A soldier dragged Pearl back to the camp after discovering her and the men swarmed around her like flies on a dead carcass.  I didn’t recognize her at first.  Her face was bruised with cracked, bleeding lips.  I only recognized her through her screams and cries, as the soldier tried to penetrate her.  He had already pulled down her pants and was unbuckling his own when I pulled out my handgun.  I placed the pistol on the back of his head and, instantly, he stopped.  Time was limited as the men continued to stare at her like hungry beasts as I pulled her away in my arms.  All of them, except for me, wanted to her.  It had been weeks since my men have been anywhere near a brothel and were anxious to lay down with a woman.  They expected me to be the same: emotionless, lustful, and selfish.  I couldn’t let her suffer knowing the intent the men had in mind.

            How and why she left the walls of Peking was never explained even as we into an abandoned country mud house, far from the others.  Although she never explained herself, I always had a feeling that she had followed us because of me.  I never got to say good bye before leaving the city.  My sudden disappearance must have made her feel forsaken and broken.  Before my abrupt leave, she had told me that she had fallen in love with me and that her whole heart and soul was mine; I said nothing in return.  I couldn’t even though I wanted to.  I was tongue-tied. 

            ‘Lu Han.’ she called out the Chinese name she gave me, softly.  ‘Please kill me.’  She looked up at me with glassy orbs.  Tears escaped the rims of her eyes as she latched onto me.  ‘Just kill me.  I don’t want to get , Lu Han.’ 

            I looked away, unable to watch her beg me for her untimely death. She should have stayed back in Peking, forget about me, get married, and live her life.  Her life would have been better if I had never invaded it.  I glanced back down at her.  She looked up at me with her shiny eyes as she held onto my shirt. 

            ‘I would rather have you kill me than anyone else because I know you care about me.’ she said.  ‘So, kill me.’

I remembered that I wanted to say something to her, but the words had slipped my mind.  ‘I’m sorry.’ I said, in her language.  No, that wasn’t what I wanted to say.  It was something else.  It was some words that I keep on forgetting over and over. 

            My hand shook as I placed my handgun on her temple.  I couldn’t kill her.  I didn’t want to kill her, but there was no other way.  If I let her free, she will be discovered again either by my troop or another and suffer the same consequences.  I would rather have her enter Paradise* than have her endure the pain and shame of being .  She smiled softly as she put her small hand over mine, with her thumb over the index finger on the hot trigger.

            ‘Just close your eyes and no one will be able to hurt me anymore.’ she said, gently.  Her hand came up and covered my eyes as they started to burn for her.  A huge lump formed in my throat, making me lame and speechless.  ‘I almost forgot.’  She let out a soft giggle.  ‘I will never forget you.’

            Without hesitation and before I could attempt to say anything, she pressed the trigger for me.  I could feel tears stream down my sunburned cheeks, making them sting with the pain I felt.  My gun dropped on the dirt floor as I motioned to hold her in my arms.  I could feel the thundering of footsteps as my troop ran over to the house.  I quickly wiped my wet face.  I couldn’t stand showing them my pain and tears.  They were screaming and yelling as they banged down the thin, wooden door.

            ‘What happened?’ screamed a soldier.

            They were all watching me with those darn eyes of theirs.  They were judging and analyzing me.  To have them continue to respect me as the Lieutenant I was, I had to hide my suffering.  ‘She looked like my sister.’ I lied.  ‘I couldn’t her.  I had to spare her life.  I-’

            Thud.  That random noise had suddenly interrupted my memories of her.

            The noise came from outside my room.  I looked down the hall to see a small figure disappearing behind a corner.  I had forgotten that the maid was here to tidy up the house again.  My sons had insisted that she come by three times a week to help look after me and the estate.  I never thought it was necessary, but I had to oblige since none of them would listen to me.  I am still strong and able to care for myself, the house, and the garden as I always have.  I did not look forward to the maid’s arrival until I saw her face on the first day she came by. 

