Toda had been lying on the ground for hours, waiting for the night to fall. He knew that he had to get out of there, to find his friends, or to find help. But he also knew that he was in enemy territory, surrounded by soldiers who wanted to kill him. He had no weapon, no radio, no map, no compass. He only had a knife, that he had taken from a dead enemy soldier. He also had a wound, that was bleeding and infected. He felt weak and feverish, and he knew that he wouldn't last long.
He decided to make his move, when the darkness covered the forest. He crawled out of the branch, and dragged himself to a nearby bush. He looked around, and saw no sign of life. He hoped that the enemy had left, or that they had not noticed him. He tried to stand up, but he fell back down. He was too dizzy and tired. He decided to crawl, instead. He crawled slowly and quietly, avoiding any light or sound. He hoped to find a road, or a river, or a friendly base. He hoped to find a way out.
He had been crawling for a while, when he heard a voice. He stopped, and listened. It was a human voice, speaking in a language that he did not understand. It was the enemy. He looked around, and saw a flashlight. It was coming closer. He panicked, and hid behind a tree. He held his knife, and prepared to fight. He knew that he had no chance, but he also knew that he had no choice.
The flashlight reached the tree, and a figure appeared. It was a soldier, wearing a helmet and a vest. He had a rifle, and a pistol. He was looking for something, or someone. He was looking for him. He shone his flashlight around, and spotted him. He pointed his rifle, and shouted something. He was about to shoot.
Toda acted on instinct. He jumped out of his hiding place, and lunged at the soldier. He stabbed him in the throat, and twisted the knife. He felt the blood spurt out, and the life drain out. He felt the soldier go limp, and fall to the ground. He felt a surge of adrenaline, and a pang of guilt. He had killed a man, for the first time.
He grabbed the soldier's rifle, and his pistol. He checked the ammo, and the safety. He put them on his shoulder, and his waist. He also took his flashlight, and his radio. He turned them off, and put them in his pocket. He looked at the soldier's face, and saw a young man, not much older than him. He saw a human being, not an enemy. He wondered what his name was, what his story was, what his dream was. He wondered if he had any friends, or family, or loved ones. He wondered if he had killed them, too.
He felt a wave of sadness, and anger. He realized that he had been lied to, that he had been used. He realized that the war was not about freedom and justice, but about power and greed. He realized that the soldiers were not heroes, but victims. He realized that the enemy was not evil, but human. He realized that he had been wrong, all along.
But he also remembered his friends, Emily and Koiner. He remembered their smiles, their jokes, their hugs. He remembered their dreams, their hopes, their plans. He remembered their loyalty, their courage, their love. He remembered that they were his family, his people, his reason. He remembered that they were still out there, somewhere, waiting for him.
He decided to keep his perspective, to keep his side. He decided to stay loyal to his army, to his friends. He decided to fight for his country, to fight for his cause. He decided to survive, for them.
