You ever watched a video about a guy getting the absolute wind knocked outta him and think to yourself, Ha! What a dumbass!?
Well I have, and I can tell you that I've never imagined, nor even placed myself in a situation that is similar to the one that I have just mentioned. Nor will I ever want to, but it seems that god seems to have it out for me.
For you see, the very scenario that you would see occasionally whenever you browse the web on sites like Nico Nico, is happening to me right this very instant.
My breath? The air in my lunges knocked right outta me.
Pain? My entire body seems to feel like it's being absolutely fucking wailed on by a thousand guys right now. Hell, I'm pretty sure that all of my ribs got cracked, no, obliterated the very moment the scrap ball of a robot hit me.
I saw my entire life flash right before my eyes, my sis, my mother, everyone. And just for the briefest seconds, I thought that I was finally about to join them...Until my body hit the rest of the surface of my surroundings full force. Forcibly bringing me out of my delusions as the pain continued to get stronger and unbearable.
Hrmhp!
...Shit. What is this huh? A Saturday morning drama? Why am I coughing out blood? This is just getting absurd!
… My hand is stained crimson with my own blood, warm, sticky blood, the thing that keeps me alive..Is now seemingly spilling out of my body in droves, like a dam broken. My leg is still bleeding from the pistol shot moments before, and my previous injury before that is starting to open up once more.
It..hurts.
It hurts so fucking much.
I can't breathe.
I can't see clearly, everything is blurry.
And that ringing in the background is starting to get fucking annoying. I can't even hear my own thoughts in my mind as I'm struggling to do even the most basic task of getting air into my body.
Is..Is this what it means to die?
Absolute torture?
Because if it is, then I would have preferred that psychopathic bastard that shot me just moments ago shoot me in the head instead.
For I sure as hell cannot bear this!
No, I will not!
Through all the haze and blur I make out the figure of that scrap ball piece of junk. Through all the pain and blood and chaos, I grit my teeth and pull out my pistol. And through it all, I managed to pull the damn trigger.
BAM.
…
The ringing still continued as the bullet left the chamber of the pistol, still not ceasing at all whatsoever.
The recoil reminded me that I was still alive. As the pistol jerked my elbow somewhat, slightly messing with my aim. No matter, it's an absurdly huge thing, I need not even aim, as long as I know it's direction, then that's all that matters.
With a trembling finger, I pull the trigger again...and again and again and again. Till there was no more to be had.
Click.
Shit.
That was my last magazine.
…
Whatever. I toss it. In the general direction of the scrap metal piece of junk. Normally I would curse, scream, yell, but I don't have in me anymore to so much as even utter a single sound. Hell, just tossing the damn pistol hurts like hell.
…
The reverberations of the ground tells me that it's coming towards me. Slowly but surely. And it's not like I can do anything. What am I going to do? Move? Not in my current condition I'm not. All I can really hope is that my death is swift so I don't have to deal with this shit anymore.
...
So, I'm really gonna die here aren't I?
Deaf, tired, hurt, blind and alone?
...You know, something tells me that I was going to end up deaf, tired, hurt blind and alone even if I never found myself in this sick and twisted situation here anyways.
It's even more sad and pathetic that I'm not panicking. I knew that this was going to happen, I knew it a long time ago. That one of these days? Hikigaya Hachiman is gonna die on the battlefield. After all, what goes around comes around eh?
I just denied the obvious truth. Because well, I wanted so desperately to cling on to that tiny, yet bright and warm lie, a hope that I would go home.
Heh, So I guess on my deathbed the truth comes flowing out huh? Though I wouldn't call it a bed, more like a fucking a haystack made up entirely of needles. Poisoned needles that don't give you a quick death, oh no. I'm talking about the tortuous kind, the kind you give to someone you REALLY hate.
I've killed so much that it's only acceptable for it to happen to me.
I don't feel fear, I don't...feel anything really. I just feel...tired, tired and battered as all hell.
"...I just...I just wanted to go home…" I can't help but utter out weakly, not caring about anything anymore. So what if I just spoke in my native tongue? It's not like the robot will care, and nobody's here anyways, I'm gonna die alone, and miserable.
Hah, I don't even care anymore. I have a shit ton of regrets, a shit ton of things I couldn't do, could do. But that doesn't matter any more. It never fucking mattered. I was dead before I even knew it…
Thump
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sounds of gunfire rang deep and sharp throughout the valley of that shitty valley, that accursed valley known as Panjishir. It was so absurd really, insane, crazy, psychotic, all the words that you would use to describe something so illogical.
