Recent Posts1
Vignettes / Re: Lifetimes of Change (Historical Vignettes set from 1891 - 2011)
« Last post by Daitō on Today at 01:54:28 PM »Shadows of the Past, Part One: The Old World
Hatsukaichi Bay, Izumi Prefecture
December 6th, 1945
10:01 AM
The gentle splash of the water against the hull of the boat was of little comfort to Yuna, who watched, on an early December morning, as the ruins of Hatsukaichi slipped beyond the horizon on Hatsukaichi Bay. Here was a city she knew and loved, quelled in bitter death by a force so immense, so powerful that none—neither Ardian or Achkaerinese—should possess. “How did it all go so wrong?” she thought, privately, as she looked down at the pair of letters in her hand. One was singed but otherwise in good condition; that was the one that her brother had given her a year ago, only to be opened if he were truly dead. The other, though water-damaged and thus hard to read, was the reason she was on this boat.
Her sister had survived, though she had apparently fallen ill.
She was fortunate that her extended family out in Furue had been around to take her in; their old home was, from what she saw when she passed by it earlier in the morning, badly damaged and all but abandoned, save perhaps for a group of orphaned children who had taken up shelter inside. Perhaps her father knew, though he always was the charitable sort, so it likely didn’t bother him too much given the circumstances. Make no doubt about it, with the war being done and his old place of work being gone, he would most likely seek to move soon anyways. That old house, where they’d weathered the early years of the war together… It hurt to see it in that state, truthfully, but then again, she figured it was perhaps better than if it had been wiped away.
“Y’know, I can’t help but feel like I’ve seen you around before.” The boat’s pilot, a man by the name of Kenji Okada, said as he steered the small craft to avoid a net. “Where are you from?”
“Kyūre, Okada-san.” Yuna replied before adding “But I was born in Hatsukaichi.”
“I see…” The pilot muttered to himself. “And I take it you’ve got family out across the bay, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, you’re lucky, then. Afraid we lost a lot of folks back in August… Damned shame.”
Luck, or perhaps fate. She never gave much importance to either, truthfully, but she couldn’t fault someone for believing in either if it gave them some degree of comfort. In her mind, however, if luck existed, it passed over her many years ago, and if it were destiny… Well, suffice to say she didn’t believe in that, either. Even if she did, she now recognized that life was, by its very nature, both imperfect and transient, and thus worth celebrating. If, as the old saying went, the beauty of flowers was that they fall, then so too was the beauty of life that it had to end. And just as life itself had to end, today, a part of her life would, too. The life she had once known was well and truly over.
As she stepped off the boat, she came across a sight which, in months passed, she had sadly grown accustomed to. Human bones, skull and all, laying in the field outside of town. A great many people had died, both as a result of the bombing and from some sort of new disease which was associated with it, but also from starvation. As far as war-torn cities went, Kyūre had gotten off easy; with the port in Hatsukaichi destroyed by the blast, the bombed-out port there had become the jumping off point for supplies on this side of the Mutsu, which meant that they had first pickings of anything coming in. Hatsukaichi was not so lucky, even with the attention drawn to it. Even before war’s end, famine had struck the region, and evidently, whoever this was, they’d been here for a while. They probably had nobody left to bury them, Yuna thought as she offered a silent prayer for them before moving on. That, or maybe whoever knew them in life simply didn’t know what had come of them.
A few minutes would pass as she walked through familiar alleys and over familiar roads, but eventually she would see that place she had, in another life, seen as a second home. Out by the shore, rows upon rows of seaweed sat upon their racks, drying in the late autumn sun. And there, tending to them, faces she had not seen since a cold day in December of ‘43.
“Yuna!” The youngest—her cousin, Hiyori—shouted as she ran to greet her, almost causing Yuna to trip when she hugged her. “Are you alright?” She soon asked upon seeing her arm.
“More or less.” She answered. “I’m glad to see you’re all still alive. Is Ikuko still here?”
“Of course.” Her aunt, Haruna, answered before pointing toward the door. “She’s resting at the moment, but feel free to say hello.”
