[WARZONE - STRUGGLE]

It’s not quite waking up, per se – it’s more like remembering you’re alive.

Masaru opens his eyes with his face in the dirt and a horrible feeling lining his back. He places his hands in the sand to push himself up and moves fast when it starts burning his fingers.

Stretching up, the sun blinds him. He has to pause a moment as he tries to understand what’s happening. He can’t hear anything as he tries to spit the sand-thick wind out of his mouth. He looks around and sees sun cutting along the side of a dune. Adjusting himself, he realizes that it’s not that he’s deaf; everything’s so loud around him that he’s struggling to make out sounds.

Gunfire and explosions roar in all directions as men in uniform, with flag patches of various nations on their right shoulders, move around a barrier that he can’t see past.

“Whale Five, this is Whale Six, give me a status update,” a voice behind him demands.

“Sir,” the voice crackles over the radio as Masaru turns around to see Kenji leaning over a handheld radio with a long antenna. “It’s an ambush. The platoon’s surrounded.”

Masaru limps over in the sun. It’s so hot – unlike anything he’s felt before. The world feels like a mirror, pointing straight at him from all angles to reflect as much of the sun’s light as possible.

“Acknowledged. Stand by,” Kenji says, furiously tapping away at the buttons on his radio’s display before picking up the hand mic again. “Shark Six, this is Whale Six. Come in.”

There’s a pause.

“Whale Six, this is Shark Six.”

“Alpha’s been ambushed. Deploy the reaction force,” he says.

There’s another pause on the radio. “Sending the reaction force, sir.”

“Whale Six out,” Kenji says, releasing the button on the hand mic before looking back to a topographical map next to him and frantically marking out symbols in pen that Masaru hasn’t the slightest chance of interpreting.

“Kenji?” Masaru asks, using his briefcase to shield off the sun.

Kenji looks up to him and immediately looks back down. “Here,” Kenji says, not so much as a ‘here, take this,’ but more of a ‘here is what I have to deal with.’ Masaru nods in acknowledgement as Kenji finishes scribbling a few red diamonds with little symbols in them on the map. He reaches over to the radio and redials a number. “Whale Five, this is Whale Six.”

“Sir, high casualties. Two fire teams remaining.” Kenji’s eyes widen like the sun above him. “Why did you do this to us, sir?!” the radio on the other end shouts amidst the screaming and gunfire behind it.

Masaru squints as Valerie emerges from a small tent in the miserable compound composed of concrete walls and sandbag barriers. She begins racing up. Kenji acknowledges her too as he just stares at the radio.

“Where’s your location?”

“200 north,” the voice named Whale Five responds. “This was your plan, right?”

Kenji takes a moment as his breathing begins pulling in harder and harder, almost as loud as the gunfire. “I’m… coming over,” he blurts out, promptly tipping over the radio and standing up.

“Wait, Kenji!” Masaru shouts. “What are you doing?”

“Give me the round,” Kenji says, his eyes trembling as he reaches for Masaru’s briefcase.

Masaru pulls it back. “Isn’t it your job to be… commanding them?”

“You don’t get it. They’re my men. I have to save them.”

There’s a pause as Valerie scoots over into the shade next to the barrier, surveying the sand surrounding them.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you have to go die.”

“Then what are they doing!?” Kenji shouts.

Just then the radio mic keys in. “Whale Six, this is Shark Six.”

Kenji almost dives at the radio. “Go ahead.”

“Pulling off now, we’ll be there in thirty seconds…” An ear-splitting crackle smashes through the hand mic speaker.

“Shark Six!” Kenji shouts, holding the hand mic like a neck.

There’s a pause as Masaru hears gunfire erupting over from their west, well past the compound.

“We hit an IED. Akira’s dead. We’re under fire. We need help, sir!”

Kenji presses his free hand into his face so hard it looks like it could break right through into his skull. “You ARE the help!” Kenji screams. “What do you want me to do?!”

“Your duty, sir.”

The radio cuts out.