Despite how well fortified it is, how strong the men were, despite the insane amount of morale that the defenders had, it never really mattered in the end. So many times, so many damn times they would attack. And attack and attack and attack! Over and over again! For something so petty, so small, over a fucking valley!
It's exhausting really. When will these damn Soviets learn that some things just aren't worth it? That this was madness? That they're sending men off to die? Life was already short enough, shorter with the bull shit that was called society, So why? Why are they so...so insane?
The ringing in my ears did nothing to me as I remained in my daze, a result from a nearby explosion. Everything seemed so.. Muffled, so blurry, so...psychotic.
Ah. Shit.
What appeared before my very eyes was a deeply concerning sight. A Helicopter, a Russian Hind to be exact. A rather large pain in the ass to deal with, but something I had to deal with on the daily nevertheless. Now, where was that damn rocket launcher?
Looking at the ground before me, I can't seem to find nothing but corpses and soon to be corpses. No rocket launchers, hell no rifles either, the only thing that was even within reach was a fucking musket.
.. Fuck. Well, whatever. It'll do. No like I was gonna take down the damn thing anyways. But I reckon I'll feel better if I at the very least shot at it once in my life eh?
Slowly, still in that daze of mine, I pick it up, wasting no time to enjoy the numerous grooves and decorations it has, I just merely put it against my shoulder, aimed at the Russian hind head on, and pulled the trigger.
BAM.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"...Like I said...Man...vital….interests!"
"...Guy...the...bed...vital to my interests!..."
"This...US...you stay...of it!"
"Go...suck...tailpipe!"
The loud conversation of the individuals in the room shook me out of my...dream? Nightmare? Or would it be much more appropriate to call it a recollection, one of the many dreadful, terrible snippets of my time with those…"Freedom fighters"
...This is a surprise...I'm not dead… Well, not yet at least. No, there are much more pressing matters here. Like, who the hell the people in this room are. I don't know any of them judging by the sound of their voice alone, and I'm much too cautious to care. Wouldn't want to end up with more bullet holes in my already oh so frail body.
Great, what do I do?
Get up? No.
Play dead? Wait it out and try to get some tidbits of information here and there by pretending to be asleep? Much more preferable.
As the voices in the background continue to bicker on and on and on again, I finally find it, the drowsiness necessary to sleep, if not then at the very least nap then. My eyes, already heavy, start to get even heavier as a gentle sway is felt, and soon? I go once more to the abyss.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"So tell me, what's your homeland like?" Johnny asked with his back across the wall, lazing around behind his cell as I sat seated on a chair at the table nearby him in this small fixed enclosure.
"...Well, if I had to say...then it is peaceful. The people are busy with work, and the kids go to school."
"...Uh, dude. You just described basically all of america. Come on, tell me more about Japan!" Johnny exclaimed excitedly as I could only inwardly groan.
"...Well, before you ask, No. Samurai no longer exist. Japan is boring. The adults work themselves to death...literally. Either from exhaustion and or suicide...What else, oh. The banks are really hard to deal with, and-"
"Alright, alright! I get it! No need to continue anymore, sheesh!"
"..."
"..."
An awkward pause lingered in the air as we both sat affixed in our positions silently, not knowing what to say. And afraid of offending the other by saying something that need not be said. Johnny's silence was normal. Afterall, he was still technically my foe and I his. We're not close, we're friends, if anything we're acquaintances and that was reaching it a bit.
Sigh.
"There is a season called the cherry viewing season. It's when the Sakura tree blossoms into full bloom, and it's cherry pink petals fall in the air...It is... beautiful. It's a pain in the...what do you say?...Ass, to reserve a spot to sit and witness it, but it is beautiful nonetheless."
The expression on Jonny's face seemingly softened as a small smile bloomed on his face.
"Sounds nice."
"Another thing about Japan that is nice is the festivals. There are so many that I can't exactly keep count. The ladies also come to the festivals in traditional attire as well, it is called a kimono by the way. Pretty cute looking."
"Whew! Looks like you're getting better at english! Look at you, talking my ear off!."
"...Do you not want to know about my home Japan?" I ask with a scowl, mixed with embarrassment and annoyance as I try to stop any flush in my cheeks.