10:33 AM
The door slid open, flooding the room with the piercing white light of the sun. From the clock hanging on the wall to the photos on the shelf, it was striking how little had changed, Yuna thought as she looked around. The last time she’d been here, her cousin had warned her that she would marry far away, only for her to find out scarcely a few minutes later that she was right. Some prophecy, huh. But in the corner, sitting under the kotatsu, her sister was waiting for her.
“Ah, there you are.” Ikuko said, gently. “D-did you cut your hair? It looks…”
“Awful? I know.” Yuna smiled, trying to ignore the day she did that. Not her proudest moment, even if it was easier to care for.
“No, it… Suits you.” Her sister answered, her lies falling on deaf ears. After a moment, she motioned to the table before saying “Please, sit.”
“How’re you holding up?” Yuna asked, placing her bag aside before doing just that. “I heard you’re sick.”
“Nah, I’m fine. I just get fatigued easily these days…” Ikuko said. “Forgive me, dearest sister, for I couldn’t go out to collect nori on this cold day.” She added in a mock-serious tone before nearly breaking out into laughter.
“I suppose you are owed a day off once in a while.”
“You and me both. I only wish it were warmer.”
“You said it.” Yuna admitted, thinking back on the old days. “Remember the first time we crossed the bay on our own? With Iwao, I mean.” She reminisced, thinking about how they’d all wound up covered in mud, no doubt because the gods had decided to punish their brother for his poor behavior that day.
“It’s just a shame he won’t be coming home.” Ikuko sighed. She had been so adamant, around this time last year, that he had survived, that to hear her finally admit it came as a surprise. “And Mom, too.”
“What?” Yuna asked, not really shocked but still struck by what she’d just been told. It wasn’t as though it were surprising; if she’d lived, then she would’ve said something, or if not, then her grandmother or Aunt Haruna. Frankly, she had an inkling that it may have happened based on her calls with her father. Just something about his voice gave it away, but… it still hurt.
“She was helping set up for the festival, back in the morning of the fifth. Your uncle and I went looking for her, day after day, but… Well, he got sick and died in October. We had a service for both of them at the old schoolhouse.” Ikuko said, pausing momentarily as she took her sister’s hand in her own. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get a word to you.”
“No, it’s fine.” Yuna said; her words only partly true. It was okay that she couldn’t, given her condition and how badly communication had broken down since the bombing, but she had wished she’d known sooner. “I’m sorry I didn’t come home sooner.”
“Nah, it’s better you weren’t here. I wouldn’t want you to have gotten sick too.”
“She won’t catch what you’ve got.” A familiar voice said from behind the door, which soon slid open to reveal none other than their father. As with everyone else here, it had been some time since Yuna had seen Haruto, though of course, they had spoken quite frequently since that day in August. “But I do agree, it’s for the best you stayed put.” He added as he took a seat with them. “It, uh, doesn’t hurt, does it?” He asked, motioning to Yuna’s arm.
“Not as much as it used to.” Yuna nodded. “I mean, sometimes it feels like I’ve still got that arm, but… Well, you can see for yourself.”
“It’s unforgivable.” Haruto sighed. “I mean, I saw a lot back in my day, but the Ardians didn’t go out of their way to directly target everyday folks. Neither did we. I suppose… I suppose this war drew out the worst in people, and there’s no real walking back from it.”
“Dad, I was in the-”
“In the wrong place at the wrong time. I’m sure everyone in Shinkyo and in Hatsukaichi feel the same way, huh? Sorry to break it to you, but the truth is that all of this was planned out. Premeditated murder on a massive scale, plain and simple. Shinkyo was put to the torch when people were asleep. The whole lot of them burned in their homes because some bastard wanted them to. Same thing with Hatsukaichi and the festival. By the gods, they were trying to wipe us out, and you think I can forgive them for that?”
“Nobody’s asking you to.” Ikuko answered.
“I… I’m sorry. I’m gonna go for a walk, clear my head.” He said before standing up and leaving. “They found your brother, by the way. POW camp out in Yakushima. He… didn’t make it.” He added, not even turning around to look them in the eye before slamming the door shut. And so, an awkward silence fell over the room that would last for quite some time. Eventually, they would resume their conversation, but eventually, Yuna would have to leave. She had business in Hatsukaichi before she could go home.
