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Stalemate – Part 03

As his father strode closer, the girls screamed and retreated even further, raising their hands. Then, they glanced up at Kazuya with a hint of sadness, before letting out a collective shriek and dashing off down the street to make their escape.

“What’s going on out here?” Ruri asked as she appeared.

Kazuya turned to look, and upon seeing her, shook his head.

Before the war started, Ruri used to be a stylish female student, often seen wearing haori, hakama, boots, and a large ribbon in her black hair. However, now she was dressed like the girls from earlier, donning working clothes and plain wooden sandals. She still tied a ribbon in her hair, though. A tiny, inconspicuous one.

In the streets, women in traditional Japanese attire, as well as Western clothes, were disappearing, replaced by women and children in working clothes. The presence of young men was also diminishing, as they were being drafted one after another.

“I’ve been looking all over for you,” Ruri said.

“I was just taking a walk around the area. But I should start getting ready soon.”

“Yeah…” Ruri’s shoulders sagged as she cast a worried glance at Kazuya.

Since that spring day when he returned home, a persistent shadow hung around him, a hint of sorrow and pain that wasn’t there before. It was there this morning, too.

Ruri found it heartbreaking that Kazuya would be sent off to the battlefield without overcoming his distress. She leaned against his arm.

Hmm? His arms, once so thin as a stick, had now grown muscular and almost adult-like. Ruri quietly wondered if her mother was right. That he had become stronger. Still, she couldn’t quite comprehend it.

Ruri shut her eyes, trying to store the warmth of her brother’s arm in her memories. They almost tripped as they went past their father. She opened her eyes to see the darkness of the entryway approaching. Clinging tightly to Kazuya’s arm, Ruri closed her eyes again.

Back in his room, Kazuya carefully unfolded the cloth given to him by the girls earlier. His eyes widened in surprise, then he chuckled.

The fabric was embroidered with newly learned French words, some with incorrect spellings. It appeared the four of them had worked on it together. It bore the message “Hang in there, don’t give up, come back safely.” The cloth was adorned with charming patterns of flowers, trees, and fountains, which brought back memories of the magnificent French-style garden in that distant land, along with the image of a girl, small as a fairy, walking amidst vibrant, blooming flowers, her golden hair cascading down around her.

Kazuya’s eyes took on a distant look. He was caught in a daydream, picturing the conservatory where the girl was waiting for him.

“Kazuya, it’s time to go! Hurry up and change.”

His father’s voice brought him back to reality.

A brand new military uniform was neatly folded on the tatami beside him. Kazuya nodded, stood up, and pulled on his kimono sash. It slid down onto the mat. His soft breathing echoed in the room.

In the garden, the shishi-odoshi made another hollow clack.

---

Fighter jet engines roared high above.

Avril and Frannie strolled along the road of a small village situated an hour’s drive away from the outskirts of London, surrounded by sprawling wheat fields. Exchanging glances, they dove into the open field, now stripped of its wheat after harvest.

A low, foreboding hum shook the air as three fighter planes cruised above. Their bellies were an eerie gray. Avril ducked her head and let out a yelp.

As the fighter planes moved beyond their sight, they remained lying on their backs in the wheat field, gazing up at the sky. Frannie’s eyes were wide with fear, her lips pursed.

Avril wore an inscrutable expression. She looked to be calm and composed, yet at the same time extremely displeased.

Their golden hair glimmered under the morning winter sun.

“Can you believe it, Avril? It’s a real war,” Frannie said, pouting her lips even further. “I wonder if it’s still safe to stay in London. Our home, the cathedral, the palace…”

“How should we know? Let’s not dwell on it. Come on. Get up.”

Avril sprang to her feet. In that instant, she noticed a group of village boys observing them from the roadside and let out a scream. Hastily, she helped Frannie up, and they promptly brushed off the dirt and leaves from their clothing.

“What were you girls doing?”

“We thought you were hit by those planes. Where are you headed?”

“Those are some weird hats. You must be from London. What brings you here?”

Avril mentioned the name of the house they intended to visit.

“That’s just next door to us!” one of the boys exclaimed.

“Across the street from our house!”

“I know exactly where it is!”

The boys led the way down the road. A brisk northern wind blew, causing Frannie to hunch against the cold. Avril wrapped the scarf around her neck tighter.

---

The group arrived at a single-story stone house situated in the heart of the village.

A plump woman emerged from the barn, carrying armfuls of hay. “Oh, my. Aren’t you the Bradley kids?” she said, surprised. “You were once so small, and now you’ve blossomed into young ladies!”

She showed them inside the house.

“When I was young, I served as Sir Bradley’s assistant. We used to cross African rivers on rafts. Those were good times. How’s his wife doing? I heard that building in London has become a memorial museum. I’d love to visit someday.”

Avril’s eyes lit up like a cat sniffing catnip at the mention of rafts and African rivers. She leaned forward. Frannie, on the other hand, looked disgusted.

“She’s doing fine. She sent her regards to the Mistress.”

“Mistress? You mean me?” The woman laughed. “Frannie, I remember the time the Madam chased your father all around London and whacked him with a frying pan. Can’t quite recall why, though. Your father had a knack for riling her up all the time.”

“I-I see…”

“…and this is that very frying pan!”

“What?!”

The woman lifted up a large, well-used frying pan from the kitchen. Frannie jumped back in surprise, while Avril leaned in with curiosity.

“The bottom is dented!” Avril said. “Frannie, I’m surprised your dad didn’t die from the blow. That’s impressive!”

“When I got married and moved here,” the woman said, “the Madam said I could bring whatever I wanted. There were a lot of wonderful items in that building, but I ended up choosing this one. I still chuckle whenever I see it. It never gets old.”

“Look at that dent!” Avril flapped her hands around, laughing.

“Would you like to take this with you?”

“What? Oh, I almost forgot.” Avril suddenly remembered their purpose for coming here.

With the war intensifying, London was rapidly running out of supplies. Alongside milk and butter, essentials such as flour, eggs, ham, and fresh vegetables were becoming scarce, posing significant challenges.

Frannie rummaged through her bag and pulled something out, spreading it out on the kitchen table.

“Is that a quilt sewn by the Madam herself?!” the woman exclaimed. “She’s always been skilled with her fingers, and she has the patience, too. I wonder how many weeks it took to make it.”

It was a beautiful quilted bedspread made from various colorful fabrics. From a distance, one could see that it formed a pattern resembling a map of England.

“Oh, I can give it to my son for his bed,” she mumbled. “When he comes back from the war, he’ll be able to sleep soundly every night!”

She lapsed into silence. She seemed to be envisioning her son fighting in some distant land.

“Aren’t you afraid of being in London?” the woman asked. “I hear buildings are being destroyed by bombings, and people are getting injured or killed.”

“Y-Yeah…”

“If worse comes to worst, tell the Madam you can all evacuate to this village any time.”

She left the kitchen and returned with a large bag of flour, placing it on a chair. Sugar, salt, potatoes, and onions. She also brought a ham the size of Avril’s head.

Then, she realized something. “Wait, can you carry all this?”

Without waiting for their response, she stuck her head out of the door and called the local boys. As they shuffled in, she instructed them to carry the goods.

“Don’t make the ladies carry anything, okay? They’re the family of someone important to me.”

Avril thanked the woman and left the stone-built bungalow. When she noticed Frannie wasn’t around, she peeked into the house and saw her cousin discreetly caressing the dented bottom of the large frying pan. Feeling like she stumbled upon something she shouldn’t have, Avril quickly pulled her head back.

After a while, Frannie also came out. Avril acted as if she hadn’t seen anything.