"Woah there! No need for the scowl! I'm just complimenting you for real! You have a talent for catching up on things quickly, you know?"
"...catching up...quickly?"
"It's a saying. It means that you're smart."
"...Why not say that I am smart?"
"Man I don't know! I'm just a city kid from downtown Manhattan, do I look like a scholar?"
"...What is a scholar?"
"A person who learns many things and knows even more."
"Somebody smart then?"
"Man, you are really snarky sometimes you know that?"
"What is snarky?"
"Snark is-...you know what? Nevermind!" Johnny said in exasperation as I hid a slight, small chuckle. It's the little things you know? The little things that make this miserable life of mine so bearable.
"...Anyways, tell me, what else is there in Japan?"
"...What else?.. Well, there is Anime and Manga…"
"..What? Anime...Mango?"
"No! Anime and Manga. Japanese Cartoons and comics."
"Oh! Like Charlie Brown and Spiderman?"
"...I do not know what charlie brown is. But I know Spiderman. And I like Spiderman."
"Oh? Japan has spiderman?"
"Yes. Sony bought-" Ah crap, that was close. Almost slipped up there.
"...Sony? What the hell is sony?"
"...Sony...Is like...a...Fan Publisher!...Fan Publisher! Sony Fan publishes Spiderman!"
"Ah, I see. That's pretty neat. American media is being enjoyed somewhere so far away like Japan."
"Say, do you also have marvel?"
"Marvel? Ah! Marvel? Yes I do. I love Hulk, Ironman, Thor, Captain america. Marvel number one! Avengers number one!" I say with two thumbs up, the fonder memories now flooding into my mind as I can't help but bear a small smile.
"That's pretty cool! Do you have any other American media over there in Japan?"
"Well...I like King of the hill."
"King of the what?"
"You would not know it, it is...pretty new."
"Ah, I see."
With a soft sigh, I take out a cigarette, Light it, and take a short drag. Not paying any attention to the smoke that I now exhale as I lean back against my chair, immersing myself in the days gone by wistfully as I look at the cave's natural made wall.
"...Say, You love Japanese girl..right?" I ask lazily with my back still leaned against the chair, my fishy, glazed liked eyes never leaving the wall as I ask him the question.
"Wha-what? Where did that come from?" He asks in confusion and embarrassment, geez, I'm not looking at him and I can still see the crimson flush on his face bright as day.
"Nothing really, I am just...curious is the word right?"
"...Sigh. Yes, curious is the correct word to use in this context. But still, you can't just spring that up on me man! Asking a guy if he loves a girl? I don't know how you do it in Japan, but we don't just say we love a girl, we say we like them!"
"...Ah! No, no. We have those types of things in Japan as well."
"...Say, I have a question for you."
"...What is it?"
A pause, pursed lips from Johhny as he rested his head against the stone wall of his cell.
"What does Han mean?"
"...What?"
"No, you see, The girl I like, she always calls people han. I'm no expert, but I know that Japanese people normally say San, right?"
"Ah, Kansai!"
"...Kan-what? Kansas?"
"No, No. She is from Kansai."
"...She's Japanese though."
"...Think more of it like this… I..am from Kanto, She is from Kansai..Think of it like, states? You have New York in the east, and California in the west. Like that...Kind of."
"...And? Where are you going with this?"
"From where she's from, she speaks the...accent? It is called Kansai ben."
"...Do you have an accent?"
"...Yes. Everybody has an accent."
"Hah! Look at you! You probably speak like a hick from the boonies in Japanese!"
Just then, a thought. An ephimpany if you will. It was such a small, yet important thing really. Accents. I can't speak Russian fluently, and I'm bound to have an accent whenever I speak it. But, what if? Just what if? I could fake an accent? From the countryside or some place? That would give me an alibi…. I'm a fucking genius!
"...."
"..."
Several moments passed in silence before a sound was played.
"Ahem!" Jonny coughed awkwardly, some nervousness apparent in his strained, forced cough.
"...I do not know what Hick and Boonie mean. Buto I ass you, my Japanese is norman and noty weed."
"...Hah! Your English completely falls apart when you get flustered! You do speak Japanese weirdly!"
"Urusai Baka-"
"Look at you! You're so flustered, you can't even speak English correctly anymore!" He said with a small chuckle. Clearly enjoying the situation.
"...Sigh."
"...Say, this Kansai girl you love-"
"Like!"
