A middle-aged man can be seen draping a blanket over a drunken lady, thoough the latter can barely be called decently dressed. Were it any lesser male, they would have taken advantage of the woman's defenseless state. Fortunately for her, and her kid that is no doubt right outside the door of this worn-down home, the older male considers himself to be a decent person, if not a gentleman. After making sure that the sleeping lady is warmly tucked in for the night, the man grabs the half-finished bottle of soju by his side. An action, a routine that he has come to feel increasingly familiar. This is not the first time that he has visited this lady's abode, nor would it be the last.
Moving out to the moonlit veranda, the man sits down with his wine in hand. He then calls out softly in the direction of the door the kid's hiding behind.
"I know you're there, kid. Wanna talk?"
After a moment of silence, the door slides open, revealing a young teenager. Stepping inside the room, the teenager closes the door slowly before moving outside the veranda and sitting down. By this point, one should know that they're all Koreans by blood, living in a rundown neighborhood of what was once a proud state. There isn't any exchange of words in the first few minutes until the man resumes his drinking.
"You know, I would have offered you the soju if it wasn't for you being so young."
"Doesn't stop you from doing those things to my mom though." The kid snarked back with a side glance.
The man just chuckles with rosy cheeks while indulging in the cheap wine. "Good to see that you still have some snarks in you, kiddo. Though with how many times you have been spying on us by that doorway, you would know that I never take things too far, no matter how drunk."
The kid shakes his head. "You still get handsy with her anyway."
The man just nods acceptingly. "Yeah well, I won't shy away and will admit my less-than-acceptable tendencies. For what I am bringing to the table for you pair of mother and son, I do need something for the troubles. Getting touchy with her is like a way of de-stressing for me nowadays." Twirling his bottle of soju, the man continues. "Never take it a step further though, unless she wants it. I do consider myself a morally gray person, if not white, and I do have standards. Besides, she's better off putting up with me than the others, you know."
That got the kid to look at the man directly. "Others? Like you?"
"Yes and no to the questions." The man replied while looking at the kid with a stern expression. "You know what the word prostitute means, kid?"
Rolling his eyes, the kid answers. "I am old enough to know what the bees and the birds mean, old man."
"... Kids these days mature too fast for my liking, damn it." The man complained beneath his breath, but the kid still managed to get the gist of it.
"Alright, fine then." The man said. "You must know that I am an Honorary Japanese, kiddo. I earned that title by being an exemplary citizen under Japanese rule. The title sounds good on paper by giving you some good benefits, but it's nothing but another disparaging branding actuality. The title segregates you from the rest of your peers, alienating you from the people you have grown up with. While it does elevate your status to a certain point, it's still beneath the actual, pureblood Japanese. As such, the Japs can just look down upon the Honorary Japanese all the same, even though they need us now to run the show and to set an example for the Koreans."
"Where are you going with this even?" The kid interjected.
"Patience, kiddo, it's not like I am making up an excuse or something. I'm merely spouting facts here, though whether you believe them or not is up to you." The man raised his hands in mock surrender. "Anyway, as I was saying... The Japanese stationed here are xenophobic pricks. Even when we have managed to earn the rank of Honorary, they would discriminate against us anyway. In fact, I would argue that we have it worse due to our tasks putting us near the Japs way more than normal. To them, us being Honorary Japanese are no different than turncoats sullying their names. As if they haven't treated the lives of normal Koreans as lesser beings already."
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"If it's as hard as you say, why hold onto the title in the first place?" The kid asked a good question.
The man looks up to the moon as he answers. "Because that's the only way I can get those ration tickets. It's the only way for you two and many others to eat, to get a roof above their heads. I can bear some harsh words and the occasional humiliation, but I'll be damned if I see the dying but do not save them."
