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Region: Lerodas

Promise: Part III

600-Word Post

Yanomito

Chiyeko strides towards me. She now wore one of her kimonos, still fastened just well enough, leaving plenty of breathing room for and showcasing her body. She gives Shinobu an icy glare, enough for the timid doctor to flee the room. She narrows her eyes and turns her scowl to me.

“You were out for an entire month,” Chiyeko announces at last, her uncannily deadpan voice giving me chills for coming out of such an expressive face.

I clear my throat and try to respond. Chiyeko cuts me off, continuing, “The plan worked like a charm. Those loyal to me, the Desulans, and your friends managed to force the fascists and traitors into a surrender with no way off the island. The Desulans got some of the prisoners, as well as some cash and exports, for payment and then went back to their country.”

“Did you…” I make out with a raspy whisper, “hit me… while I was under…?”

Chiyeko ignores me completely, even though I spoke for the first time since waking up. “Ryoshiro, by all medical accounts, you would not have survived, let alone recovered to this extent so quickly. Even so, you fought hard. Why?” She sits at the side of the bed, her sharp eyes peering into mine.

“I made a promise,” I respond.

Chiyeko falls silent, taken aback.

“I don’t know what life’s gonna hold,” I continue, despite my lungs strongly suggesting I stop. “But I’m living on the promise that there’s gonna be things to not just die for, but to live for.” My heart flutters. I force it under control. “Like you, Chiyeko. You’ve helped me find this within myself. And I’m grateful.”

Chiyeko leans in, her pale arms enveloping my neck. She reaches for my lips, takes a sharp inhale through her nose and kisses me. She pulls away without saying anything, her eyes racing about in passion, yet uncertainty.

I sense this. “Chiyeko, it’s okay if you don’t want to help us. We can manage. Ask yourself what you want.”

“I want you,” Chiyeko blurts, boldly, unhesitantly, staring into my eyes with assuredness. That was the only thing she truly knows.

She stands. “I made a promise too,” she announces, a newfound drive in her eyes. “Let’s make arrangements for your people.”

========

Yanomito

The wind whistles shrilly above the placid waves licking at the black sands of the Yanomito beach. Sheets of ocean foam pull towards, then away from my wheelchair, as if trying to get as close to the front wheels they can without touching them.

It was a long day. Days after my awakening, I was deemed able to go outside, even if temporarily bound to my wheelchair. Chiyeko had already made arrangements for her Desulan contacts to take Jinmin Kumiaiha and Jidanketsu partisans and agents to South Rahmia to catch flights to Aatelisia and Ahsenkhawen respectively, to lobby for weapons and vehicles of any sort. All we have to offer are IOUs. Hopefully they’re accepted currency in the wider communist world, if our struggle itself didn’t yield any sympathies. As such, the remainder of the day was spent burying the dead. Inao was the hardest to bury. Harder still was Eijo’s silence throughout the whole thing. I had told him that she had received those fatal wounds a hero. No response.

Now we wait in Yanomito’s harbor, with Chiyeko’s underlings discussing matters of logistics and such with Desulan sailors. The partisans were already onboard a small Desulan barge, to be transported in shipping containers of “hazardous materials.” Eijo, Shinobu-san, and the rest of the communist union members were already en route to Haitoshiya, awaiting outside aid to take the fight to the Kuroikumo’s heart. I would have to wait until I fully recover.

The ship’s horn blared crudely. It gaudily belched billows of smoke as sailors raced across the deck like ants at this distance, shouting incomprehensibly. The barge began to shudder and groan, then move, ever so slowly, out of the dock.

“What are you going to do after you’re successful?” Chiyeko asks behind me. She was attending me in my wheelchair the entire day.

“I don’t know. I wanna get away from it all. As much as I wanna see the ideals of Obushira, Nieminen, Koskinen, and Canaqa implemented into Inomora’s governance, I’m tired of the fighting. When justice comes to Inomora, I’m going to step away as soon as I can.”

“Do you think they’re going to seize my castle?” Chiyeko jests. There was a bit of fear behind her joviality.

“The Yorukomori would likely have to find a new base of operations, likely in Desula,” I deduce, putting a hand to my chin. “Plus, all land would likely be put under state control. At least state taxes on land would likely be cut as well. But I’ll see what I can do about your castle. At least its grounds.”

Chiyeko falls silent, then cautiously inhales. “You were talking about things to live for. Let me give you another.” She falls to her knees, pressing her face right up against my ear. “After this is done, and you commies are going to win this, wherever that might be, let’s live together. In peace. Away from it all. I’m tired of this life too. Of running an empire. A house and farm will do.” She stands, going in front of me, then drops to her knees again. “Promise?”

I nod. “I promise.”

Desula, Ludernia, Norou, and Ixtlacan

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