This time, Kenji throws down the radio and swings at Masaru. Masaru’s eyes are keen, but not when it comes to an unannounced attack. The punch goes right through Masaru, but he can imagine if it were real, he’d be out cold in an instant.

“Give me the briefcase!” Kenji shouts.

“No!” Masaru shouts. “Do you just run in every time!?”

Kenji growls as he rears up at Masaru, while Valerie nervously grips her rifle at the ready.

“That doesn’t matter! It’s my duty!”

“Your duty’s here! Be brave!” Masaru shouts, running around the side of the compound with Kenji chasing him. Kenji raises his rifle to fire on Masaru for a moment, but then simply picks up his pace.

“Being brave is going in! Being brave is dying with your men!”

“It’s not over!” Masaru shouts back. “None of this is over! Pick up the radio! Maybe there’s someone you can call?” Masaru trips over a little box with a moon on it. Rations spill out, and he gets up to his feet just in time to avoid a baseball bat-like swing from Kenji’s buttstock.

“A real man doesn’t hide from his problems, Masaru. I’m going in. I’m going to get them out.”

“What would get them out,” Masaru shouts, “is doing your job!”

“This is my job!” Kenji shouts, raising his buttstock and smashing down into Masaru’s face.

It’s vicious: the strike of someone who does not have the time to hit twice. Three of his teeth collapsed into his mouth, Masaru spits out blood as Kenji reaches into the briefcase and retrieves the round. With a scoff, Kenji takes a moment to wipe the sweat from his face before giving a single acknowledging scoff in Masaru’s direction.

“I knew you wouldn’t get it,” Kenji says with the smirk of a man who’s certain he’s already dead. Just as he turns for the radio, he stops. Valerie’s there, and she has the radio. As Masaru reels from the shock, hanging on the thinnest thread of consciousness, Kenji stares at the woman holding the hand mic.

“Valerie,” Kenji says. “Give me… my radio.”

Honestly, Masaru has no clue what she could say that would get this pig-headed brute of a man out of his head, but in a surprising twist, she simply raises it up to her lips and depresses the hand mic.

“Shark Six?” she asks. There’s a pause as she releases the hand mic, and then a reply returns.

“Last call on net. Identify.”

Valerie waves her head around a bit as her eyebrows raise. “You’re talking to Valerie. I’m coming over to help you.” At that, she simply puts down the radio and gives a short, crass salute. “I bought you some time. Don’t waste it,” she says with a nod before turning around and running off in the direction where she heard the last explosion.

“That…” Kenji stops himself for a second. “That doesn’t change anything!” he shouts, waving his hands around in the air. “You’re just running in to die!”

Masaru spits out a few blood-covered teeth before taking a deep breath. “Then why were you going?”

Kenji turns around as if it’s an obvious answer. “What in the world do you mean? To save them! To go like a man, I’m their commander! I’m showing them I’m worthy!” Kenji shouts.

Masaru takes a moment, wondering if it’s the blunt force trauma or if Kenji is actually sounding completely insane.

“Look, I don’t know how combat or anything like that works” Masaru says, weighing his words carefully. “But I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to do something else other than just run in there and get shot.”

“It’s enough!” Kenji shouts. “I’ll show them it’s enough!”

Masaru pauses a moment in the dry, hot desert. “I mean, wouldn’t you call for air support or something? Can’t you call for additional help?”

“There’s…” Kenji stops again, his chest rising and falling like a hammer. “There’s no one else that can help.”

Masaru looks Kenji deep in the eyes. “Why not? Wasn’t this your plan?”

“No, of course not! I was given my plan by my commander.”

“And he just… put you out in the desert? Without anything?”

“…That’s just how it is sometimes.”

Masaru blinks up at the sun. “So you’re either supposed to stay on the radio and listen to all of your soldiers die, or you go in there and die.”

“Yes,” Kenji sighs out. “It is actually that simple. That’s all this is. Are you starting to get it?”

Masaru blinks up at the sun before shielding his eyes. “No, actually. I’m not starting to get it.”

