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Cuttlefish -> RE: Small Ship, Big War (1/1/2008 2:21:20 AM)
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September 4, 1943
Location: Tokyo
Course: Disbanded in port
Attached to: None
Mission: None
System Damage: 0
Float Damage: 0
Fires: 0
Fuel: 475
Orders: Await further orders
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Petty Officer Second Class Taiki Takahashi sits in his bunk and attempts one more time to write a letter. The crumpled sheets of paper beside him attest to the fact that he is not finding this task easy.
He had not intended to write to Sayumi Komatsu at all. While at sea he had convinced himself that the war and his duties left no room in his life for courtship or romance. But he found that despite this decision he could not stop from thinking about her. And once Hibiki returned to port he realized that it was possible, just possible, that he was using his duties as an excuse to avoid having to make a difficult decision. Since that too would be an abandonment of his responsibilities he decided to do something about it.
Thus he finds himself trying to write a letter to Sayumi telling her that while he thinks she is a fine woman he cannot in all conscience continue to court her. Not that he ever really courted her in the first place, he thinks. He really only knew her for a few days, and only kissed her once. But he remembers her face as they parted at the train station in Okayama and thinks that maybe it all meant more to her than he intended.
But he is having a great deal of trouble writing the letter. His attempts come out sounding either far too formal or weak and flat. At last he gives up in disgust and goes up on deck to get some air.
In contrast to the warm day just past the night is pleasantly cool. Taiki wanders aft to the fantail and stands looking down at the dark water, hands clasped behind his back.
After a few moments he becomes aware that someone is standing beside him. The dim light reveals the lumpy silhouette of CPO Shun. Taiki wonders for the one hundredth time how a man of the Chief’s size moves so silently.
“Good evening, Chief,” he says. Shun nods in reply.
“Trouble sleeping, Takahashi?” he says in his low, grating voice. Taiki hears only curiosity in the Chief’s tone.
“I am trying to write a letter to a woman,” he admits, “and not succeeding.”
Shun grunts. “Hello or good bye?” he asks.
“Good bye,” admits Taiki.
“Eh,” says Shun. “Sailors practically have a form letter for such occasions. Why are you having so much trouble?”
“Because I think I am in love with her,” says Taiki, then stands amazed at his own words. He had not until this moment realized it was true. Even in the dim light he can see Shun raise one bushy eyebrow. He finds himself telling Shun the story of how he and Sayumi met and of their brief time together.
When he is done Shun remains silent for a time, looking out over the lights on the water. Finally he speaks.
“My marriage was arranged, of course,” he says. “And we were together for only a few years.” Taiki knows, as does everyone aboard, that Shun’s wife died tragically and young. And like everyone else, that is all he knows.
Shun continues. “But we loved each other. I would trade everything I have seen and done ever since for one more day with her. So I ask you, Takahashi. Are you a coward, or just a fool?”
Taiki opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again. “I think maybe...a bit of both, Chief.” Shun nods.
“You’ll do all right,” he says. “You just think too much, that’s all. You don’t find what you want very often in this life. When you do, act. Don’t waste time.”
“Thank you, Chief,” says Taiki. He bids Shun goodnight and heads back to his bunk. He now knows what letter he needs to write.
Left alone on the fantail Shun stands there for a time, looking out at the darkness. What his thoughts are no one can say.
“Don’t waste time,” he repeats to himself in a low voice. Then he too goes below.
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