1945

Mitsu Okimura walked over to the bunk where the young man who was now her good friend sat propped up and reading a book. When he saw her, he dropped the book on his lap and smiled.

Mitsu shyly returned the smile, but decided to be a nurse before succumbing to the pleasure of his company. She pulled back the covers and checked the wounds on his leg. The infections had almost all but disappeared, and the color of the surrounding skin was healthy. In a way, this dismayed her, as it meant he might be well enough to move on.

"Will I live?" Joe Nomura teased her. She was so serious, he thought, but so pretty.

"Very likely," she answered primly, but the twinkle in her eye betrayed her.

It was an easy thing to say now. Earlier, it had not been so definite. Nomura had shown up at the hospital almost delirious with fever and with a leg swollen to twice its normal size. Dr. Tanaka had considered amputation but decided against it because the young man had already lost an arm. Tanaka, with Mitsu assisting, had spent hours probing the infected flesh for the pieces of shrapnel that had caused the problem. Against all odds, they had succeeded through a combination of Tanaka's skill, and American sulfa and penicillin. There would be scars, but they would recede over time. When he was fully healed, Nomura wouldn't even limp.

Mitsu dropped the blanket back over his legs. "I have a question for you."

"Ask it."

"Several times I have had night duty and come by to see how you were. On a couple of occasions, you were thrashing in your sleep and speaking words I didn't quite understand."

Joe was touched that she would single him out for such care. Peace had brought a dramatic reduction in the number of patients, which meant she was free to indulge in him if she so wished. That she so wished was a pleasant thought.

The American field hospital he'd been trying to reach had closed up and moved for the same reason- no more customers. But now, what did he tell her? Well, he would begin with the truth, at least a little of it.

"It was probably English, Mitsu. I speak it very well."

Her eyes widened. "I thought so. I have learned a little of it here, and I thought I recognized some of the words. Have you been to America?"

He laughed. She said it as if it were some sort of holy place. "Yes. I spent some years in Hawaii."

"I would like to see America someday," she said solemnly. Mitsu eased him out of the bed and up to a standing position. He put his arm around her slight but strong shoulders, and she put hers around his waist. It was time to strengthen his legs so he could walk unaided. Already she suspected he didn't need to have his arm about her, but it was rather pleasant so she did not comment on it. So too she liked the feel of his body under her hands.

"Wouldn't you be afraid of all the Americans?" he asked.

"No," she said firmly. "At least not anymore." Proximity to the American hospital had shown her that the GIs were nothing but little boys who were as normal as Japanese men, just larger and louder.

"But what about the war, Mitsu? Weren't they your enemy?"

Mitsu was puzzled. Why had he said your enemy rather than our? "Once I hated the Americans. Now I realize that the whole war was an evil wrong that should never have happened. Now I realize too that the Japanese people were duped by warlords. No, Jochi, the Americans are not my enemy. They never were."

They stepped outside. It was chilly, but far from unpleasant. Besides, he could feel one of her small breasts against his side, and that was definitely keeping him warm. In the distance, he saw a car coming down the road.

"Mitsu, did you hear about American-born Japanese who helped the Americans invade Kyushu by spying on the Japanese and performing acts of sabotage?"

She nodded against his shoulder in such a way that he couldn't see her face. "And you're one of them, aren't you?"

Joe took a deep breath. At least that's over with, he thought. "Yes. Will you hate me for that?"

Mitsu looked up at him. Her dark eyes were clear with understanding. "You served your country. How could you be hated for doing that? Tell me, did anything you did truly help end the war?"

He laughed, surprising her. "Yes, Mitsu, it definitely did."

She smiled and squeezed him. "Then that was good and you are good." The car was drawing closer. Probably more American doctors looking for possible radiation-sickness victims, she thought. They couldn't quite believe there weren't any at the hospital.

"Jochi, when you leave, where will you go?"

"Back to Hawaii."

"I wish to go with you."

He was stunned and thrilled. She felt as deeply as he did. He hadn't been imagining it. They'd only known each other for a couple of weeks, but it felt like forever.

"What about your family?" Mitsu's mother and sister had been located in the north. There had been a brief reunion and a parting that had left Mitsu unsettled.