"...yes, this Kansai girl that you love. Do you want to know how to confess to her?"
"What? Like in japanese?"
"..Sigh, yes in Japanese."
"Sure-"
"But."
"There it is, what's the catch dude?"
"You speak Russian right?"
"Do you speak fluently?"
Scoff.
"Would I be in the Red army if I couldn't?"
"Point taken."
"So, where are you going with this?"
I take a pause, formulate the words in my mind as I look at him, my cigarette still burning all the same as I begin to speak.
"Is there a Russian accent where it is clear you are from the countryside for example? Where the words are shortened and mixed? One in which someone who does not speak Russian, can use and get away with?"
"...You want me. To teach you how to speak like a hillbilly?"
"...Yes."
"...Well, whatever floats your boat I guess?"
"...Neat."
"Man, I said this before but you pick up on things really freaking quickly you know?"
"Thank you. Now, For love, you say daisuki. For like. You say Suki Yannen."
"Uh, you just said the same word twice."
"It's a different language. Be patient...."
Just you wait you bastard, You're gonna be so embarrassed when you say you love her in a Kansai accent! She'll totally slap you and say that you're super gross!...At least that would be the normal reaction to me if I tried to pull off something like that! Anyways, that's what you get for teasing me! You're gonna be so Embarrassed!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The creeping artillery barrages neared ever closer down along the line as I crouched and ran down the makeshift trenches. I always hated those damn things. Artillery barrages. You hear them oh so distinctly whenever they land nearby. And your heart rate seems to dramatically drop as you hear the incoming shells being lobbed at you in a high velocity, something in your mind telling you, screaming and yelling for you to either get down and find some fucking cover, or to accept your death, because your fucking dead.
It's also pretty fucking loud as well. I hate that, I really really fucking hate how loud it is.
Another thing I also hate is fighting for my fucking life. But that can also be applied to fighting as well, but hear I fucking am. Fighting. Gripping my shitty lee en field tight, I keep my head low and eyes to the ground as I run to where the asshole squad leader "Told" me to go. If shoving a pistol to my head and pointing at the vague area and yelling the Farsi word for, (Which I found out pretty fucking quickly) Attack, was telling me where to go then, yes I do suppose he "told" me to go attack this part of the line.
All around me assholes are pushing against me in the opposite way for some reason. But I don't know why, hell I can't even properly. The artillery keeps on raining, and as long as it keeps on raining, then I'm going to keep running. If I stay in spot, then bam, I'm fucking dead. And I'd rather not be fucking dead thank you very much.
Turning the corner, I spotted an enemy Soviet. Within the second my rifle was fired, and the young man slumped to the ground dead as can be. Without a second thought, I ran over his body and took cover behind yet another corner. I didn't need evnen need to risk my life and peek, the urrah's and russian cursing told me everything. Numbly, I take out a molotov cocktail that I was saving on for occasions just like this, I light it and simply toss it.
The sounds of flame and screams of the enemy told me that I struck home. Pulling the bolt back, the spent shell popped out of the rifle as I forced the bolt forward, replacing the spent shell with a live, fresh new bullet, ready to kill yet even more people.
Turning the corner, I aim down the sights and spot another batch of enemy soldiers through the now dying alcoholic flames. Great four enemies. Taking a fast knee, I fired like hell for what seemed to be a minute, Pulling the trigger, seeing the first man drop and the others looking around confusingly. Killing the second man. Then the third man as soon as he broke out of his daze and raised his akm at me. And dropped to the ground as soon as the final man started shooting at me. Killing him as well.
Not even taking a breath, I rummage through my pockets.Looking for another 5 round clip of lee enfield ammo. Two seconds. Nothing. Five seconds. Nothing. Fuck. I'm really going to have to fight with five bullet's left? Really? Sigh, No time complaining. Taking another quick glance at the small narrow, trench line in front of me, I ran after seeing no more enemies. Tossing the lee enfield, I pick up the akm, and loot the 4 dead bodies in record speed. All while that damned artillery kept on raining on my position, splashing quite a bit of dirt and other shit all over the damn place.
Pulling back the charging handle of the akm after inserting a new mag in. I do something something very stupid. I peer over the top of the trench. And seeing something very interesting, I see what seems to be a very high ranking officer. Along with a couple other guys with him.... Jesus! There seemed to be like five squads here! Wasting no time, I peer over once again, and fired my akm at them.