“What do you mean?” Kenji asks.

“Have you done it both ways?”

Kenji squints. “Well, no, but when I wait on the radio, it just gets worse. They all call out for me to go out and die like a man.”

“Well… maybe that’s not what you’re supposed to do.”

“So what am I supposed to do?!” Kenji snaps at the downed man below him. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”

Masaru squints into his own palm. What is all this trying to tell him? What lesson is there for Kenji? The longer he thinks about it, the closer he feels he gets to the answer.

“You’re quite a soldier, Kenji,” Masaru says. “And I’m sure all the people you helped would feel that way too. I’m sure it would feel bad if you made a mistake. Wouldn’t it?”

Kenji’s silent for a few seconds, his mouth agape. “What exactly are you trying to say?”

Masaru begins struggling back up to his feet. He can only manage up to his knees at first. “Is this about guilt?” he asks. “Guilt you can’t accept because it’s not who you are?”

Kenji’s still silent. Masaru wobbles up to his feet. “Man, you can really dish it out,” he sighs out as he rubs his face a moment before continuing. “Kenji, is this like something that happened to you in real life?”

Kenji presses a hand into his face. “It’s not that simple. Listen, it’s really not that simple. I…”

The gunfire roars up, and the distinctive crack of Valerie’s firearm can be heard in the distance, apart from the more modern ArmaLite rifles.

“It can’t be that, Masaru. I’ve taken responsibility for my failures.”

“Okay, but what if you’re taking too much responsibility?” Masaru asks. “Are you just going to run in there and sacrifice yourself?”

“It’s not a sacrifice,” Kenji snips.

“Do you really, honestly believe you can’t help anyone?”

There’s a pause. Finally, Kenji throws up his hands.

“I… I lost the damn quick card!”

Masaru blinks as the wind, like air from an oven, bakes into his face. “A quick card?” he asks. It amazes him how Kenji’s apparently totally okay with talking about this in the middle of a battle – perhaps he’s not so far gone after all.

Kenji shakes his head. “It’s a paper with radio frequencies. Every time this starts, I have the card, but when I reach into my pocket, I can’t find it.” He wipes his face. “I suppose… it’s like that time I did something similar and someone died. I’m an embarrassment, Masaru. And the only way I can make it right is to be a man and go in with them. I was too afraid to then. But I’m not now. I’m going to show them that I care.”

Masaru hums a moment as he looks around, his eyes glancing around the sand as if for an answer. “I mean, surely there’s got to be some other way. There’s no way that’s the only card.”

Kenji begins breathing heavily again. “That’s not true, Masaru. What’s done is done. And now I’m going to show them that I have it in me. If I can’t show them because I’m smart, I’ll show them because I’m brave. And you won’t stop me.”

“Valerie went out ahead of you,” Masaru says as he listens to the wind. The two pause, and Kenji shakes his head.

“…And?”

“Do you hear her rifle anymore?”

There’s a pause, and he sighs. “No,” he says.

Masaru shakes his head. “Me neither. She went in to give you a chance to think this over. Don’t put it to waste. So come on, let’s try another way.”

Kenji just stands there for a moment, his body glistening with droplets of short-lived sweat. “The Enemy wouldn’t put me here if it wasn’t trying to teach me this.”

“No, that’s not something you need to learn. You don’t need to learn to just throw yourself away. You’re brave enough. That’s obvious. It’s trying to teach you something else,” Masaru says. “Let’s look around. What’s this base holding?”

Kenji shakes his head. “Just tents, nothing important. Come on,” he says after a sigh. “I’ll show you.”

They walk in. There are rows upon rows of perfect, identical desert camouflage tents, each with neat little rows of water cans and ration boxes. Green cots line the area, as concertina wire and sandbags wreath the exterior like an imprint of survival upon an unforgiving terrain. Masaru sees a Japanese flag along with others aligned under a banner that he’s pretty sure is supposed to be the United Nations.

