CHAPTER ONE:
EARLY SUMMER
The Old Air Raid Shelter
“SO YOU SEE…BY 1945, AS THE OVERALL LANDSCAPE of the war grew worse and worse, it became abundantly clear just how much of a disadvantage Japan was at… By that point, the US military was conducting firebombings all across the country, scorching the earth… Even our little town was subjected to a large-scale air raid in the final days of the war…”
The teacher’s throaty voice echoed through the room as he scribbled all over the blackboard. But I wasn’t paying any attention; my mind was somewhere else entirely. My elbow resting on the desk and my cheek resting on my palm, I cast my gaze out the window—into the square-shaped cutout of the vast blue sky held within its frame.
Why am I so irritated all the time lately?
I couldn’t explain it, but it felt like every single day now, I was on edge. Maybe it was the way my mom always lectured me about every little thing. How the school treated us like prisoners with all its stupid rules and regulations. Maybe it was the sweltering heat in this stuffy classroom. The incessant chirping of the cicadas pouring through the wide-open windows. Maybe it was the pompous attitude of our teacher, always talking down to us from the lectern. Maybe it was the sound of his chalk scuffing against the blackboard, or my classmates’ pencils scribbling in their notebooks. Or maybe it was all of it combined. Maybe everything in my life was conspiring to piss me off.
The hoarse choir of cicadas continued their unending song, as if determined to drown out all other sounds in the whole world with their shrill, obnoxious cries.
Shut up… Shut up… Shut up!
I could feel my blood beginning to boil—and it was already hot enough outside as it was. My brow furrowed. I glared out the window.
There was no textbook open on my desk; I hadn’t taken any notes the entire period, nor had I even pulled out any writing utensils to even pretend I might. Why would I, when I hated studying more than anything, with history being my least favorite subject? Why should I care about stuff that happened decades or even centuries before I was born? What good would that information do me now? I wasn’t going to school because I wanted to, and I couldn’t care less about scoring highly on my exams either. The whole song and dance felt utterly stupid and pointless to me—so why should I bother at all?
I hated school with every fiber of my being. Could there be any place on Earth more insufferable, more suffocating than this? I wished I could just stop attending altogether—but knew it would be an even bigger headache to deal with the constant lecturing I’d get from my mother and teachers if I were to go full-on truant. I had to begrudgingly play my part.
“Hey! Kano!”
Hearing my name blurted out, I knitted my eyebrows and slowly turned to face forward. I locked eyes with the teacher, who glared back at me with a stern expression.
“Have you been listening at all?!” he demanded.
“…I think I got the gist,” I replied.
“The ‘gist,’ she says… Why can’t you just pay attention like you’re supposed to?! You’d better be writing all of this down, because it’ll be on the next exam!”
His overbearing tone was loud enough that he was now verging on shouting at me. I didn’t know why all teachers felt the need to act so high and mighty with their students; did they really think their menial profession was something to puff out their chests and boast about?
“Oh, don’t worry,” I said. “I’m not.”
I could have lied and told him I was, I supposed, but I didn’t see any need to keep up appearances at this point. He was going to chew me out regardless, right? And sure enough, in the very next instant, the teacher’s face went redder than a ripe tomato.
“Don’t give me that crap!” he barked. “You think it’s funny, talking back to your teacher like that?! I won’t let you make a mockery out of me!”
Hey, you’re the one who asked, I muttered internally. I was just being honest…
I saw no point in bickering with him any further, so I just stared back at him in silence. Eventually, he gulped hard as if to swallow down his simmering rage, then said:
“…Fine, whatever. Just turn to page 120 and start reading from paragraph four.”
I let out an exasperated sigh, then pulled out my textbook and slowly rose from my chair. I could feel my classmates’ gazes on me—some of them turning their heads to look, others simply peeking out of the corners of their eyes. All of them were curious to see if we’d clash again. I could see a vein bulging from my teacher’s forehead, still pulsing with rage as he waited for me to begin.
I let out another heavy sigh, then started reading the passage I’d been assigned:
“…Desperate for any way to turn the tides of the war in their favor, it was at this point that Japan shifted its strategy toward suicide bomb—”
“We can’t hear you!” my teacher shouted, interrupting me.
That was enough to push my frustration over the line into fury.
“…I’m not feeling very well,” I said. “I need to go to the nurse’s office.”
Eyes downcast, I threw my textbook down and stormed out of the classroom. My teacher scrunched up his face and shouted after me, but I ignored him as I stomped right out the door. My classmates watched dumbfounded as I went—then immediately started chattering among themselves as soon as I was gone. For a group of cowards who always tried to act like I didn’t exist, they sure were taking an interest in me now. How pathetic. God, I hate this place… I hate everything about it.
I didn’t actually go to the nurse’s office, of course. Instead, I climbed the stairwell at the very end of the hall. Students weren’t actually allowed out onto the roof, but the lock on the door had been broken for a long time now. Gripping the rusted handle, I pushed open the old, faded iron door—and immediately, the humidity hit my skin like a crashing wave.
I stepped out onto the rooftop, my shoes scuffing against the sunbaked concrete as I made my way over to the water tower and lay myself down in its shadow. Even in the shade, it was so hot up here in the direct sunlight that I could hardly breathe.
There was nowhere I felt comfortable. Not at home, not in class—not even here beneath the bright blue sky. I had no escape, no haven where I could ease my frustrations. But at least here, I didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing me; that fact alone made it at least a little better than anywhere else.
I waited until the last bell rang and watched the sports teams begin to gather on the athletic fields for practice before I finally descended from the rooftop. I made a quick detour by the now-empty classroom to gather my things, then hurried off campus as fast as I could.
Featureless houses and apartment buildings lined the narrow roads on my way back home. Not that I was going home of my own volition, by any means; my legs were just taking me there as if by pure mechanical reflex.