The first burst got all of the important looking guys. The second burst got a couple of guys. The third burst kept them down behind cover. And the fourth burst followed after I threw my final grenade. Killing a couple of guys as they desperately ran out of cover to avoid the small explosive. The fifth burst unfortunately was against a group of enemies trying to flank from my left. Killing all of them, I can't help but let out a small growl as I ran out bullets. Desperately fumbling around in my pockets I just managed to get the magazine into the akm when an enemy got the jump on me.
BAM.
A second later he was dead. And what followed were screams and shouting in farsi as the position was suddenly reinforced by a shit ton of guys. All shouting battle cries as the soviets seemed to pull back. Speechless, I just stood there.
Shocked at the sight that I had just witnessed. I could have died right then and there. My charging handle was nowhere in my hands. I...had no control over the situation at all. If the rest of the men hadn't come right then and there? I would have been shot, and died. Nothing would have changed that.
One of the men came towards me and gave my shoulder a pat. For some reason, he started shouting in farsi. I didn't know what he was saying, and I didn't care. I was overwhelmed with my mortality to even pay attention. Only when they took my hand and raised it, then I broke out of my trance.
I could only look in confusion and befuddlement as I looked at the rest of the men, all of them chanting one word.
They chanted the stupid ass title given to me from the last battle.
They chanted the name that I had "earned" from shooting that damned hind a week ago.
They chanted it with fervor and pride.
They chanted all so annoyingly and irritatingly.
They chanted the Beast.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The shaking of the room woke me up. As nauseous as I was, I managed to keep my eyes shut, and stop myself from gagging and even making noise. I breathed shallowly as I strained my eyes for any sound, any movement in the room. Hearing nothing,I forced myself painfully to sit straight on the bed that I laid upon.
Wincing, I look down on my body, for a quick check. Great. Bandages, Somebody bandaged me up, that means that they shouldn't be hostile?... Maybe? I've not a single goddamn clue. Sigh, at least I'm still wearing my goddamn pants. I don't see a shirt or blouse, So i'll just have to make do without.
Groaning softly, I get off the bed and just barely remain standing. My whole body felt like shit. Meaning that it hurt. As I stood there, softly cursing at my banged up body, I heard a simple sentence uttered out.
"Ave Maria!"
Turning around quickly, I see a young boy, possibly eleven or twelve, with blonde hair and blue eyes.
Oof!
A sharp pain, followed as I staggered back towards the bed.
I see him start to say something. No, that can't happen. I won't let him say anything.
"Ssh. Please...Quite!" I mutter quietly, grinding my teeth through the pain as I put my index finger on my lips.
A second goes by.
Then another.
And another.
A sigh managed to escape my lips as I sat on the bed in relief. The boy looked at me at the entire time nervously as I breathed a little bit.
"...Do you know...where we are?" I asked slowly and hesitantly, Not wanting to spook the boy anymore that I already had.
"..We...we are on the Black Lagoon. A boat owned by the lagoon company."
"...American?" I ask hesitantly. There were too many questions, too many things that I didn't know. Like for one, Did the Americans extract me? And how? What the bloody hell does this boy have to do with them anyways?
"Yes, The black lagoon company is mostly American."
"..And, you are?"
"I am Garcia, Fernando Lovelace, of the Lovelace family...one of the...One of the 13 prominent families of South America!" He says whilst clenching his fists, a look of fierceness as he says it.
"...Well then Garcia. Do you know where we are going?"
"We're going to rob-..." He cut himself off. That is bad.
"We're going to the location of my maid. Roberta."
"..."
Wut?
What the hell even is this?
"...Your maid? You managed to convince the Americans to track down your maid for you?" I ask in a deadpan tone, clearly not amused by this stipud ass situation.
"Yes!"
"And do you know why I'm here?" I ask tiredly, not expecting any useful information out of this kid.
"...Well, not really no."
"...Pardon?"
"It's true! I don't know who you are exactly! All I know is that a big explosion happened. I think I saw a giant ball robot or something, Then you were there. Revy almost got shot but you just bumbled your way into the firefight and killed the guy who would have shot her! And then you muttered what I think is Japanese. Then Revy saved you and then!-"
"Ok. Time to...what is the word?... Yes. Pause." I cut him off. Confused as all hell with what he was saying.
"You..saw me. With a giant robot?" I ask deliberately slowly. Watching his anxious and nervous eyes carefully as he nodded to everything I asked him.
