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Lifetimes of Change (Historical Vignettes set from 1891 - 2011)

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Daitō:
Shadows of the Past, Part Two: Voices From BeyondAkiōta-Honmachi, Hatsukaichi, Izumi Prefecture
December 6th, 1945
4:47 PM

   It was truly quite striking, Yuna thought as she wandered these streets she once called home, how little of the city was left standing. Even now, just four months on from when the bomb fell, little had been done to rebuild as had been in Kyūre. A most horrible fate had befallen it, one etched into the faces of those who yet survived, who had known firsthand the power of science corrupted in the pursuit of victory. For Hatsukaichi, at least as she had once known it, had died on the 5th of August, and yet it persisted almost as a ghost, a shadow of its former self. People wandered the streets, often aimless as there was simply nothing left for them, save for the scant few buildings which had survived relatively unscathed and the vast number of shacks which adorned the riverside. Many seemed to be searching for their missing loved ones, and indeed some had mistaken her for people they once knew, no doubt hopeful that they had somehow survived.

   It was honestly heartbreaking to see. From the corner of her eye, even she thought she might’ve seen her mother, but that had proven to have just been a case of mistaken identity. She knew she was gone, yet she still hoped that Ikuko had been wrong, that she had survived and maybe, just maybe, she simply had to be hospitalized as Daisaku had earlier in the year. It was a fool’s hope, perhaps, but some part of her still clung to it. As she passed the old Industrial Promotion Hall, ruined as it was, she looked down at the letter her brother had given her a year prior, still unopened and of course, still undelivered. She wished he’d given an address, but he was somehow worse at remembering them than even she had been, so perhaps he forgot. Either way, it was probably impossible to find its intended recipient now, since she’d waited until she could be absolutely certain that he was gone.
   ”...Y’know what, I may as well take a peek.” she thought as she looked at it before, albeit in a haphazard fashion, opening the envelope, propping it against her right arm and pulling out the letter. What she saw was, admittedly, not what she expected.
   ”My dearest sister,” it opened, and almost immediately, she realized that he had lied to her. There was no “special someone” in his life, and frankly, the fact that he’d wanted them to meet despite not giving any information about her gave it away. With a sigh, she continued to walk, making her way towards one of the many bridges on the Watari. ”I suppose you’re probably surprised that I’ve addressed this to you, but in the end, let’s be honest. I’m married to the job, so I don’t have room for a partner. Not yet, or… I suppose I never will, given that I’m likely dead by the time you’re reading this, so I guess that makes this my farewell.

   ”It’s strange, writing a letter like this, knowing that I am not likely to survive. I’ve had time to think about it, and the truth is, I am afraid. Every time I get into the cockpit, I fear that I might not be lucky enough to come home, but more than that, I fear what will happen if we fail. But today is different. I know that, when I climb into that aircraft, I will be fighting to protect people like you, people like Kahori. If I am to die, I take comfort in this fact, for our cause is righteous, even as we scatter like blossoms on the wind.” The letter read, though Yuna stopped for a time, tears streaming down her face as she looked out on the water, out towards Nomijima. Just a few years prior, he’d graduated from there… How proud they’d all been of him. Eventually though, she would continue to read the… honestly kinda short letter. ”I will admit, though, that I envy you, Yuna. I can only imagine the dreams you’ll have, the lessons you’ll learn, the joy you’ll feel. For though these times will certainly be hard, I know you well enough that you will, in time, be able to come back from anything. Hold true to what you’ve learned, and live a good life for me. And when the time comes, I will eagerly await you in the High Heavens. Yours forever, Isao.”

   Truth be told, it was much, much shorter than she had anticipated, but honestly, Yuna also hadn’t expected him to address it to her. The last words of a man to someone he cared deeply for, the last written testament that he had, in fact, once drawn breath. A brother—a son of the Empire—who would never come home again, who gave of himself his very life for those he cared so immensely for. He died so that others might live, so that she might live. If he was watching down on her from the heavens, then what might he think of her now? Best not to squander it.
   “Your sacrifice… You made it so that we may live. I promise I won’t waste it, o-niisan.” She said, her voice wavering for but a moment, before offering a prayer for his spirit in the light of the setting sun. What a familiar sight it was, even with all of this destruction. Eleven years ago, she drew this very scene, and though she didn’t know it then, that very decision changed her life forever. It was just then that she felt someone grab her shoulder.
   “None of us will.” Someone said, solemn yet with a hint of joy, though his voice was hard to make out from the crowd. “I hope you didn’t wait too long, did you, Yuna?”

