Blood Stained Hands

by Tsuyuno

mines mines mines. blah di blah. don't steal. ect. u get the point right?

Laying face up, he looked at the millions of bright twinkling dots of lights in the sky. He sighed. It was a pity he couldn’t paint it. He had put down his paintbrush and picked up a sword for the first time when his country called for him. He didn’t really care about the war though. He only did it to save his family’s honor. War was stupid and it didn’t really resolve anything. All you ended up with was bitterness between two countries and hundreds of thousands of souls floating around. How many legs and arms of young men had been sacrificed in this meaningless war, this power struggle?

The innumerable numbers of lives affected by this war were so many that no one was left unaffected. The countries that had traded with Aveh or Kirlia were unable to import or export any finished products or raw materials to either country, thus affecting their economies. Trenches had been dug, destroying scenic nature, degrading the splendor of undisturbed natural beauty. Families with even the tiniest bit of blood relation to the opposing sides were persecuted and mercilessly killed. It was war and the leaders of the nation had become extremely overcome with paranoia when an assassination attempt on the king’s life had nearly succeeded. They were willing to do almost anything to force their enemies into submission. But so far, more harm had been done than benefits gained. Everything is connected to everything else. He remembered his old science tutor saying so. Guess it must apply to everything.

He remembered when the draft notice came five months ago. The army had waited long enough for the people to enlist so they resorted to the draft notice, being short of people. His parents were so shocked and worried. They cried and tried to protest to no avail, his mother especially. His mother had cried out in shock, “Satoru’s only 16!” The man had replied, “16? This brat’s old enough to fight for his country. Dulce et decorum est pro patri mori! Nagai-san, you must understand the dire situation we are in. We have no other choice and your family has an excellent military record. In fact, it is the most prestigious name in the military history of Aveh. You are too old to fight anymore but we believe your son can be trained to keep up the family name. He will be the best solider out of all soldiers.” That was what convinced his father to let him go. He remembered feeling neither enthusiastic nor angry when he was told he was to join the war. In fact, he had felt nothing, nothing at all. He had felt apathetic, numb to all emotions. Now, all the feelings that had eluded him before came crashing down on him. He laughed bitterly out loud. All the feelings that he felt and expressed only through painting were now haunting him constantly. He wondered if that was a good thing. His parents had been worried about his lack of response to anything except painting.

“What’s wrong Satoru?” asked Abel, a friend that he made during training camp. They were now so close that they were bunk buddies in this stupid goddamned trench. Abel was a cheery guy and he had enough cheer to spread around to the entire army but he was weird sometimes. He was a hyper 15 year old kid and Satoru couldn’t help but wonder why this younger boy never showed any signs of fear, hesitation, or a wavering of faith. Abel’s actions and beliefs were a wonder. One minute he’s all smiles and the next, he’s got eyes colder than ice.

Satoru said,” Nothing, I was just contemplating our current situation and how much I’ve changed these past few months.”

Abel frowned. “You’re not that different from when I first met you.” He looked at Satoru from top to bottom. There was nothing different, or was there?

Satoru smiled bitterly,” Of course I’ve changed, mostly internally though. I’m not surprised you can’t tell the difference. I used to be an extreme introvert, isolating myself from the rest of society. I was only happy when I painted. Heck, I only felt when I painted. The rest of the time I put on a mask to hide myself, showing only false emotions when I really felt nothing inside. So I’m not really sure if this is a blessing in disguise. My eyes have been opened. I can now see differently and understand some things more now. Some things don’t change though. I still love painting as much as ever.” Abel blinked. He never realized this fact or saw anything. He now felt that he finally met the genuine Satoru. He had felt that Satoru was only putting on smiles to be nice to him, but that gradually changed as they became closer friends. Now, it was if he was truly seeing Satoru for the first time.

Satoru looked at his hands sadly. “My hands,” he said, gradually lowering his voice to a desperate whisper,” they used to paint canvases with brilliant colors depicting the beauty of the human soul, but now they only paint blood. My sword is my paintbrush and I paint the ground with the blood of young men. My hands, they’re blood stained. I’m a murderer.”

Abel puffed out his chest and said,” You’re not a murderer! It’s war. We must divide and conquer. That is the objective of an attack. To win, we use any possible means that are necessary, even if we have to make a Trojan horse. We must learn not to let things like that bother us. We must learn not to complain, and to move quickly. We must learn to be obedient soldiers. To show cowardice is to show weakness. We must be brave until the very end. We are defending our country against the danger of an attack from the enemy. We are the ones on the front! Remember, dulce et decorum est pro patria mori. It is sweet and good to die for your country. Don’t let warfare bother you.” Satoru looked at him blankly. He smiled.