"And...did you see where the robot ran off too?" I asked him nervously, sweat dripping from my face now as I one thought went through my mind.
I fucked up.
It shouldn't even be my fault really, but I fucked up. And now that absurd piece of junk is reining free god knows where.
"No. it was really chaotic. I don't think anybody knew where it went. It was really chaotic."
"..."
"..."
"...Kuso!" I groan out frustratingly.
"...Um mister?"
"What?"
"What does that word mean?"
"You're too young to know kiddo."
"Then… What are you going to do now?"
"..."
"Where is your maid exactly?"
"Well I, I don't know where exactly...but I do know that we should be approaching soon!"
"Do you at least know where we are?"
"What do you mean?"
"Kabul? Bagram? Charikar? Are we near those cities?...Nevermind, what river are we in currently?"
"...Uh, what are you talking about mister?"
"Our current location! That robot is important...no matter how useless it is. I must tell the Americans it is loose and link up with Pavlovna."
"..." The boy looks at me with unease as I can't help but have a scowl on my face.
"What the hell are they thinking anyways? Having a kid like you in Afghanistan of all places?" I mutter in disdain as I try to desperately link the pieces together in my head.
"Um sir?"
"What?" I ask sharply, eager for more information.
"We're off the coast of Thailand, Roanapur."
"...What?"
"And are you sure that you want to meet up with the Americans? I think they want to harm you."
"What?"
"Yeah, they were all like The beast is of important vital interest to the US military! They said that if they can't detain you and send you to the US, then they were to shoot you on sight!"
"..." I say nothing as I can't help but be shocked at this new found information. WHAT. THE . HELL. IS. GOING. ON?
"Ah!...I'm...sorry. It's just that...This? This whole situation? It just feels very unreal, like it belongs in a novel. Just...You, appearing out of nowhere with a robot? It's a strange feeling. I'm just...overwhelmingly curious about it all."
"...I need a smoke." I finally manage to utter out throughout the confusion and the daze.
"I need a smoke." I repeat once more, this time exhausted as I let out a sigh.
I am "This" close to having a total fucking break down right now. "This" close. But I can't. If I have a breakdown then I'm dead. I have to keep thinking, I have to keep planning...But...It's super fucking hard. Hell, it's a damn miracle that I'm not even tearing up right now. It's just...so hard.
"I...I can ask Rock for one. He always seems to have a smoke."
"..Garcia...Right?" I managed to ask.
"Y-yes?"
"How many Americans are there on this boat that wish to kill me?"
"...Uh, a small group. Why?"
"...Okay kid. Thank you for telling me this.Thank you very much." I say as I begin to formulate a plan of action, while also patting his head in the process, ruffling his hair to confirm to myself that yes this is indeed real and not a fucking dream.
"...You're a weird one mister."
"..So I am told."
"So I am told." I repeated emptily once more. Already dreading the future that is coming for me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"...So...Mister?" The face of a fellow asian looked at me with curiosity as he so obviously studied my face, looking for..I don't know, something I guess.
"You can call me John smith."
"..." A frown, he's obviously refusing to buy it.
"...I am told that you are Japanese…" He said, hoping to dig something out of me.
"And who told you that?" I ask defensively, refusing to give an inch.
"Me." A feminine voice interjected.
Turning my head, I see another asian. This time a woman in a black tank top, ripped jean shorts for some reason, along with two holsters on her body. One for each shoulder. Each holster carries a pistol. But of which Origin I do not know.
"I see." Was my plain reply.
"Yep, You said something in Japanese, what exactly I don't really know, BUT! I have spent time with Rock here, to be able to know the distinct sound of Japanese!" She said pointing to the man that observed me, leaning back against her chair.
"..Did you now?"
"Yep, And it looks like you're more trouble than you're worth, so unless you give Clear,Concise answers, we're gonna hand you over to the American NSA agents on this boat!" She said aggressively, clearly not wanting to beat around the bush any longer than necessary.
"...Fine. What do you want to know."
"Nihonjindesu ka?" He asked, looking at my eyes as he did so, looking for any signs of fear and anxiety no doubt.
"...Hai. I am Japanese. Next."
"...Well, look at you! nippy here finally answering questions!" The female quipped in mock excitement, clearly taking the piss at me.
"What is your name?" The man asked again.
"...Yamada Taro."
"...Really?"
"Yep."
"...Like, are you sure?"
"That's my name."