   She froze for a moment, not entirely sure as to how she should react. Clearly, it wasn’t a case of mistaken identity, for he was too familiar with her. It only lasted for a brief second before she glanced over, then back out at the water before realizing who it was.
   “Iwao?” She asked, surprised to see her. “I didn’t… I… Well, I’m glad to see you’re okay.”
   “More than okay.” Iwao said, leaning against the railing as he spoke. “As of noon, I’ve officially been demobilized. I ain’t getting called back for service anymore.” He added. It was a bittersweet arrangement, since on one hand, he didn’t have to worry about being reassigned to some other far-flung town, but on the other hand, he suddenly found himself out of a job. It was just lucky he still had friends out there. “Though my ex-superior officer did give me a recommendation that’ll help me find work in-”
   “Haruya, is that you?” An elderly woman asked, interrupting them and grabbing his sleeve. No doubt, she was looking for someone she knew.
   “No, sorry.” Iwao replied. “I hope you find him, though.” He noted as she walked off, dejected. For a moment, he was silent, processing what had just happened. After giving it some thought, he said “Everyone here’s lost someone. Searching for someone too, I’d imagine. I can see it in their faces… It’s sorta like what I saw back when Kyūre burned, but not on this scale.”
   “You’re not the only one.” Yuna sighed.
   “Yuna, do you remember how we first met on this bridge?” Iwao said, looking down at his reflection on the water. “Those days… We can’t go back to them, I know. Us, this city, everything is changing. I’m gonna admit, I am worried about what this will all mean, but… I don’t think I could imagine living to see that without you.” He added, stroking her cheek for a moment as he spoke.
   “I… I would like that.” She smiled. “Now don’t leave me, okay? Please, stay right with me, forever.”

Daitō:
Like Blossoms on the WindSaeki, Hatsukaichi, Izumi Prefecture
August 5th - December 6th, 1945

   There were some days which would linger on, forever changing a person and turning their life upside down. For some, it might be the day they married, or perhaps the day their first child was born, and in those cases, such days would be celebrated, but for all the good in the world, some days were truly horrible, both in scope and in the events themselves. The fifth of August, 1945, was one such day when not only did the world change forever, but lives too were broken, burned away, and likewise changed. For the young daughter of a soldier and a factory worker in the district of Saeki, only four years old at the time, this would be a story that she would face.

   It had seemed like an ordinary Sunday morning, the day of a festival celebrating the city’s founding, and yet her mother had no joy in her heart. Her father had gone missing, though she didn’t know that at the time. She knew only that she was sad, though she tried her best to hide it. Maybe it was because of all the times they’d had to go down in the basement, to hide from the noises in the sky? That had to be it, she had thought back then. And yet, what fragmentary memories she had from that day was simply of the moment the bomb fell and their home was turned to splinters.

   Her next memory of that black day was being dragged from the rubble of their home by her mother, grievously wounded, yet determined to get her to safety. ”Just a little bit farther”, she told her. ”We’re going to be okay.” She’d lied. The truth was that she had lost her right arm, and she was now bleeding profusely, though of course, the daughter had believed that she would be okay. This was just a bad dream, and she needed to wake up. By the time noon had rolled around, they’d made it across the Watari, at which time, her mother sat upon some rubble, ostensibly to rest, and so too did she stay by her side until she’d wake up.

   She never woke up again.

   A few days would pass, yet the daughter remained by her mother’s side, certain that she would wake up, that everything would be okay. It would only be when the flies swarmed them on the day of the eighth that she finally had to move on, if only so that she might find food. She planned to return to her, but by nightfall, her mother was gone, perhaps having woken up, she thought, though it was more likely she’d been taken for cremation. And so, for the first time in her life, the daughter found herself alone in the world, in a city of the dead where the fires yet raged. What future could she have, if any at all? Would she live to see another new year? All was uncertain, for the future was yet unwritten.

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