“Don’t worry about me Abel. I’m not going to commit suicide or genocide or anything. I’m reevaluating my goals, dreams, morals and values. I’m not so sure that everything is just plain black and white anymore. I’m surer than ever that are gray areas too. It can’t all be Kirlia’s fault and it can’t all be Aveh’s fault. I can’t say for sure thatit’s even our leaders fault. I used to believe that everything that happened was caused by our leaders but now I’m not so sure. They’re only doing what they can to protect us but I’m not so sure that what they’re doing is necessarily right. I think they’re becoming dictators and our government is becoming totalitarian. Anyways, we’d better get some sleep now. We need as much as we can get. It’s been a while since we were allowed to sleep.” Abel gave him a thumbs up, smiled and rolled over on his bunk to sleep. He closed his eyes. Tomorrow would be a long day.

Satoru began to think again but his eyelids suddenly weighed more and he finally gave into the weariness he felt. He closed his eyes. He was so tired. His muscles ached and his legs were sore. He hadn’t had a decent meal for goodness knows how long. Soon, Satoru drifted into a long, well deserved sleep that was not haunted by the faces of the many people he had killed. There were not cries of “dead on the battlefield” or “saved by the bell” or “ATTACK!” This was to be his last undisturbed rest before the final ; the peaceful rest would not last.

“WAKE UP!” Satoru groaned. Did Abel always have to be this loud? He tried to swat Abel away. He felt a strong grip on his arm and he opened his eyes. Abel looked at him with somber eyes. Something was wrong. Satoru sat up and said,” What’s wrong? You look so serious.” The air around them had crackled with uneasiness and tension. The other soldiers were moving about restlessly. Some were saying their goodbyes and some were praying to God. Some laughed it off and some mediated. Satoru wondered if they were always like that, or if they were like him, only changing when it became necessary.

Abel said,” The battle starts. We’re departing now.” Satoru once again felt nothing when the news was burst to him but soon the reality of it all hit him in the face. This was to be the final battle, the victor would be decided. That was why they were allowed to rest. They were to go all out today, risking their lives for a lost cause. Satoru looked at some of the other soldiers. A great deal of them had come into the war with a great sense of nationalism but now they were broken. They had become disillusioned with the war and with the leaders. Satoru wondered if this was temporary or final. He shook the thought off his mind and reached for his sword and armor. He would not dishonor his family.

The soldiers marched stiffly to the battlefield. The sun was shining bright despite the situation and the wind blew a gentle breeze as if to reassure them. Satoru breathed in the scent of pines, grass and nature before a nauseating stench appeared. It was the smell of blood, the smell of burnt dead bodies, the smell of a loss, and most importantly, the smell of death and war. Satoru despised this smell. He could already feel the bile in his throat as they approached the battlefield. “A sea of blood,” thought Satoru,” this is what awaits us, a sea of blood.” Corpses were strewn about everywhere. The ground was seeping with blood. It seemed as if the ground had a craving for blood, for every drop of blood that fell was absorbed no matter what. Red everywhere, blood everywhere, death everywhere was all they could see. The horrified looks, the widened eyes, the blood gushing from their bodies was enough to make anyone sick.

Body parts were also strewn about and it was disgusting the way the scavenger birds seemed to circle overhead, laughing at them, laughing as if they knew that a soldier’s death would be inevitable in this battle, that they would have many good meals because the foolish humans fought and killed each other. All the work would be done for them and all they had to do was pick away at the decomposing flesh, eating to their heart’s delight.

Then, with no particular timing, the battle had started. It happened so fast that Satoru had barely enough time to think. He blocked and parried attacks, countering at some points. He slashed blindly about, struggling to survive. The adrenaline was beginning to flow in his body. He didn’t want to die yet. He wanted to paint something with his hands one last time before he died. War cries were heard everywhere, ramming themselves into the soldiers’ heads. Satoru felt a sharp pain in his side as his gasped for breath. He had stabbed. He now slashed his sword about more violently, in frenzy. He didn’t want to die yet. He didn’t! But the battle seemed to rage on forever, never wanting to end. He felt a throbbing pain in his shoulder. His sword felt heavier. Suddenly, Satoru stopped. He was too tired to struggle anymore. He didn’t want to fight. He didn’t want to deal with the decisions and the guilt. He didn’t want to think. He didn’t want to live, period. He felt more pain as he fell to the ground, eyes closed. He opened his eyes and saw a pool of blood engulfing him. He never knew how much blood he had until now. “So tired,” thought Satoru. He slowly closed his eyes and he heard the stop. An armistice had been signed between the two countries. He smiled. He had done his part by sending a letter to the ruling king of Aveh and he had also talked to many high ranking officers about pacifism and peace. Now he lay there, waiting for death. He finally allowed himself to drift into sleep. He was at peace now. No more war, no more struggle, finally peace would be achieved between the two warring countries. The main council of the continent of Enels had intervened and stopped the war. Satoru felt serene and tranquil. It was finally over.

::whatcha think? should I dedicate a series to Satoru and Abel?::

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