Peacekeeping missions, Masaru thinks. He wonders for a moment if this is Kenji’s real experience, a memory from his past. But the air is too stretched, everything’s too abstract. Distance is barely real. It’s all like a dream. Masaru’s certain that this is simply a rough collage of what the man’s been through. This is a test of Kenji’s identity, his pride, his shame, and his humility – he’s sure of it now.

“Look, see?” Kenji says, pushing his hand through a tent and revealing absolutely nothing but empty beds.

It doesn’t even look like anyone’s lived in here, Masaru thinks. There’s a certain coldness to it. Kind of like the hospital, it’s meant to be a place that’s transient, but appears like a home of sorts. There’s no true rest here. Masaru keeps looking through the different tents, certain that there’s going to be something, some kind of hint, but finds nothing.

“Happy?” Kenji asks.

Masaru shakes his head. “No, there’s got to be some way. If you had that card, what could you do?”

Kenji sighs. “I could call on air support. I could call in the Battalion Quick Reaction Force. Fire support. Quite a lot, but I don’t have it, and it’s not here, so it doesn’t matter.”

“That’s what this is about,” Masaru interrupts. Kenji looks at the salaryman as if he had just spoken up to a superior officer.

“Now listen here, boy.”

“Yeah, I’m a boy,” Masaru interrupts again. “Especially in comparison to you. I get it. You live your entire life thinking certain things can’t be changed. We’ve been over that. But now you have to let go. You have to let me look for you. Put your emotions aside. Who cares if it’s stupid to you? Just let me try.”

Kenji pauses a moment as he watches over the scowling Masaru. “What would you have me do?”

“You got that radio?” Kenji looks over to the side of their little camp, the radio and hand mic await him.

“…Yeah?” he responds, but his eyes widen as if he knows the direction Masaru is about to push this.

“I need you to pick that up and I need you to ask one of your soldiers if they have the frequencies you need.”

Kenji just stares at Masaru as if he just shot him. He stops himself for a moment, and then begins walking over to the radio. Masaru does the same. They’re quiet as they march past the barrier and up to the radio. The two of them stare it down, Masaru like a key, and Kenji like a massive, yawning abyss.

“When this happened in real life to you, what did you do?”

Kenji squints bitterly. “It wasn’t a quick card.”

“Okay, but it was something else, right? Something that had to do with your responsibility?” Kenji stares at the radio. “Look, I’m sorry, but I assume we’re in a bit of a rush. I think that…” He stops as Kenji shakes his head.

“They don’t come over the hill.”

“…What?”

“They don’t go over that dune,” Kenji says, nodding over. “Every time, after five minutes, everyone over the dune’s dead.”

Masaru listens. There are only a few gunshots now. What was originally a massive, shearing screech of exploding black powder and lead is now just a few small, calculated pops from far off.

Kenji sighs. “And once I eventually go over that hill, I get shot too.”

“From what?” Masaru asks.

Kenji shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m meant to go over that hill and get killed. That’s what this is designed to be… And now I’ve run out of time.”

“Well, I suppose what we should do is call an ambulance then,” Masaru says.

Kenji just sits down on the sand, a long, crass smirk on his face. “What? You know, like get the medical treatment?”

“It’s called a nine-line,” Kenji says with a nod. “We could get a helicopter in here to start ferrying away patients, but we need the card for that. And we’d have to program it into the radio… And everyone else is either dying or dead.”

Masaru stops a moment. “Is there anyone else you can think to call?”

Kenji just sits there for a moment and begins nodding. “The battalion commander.” He scoffs. “I’m sure the old bastard would be happy to know that I just killed the whole company.”

“I mean, that might not be true, right? You should probably call for help first. That would be a commander’s job, and then you can go and help them.”

Once again, in the continual dance of pauses, Kenji stops. He thinks about it, and then comes to a slow nod.

“And what would you say to the commander?”

Masaru shrugs. “I mean, it’s not really something you can apologize for. War happens sometimes.”

“They’re dead because of me,” Kenji says.

