Bruno had left the Kaiser’s palace at a mont’s notice. His thoughts were heavy, towards the past, the present, and as always the future.
But he had little ti to dwell on them, at least not now. No, he had to et with soone from his past. Soone he thought he would never see again.
And Bruno t Sakura at his old manor in Berlin. The address had been given to her, and she was escorted there by mbers of the German National Police.
The ho had long since been abandoned by Erich and his family, who, in recent months, had moved back to the family’s primary residence in Tyrol.
But it was kept clean and tidy by Bruno’s staff, who maintained it daily.
Tonight, however, they had gone ho, leaving it the perfect place for a quiet, private eting.
When Sakura stepped through the doors, she saw him standing before the fireplace.
He had grown older. The lines on his face spoke of war, of loss, of endless burdens. But they weren’t harsh, just gently worn.
Perhaps, by so strange sorcery, age had only just begun to erode the man’s youth and vigor.
The grey in his hair gave him a rugged edge, rather than robbing him of his presence. Gone was the charming, princely youth she rembered. Before her stood a hardened figure of history.
Bruno was gazing up at the photographs above the mantel, images of himself as a young officer, with his wife and their eldest children in this very house. Erich had kept them, adding photos of his own family with Alya. A legacy carried forward.
At first, Sakura said nothing. How could she? It was too surreal. But when Bruno finally turned and looked at her, she broke the silence with nervous small talk, her eyes avoiding his.
"A lovely ho you have here... I never imagined you’d live sowhere like this."
Bruno chuckled quietly, shaking his head.
"I was born into the lowest rung of nobility. This house has been in our family since before we even held a title. Whatever I am now, a prince, a statesman, it ca through my own labor. But this place? This is where my first children were born. Where my wife and I built the life that we have today."
Sakura hesitated. She still couldn’t look him in the eyes. But her voice, though quiet, pressed on:
"She is... a lucky woman."
Bruno’s answer ca faster than she expected; and gentler.
"I’m a lucky man. I don’t think I would have survived all these years if I didn’t have her and the children to co ho to."
A pause.
"But that’s not why you’re here, is it? To talk about my marriage.""When I saw you last ten years ago. I thought that would be our last farewell. Funny, isn’t it; how fate isn’t done with us?"
He sat down, motioning for her to do the sa. She followed, settling across from him.
So much she wanted to say. But there wasn’t enough ti; and she knew it. Duty ca first. Personal feelings were... secondary.
"I co on behalf of the late Emperor Taisho," she said finally. "His dying wish was that I try to secure favorable terms for Japan... should you erge victorious?"
Bruno sighed deeply, the disappointnt flickering across his expression.
"So. Duty to the end. Is that all we are?"
Sakura narrowed her gaze; she knew what he ant. But she didn’t flinch.
"When is it anything but?"
Bruno nodded, slowly.
"Never. Not for people like us. Our lives were never ant to be free or whimsical. They are what they must be."
He straightened.
"Very well, Princess Sakura. If this is to be a diplomatic visit, forgive for not standing on pretense."
Her heart pounded, but she said nothing. She had chosen this. She had to see it through.
Bruno’s voice hardened; not cruel, but coldly honest.
"Give one reason I should treat your empire fairly. After your fleet attacked ours without provocation. After you dragged us into a war that has taken thousands of lives and drained millions from our coffers. Why? Why should I show rcy?"
She had no answer.
Even though she knew the Emperor hadn’t started the war; but that didn’t change the facts. From Germany’s perspective, it was a war of aggression. An unnecessary one. A bloodletting born of ambition.
Sakura looked to the floor, tears forming; not from guilt, but from failure. She had co to fulfill her duty, and she had failed.
Bruno’s next words softened, if only slightly.
"My rcy is this: After the war ends, Japan will still have a holand. The Japanese mainland. Okinawa. Sakhalin. A few other islands. But the rest; your colonies, your stolen territories, they will be returned to their rightful owners. Or granted independence."
Sakura nodded, voice barely above a whisper.
"Yes... I understand. Thank you. I expected far less."
Bruno stood and led her to the door.
"Sakura. Return to your people. You have my answer; for both your questions."
He paused.
"And should your family ever be in danger after this war ends... you may petition Tyrol for asylum. You’ll be welco."
Then, gently, he took her hand and kissed it—a gesture neither romantic nor political, but human.
He sent her off in the waiting car that would return her to the harbor.
She would go back to Japan, not as a diplomat, not as a girl chasing lost love, but as a woman freed from the weight of impossible hopes.
And Bruno?
He returned to the firelight alone. As always. He thought for a long ti that night in silence. Not bothering to return to the barracks. Wilhelms’ words had struck deeper than he initially thought they had.
They left many questions. About himself, about this life, about how he had treated his second chance, and those around him in it. And after staring into the light for so long that he practically beca it himself. Bruno laughed and shook his head.
"Wilhelm... You old bastard... Why couldn’t you have let these thoughts lose thirty years ago...."
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