7 January 1942
The next day, they didn't go far but not too close either. Just close enough to see, to understand. Close enough to feel the ghost of the battlefield under their feet, but not close enough to get caught in the flames again.
It was morning. A bright, almost mocking morning. The sun hung lazily in the sky, shining down on them as if nothing had happened. The world was too quiet.
Last night, neither of them had slept. Not really. The distant sounds of artillery, machine gun fire, and dying men echoed long after the noise faded. Even in silence, the war lingered. In their bones. In their nerves. In their breath.
Still, they stayed. They should've left the area entirely. But instead, they remained near the edge of the battlefield tempted by the need to know.
They looked at each other, hollow eyed and barely holding it together.
"Hey… it's kinda quiet now," Aman said softly, turning to Mei Lian. Her eyes were bloodshot. She hadn't slept at all.
"I know. No artillery. No explosions," she murmured. "Did the Japanese already wipe out the rest of the army?"
Aman didn't answer right away. They both looked drained. Nothing about them was sharp anymore no rage, no fear. Just tired questions with no one to answer them.
They wanted to check. To see the aftermath.
It might've been a stupid decision. Suicidal, even. But the curiosity was stronger than fear now.
They started walking.
They retraced their steps back to the place they'd run from the night before. Aman pulled out his binoculars, adjusted the lens, and looked toward the distant British lines or what remained of them.
He didn't speak for a moment. Then, slowly, he handed the binoculars to Mei Lian.
"Here. You'll want to see this."
She took them and raised them to her eyes, unsure what to expect.
What she saw made her freeze.
Not because of the slaughter that part didn't shock her anymore, not after everything. She expected that. She wanted to feel sick. But that wasn't what disturbed her.
"It's him…" she whispered.
Aman looked at her. "The Kodoha officer?"
"Yeah. It's him."
Aman furrowed his brow. No particular emotion crossed his face. Just a vague recognition. "So he was the one who ordered the strike last night…"
They kept watching in silence.
The Japanese were overrunning the final British command posts. What few defenders remained were being wiped out mercilessly. The Indian troops under British command were being treated like livestock beheaded, burned alive. Executed with cruelty that didn't serve any purpose but to entertain.
One British medic tried to crawl out from under a makeshift shelter to help a wounded soldier. The moment he reached out, a Japanese officer spotted him. A single shot. Two corpses.
Diabolical. But Aman and Mei Lian didn't flinch anymore.
"Huh. These animals really will shoot anything that moves," Aman said with quiet disgust.
"Yeah… what animals," Mei Lian echoed. Her voice was flat, emotionless.
Their attention returned to the Kodoha officer. He stood among the chaos, hands clasped behind his back, smiling faintly. He didn't issue many commands. He simply observed. Calm. Serene. Like it was all beneath him.
It hit them then.
Coming back here had been stupid.
"Yeah... this was a dumb idea," Mei Lian muttered.
"Guess I'll take the blame," Aman said, chuckling weakly.
"I'm going to kill you," she said, deadpan.
"Yeah. Fair."
Before they could say more, they noticed something that made their stomachs dropJapanese soldiers spotting them. Guns raised. They noticed them early but yeah they wonder if they run away they being shot well not much different after all.
They froze.
Aman lifted a hand. "Hey! Do you speak Malay? English, maybe?"
The soldiers didn't answer. They just kept their rifles trained on the two of them.
Mei Lian raised her hands too. Her expression was calm unnervingly calm. Almost like this didn't surprise her.
The soldiers approached quickly and surrounded them. Within seconds, they were disarmed and shoved forward. No real violence just rough handling. No screams. No bayonets. Not yet.
It was almost… tame.
Oddly tame.
They didn't touch Mei Lian not beyond shoving her once or twice. She braced herself for worse, but nothing came. No leering. No cruelty. It was mechanical. Cold. Almost respectful.
Aman had the same thought. He'd expected worse.
And that, in itself, shocked them.
They were shocked by how mild it was. How quiet. How controlled.
They didn't get an answer for why not yet.
...
They were taken to the officer.
And there he was the man they remembered from that distant briefing, from that last minute before the attack. The officer who had given the silent order. A man in a pristine uniform, silver-rimmed glasses gleaming in the sunlight.
"Halo," he said cheerfully. "Told you we'd meet again."
Aman clenched his jaw. "You…"
Mei Lian remained silent, eyes narrowed. Best not to say anything.
But she whispered under her breath, barely audible. "Fucking animal."
The officer smiled. "Did you say something?" His tone was warm, almost friendly. But it was fake. Too perfect. His politeness was unnatural, like an actor reading a script.
He adjusted his glasses.
Mei Lian shook her head.
Aman looked at him squarely. "So. You told them not to kill us? That's why they only punched me in the stomach? Why they didn't do more to her?"
The officer nodded casually. "Yes. That was me."
"And why's that?" Aman asked. He didn't sound angry anymore. Just… done. "Why let us live?"
The officer's smile widened, but he didn't answer.
Aman's gaze hardened. "So. What now?"
There was silence for a moment.
The officer turned, slowly walking toward a wooden table where a Japanese radio operator was making notes. The officer gestured for Aman and Mei Lian to sit down on a pair of crates across from him.
They hesitated but obeyed. They had no weapons. No plan.
He finally spoke again.
"You're not soldiers," he said. "And yet… here you are. You ran into our operation, watched us burn your friends alive. And still, you came back."
Mei Lian replied coldly, "We wanted to know what happened."
"Yes. That's what I find interesting," the officer said. "Curiosity is dangerous. But it also makes you… useful."
Aman leaned forward. "If you think we're going to help you"
"I don't want your help," the officer interrupted smoothly. "I want you to understand."
They both stared at him, waiting.
"This is war," he continued. "Brutal. Unforgiving. But war is also... cleansing. Necessary. We do what we must. What your British masters never had the will to do."
"Is that what you told yourself when you watched your men burn prisoners alive?" Mei Lian asked, her voice like ice.
He chuckled. "Prisoners? No. They were enemies. Enemies who would shoot us in the back if they had the chance."
"Then what are we?" Aman asked.
The officer didn't reply. Instead, he stood, adjusted his coat, and nodded to a soldier nearby.
"Put them in the my tent just put them in cage," he said. "Let them rest. Feed them. I'll talk to them again."
Mei Lian and Aman stood slowly, stunned into silence.
As they were led away, one thought echoed in their minds:
Why were they still alive?
Whatever the reason... it wasn't kindness.
It was something worse.
And they both knew they hadn't seen the last of this.