“They’re dead,” Masaru pauses a moment as he points over the dune, “because The Enemy shot at them. You’re not responsible for their fate. You’re responsible for their well-being for as long as you can. You can’t save everyone, Kenji. Sometimes you can’t save anyone, but you should try.”

Kenji’s smile is so crass that Masaru thinks it’s almost demonic. “And what do you know about this kind of thing, salaryman?” he says, adding venomous emphasis to the final word.

Masaru glances off to the dune. He really doesn’t want to tell Kenji that the only way he can relate to this is from losing important NPCs in Sanguine Souls. “I can’t relate to it in the same way you can, but I don’t think that disqualifies me from being able to speak what I’m pretty sure is the truth. Can’t you just call up to him and ask for help?”

“I’m a man. I can help them myself.”

“If you’re willing to forego the embarrassment, you could help them even more by asking for help. I’m sure there are expectations for who you’re supposed to be in your job, but isn’t your most important duty to help your soldiers?”

Kenji, despite the heat, shivers at the thought. Crossing his arms, he scowls at Masaru, who only looks back. The two are silent for a moment. Then Kenji picks up the hand mic and puts in a frequency.

“Ocean Six, this is Whale Six.”

…

“Go ahead, Whale Six,” a gruff, experienced voice speaks out.

“I am requesting the frequency for medical evacuation of soldiers.”

There’s a long pause over the radio. “Very well.” The voice known as Tuna Six begins reciting a number as if from memory. Masaru just stares at Kenji as tears form in his eyes. He reaches for a pen and writes the frequency on his hand.

“Thank you, sir,” Kenji sighs with a nod.

“Ocean Six out.”

And that was it.

That was all Kenji needed to go up against.

Right away, Kenji begins keying in the number to call in medical.

“This is Dustoff,” a relaxed, handsome voice replies to Kenji’s ping.

Masaru listens and watches closely as Kenji relays the details, the nine-line information, as if from the back of his hand. He only needs to check his map a single time until he gets to a specific question.

“Is the drop zone clear?”

Kenji pauses. “No, it’s not.”

Without skipping a beat, the one named Dustoff keys over the radio. “All good. Approach from the east. Latest airspace report places a lone sniper between those two rocks.”

Kenji’s eyes slowly widen. “All right, I’ll do that. ETA ten minutes.”

“Check, roger,” Dustoff says. “We’ll be there right away.”

“Whale Six out.” Kenji cuts the mic. “.,,A sniper behind the rocks.”

He takes up his rifle and reaches to his side to produce a pistol for Masaru. “Let’s go.”

A smiling Masaru takes it readily. “Alright.”

They head on, flanking just half a kilometer. It’s a long walk for Masaru. He hates it, but does his best to keep up.

It’s only been a few minutes when they find a single shadowy figure bent over a Russian-made sniper rifle, decades old.

The noise of the wind has allowed them to approach without alerting him, so the sniper is entirely at their whim. Masaru glances over to Kenji, who, with a dull but accepting glance, raises up his rifle. He closes his eyes. A tear streams down his face, something no more permanent than the constant evaporating sweat, and he takes his shot.

The figure makes no sound. It just falls over limply and evaporates.

Masaru steps forward and looks out to the battlefield.

“There’s no one there.”

“No, just Valerie,” Kenji says, pointing far out across the dunes to the other side of the post, where the sniper was able to see as well. Valerie’s lifeless body lies in the dust.

“I guess he was all that was needed,” Masaru says.

Kenji just falls to his knees and weeps.

Masaru keeps his mouth shut for the full minute as Kenji sobs into the hot air. He imagines Kenji could say a lot about this, but he realizes the tears are saying more.

They hear the whirring blades of a helicopter nearby, and in the distance, Masaru notices the gray crown of a Black Hawk helicopter moving to the site.

“Thank you,” Kenji says, wiping his face.

Masaru shakes his head. “Someone else helped me get over myself,” he says, looking across to Valerie’s slumped-over body. “And I’m happy to do that part for you.”

The world disappears, and they move on.