—Mom! Mom! Mom!
When he regained consciousness, Seiji found himself buried up to his waist in sand. All traces of the screwpine thicket had vanished. The larger trees on the western edge of the sandy beach were now half their previous height. Smoke rose up from the charred remains into the clear blue sky. As he stared blankly at the scene, he realized that the ringing in his ears was actually coming from nearby. He looked over and saw innumerable flies swarming around some objects scattered on the ground. When it dawned on him that they were Ōshiro’s remains, Seiji collapsed on his back in the sand. As the sky suddenly turned dark, he muttered:
—I guess I’ll be dying soon, too.
He pictured Sayoko looking down with tears in her eyes. You’d cry over someone like me? Seiji gritted his teeth. His fingers crawled through the sand and picked up a grenade lying on the ground. He took a long time to get up.
—I’m not going to die. I’m not going to die. For Sayoko, I have to live.
His voice echoed through the cave.
Where am I now? he wondered. Wounded soldiers on cots were moaning with pain and resentment, pushing the stiflingly hot tent to the breaking point. Through the jumble of voices, Seiji heard a foreign one moving toward him, and then sensed a presence hovering over his bed. When he opened his eyes, he saw a pale face with colorless eyes, eyebrows, and skin. Seiji couldn’t even move the finger that had been on the grenade pin. Nor could he refuse the water held to his lips and then poured down his throat. Against his own will, his feverish body craved more and more. The white face with goat eyes smiled and offered him his fill. Yes, I was saved by the Americans, Seiji thought.
He was treated for his wounds for over a month. At first, he had refused to eat, until the Japanese soldier next to him screamed:
—Eat, you fool!
When he finally forced himself to eat something, he was surprised by how good it tasted. The nourishment in the canned meat and beans healed his wounds so quickly that he could practically see his flesh repairing itself. By the time he could stand up and walk, he felt something like gratitude toward the Americans who’d nursed him back to health. Upon his release, he was temporarily sent to the camp area for Japanese soldiers, but he was soon relocated to the area for those from his village. There, he was reunited with his parents and siblings. But mixed with the joy was confusion over having been helped by the Americans. Even after returning to the village, he couldn’t resolve the conflicting emotions, the hatred instilled in him earlier and the gratitude he felt later.
Is the war over? What happened to the Emperor? He doubted that anyone in the village could answer his questions, but when he saw the US military transport ships moving in and out of the port on the opposite bank, and the soldiers busy at work there, he knew the answer. The war isn’t over. It’s being fought elsewhere. However, the Japanese soldiers had just sat on the ground like cowards, begging the American soldiers for cigarettes with obsequious smiles. When their weapons had been taken away, they hadn’t shown an inkling of having the guts to fight. If they’d fight, I’d fight, too, Seiji thought. But the opportunity never arose, and he had to worry about getting food to live. His sabani boat had been commandeered by the Japanese army and destroyed in the bombing, so he worked the shallows along the coral reefs instead. He stayed busy catching shellfish, octopuses, and fish, and also plowing the long-neglected fields.
One day, Seiji went deep into the woods and entered a cave abandoned by the Japanese army. He was hoping to find a tool or anything that might be of use. What he found instead was a hand grenade lying in the shadow of a rock. It was a bit rusty but looked usable, so he wrapped it in a towel, located a dry part of the cave, and put the parcel in an opening in the wall. Then he covered the opening with a flat stone.
Now, after removing the lid, pulling out the lump of cold metal, and holding the object to the light, Seiji understood. Ah, that’s why. This grenade was left for me to avenge the deaths of those killed by the Americans. The heaviness in his hand gave him confidence. I will get revenge without fail, he swore. Even if I’m the only one, I’ll never forgive them. He heard some Americans laughing at him, while a woman screamed in the background.
How can you just stand there watching as a girl from your village is being raped? How? His words got stuck in his throat and echoed inside his head. The woman’s screams sliced through Seiji’s flesh like a razor and chipped away at the exposed bone. The two Americans next to the jeep turned their rifles on the men and laughed when they cringed in fear. When the three Americans came out of the house, they changed places with the men at the jeep. Stripped to the waist, they stood talking and
