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The Bridge Builder – Part 05

Victorique stumbled onto the bridge, glowing like a mystic fairy bathed in silver light. Groaning, she got up and surveyed her surroundings slowly.

She was currently in the middle of the Brooklyn Bridge with Kujou, but at the same time, she was on a bridge in wartime Germany. From the New World bridge came the cheers of the crowd, while from the Old World bridge came the sounds of gunfire, cannon blasts, groans, screams.

Soldiers lay in heaps in front of her, smoke rising, the air thick with the smell of blood. A white flower slowly drifted from the chest of a soldier who looked like William Trayton. Someone stepped on it, crushing it. Eddie Sawyer’s sobbing song played in the background: “When the cranberry flowers bloom… I’m going home… going home… Mom is… waiting for me.”

The image of William and Eddie trading punches in boxing gear on the present-day bridge flickered. Victorique’s consciousness was anchored in past Germany, while her body remained on the current bridge in New York. Eddie Sawyer took a punch and fell on his back. Kazuya gasped. The referee started counting: “One, two… three…” William raised his hands to the audience, returning to his corner.

On the bridge in the past, Eddie also lay on his back, back arched, his face wounded and bleeding. William sat up, holding a gun. Victorique’s consciousness moved closer to Eddie. She lay down next to him and arched her back, looking at William from the same perspective.

A friendly-looking young man with a baby face stood between Eddie and William. For some reason, his head was adorned with white flowers, and his eyes were closed. He wore an American military uniform.

“That must be Luke. Hmm, I’ve got a good look at his face now.”

William aimed his gun from a distance.

“D-Don’t shoot, William!” Eddie shouted. “What are you doing?!”

William pulled the trigger. Luke fell with a thud.

“Hmm.”

Victorique blinked, and the past receded.

On the Brooklyn Bridge, the referee continued counting.

“Four, five, six…”

Victorique slowly opened her eyes. She was back in Eddie’s corner. Kazuya stood on her right, Mitch on her left. Mitch was shouting at Eddie, fists clenched. Kazuya held back the crowd pressing in from behind, desperately protecting Victorique.

The audience booed. “You’re too weak, challenger!”

“Hang in there a bit longer!”

Eddie struggled to get up.

“Seven, eight…”

Eddie forced himself to stand, assuming a fighting stance with both fists in front of his abdomen. Staggering, he touched gloves with William. Eddie threw a punch but missed. William laughed. Using the opening, Eddie’s hook struck William in the gut. William reeled. The crowd gasped. William fell on his rear, and the referee started counting, “One, two…” Eddie returned to his corner.

Victorique, shielded by Kazuya’s arms, narrowed her eyes and watched William intently. Her consciousness slowly drifted back to the bridge on the Old World.

The bombardment went on. Dawn arrived. Snow was falling. Victorique’s breath turned white. Her shimmering silver hair and beast-like green eyes glowed in the dark, gray battlefield. Her pink dress was wet and darkened in the snow, the frills fluttering in the cold wind.

Step by step, Victorique approached William Trayton. “What did you see?” she murmured, blending into his perspective.

In front of William stood a German soldier. His face was hidden beneath his cap, but his uniform was unmistakably German. For some reason, he was unarmed and stood in a fighting stance with his fists clenched in front of his chest.

William was paralyzed with fear. Eddie lay on his back, back arched, staring in his direction. Eddie was shouting something, but he couldn’t hear.

William pulled the trigger. The black bullet, frozen with the shooter’s terror, flew, piercing the German’s chest. The soldier dropped to his knees and collapsed.

William screamed, closed his eyes, and fainted.

“Five, six…” the referee counted.

Victorique opened her eyes again. On the Brooklyn Bridge, Victorique stood in Eddie’s corner, protected by Kazuya. William had just managed to get to his feet in the ring. Eddie and William touched gloves once more. The bell rang. Both men tottered back to their corners.

“Stay calm,” Mitch said while tending to Eddie. “You can see the punches now.”

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “I’m fine now.”

The bell rang again. The boxers stood up and returned to the center of the ring.

Eddie threw a jab first. William dodged skillfully and landed a punch on Eddie’s face. The audience erupted as Eddie stumbled. But now Eddie’s punches began landing on William’s face as well.

“I’ve been keeping something to myself,” Mitch suddenly told Victorique.

