Upbeat swing music plays sounds of laughter, clinking tea cups, and faint chatter in the background. Then a high-pitched, teasing girl's voice enters playful and bright.
Tokyo Rose (Orphan Yuki, playfully mocking):
"Hellooo!
This is your favorite girl, Orphan Yuki!
Reporting live from the beautiful, peaceful city of Tokyo and this is Tokyo Rose! where the women are gorgeous, the children are laughing, and the skies are quiet…
Must be hard to hear that while you're sweating in the jungle, swatting flies, and dodging bullets, huh?"
She giggles.
"Aww, don't pout. I'm thinking of you brave British boys down there in muddy boots so brave, so noble, so… doomed."
Tone slowly darkens. Music fades. Silence creeps in.
"You were at Jitra, weren't you?
You saw how fast your lines broke.
Three days… That's all it took. And well if nearly to miss our broadcast schedule look how fast it end hihihi.
And you really thought your empire would last forever?"
Voice lowers slightly, teasing vanishes.
"Let me share a little secret. British High Command already knows.
You're not fighting to win Malaya.
You're fighting to buy time.
Time for Singapore.
Time for your officers to build their concrete bunkers and sip cold gin behind steel walls.
You?
You're just meat for the grinder."
A cold whisper:
"They've already written you off."
"You here to die"
Pause. Then her tone hardens emotionless.
"They didn't tell you how many ships they lost.
They didn't tell you how many bombers never came back.
They didn't tell you London is still burning your home, your family hiding from the next Nazi bombing raid.
But of course they didn't.
They need you to die believing you're winning."
Suddenly addressing Indian troops stern and sharp.
"And to the Indian soldiers out there…
You really think you're fighting for glory?
You fight under a foreign flag while your own country is still chained.
Your mothers still beg in the street.
Your fathers still beaten for speaking the wrong language.
And here you are dying for the white man's empire.
Like a loyal dog whipped at home, then sent to die abroad. I don't care which you guys came from Bombay? Delhi? Lahore? In the end you guys are dog to British while they kick your people in gut and you guys be good dog and they treat you like dog you are collie to British since last few century"
Venomous whisper
"Maybe they'll give your corpse a medal.
But probably not."
Voice softens again now seductive, speaking to local Malays.
"And my dear sons of the Malayan soil…
What are you dying for?
A Union Jack?
A King who's never seen your face?
A flag that only waved to remind you who owns your land?"
She speaks more passionately now fierce, deliberate.
"Wake up!
Your land bleeds while they plan their escape!
The British aren't protecting Malaya they're using it as a shield for Singapore.
They'll scorch your forests, flood your villages, and call it 'defense.'
Then they'll leave. Like they always do. See they didn't care about you? You guys gonna low on food blame the British! Blame them! They burn it so we can't use it but instead all of you suffer!"
Pause.
"But not all of you are asleep…
We know about the Kesatuan Melayu Muda… brave sons rising.
We know who's passing information, helping us free this land.
You are not alone.
Japan sees you.
Remembers you.
And will reward you."
A confident, low tone promising power.
"We offer you a future not slavery.
The East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere will return Malaya to its rightful people.
No more foreign masters.
No more being ruled by distant ghosts.
Your sultans… your youth… your voice."
She growls the next line low, like a curse
"Don't die for the British.
Bury them."
Inhale and exhale sound
"Under Japan of Rising Sun flag shall we move forward into the future against western imperialism"
Final address to the British again. Cold. Soft. Chilling.
"And to you, proud British soldier…
Tell me… when did you last hear from home?
Have they told you what happened in Coventry?
In Liverpool?
Your wife… your sister…
She might already be gone, ashes in the rubble.
But they won't tell you that.
Because if you knew the truth…
You'd stop fighting."
Pause. Then she sighs, mocking pity
"So march, little soldier.
March into the jungle.
March into the grave.
For a crown that forgot you…
And an empire already dying."
Faint sound of a Japanese music Aikoku Koshinkyoku and Japanese National Anthem follow by
And that the radio static beings heard and started playing japanese hymn while girl voice not being hear anymore
While the situation around that radio nothing but rubble and death bodies
---
Aman and Mei Lian had managed to escape Jitra barely. The town had fallen swiftly, and neither of them dared to look back. They just ran.
And ran.
And kept running, even when their lungs burned and their legs screamed to stop.
But no place was safe now. Safety was just a fading dream.
Barefoot and exhausted, the rough terrain tore into the soles of their feet. Every step felt like stepping on shards. Then
Thud.
Mei Lian collapsed onto the dirt road, crying out in pain.
Aman skidded to a stop, his breath ragged as he turned back.
No one was chasing them. Not yet. The jungle around them was deathly silent, the kind of silence that made you wonder if something was watching.
He rushed to her side and offered his hand. "Are you okay? Can you keep running?"
Mei Lian pushed herself up weakly. Her face was pale, lips trembling. "Y-Yes… but it hurts."
Aman hesitated for a moment, then exhaled sharply. "Tch."
Without a word, he crouched down and lifted her onto his back.
"Wha wait! What are you doing?!" Mei Lian yelped in surprise.
"Shut up. You're slowing us down. You saw what happened back there… You know we don't have time."
She didn't protest after that.
Carrying her, Aman pressed forward into the overgrown path. Leaves brushed against their faces. Mosquitoes buzzed hungrily.
Neither of them said it out loud, but they both knew it
Their fates weren't so different now.
Both were running. Both were hunted. Both had lost too much.
And ahead, the unknown waited with teeth bared.