"But that name's super common and-"
"That's my name."
"..Sorry."
"...Alright! Moving onto the next question! What is your relation to the good ole US of A?" The female interjected this time, clearly fed up with the awkwardness of the room.
"They...want to kill me" I say, still unsure why they want to.
"And do you know why?" She asks, saying the sentence slowly while standing up and walking towards me.
"..." I don't say anything. Why? Because I don't know what to say.
"Because of this!" She growls out angrily, throwing a file on my bed. The very same File that I had stolen off of the enemy.
"You're going to tell me what the FUCK is on those FUCKING files, because our resident geek Benny, and even our boss wanted these files DESTROYED!"
"Destroy them then." I say seriously, looking into her raging eyes as she stood there, now silent because of my answer.
Silence, then a chuckle, a chuckle devoid of any mirth as she pulled out a pistol from her holster. A chuckle as she pointed the gun at me. A chuckle as she undid the safety. A chuckle as she asked me once more.
"Where did you get these files?" She asked in a low voice, glaring at me as her finger gently touched the trigger of her pistol.
"...Afghanistan."
"Where exactly?"
"In an underground base."
"What is the purpose of that base?"
"To hold weapons of mass destruction...And that Robot that you saw."
"...Ah yes, the robot. You're going to tell me what the FUCK that thing was."
"...To my understanding. It was made in Russia. State of the art or whatever. It is still a piece of junk at the end of the day."
"..." She looked at me silently, reading my face.
A moment passes by before she lowers the pistol. Letting out a groan as she threw her head back in annoyance.
"Let me guess, it's something of, the Americans were involved with the robot, you know too much and now you're better off dead or alive, correct?"
"...Yes."
"And let me ask another thing."
"..."
"What is your relation with big sis Balalaika?"
"...Who?"
"Sigh. Sofiya Pavlovna, you know here?"
"Oh, her I know."
"Sofiya Pavlovna is Balalaika dipshit."
"...That is...a rather stupid nickname."
"You know what? I don't exactly have much time to argue, what is your relationship with her?"
"I'm one of her soldiers."
"That didn't seem like the case."
"..."
"When she saw you through the dust and confusion, you know what I heard?"
"..." I stayed quiet. Not liking this story. Not a bit.
"She screamed. She screamed bloody Mary. Immediately ordered everyone to stop fighting those damn cubans or whatever and focus on you. She wanted you dead."
...What?...She wanted me dead?...Why?
"But that begs the question, why? You were in soviet uniform when you appeared, so going by logic, you should be one of hers….and yet you're not...Why?"
"..I honestly do not know…" Many possibilities, so many thoughts, and yet...there was only one possible, logical reason as to why she wanted me dead now that I think about it.
Sofiya Pavlovna was...no is a woman who is extremely loyal to her men. Hell, they were probably family to her. If someone harmed one of hers, then she would most likely hunt them to hell and back.
If she knew that my very existence was a lie. If she found out that I fought and killed many of her comrades, then she would be furious. IF someone ratted me out, told her the truth without me being there to deny it? Oh, it was indeed a death sentence huh?
Boris and the rest of the men should have found her by now. And being the dipshit's that they are, there is a very high fucking probability that they ratted me out.
Meaning...
"Try me."
"...Fine."
"It's probably because someone snitched. Most likely Boris now that I think about it."
Great. Not only have I pissed off uncle SAM, I've pissed off Sofiya Pavlovna as well...Wait, what the hell is she doing in Thailand...What the hell am I doing in Thailand...No. You know what? Now is not the fucking time. I can deal with that later. I need to deal with this NOW however.
"Snitched about what?"
"..."
"Tell me, or I WILL shoot you."
"I was part of the Mujahedin."
"...What?"
"I killed many of her comrades...Possibly her friends."
"...O..k?"
"But that still doesn't explain why you were in Soviet uniform-"
"I lied. I faked being a Russian, I faked my way into the red army. I ended up in her unit."
"...And?" The woman said, probing for more.
"...And that is that."
"I know it's not."
"..And why do you think so?"
"You're not a spy. You're a separate party. If you were a spy then the Americans would never have said what they said."
"If you were a spy, then Big sis Balalaika, no matter how furious, would have never ordered for you to be fired on."
"If you were a spy, then you would not be here, instead you would remain in Afghanistan."
"You are a third party. What is your goal?"
"...." I said nothing, my heavy silence betraying nothing.
