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Vignettes / Re: Lifetimes of Change (Historical Vignettes set from 1891 - 2011)
« Last post by Daitō on April 19, 2024, 12:43:36 PM »The Final Day
Hiroioki, Kyūre, Izumi Prefecture
August 29th, 1945
6:16 PM
As hard and painful as it might’ve been to believe, the war was over. Six long years of fighting across so many fronts was now, at long last, finally done. It had not come in the way that Yuna had thought, and indeed many a tear had been shed upon the mountaintop, but she could at least take solace in knowing that it had been achieved. Though perhaps it had all been for nothing—perhaps Fusan had been led into war on a false hope and a lie—it was a dream which she, like many others her age, well and truly believed in. Sonyu and his heirs may not have truly sought the liberation of East Ardia, but that was what they had fought for and nothing less than that. And indeed, the fight continued across the sea. Fusan may not have been in the war, much like Tytor had been at the end of the last war—if that was even the right term now—but her allies were, and so that dream was still alive. If nothing else, there was hope.
Hope was all she needed, as it happened. It was what had kept her from despair all these years, only being shattered when Kahori died, but now, she needed it more than ever. So why not cling to that, at least for now? Yet when she returned home from the family’s terrace, she was soon distracted from her thoughts of surrender, of the end of the war, by a sight she hadn’t seen in a long, long time: finely-polished white rice. Apparently, the Umekis had been keeping it in the event that either the war ended or an invasion was imminent, whichever came sooner. It seemed that it would, in fact, be the former, though of course, there was hardly a celebratory mood within the family. Yet it wasn’t mournful, either. Privately, everyone had hoped the war would end; even Yuna, despite her poor showing earlier, had hoped to see the war end soon, albeit not in this fashion.
It was admittedly hard to remember what life was like before the war, at least for her. Of course, she had memories, it was just… this had dominated her life ever since she was fourteen, and Fusan had been on a war footing for two years before then. Yuna wondered, for a brief moment as they—herself, Azumi, and Natsumi—prepared dinner for the rest of the family, if knowing what she would become, her past self would try to change anything. Certainly, from her own perspective, she thought as she looked at her stump of an arm, there had been some things which she regretted, but… for the life of her, she couldn’t find anything which she would change, save mayhaps not listening to her niece on that fateful day in June. The fact of the matter was that, in spite of it all, her experiences had shaped her, made her the woman she was now, and that was something she could live with.
Eventually, the time had come to eat, and so, everyone crowded around the small table in the living room. In a strange way, though her own parents and sister were obviously not present, it reminded Yuna of the day she had gotten married. Though it had only been a little over a year and a half ago, it felt as though a lifetime had passed. Back then, the war hadn’t come to their shores, and now, it would hopefully never come again. Yet in spite of the war being over, many found it difficult to speak of anything but it, or rather, about its end and what that meant for themselves and for the nation as a whole.
“I still can’t believe it, y’know.” Entaro—Iwao’s uncle—said between bites of his rice. “I mean, how I see it, we had the Ardians on the run, but now that we’ve taken back those damned islands, we give up? Where’s the sense in that?”
“There isn’t any.” Iwao sighed, leaning back slightly and propping himself up with his hands. “But then again, I suppose the world hasn’t made much sense for these last few years, either.”
“Actually, it makes plenty of sense.” Daisaku pointed out after looking outside for a moment. “See, if we didn’t get the islands back, then we’d leave the Ardians in a position to impose harsher demands on us. By retaking them, we could in effect regain all of our land and achieve something close to how we were before the war. ’status-quo ante-bellum’, I believe the term was?” He added, almost entirely butchering its pronunciation.
“And when did you become an expert on politics, Mr. Know-It-All?” Entaro asked in jest.
“I… pick things up at work and from the radio.”
“It’s a shame that we only have rice and nothing else.” Yuna sighed as she looked down at her bowl. Even if this was a special occasion, she couldn’t help but think about how much more complicated meals could be, even in wartime.
“Well, with the war ending, I figured we could do something different than relying on rations tonight.” Natsumi noted as everyone else ate. “Soon enough, I think we might be able to have more than a handful of sardines and sweet potatoes with it.”
“If I never have to try that ‘Lord Hachisuka rice’ again, I think I’ll die happy.” Azumi pointed out, which got the agreement of everyone else in the room.
“You can say that again.” Yuna said, remembering the first time she made it after her wedding.
A few more minutes passed before Daisaku spoke up once more, having had something of an epiphany. It was awfully dark in the room thanks to the drapes they’d had to put up around the lights, but with the war being over, it was now completely useless.
“I can’t believe I almost forgot… Not at war anymore.” He said, standing up before removing the drapes. And so, for the first time in many years, lights shone from the base of Mt. Takimine, even in defiance of the destruction which lay below.
