I wait, as I have done for so long. My uniform is clean, my rifle, my pistol and my sword are kept in good condition. When they come back for me they will see that I have done my duty, as a soldier in the Imperial Japanese Army should.

Time to patrol. Down the slope, across a small clearing, then into the dense rainforest. I make virtually no sound, ears tuned to the sound of the jungle. Then, after half an hour or so, I hear something that wasn’t here three days ago. I feel my senses extending like the antennae of an insect, seeing out its prey.
Music, of sorts. Ahead of me is a dense greenness. I slide my pistol from its holder, and, watching each footfall, I move towards the sound.

There – a lightening of the forest, a clearing. And in its centre, a tent. Whoever is playing the radio must be in the tent, or sitting down on its far side. I will wait, and watch.

Ten minutes, three more songs that sound the same, then silence falls like a blanket. A young man, with long hair, stands up, on the far side of the tent. He looks Japanese, perhaps 20 years old. His clothes are scruffy and he wears light shoes on bare feet. He moves any attempt at concealment, looking into the forest, all round the clearing. His eyes slide over me, move on without stopping. I realise that I’ve been holding my breath, let it out slowly.

He stoops into his tent. I wait a long time. Is he sleeping? The daylight is fading, it will be dark soon. I wonder about this young man. He looks to be the same age as I was when this war started. He is alone. But I think he is alone from choice, in his small tent. I wonder why he’s here, in this jungle. My jungle.
Silently, I withdraw and return to my cave. Soon I am at my straw bed, wrap myself in my old thin blanket and fall into a deep sleep.

I wake instantly, as I always do. Rolling off the straw mattress, I stretch, carry out my exercises and prepare breakfast. As I eat I consider. I could stay away from the clearing, until the young man goes away. I could go back to the clearing, watch him, or confront him, perhaps kill him.

But or some reason I can’t fathom, I want to speak to him. So I make my way back to the clearing. The young man sits on the ground, head down. After a while I move deliberately, making a noise. He lifts his head, looks toward me.

“Are you there?” He speaks Japanese. “Show yourself, please. I am unarmed. I am alone. I cannot harm you, even if I wanted to.”

In three strides I am in the clearing, facing him. He stands. “Are you Lieutenant Onoda?”

So he has come for me. I nod, once.

“My name is Norio Suzuki. I am very happy to meet you, Lieutenant Onoda. I hope that you are well.” He bows in a respectful manner, then resumes his seat on the ground. He motions for me to sit, and, as if in a dream, I do so, facing him. He picks up a cup, holds it out to me. I frown. It could be poisoned.

He smiles at me. “It’s ok. I’ll even drink some myself.” He pours a little of the liquid into his cupped hand, and drinks it. I accept the cup, and we both drink. I recognise the taste: it is Calpis, a milky soft drink that I loved when I was a child.

When we have drunk I have questions for him.

“Why did you come here? Did someone send you?” My voice sounds strange to me, perhaps because I have not used it in a long time.

“Nobody sent me. I came here to look for you. I thought playing the radio would be the best way to attract you. I knew I would never find you if I looked for you.”

“If you came looking for me, you must have something to say to me.”

Norio looks straight at me; I meet his gaze. “I wanted to meet a real Japanese soldier who had fought in the war, who is still fighting. And I wanted to ask you why you still fight on, why you will not come out of the jungle. Do you not know that the war has been over for many years?”

“I have heard that before. The villagers used to shout it when they searched for me. But I am a soldier in the Imperial Japanese Army. A Japanese soldier doesn’t listen to fake news. A Japanese soldier obeys his orders.”

Then he asks what it would take to get me to surrender. I tell him that I would only surrender if Major Taniguchi, my commanding officer, orders me to. We talk some more, and eat some of his dried beef. It isn’t very good but I am hungry. After we eat he tells me that he must go now, but he promises to return. I believe him.

Now Norio has been gone for three weeks. I wait, as I have waited for so long. But now it is different. Now I have a new thing: hope.