A Snow, on Cherry Blossoms - 9

A novella

5

Blessing was my 1st reaction – waking up was a blessing. Then I saw a nurse and beyond that a white room that suggested a hospital. Which meant I was in a different. It seemed some reorientation was needed. So, I looked around me, and the 1st thing that was noticed was an absence – there were no medical tables with surgery knives or anesthesia. There were on 3 sides, white coverings made of cotton – thus it was a recovery room. There was only the nurse in this space with me, and she was covered over even to her fingertips.

“I will get a doctor for you.” The voice was almost sweet, not gravelly. I could almost visualize her face beneath the mask – she was not young, but certainly not old. It was obvious that she had been doing this work for a long time – as her motions were fluid and precise. She went away on the right side of the curtains, and though I did not see anyone I could hear talking – and so was not alone. The only thing that was of interest was a calendar, which marked the date 9 January – which was disconcerting, I thought it had to be much later.

There was also something about the conversation overheard, it said that there was something military about the place – perhaps it was a military hospital, which made sense. A few minutes later, the right curtain opened up again, and the nurse led a doctor in. He was wearing a white lab coat and underneath the scrubs of a surgeon.

“How does it feel to be among the waking?” He was older, but not old. He was also thin, but not too thin, and told her not too tall. His bearing said that he was from the upper class, and thus one would expect a graduate of an elite university. That would be surmised as being part of the group that would subdue the enemies the Empire of the Sun – this was part of the face of the kind of men who worshiped the idea of increasing the size of Japan. But then so was I.

Only, somehow, it did not feel that way – perhaps because I had been abused. This was a disconcerting feeling, one that made the inner parts gaze through the gates of the abyss. I looked at the doctor and felt that I was with my cohort.

“Where is this place?”

“We had to rescue you from the police station, I am very sorry that we were not there in time. Your face is badly bruised, but it should be new in a couple of weeks. A member of the Navy will come down. He will brief because your orders are unknown to the rest of us.” The doctor had sat down at the edge of my bed – and a look of concern had taken over his face. This was unusual. I did not know whether he had more information, or not, and it was very unlikely that anything could be gone from him. I looked away, seeing little details which were not important – and that looked at the doctor. then left.

Alone – thought in my head and nothing more.

Wondering where my mate was, because it was reasonable that he would have been rescued at the same time, but was not sure of that. The machinations of government, and especially the military side of it, were opaque – it seemed as if there was a power cloud, sweeping over the sea and land – would do, and not telling anyone else until after it had passed through. Somewhere above was the Emperor, but he had little control over where the drops of rain fell. Maybe he did not have any control at all.

Gradually, other thoughts arrived – it was obvious that the original mission was over – but that an officer would be here shortly meant that there was a different approach and that someone high up had taken an interest in this place and this time – which meant the distant shape of Akahi Motojiro was pulling strings – secretly and subtly. It was not without reason that foreigners labeled the internal politics as “Kabuki”, there were nuances and subtleties which played on the nuances and subtleties. It took a lot of time to master – and then it would change again. For the moment, Motojiro was among the most sublime powers – with great skill in changing the shape of other politics to suit the main objective. That main objective was to number Nippon as one of the great powers and dispense with being a subordinate power – To England or anyplace else. The Americans had come in and shown our fathers that the time for isolation was over – this bread a revolution, that overturned the shogunate and its structures. This among many other thoughts ran through my head.

Attention was demanded by the outside world – because at that moment an officer of the Navy came in through the right enclosure, and he looked the part of her person born to command. While of ordinary height for a samurai, and broad face with a broad nose, unlike more subordinate members – his face was an interplay of subtle emotions. At the there was laughter, sternness, and grace – each of these came and went as he examined me. He then made up his mind about me, but I could not tell what he had decided. Unlike the doctor he did not sit down on the bed, nor did he pull up the chair which was in the corner.

“You are called Ishawara Akira? I am from the directory, You may call me no Hashiji Ryokata With the rank of Capt.” He was more formal than formal. He also did not say which directory he was from, which meant that it was the intelligence directory – would have a name. The Army talked directly about the intelligence services.

“Yes, sir.”

“What happened on the trawler?” It was clear that he had some idea of what was involved in my mission. His voice had also dropped down so no one else could hear our talking – which meant that most did not know.

For 5 minutes I told him the gist – where the trawler was going, the Russian cutter intervening, the decision by the captain to land in the port, and finally, the 2 of us getting away. I did not say what I thought was the importance of the other. Then I finished with the capture by our the bloody questioning by the Army intelligence officer – the Kempeitai. I then sat and awaited his judgment. But he only nodded.

“Go on.”

“There is nothing more to tell.”

The officer sighed, and with a great deal of forbearance, asked what to him was the logical question: “After this, do you think that the original mission should go ahead?”

“My face is too badly damaged, and there would be questions raised. I do not believe that finding the Russian spy and terminating him is the best use of my current state.” He nodded, but this time was more pleased.

“I am pleased that you recognize that your face would probably make things awkward. What do you suggest?”

“It seems that the mission is vital.”

He only nodded.

“And with only a picture to go on, I might suggest that someone else recommended .”

“There is no time for that.”

“Then I will have to wait until my face heals.”

“Fortunately, those with more foresight have given us another way. The officer which you are going to be on a train from Mukden. He is to blow up the station rather than aid the Russian engineers in disabling both the bridges and sections of the track. Find him on the ground, and destroy him. That will be enough time for us to reinforce. You may get dressed, and report downstairs.”

Pain greeted me on moving my hips and legs – but that would not stop anyone from doing their duty.