The kid just looks at the man hearing, the unexpected answer. He has known this man for a short while, the man is either groping his mother or eating and drinking most of the time. To hear him speaking about doing things out of the goodness of his heart is, undoubtedly, surprising. Still, the kid must admit that he has a shallow understanding of the man before him. It's not like he can just spy on the man when he's outside in the daylight. If he did that, he may get beaten by the Japs, or worse, get caught by the Kempeitai.
Maybe the man really acts with sincerity at the end of the day... Doesn't change the fact that he is still a bastard for taking advantage of his mother, however.
"Anyway," The man continued. "To put it simply, we Honorary Japanese have pains of our own. A rare few like me retain our integrity, striving to bear the pain and act in the best interest of us Koreans or to mend the bridge between Japanese and Koreans alike. Many, however, break under the pressure and fall under the temptation of power, no matter how small it might be. Instead of getting angry at the Japanese for mistreating them, they grow to be too subservient to the Japanese before taking out their anger on their fellow Koreans. Their thought process is like this: The Japanese are above the Honoraries and Koreans alike. Then doesn't this mean that, as Honoraries that are invested in by the Japanese, we are a cut above the other Koreans?"
The man finishes up the last gulp of his soju. "It's a treacherous train of thought, one that leads some of the Honoraries to discriminate against their own people. The task that has been delegated to the Honoraries, the one that involves us performing a survey and distributing supplies and materials to rebuild from the disaster. Yeah, many of the Honoraries use the task for their own gains. Rather than distribute the wealth, they hoard it for themselves, only releasing the bare minimum to fulfill the quota set by Japan itself. It's why the reconstruction effort has taken so long with no visible sign of recovery in the living quarters, with the economic center being personally handled by the Japanese instead. Those in other regions would have to beg and please the Honoraries to get the things they needed. Men are forced to do shady businesses for their families, while women are forced to sell themselves to raise their kids. It's not like they can protest this corrupted behavior, not when the Japanese in charge are similarly conducting such actions. Word has it that people are now going missing, only to wash up the river banks three days later and unidentifiable. Doesn't take a keen mind to know why, yet, what can we do?"
The man puts down his empty bottle. "It's an institutional problem, really. When one part is corrupted, it will spread to others. When one corrupted part is facing expulsion, the others jump into its defense. Protesting against the bad Honoraries means that we are besmirching the titles that are bestowed by the mighty Japanese, for they refuse to admit that they made the wrong choice. The fact that they are also condoning acts of depravity means that the Japanese will soon silence the protesters, rather than eliminate the corrupted Honoraries. We can't fight against them, at least not normally. All we can do right now is to get by, day by day. You're lucky kiddo, lucky that you and your mom have me around the town, even if I am not the best. Though honestly, it's better if the Honorary title never exists. The point has been to slowly bridge the gap between Koreans and Japanese, but I think it backfired splendidly. Now if only the people in that Castle in the Sky could have known that, somehow."
The man sighs wryly before placing a palm on the kid's hair, ruffling it up caringly. "You're smart kid, smarter than some adults even, of that I'm sure. On the off chance that I am not around, keep your mom safe for me, yeah? Don't let any bastard other than me take advantage of her, alright? If any dare, kick them hard in the balls before leading her away, preferably to this location."
The man then pulls out from his pocket a neatly rolled bundle of tickets and a note. "Here, the ration tickets, enough to last two weeks if you strategize your consumption. My opinion is that you and your mom should eat well to regain your health as soon as you can. The note, you better memorize the content and burn it as soon as you can. It's where your family can run to at the first sign of trouble. When somebody says Sam, you reply with Sung, you got it?"
The kid nods, taking the man's words seriously as they may be important. "Sam-Sung... Three stars in hanja?"
"You're good, kiddo, everlasting power is their meaning. Though do me a favor and keep this conversation a secret between us men, alright? Don't want to worry your mom needlessly now." The man said while offering his right hand to the kid.
The kid looks at the offered hand before shaking it. The night then passes peacefully with the two males of different ages falling asleep by the porch. The next morning, the mother pulls the ears of the two to wake them up, berating them for underestimating the cold night winds.