“Otōsan!” A man with short graying hair looked up from the position he had been in on the floor. A teenage boy rushed in, a journal in his hand. However, he fell up short when heads turned to look at him. He noticed that not only were his father and mother there, but a couple of their friends as well. His face felt hot, and he backed out of the room.

 He should have known. Otōsan said he and Okāsan were having friends over today… He walked out onto the dirt path that led up and down the barracks housing the other Japanese families.

 Maybe he should go see Ms. Nakamura. She might like the new journal he got and could give him some ideas! Haruto hurried along the path, feeling uncomfortable at the open space. He used to be bullied back before they were taken here, for his looks and reserved personality, resulting in his avoiding people. Fortunately, he made it to the end of the barrack and turned, almost crashing straight into Hamasaki Satoshi. The boy stumbled back, grumbling. 

 “Watch where you’re going, idiot-” When he looked up, his frowning mouth turned into a cruel smile. “Well, if it isn’t Haruto Saito, the crybaby!” Hamasaki stepped forward, grinning. Haruto flinched and stumbled back. The boy who had leaned forward had black hair almost to his broad shoulders, along with angled cheekbones that Haruto remembered only too well. Hamasaki’s hand darted forward and plucked the string-bound journal from Haruto’s shaking hands. 

 “Hey!”

 “Watch your mouth, Saito.”

 The boy slowly opened the journal, enjoying the look of anger and fear that flickered on Haruto’s face. Before he could take a look at the first page, however, Haruto snatched the journal and dashed off towards Ms. Nakamura’s small place. As he looked back, he saw Hamasaki’s smug expression staring back at him, fully knowing he’d won.

---------------

 “Haruto?”

 Haruto turned around from his hiding spot to see Ms. Yua Nakamura peering at him from the window. He bowed respectfully, and she beckoned him in.

 “Come in, Haru.”

 “Why is everybody so quiet today?” Haruto sat down on the mat that Ms. Nakamura had placed on the floor. He leaned back on his heels, trying to look around the small divider to where she was. She was calmly pouring the hot water into small cups. When he asked that question, her hand slipped, and she burned herself on the small coal-burning stove.

 “Ms. Nakamura? Are you okay?” Haruto asked concernedly, standing up.

 “Yes, yes, sit down.” Ms. Nakamura said, waving her uninjured hand at him. She brought the small cups of tea to them one at a time. Ms. Nakamura was a middle-aged woman, and Haruto had befriended her rather easily at one of the mealtimes. They were both quite reserved people, so Ms. Nakamura could give Haruto advice on how to handle his situations, and she could have company. She didn’t have many other friends in the camp, so she appreciated the young man’s visits.

 “I’m not sure if I should tell you.” Ms. Nakamura admitted quietly. What? Is there something going on that I don’t know? I’m pretty observant…

 “You know almost everything going on around camp, so you might have found out anyway, but it’s better to find out with someone telling you.” Ms. Nakamura lifted her cup to her lips and took a sip before continuing. “There’s a questionnaire that the military has sent to all the camps across the country to recruit members if need be. So, essentially a military draft. It requires one male over 17 years old to fill out the questionnaire.” She looked up at Haruto, who was drinking in every word. “Everyone has either been clamoring to get out of here, or almost hiding to avoid being sent off to war.” 

 That means that Otosan might be sent off to war…

 “I don’t want everyone to fight!” He clamped his mouth shut, realizing how childish that sounded. However, Ms. Nakamura smiled weakly, understanding his situation completely. Haruto was the only male in his family besides his father, so his being drafted would leave Haruto the man of the house and in a hard situation, him only being 16. He knew how to take care of himself and his sister, but that you mean he would have to get a job near the main buildings.

 “It’s very understandable not to want war. I’m pretty sure everyone here wishes the war would end. Even though we might be loyal to America, there are a lot who wish their two countries wouldn’t fight.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

 “Mr. Saito?”

 Otosan got up from where they were having a small dinner to check the door. A man with a lowered cap and gun strapped to his back stood in the dust on the doorstep. He handed a paper to Otosan then turned his back and hurried along to the next door. Haruto got up from where he was sitting and walked over to the doorway where Otosan was still standing.

 "What is it?" He asked, already knowing what his father's answer would be.

 "Never you mind." Otosan's eyes were locked on the words on the top of the page. He seemed to be very tense, and Haruto understood. Suddenly, he saw Otosan's hands shake violently, and he cried out in pain. His back went rigid, and Haruto had to rush forward to steady him.

 "Oto-"

 "Haru, let me sit down." Haruto clamped his mouth shut and led his father to his cot on the other side of the small barrack. Otosan lay down and closed his eyes, setting the piece of paper down on the floor next to the cot.

 "Go have your dinner, Haru, don't worry about me." Haruto glanced worriedly back at his father, but bowed respectfully and headed back to his mother and sister. 

                     ----------------------------------------------------

 Later that night, Haruto laid awake staring at the ragged ceiling. As much as he tried, his mind wouldn’t calm down. His thoughts kept going back to the paper. Otosan’s back spasms happened much more often now. They only used to happen every couple of weeks, but now they struck every few days. 

 Haruto had only learned of the draft today, and yet, a plan was already formulating in his head. 

 --------------------------------------------------------------

 "Haru?" Ikuko Saito slid off her cot onto the floor. It was extremely early, and the sun hadn't even come up yet. She usually got up early, along with her brother, as they both liked to get a fresh start. She slowly and quietly stood up to peer over the rim of her older brother's bunk. She was 11 years old and short for her age, so she needed a stool to even see above the railing. 

 Ikuko's socks slipped as she fell into the rickety mattress and blanket that usually covered Haruto. 

 "Haru?" There was no one there. Only a single paper and an envelope rested on the unmade bed. Ikuko's heart started to race faster, but she picked up the paper and envelope and climbed silently down from the bed. The coal stove burned a low orange light, and Ikuko sat down a foot from it to read her brother's letter.

 Dear Ikuko,

 I know you're the only one who would get up this early, so you would be the one to read this letter. In the envelope is the money I have saved from my part-time job in the buildings.

 I know that Otosan's health is deteriorating, and he cannot afford to be drafted. When this crazy war is over, imouto, I will come back to you and get you out of there. Our whole family. I will send for you, and Otosan, and Okāsan, and finally we will be living our lives free of imprisonment. I will rescue you from that internment camp.

 I love you all more than you can ever imagine,

 Haruto