            She looked exactly like Pearl, the young Chinese woman I had killed.  No two people had ever looked more identical than those two.  They both have pale skin with soft, rosy, chubby cheeks that deceived many to believe them to be younger than their years.  Their hair was black, thick, and long.  It even sways the same way as they walk away from me.  When they smiled their eyes lit up and crinkle at a particular corner, which always made me smile along with them.  It was so contagious and full with so much happiness and pureness.  I had and always will love that smile of theirs.    

            The maid hummed a tune that I didn’t recognize as she placed a tray of food in front of me.  I looked away from her as she did so.  These timid, beady black eyes of mine were always avoiding eye contact with hers, but I know that she knew that I always watched.  She would consistently hesitate to turn around with the way she stuttered as she dismissed herself from my presence.  Then, she would casually glance over her shoulders as she did that and I would accidentally catch her eyes with a blushing face as I try to calm my racing heart down. 

Everything is still the same.

            Those strange, warm, budding feelings I feel for Pearl have never changed.   I would still call out for her in my dreams, even decades after her death.  My wife was never happy when she heard her name on my lips, saying that the love she received was never the same as hers.  Perhaps that was true.  She probably never really did receive the same admiration Pearl got because I have never changed.  I am still the same.  I am still the same young Lieutenant I once was, never aging, and am only hiding behind this wrinkling mask.

            “Yamaguchi-san**?” asked a voice, pulling me out of my thoughts.

            I turned and stared directly in into her gentle, inviting eyes as she sits next to me.  Her almond shaped eyes were bright and shiny as she looked back at me.  I placed my hand on top of her slightly rough, small ones when I suddenly realized how old, dry, and wrinkled my once smooth, strong hands were.  I quickly pulled it away, embarrassed as I turned to look out the opened window.  What had happened?  Has life passed me by before I could fully grasp it?  It seems to be so as I dread looking into the mirror everyday at a person I don’t recognize.  Who is he and where did he come from?  I don’t know.  All I know is that this person is supposed to be me, who isn’t really me at all.

            A small breeze entered through the open window, relieving the tension that had built up between she and I.  I glanced at her as the wind picked up her long, silk hair.  A few strands flew into my face, tickling my stubble chin.  I smiled and turned to her. 

            “I love you, Pearl.” I said, in a whisper.  “I always had.”  That was what I had wanted to say to her before pulling the trigger and I still can’t believe that it just slipped out of my mind, like nothing.  It took so many years for me just to realize that.  For a moment, I felt stupid but was quickly overcome with peace.  I was finally able to say what I have always wanted to say to her.

            The maid heard me and looked at me with shock.  She hesitated with trembling lips as she wanted to say something.  Then, she stopped and stared at me for a moment.  Without warning, a soft smile touched her lips with bright, glassy eyes.  Even in Pearl’s death, she was smiling that same smile making her death seem like a distant dream.    She turned toward me and bowed.  I could feel a warm teardrop fall on my hand. 

            “Thank you, Yamaguchi-san.”

* The Japanese believes that when you die, you go to paradise.

**Yamaguchi Nobu is supposed to be “Lu Han’s” Japanese name. 

Author’s Note:

            This piece was written with Lu Han being a Japanese Lieutenant during WWII and of him warming up to a Chinese young woman during their occupation in China.  He isn’t the Lu Han that we know, but an old Japanese man that my imagination had created.  “Lu Han” was supposed to be a nickname Pearl gave to him due to whatever reasons unknown.  I hope it doesn’t confuse any of you too much.  If you are still confused, then just send me an ask.  I will be happy to explain it to you. 

            Please forgive me if I got anything wrong since I had only researched so little for the basics of the story.  In addition, this was my best piece from all of my works while I was in my Creative Writing class.  I just switched out a few things here and there.  Hope you enjoyed it.  ^^  Thank you for reading it.

LOVE,

loveFORyunho