Hatsukaichi Bay, Izumi Prefecture
December 6th, 1945
10:01 AM
The gentle splash of the water against the hull of the boat was of little comfort to Yuna, who watched, on an early December morning, as the ruins of Hatsukaichi slipped beyond the horizon on Hatsukaichi Bay. Here was a city she knew and loved, quelled in bitter death by a force so immense, so powerful that none—neither Ardian or Achkaerinese—should possess. “How did it all go so wrong?” she thought, privately, as she looked down at the pair of letters in her hand. One was singed but otherwise in good condition; that was the one that her brother had given her a year ago, only to be opened if he were truly dead. The other, though water-damaged and thus hard to read, was the reason she was on this boat.
Her sister had survived, though she had apparently fallen ill.
She was fortunate that her extended family out in Furue had been around to take her in; their old home was, from what she saw when she passed by it earlier in the morning, badly damaged and all but abandoned, save perhaps for a group of orphaned children who had taken up shelter inside. Perhaps her father knew, though he always was the charitable sort, so it likely didn’t bother him too much given the circumstances. Make no doubt about it, with the war being done and his old place of work being gone, he would most likely seek to move soon anyways. That old house, where they’d weathered the early years of the war together… It hurt to see it in that state, truthfully, but then again, she figured it was perhaps better than if it had been wiped away.
“Y’know, I can’t help but feel like I’ve seen you around before.” The boat’s pilot, a man by the name of Kenji Okada, said as he steered the small craft to avoid a net. “Where are you from?”
“Kyūre, Okada-san.” Yuna replied before adding “But I was born in Hatsukaichi.”
“I see…” The pilot muttered to himself. “And I take it you’ve got family out across the bay, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, you’re lucky, then. Afraid we lost a lot of folks back in August… Damned shame.”
Luck, or perhaps fate. She never gave much importance to either, truthfully, but she couldn’t fault someone for believing in either if it gave them some degree of comfort. In her mind, however, if luck existed, it passed over her many years ago, and if it were destiny… Well, suffice to say she didn’t believe in that, either. Even if she did, she now recognized that life was, by its very nature, both imperfect and transient, and thus worth celebrating. If, as the old saying went, the beauty of flowers was that they fall, then so too was the beauty of life that it had to end. And just as life itself had to end, today, a part of her life would, too. The life she had once known was well and truly over.
As she stepped off the boat, she came across a sight which, in months passed, she had sadly grown accustomed to. Human bones, skull and all, laying in the field outside of town. A great many people had died, both as a result of the bombing and from some sort of new disease which was associated with it, but also from starvation. As far as war-torn cities went, Kyūre had gotten off easy; with the port in Hatsukaichi destroyed by the blast, the bombed-out port there had become the jumping off point for supplies on this side of the Mutsu, which meant that they had first pickings of anything coming in. Hatsukaichi was not so lucky, even with the attention drawn to it. Even before war’s end, famine had struck the region, and evidently, whoever this was, they’d been here for a while. They probably had nobody left to bury them, Yuna thought as she offered a silent prayer for them before moving on. That, or maybe whoever knew them in life simply didn’t know what had come of them.
A few minutes would pass as she walked through familiar alleys and over familiar roads, but eventually she would see that place she had, in another life, seen as a second home. Out by the shore, rows upon rows of seaweed sat upon their racks, drying in the late autumn sun. And there, tending to them, faces she had not seen since a cold day in December of ‘43.
“Yuna!” The youngest—her cousin, Hiyori—shouted as she ran to greet her, almost causing Yuna to trip when she hugged her. “Are you alright?” She soon asked upon seeing her arm.
“More or less.” She answered. “I’m glad to see you’re all still alive. Is Ikuko still here?”
“Of course.” Her aunt, Haruna, answered before pointing toward the door. “She’s resting at the moment, but feel free to say hello.”
