Page 31 of Daikon

“You’ve been here?” asked Yagi.

Kan nodded in the dark. “Before the war.”

It had been in 1938, the year after his return from the United States.

Kan had passed through Numazu with Noriko after a trip to the hot springs at Hakone, the onsen where she had conceived.

She was pleased after counting the weeks back to figure that out.

And then came their baby, their beautiful little girl.

They had no difficulty choosing a name. They both agreed she should be Aiko, meaning “child of love.”

They were through the town now, the train picking up speed.

Then they hit a bad section of track that almost knocked Kan off his feet.

It was in that moment, Yagi supporting him as they staggered back to their seats on the floor in the circle of light from the lantern, that Kan realized that he felt a closeness to this strange man who differed from him in almost every conceivable way.

“Those must have been painful,” he said, nodding toward the burns on Yagi’s shoulder and neck. “How did it happen?”

Yagi made the dismissive humph that Kan now recognized as one of his usual sounds.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking.”

“Mind?” Yagi took out his cigarettes. “Why should I mind?” He tapped one out and lit it, handed it to Kan and lit another for himself.

They smoked in silence.

Suddenly Yagi broke out in a song, making Kan jump. “?‘I fought and fucked all across the South, and then I came home to Mother!’?”

He settled back with a wistful smile, then noticed Kan’s bemused look.

“A little song one of my pals dreamed up,” Yagi explained. “Ryuji Sakamoto. ‘Filthy’ Sakamoto. He’s dead. They’re all dead now.”

He lowered his head, a look of sadness clouding his face. He fought it off with another snatch of song: “?‘When the Navy’s in town, the ladies lift up their gowns.’?”

He fell silent. The look of sadness returned.

“It must have been difficult,” Kan said. “Losing your friends.”

Yagi concentrated on his cigarette, smoking it down to nothing and crumbling the stub with the callused ends of his fingers.

He turned to Kan. “So, do you want to hear my war story?”

“Yes, I’d be interested. If you don’t mind.”

“ Humph . There you go again—‘mind.’?”

Yagi took out his dice, settled back, and began.

“All right. So, I was an able seaman on an oil tanker. The Iro . Worked down in the engine room. You know what an oil tanker is like?”

Kan shook his head.

“Well, it’s not like an aircraft carrier or a battleship, I can tell you. Or even a cruiser or a destroyer. Floating fortresses, that’s what those are. Palaces. You at least have a chance. But in a stinking oil tanker…” Yagi shook his head.

“We were in the Caroline Islands for most of 1942. Truk, Rabaul, Bougainville, Tulagi—we sailed all around down there. Even Port Moresby in New Guinea.”

A chuckle.

“Ugly women down there. You know that saying ‘A sailor has a woman in every port’? Well, I’d have said, ‘Not in Port Moresby! No thank you!’ But after you’ve been away for a while… humph!

“Anyway, we got it the first time in the Marshall Islands, out of Jaluit. Torpedo from an American sub. That was February ’43.

Eight thousand tons of fuel in our tanks and we get hit by a torpedo.

We should’ve been blown sky high, right?

But we weren’t. Two months of repairs to keep us afloat, then we were taken under tow back to Kure.

Almost made it, too, when another sub caught us.

Two hits this time. And we still didn’t blow.

The luckiest unlucky ship in the Navy, that’s what we said.

Six months on shore for repairs, then we’re off again for the South and I’m thinking: Yagi, this is it. Your luck is used up. ”

He fell silent for a moment, remembering.

“We’d lost the Carolines by then. It was Kalimantan now, taking on crude oil at Balikpapan and convoying to Palau.

That’s where we got it again. Another American sub.

That made it three times. We got to Palau, but they were right on us.

Hit the port first, bombed and strafed the whole place.

That’s when I had my first good look at a Hellcat.

We were anchored in a lagoon on Peleliu, so they missed us.

But they sniffed us out the next day. BOOM.

” Yagi clapped his hands. “Direct hit to the engine room. Lifted us right out of the water.”

“The engine room,” said Kan. “But you were…”

Yagi shook his head. “I was on one of the anti-aircraft guns up on deck. We were shorthanded, so they had me on the twenty-millimeter when we were at anchor. I was firing at that Hellcat as it’s coming at us.

The next thing I remember I’m in the water and I’m drowning and the Iro is burning.

Burned for two weeks before it sank. Forty-seven men dead.

Captain Kitamura, everyone in the engine room. But not me.”

“Drowning…” Kan repeated the word. He looked at Yagi intently, thinking of his daughter, Aiko, wanting him to continue.

Yagi remained silent, the dice motionless in his hand.

Kan gently prompted. “That must have been… Was it…”

“A boy I knew drowned when I was eight,” said Yagi. “My father told me it was a peaceful way to go, I suppose because I was upset and he wanted to settle me down. And like a dumb kid I believed him. But there’s nothing peaceful about drowning. Sheer panic, that’s what it is.”

He paused, remembering, anguish coming in his face.

“There were three of us in the water,” he continued, his voice quiet.

“Me and Tokage and Ensign Kaneko. Flailing around. Clawing at each other over this one piece of wood.” He shook his head sadly.

“The animal in you, it comes out when you’re drowning.

You can’t help it… I was just stronger than them. ”

They sat together in silence, staring at the floor, lost in their thoughts.

Yagi was first to turn away from the darkness.

“And that ,” he said with forced levity, “was the fourth and last time we were hit. And here I am. So I guess four is my lucky number.” He used the pronunciation shi for four, which also meant death.

“I was shipped home after that, spent the rest of the year in the hospital and was promoted to petty officer first class. They said it was because I shot down that Hellcat. And to encourage people like me. Ha! And yes, the burns were painful. Then I was reassigned to Hikari, and I became petty officer second class.”

“What do you mean, ‘people like me’?” asked Kan.

Yagi remained silent for a moment, then waved the question away. “It doesn’t matter.”

He started rolling the dice in his hand.