Victorique raised her head.

“I thought I shouldn’t tell anyone why I fell under the bridge that night, so I kept quiet about it.”

Victorique nodded silently. Kazuya listened too.

Snowflakes began to flit around Mitch. He was in an American military uniform. There was dried blood on his cheek. Bullets whizzed by, and white smoke rose.

“Detective, I heard you’re real smart,” Mitch said despondently. “Sobbing because you’re too smart. What an amusing lady. Will you listen to my secret?”

“Speak. This bridge connects the past and the present. I am here, a traveler sent by the hand of the dead to seek your past.”

Mitch slowly lifted his face. Tears ran down his dusty, mud-streaked face. He wiped it with the back of his bloodied hand.

“During the battle right after the Christmas Truce,” he began in a shaky voice.

Bullets zipping through the air. Piles of fallen soldiers. Mitch, bleeding from his right arm and left shoulder, staggered forward, groaning.

Through the veil of smoke, he bumped hard into a German soldier coming from the opposite direction. Mitch shrieked. The German soldier hurriedly aimed his gun and pulled the trigger. Mitch shouted, “I’m done for!” and squeezed his eyes shut.

Click, click. The gun was out of bullets. Clicking his tongue, the German soldier tried to reload, then lifted his gaze. “It’s you.”

Mitch cautiously opened his eyes, “Huh?”

Under the German military cap was Dragline’s face. A German university student with almond-shaped eyes and a strong jaw.

“Oh, it’s you,” Mitch muttered.

But when he saw the reloaded gun, he started trembling again. He clambered over the railing to escape, but his injured shoulder and arm prevented him.

Mitch quickly gave up, turned around, and said, “Looks like this is it for me. If I gotta die at the hands of Germany’s champ, then that’s a hell of a way to go for me. Go on, shoot, Dragline!”

“O-Okay. Here I go!”

“I’m done for!”

When the gun still didn’t fire, Mitch said, “It’s fine, Dragline. This is war.” He raised both arms and started singing, “Silent night, holy night. All is calm… Hey, Dragline. Hurry up. The suspense is killing me. Dragline?” When he opened his eyes, he saw Dragline staring at him with a grimace.

“Mitch, was it? The guy who was talking about chicken soup earlier?”

“Yeah, that’s me. Now, shoot!”

“With your arms like that, you’re pretty much dead.”

Mitch laughed. “Don’t need you to tell me that. I may be poor, but I ain’t dumb. Now kill me!”

“Stay down.”

“Huh?”

“If you play dead down there, you might just get lucky and survive.”

Dragline put away his gun, grabbed Mitch’s legs, and hoisted him up. Mitch fell from the bridge and landed on a pile of corpses in the river.

“Wh-Why?” Mitch looked up at the bridge, nursing his painful arm and shoulder. “Why would you save someone like me?” He strained to see the bridge covered in white smoke. Even as he was losing consciousness from the pain, he focused on the bridge.

Back on the present-day Brooklyn Bridge.

The match continued. Eddie’s punch landed, pushing William into the corner. They clinched and stumbled back to the center of the ring. The crowd’s cheers grew louder. Despite being jostled from both sides, Kazuya kept his arms spread out to shield Victorique. The bright moon glimmered in the night sky.

“I never told anyone about this,” Mitch said.

“I-I understand,” Kazuya said. “You were also worried about Dragline.”

“Yeah. Dragline was a famous student champion in Germany, a bit of a hero among the young guys. If word got out that he helped an American soldier during battle, it wouldn’t be good. To repay him, I kept my mouth shut even after I got home, not even telling my close friend Eddie.” Mitch hung his head. “I ain’t got much schooling and could hardly read a newspaper, so I didn’t know Dragline died in that battle until just now.”

Stars twinkled high above. Gradually, they transformed into snowflakes drifting down onto an old bridge from the past. The white flakes gently fell on Victorique and Kazuya.

Snow also settled on William and Eddie, who continued their fight in the ring. The past and present began to blur.

“By looking into your memory, I learned what Dragline looked like. Now let’s dive back into William’s memory.”

Victorique closed her eyes. Kujo hunched over her, shielding her from the pressing crowd.

In the ring, William took a powerful punch to the jaw and was sent flying. The referee began counting as William struggled to rise.

Victorique shivered and was transported once more into the past. Back to the bridge in Germany.