10:33 AM
The door slid open, flooding the room with the piercing white light of the sun. From the clock hanging on the wall to the photos on the shelf, it was striking how little had changed, Yuna thought as she looked around. The last time she’d been here, her cousin had warned her that she would marry far away, only for her to find out scarcely a few minutes later that she was right. Some prophecy, huh. But in the corner, sitting under the kotatsu, her sister was waiting for her.
“Ah, there you are.” Ikuko said, gently. “D-did you cut your hair? It looks…”
“Awful? I know.” Yuna smiled, trying to ignore the day she did that. Not her proudest moment, even if it was easier to care for.
“No, it… Suits you.” Her sister answered, her lies falling on deaf ears. After a moment, she motioned to the table before saying “Please, sit.”
“How’re you holding up?” Yuna asked, placing her bag aside before doing just that. “I heard you’re sick.”
“Nah, I’m fine. I just get fatigued easily these days…” Ikuko said. “Forgive me, dearest sister, for I couldn’t go out to collect nori on this cold day.” She added in a mock-serious tone before nearly breaking out into laughter.
“I suppose you are owed a day off once in a while.”
“You and me both. I only wish it were warmer.”
“You said it.” Yuna admitted, thinking back on the old days. “Remember the first time we crossed the bay on our own? With Iwao, I mean.” She reminisced, thinking about how they’d all wound up covered in mud, no doubt because the gods had decided to punish their brother for his poor behavior that day.
“It’s just a shame he won’t be coming home.” Ikuko sighed. She had been so adamant, around this time last year, that he had survived, that to hear her finally admit it came as a surprise. “And Mom, too.”
“What?” Yuna asked, not really shocked but still struck by what she’d just been told. It wasn’t as though it were surprising; if she’d lived, then she would’ve said something, or if not, then her grandmother or Aunt Haruna. Frankly, she had an inkling that it may have happened based on her calls with her father. Just something about his voice gave it away, but… it still hurt.
“She was helping set up for the festival, back in the morning of the fifth. Your uncle and I went looking for her, day after day, but… Well, he got sick and died in October. We had a service for both of them at the old schoolhouse.” Ikuko said, pausing momentarily as she took her sister’s hand in her own. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get a word to you.”
“No, it’s fine.” Yuna said; her words only partly true. It was okay that she couldn’t, given her condition and how badly communication had broken down since the bombing, but she had wished she’d known sooner. “I’m sorry I didn’t come home sooner.”
“Nah, it’s better you weren’t here. I wouldn’t want you to have gotten sick too.”
“She won’t catch what you’ve got.” A familiar voice said from behind the door, which soon slid open to reveal none other than their father. As with everyone else here, it had been some time since Yuna had seen Haruto, though of course, they had spoken quite frequently since that day in August. “But I do agree, it’s for the best you stayed put.” He added as he took a seat with them. “It, uh, doesn’t hurt, does it?” He asked, motioning to Yuna’s arm.
“Not as much as it used to.” Yuna nodded. “I mean, sometimes it feels like I’ve still got that arm, but… Well, you can see for yourself.”
“It’s unforgivable.” Haruto sighed. “I mean, I saw a lot back in my day, but the Ardians didn’t go out of their way to directly target everyday folks. Neither did we. I suppose… I suppose this war drew out the worst in people, and there’s no real walking back from it.”
“Dad, I was in the-”
“In the wrong place at the wrong time. I’m sure everyone in Shinkyo and in Hatsukaichi feel the same way, huh? Sorry to break it to you, but the truth is that all of this was planned out. Premeditated murder on a massive scale, plain and simple. Shinkyo was put to the torch when people were asleep. The whole lot of them burned in their homes because some bastard wanted them to. Same thing with Hatsukaichi and the festival. By the gods, they were trying to wipe us out, and you think I can forgive them for that?”
“Nobody’s asking you to.” Ikuko answered.
“I… I’m sorry. I’m gonna go for a walk, clear my head.” He said before standing up and leaving. “They found your brother, by the way. POW camp out in Yakushima. He… didn’t make it.” He added, not even turning around to look them in the eye before slamming the door shut. And so, an awkward silence fell over the room that would last for quite some time. Eventually, they would resume their conversation, but eventually, Yuna would have to leave. She had business in Hatsukaichi before she could go home.
