt the same way, he scrutinized their expressions. However, even though some spoke words of anger, no one made a call to action. All they could come up with was to station pairs of men at key points as lookouts and to forbid the women from going to the beach. Seiji could see that the men weren’t so much angry as emasculated by fear.
The villagers had relied on the Americans for canned goods, sweets, liquor, cigarettes, and the treatment of their wounds, and that’s why they’d started to grovel. Even those who’d been ranting about running the Americans through with their bamboo spears were now happy to talk to them. Was there any shame they wouldn’t endure in silence? Seiji began to boil over with rage. His face turned red, and he struggled to breathe. Turning his back on the men, he hurried down a deserted village road heading to the ocean.
At the beach, Seiji watched dark clouds move across the sky, block the moonlight, and cast shadows that ravaged the white waves and pure sand, only to then vanish into the night. The light, the shadows, and the waves seemed to be living things with wills of their own. Seiji was greatly disturbed. Glaring at the lights of the port, he again heard Sayoko’s heartbreaking cries. Grieving, he ran up the beach and plunged into a screwpine thicket. He heard the thorny leaves rustling overhead, and hermit crabs scurrying through the piles of dead leaves at his feet.
Then he heard the laughter of some Americans and footsteps coming up the beach. He picked up a piece of driftwood, hid among some nearby trees, and stared at the screwpine thicket. When an American approached, Seiji jumped out and brought the dry, white wood crashing down onto the man’s head. The force of the blow against the skull caused the driftwood to break in two. Seiji shifted the remaining piece in his hands and plunged the sharp point into the back of the soldier cowering at his feet. When the wood rebounded from the man’s ribs, Seiji swung down again and again, until finally, the American’s moaning grew faint. Scum like you can never be allowed to live! Seiji kept pounding until the wood was as small as his hand. Then he heard Sayoko whisper in his ear. That’s enough. You don’t need to suffer any more.
The moonlight filtering down into the darkness flickered with the rustling leaves of the trees and the roaring waves of the sea. Seiji struck the bottom of the cave with his fists and broke down sobbing at his own powerlessness.
—I’d do anything for her.
Sayoko was always so kind, his mother had said. Ever since she was a child, she was quiet and had a pure heart. And then she grew up into such a beauty. True to Seiji’s mother’s words, Sayoko had kindly protected Seiji when other children had bullied him. They entered school together, but as they moved up in grades, they had fewer opportunities to interact. Yet just like before, they exchanged smiles whenever they met. But everything changed when they were in the fifth grade. One day, Seiji was cutting grass for the goats. Nearby, several girls were collecting firewood, Sayoko among them. Her presence weighed on Seiji’s mind, so he averted his eyes. Suddenly, someone knocked him down from behind. Before he realized what had happened, three boys jumped on top of him, held down his arms, and plucked his sickle from his hand. Oh, no! he thought, another practical joke! From experience, he knew that