Hiroioki, Kyūre, Izumi Prefecture
August 29th, 1945
6:16 PM
As hard and painful as it might’ve been to believe, the war was over. Six long years of fighting across so many fronts was now, at long last, finally done. It had not come in the way that Yuna had thought, and indeed many a tear had been shed upon the mountaintop, but she could at least take solace in knowing that it had been achieved. Though perhaps it had all been for nothing—perhaps Fusan had been led into war on a false hope and a lie—it was a dream which she, like many others her age, well and truly believed in. Sonyu and his heirs may not have truly sought the liberation of East Ardia, but that was what they had fought for and nothing less than that. And indeed, the fight continued across the sea. Fusan may not have been in the war, much like Tytor had been at the end of the last war—if that was even the right term now—but her allies were, and so that dream was still alive. If nothing else, there was hope.
Hope was all she needed, as it happened. It was what had kept her from despair all these years, only being shattered when Kahori died, but now, she needed it more than ever. So why not cling to that, at least for now? Yet when she returned home from the family’s terrace, she was soon distracted from her thoughts of surrender, of the end of the war, by a sight she hadn’t seen in a long, long time: finely-polished white rice. Apparently, the Umekis had been keeping it in the event that either the war ended or an invasion was imminent, whichever came sooner. It seemed that it would, in fact, be the former, though of course, there was hardly a celebratory mood within the family. Yet it wasn’t mournful, either. Privately, everyone had hoped the war would end; even Yuna, despite her poor showing earlier, had hoped to see the war end soon, albeit not in this fashion.
It was admittedly hard to remember what life was like before the war, at least for her. Of course, she had memories, it was just… this had dominated her life ever since she was fourteen, and Fusan had been on a war footing for two years before then. Yuna wondered, for a brief moment as they—herself, Azumi, and Natsumi—prepared dinner for the rest of the family, if knowing what she would become, her past self would try to change anything. Certainly, from her own perspective, she thought as she looked at her stump of an arm, there had been some things which she regretted, but… for the life of her, she couldn’t find anything which she would change, save mayhaps not listening to her niece on that fateful day in June. The fact of the matter was that, in spite of it all, her experiences had shaped her, made her the woman she was now, and that was something she could live with.
Eventually, the time had come to eat, and so, everyone crowded around the small table in the living room. In a strange way, though her own parents and sister were obviously not present, it reminded Yuna of the day she had gotten married. Though it had only been a little over a year and a half ago, it felt as though a lifetime had passed. Back then, the war hadn’t come to their shores, and now, it would hopefully never come again. Yet in spite of the war being over, many found it difficult to speak of anything but it, or rather, about its end and what that meant for themselves and for the nation as a whole.
“I still can’t believe it, y’know.” Entaro—Iwao’s uncle—said between bites of his rice. “I mean, how I see it, we had the Ardians on the run, but now that we’ve taken back those damned islands, we give up? Where’s the sense in that?”
“There isn’t any.” Iwao sighed, leaning back slightly and propping himself up with his hands. “But then again, I suppose the world hasn’t made much sense for these last few years, either.”
“Actually, it makes plenty of sense.” Daisaku pointed out after looking outside for a moment. “See, if we didn’t get the islands back, then we’d leave the Ardians in a position to impose harsher demands on us. By retaking them, we could in effect regain all of our land and achieve something close to how we were before the war. ’status-quo ante-bellum’, I believe the term was?” He added, almost entirely butchering its pronunciation.
“And when did you become an expert on politics, Mr. Know-It-All?” Entaro asked in jest.
“I… pick things up at work and from the radio.”
“It’s a shame that we only have rice and nothing else.” Yuna sighed as she looked down at her bowl. Even if this was a special occasion, she couldn’t help but think about how much more complicated meals could be, even in wartime.
“Well, with the war ending, I figured we could do something different than relying on rations tonight.” Natsumi noted as everyone else ate. “Soon enough, I think we might be able to have more than a handful of sardines and sweet potatoes with it.”
“If I never have to try that ‘Lord Hachisuka rice’ again, I think I’ll die happy.” Azumi pointed out, which got the agreement of everyone else in the room.
“You can say that again.” Yuna said, remembering the first time she made it after her wedding.
A few more minutes passed before Daisaku spoke up once more, having had something of an epiphany. It was awfully dark in the room thanks to the drapes they’d had to put up around the lights, but with the war being over, it was now completely useless.
“I can’t believe I almost forgot… Not at war anymore.” He said, standing up before removing the drapes. And so, for the first time in many years, lights shone from the base of Mt. Takimine, even in defiance of the destruction which lay below.