"SPEAK!"
"...I just wanted to go home." I finally utter out after a moment's pause, the words weighing heavily on me as I say the one thing on this earth that I want.
"..." She said nothing now, merely glaring at me. The room is now even more tense as a result.
"...Say, do you have a smoke?" I ask the man next to me, sitting on a chair beside my bed.
"...Ah, yes. Here you go." He said, pulling a cigarette out slightly from the box, motioning for me to take it.
Taking it, I held it in my mouth for the briefest of seconds, allowing him to light it as I took a small drag.
"..." A couple seconds pass, the silence once more takes control of the room.
"Say...Why did you save me?" I ask the both of them now, the smoke from my cigarette lingering in the air.
"...Well, I didn't save you, Revy did." The man said, pointing to the foul mouthed woman who snarled at him.
"..."
"...Well, If I have to say...then I suppose I thought you had something to do with Rock and Big sis Balalaika. I mean, I had a Japanese guy in Soviet paratrooper uniform, I couldn't just leave you there to die now could I?" She said with a sigh, Her furrowed brow betraying nothing.
"Well well well, look at you now! All grown up!" The man said with a teasing grin. As to which the woman snarled in annoyance.
"Oh my god Rock, I will shoot you if you say another word."
"...Yes ma'am."
"Look, you, Yamaha or whatever, I know you aren't telling the full story. But I can tell between a lie and a truthful statement. And you haven't really lied at all. The only reason Why i'm not pressing you any further is because we simply don't have enough time. We're just about minutes away from reaching that damn terminator of a bitch. So be a dear and stay on this ship will you? Oh wait, It's not like you'll be going anywhere with those injuries anyway." She said with a snarky grin.
"...Revy." The man said after looking at his watch.
"Already?" asked the woman.
"Yep."
"Sigh. Fine. Let's go." The woman said with a tired groan.
"...Oh. And Yamaha? I mean it. We got some very bloodthirsty Americans who want to take you to Guantanamo bay...or have you shot. Don't act up now. Play dead." She said in a low voice as she stopped at the edge of the doorway. Stopping for only a moment before opening the door and exiting.
The man soon followed suit.
As the door softly shut, I could only feel dread for what was going to happen to me. I could only ground as I continued smoking my cigarette, taking another drag as I desperately tried to come to a logical conclusion to this madness.
….Black lagoon company. The man known as Rock, and the woman known as Revy. They aren't American agents, they're a third party. So that means they have no reason to kill me, nor do me harm...for now. According to the foul mouth lady known as Revy.
...They know Pavlovna. They work with the US government. Important word here being WITH. If they worked for them, they would have turned me in. And because of the fact that I'm not in US custody, and that there's no armed American agent currently watching me with an M16. Along with the little tidbit that there's only a group….
The US isn't here "officially" This is probably a covert mission, meant to destabilize a country, or to assassinate someone. The most logical conclusion is that they hired the black lagoon company to transport them to someplace, where no doubt they'll pull some really fucking sneaky, dirty shit.
It only made sense. The smaller the group is, the less attention they attract. There is also no possible way that I can be their target. Hell, according to the kid...Garcia, I just appeared out of nowhere in the city...Which leads me to another scary thought.
I managed to time travel. Again. But when? I know that I am in the proximity of Thailand. I am on a boat...And that's it really. But then again, did I really time travel? What if I just teleported or something, I wouldn't know. Perhaps, this was an alternate reality that I slid into...Was I slider?...Sigh, Fucking hell. This was a mess.
The fact remains. Sofiya Pavlovna wants me dead. The Us government wants me dead. I want me not to die. And now we have a problem. Where do I go from here? If I'm off the coast of Thailand, couldn't I theoretically make it to japan? No, I don't exist yet, and the fact still stands, I have no money, a giant of a nation that has me in their eyes. And Sofiya Pavlovna to deal with. I was a ghost. A deadman, both literally and metaphorically.
"...What can I possibly do?" I can't help but mutter aloud to myself as I take another drag out of stress.
This was a fucking nightmare.
Yes. It was indeed a nightmare now that I think about it. Nothing made logical sense, the situations that I am in are just bat shit crazy and absurd. I have the strongest country on earth trying to kill me, my former superior now trying to kill me. And now I was in a boat off the fucking coast of Thailand.
Great, just great.
Unexpectedly, I'm still alive.
As expected however, my life is so wrong.