“My dearest Jojiro. I hope you’ve been well since last I wrote. Kayo and I have both been in exceptionally good health. I’m certain she feels quite proud, as I do, to know that her father is doing such noble and important work for our nation and for His Majesty. Please worry not for our daughter’s well-being, for I swear on my name that I shall raise her true. I ask that you focus wholeheartedly on your mission alone, with no regrets or misgivings about us weighing on your conscience as you carry out your duty. Though I cannot be there with you, rest assured that I will be watching from beneath a faraway sky as you fly south, praying the winds of fortune will be at your back. Forever yours, Yasuko.”
Her heartfelt, steadfast words rendered me speechless.
As I stood there in silence, it was the hot-blooded Kato who spoke up next.
“You know, Yuri-chan… I was a junior high school teacher myself,” he said. “And as the war went on and intensified, I’d heard through the grapevine that many of my former students had been pulled out of school for conscription, with several of them having already died in action… It’s an unbearable thought to me—my former pupils dying in air raids, or in faraway battles in the Pacific Theater… And I couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it. So when I got my draft papers, it honestly came as a huge relief. Now, I could finally stand up and do something to protect my students, just like a teacher should, I thought. So when the base I was stationed at asked if anyone wanted to volunteer themselves as a kamikaze pilot, you can bet I was the very first to raise my hand.”
He spoke with such passion and pride that, again, I couldn’t say a word.
“I’ve always wanted to be a soldier ever since I was little,” Ishimaru said with a bright smile. “Decided from a pretty early age that I was gonna join the army once I grew up and risk my life fighting for my country. Call me a slave to propaganda if you want, I guess—but for me, that’s just what it means to be a real Japanese patriot, y’know?”
It sounded almost like he was trying to make light of the situation, but Itakura shook his head.
“No, same here,” the younger boy said with a smile. “That’s why I joined up too.”
Akira was the last one to give a reason.
“One of my superior officers put it to us like this,” he began. “‘The situation’s not looking good at this point; we can’t hope to match our enemies in terms of resources or manpower. Our only hope for saving Japan now is if brave young soldiers like you are willing to step forth and give everything you have, your very souls, to the cause. Now tell me: Who among you is willing to lay down their life for their country, their emperor, and their dear friends and loved ones?’ For whatever reason, I was deeply moved by the way he spoke of it—and the thought of being able to give my ‘very soul’ to the cause of defending Japan. It was more than enough to convince me to raise my hand.”
I stared him directly in the eyes, and he looked straight back at me.
His eyes were untainted and unclouded, his pupils pure and clear.
What in the world was he saying? Could he even hear himself?
I didn’t understand it. How could he possibly be so delusional?
It must have been harder for me to swallow all this as someone who knew exactly how the war was going to end. There was nothing these men could do to keep Japan from surrendering in a few months’ time, meaning their deaths would be utterly in vain. A few sunken warships were not going to change the outcome at this point.
And yes, of course, losing the war would not be pleasant for any of us. It’d come with its fair share of pain and dishonor. But it wasn’t going to be the complete disaster these men clearly believed it would be. It would take quite some time to rebuild and recover, sure—but Japan would ultimately rebound and bring about an end to all the suffering this war had caused to our country and its people for so many years. I knew firsthand that this would eventually lead to Japan becoming an even more prosperous nation than ever.
All that is to say that there was no need for these men to die. What sense could there possibly be in sacrificing brave, earnest young men with so much left to live for to fight a war that was already lost? I couldn’t bear being the only one who knew it would all be for nothing; I wanted to shout from the rooftops that Japan was going to surrender. But I knew none of them would believe me; they’d only call me a traitor or a lunatic. So instead, I just said this:
“…It’s just stupid to volunteer yourself to die, no matter the cause. It’s a waste of a perfectly good life, and all the potential it carries… You might as well just be committing suicide. Anyone who’d follow an order like that without protest is just as blind and stupid as the stubborn, prideful old men giving them out. You don’t have to do this, you know… Just run away or something! Who cares what anyone else might think of you?!”
My voice was trembling. A moment after I finished, I heard Akira chuckle.
“…You really are honest to a fault, Yuri,” he said softly. “You wear your heart on your sleeve—it’s a good thing, don’t get me wrong.”
Teraoka and Ishmaru nodded in agreement.
“I understand what you’re trying to say,” Akira continued. “But see, the truth is…the war’s not going as well as the newspapers make it seem. If we can’t turn the tides even a little bit, Japan is going to end up having to make an unconditional surrender on extremely unfavorable terms. If that happens, our country will be crippled to the core; there will be no future for Japan as we know it. The only way for us to prevent that from happening, now that we’re at a distinct numbers and firepower disadvantage, is to throw all caution to the wind and try to hit them where it hurts, no matter the cost.”
He spoke calm and sure, with no hint of doubt or hesitation on his face.
It pained me to see how steadfast his resolve was in this. Desperate to see if I could somehow change his mind, I argued with him.
“Sure, but it still won’t change a thing,” I said. “You’ll just be throwing away your lives for nothing. Even if you do manage to sink an enemy ship, we’re still going to lose in the end.”
“You really are the most outspoken girl I know—I like that about you,” said Akira. “But I don’t consider that throwing away my life. I would consider it using my life to the fullest extent of its potential to save Japan and my fellow countrymen. Could there be any more noble or honorable purpose in life than that?”
I was silent. I didn’t know what to say.
How, Akira? How could you be so certain that Japan still had a bright future ahead, even if you wouldn’t live to see it? What made you so sure that victory was only achievable at the cost of your life? That your death would save your family’s lives?
It didn’t make any sense. It all just felt so blatantly wrong.
There was so much I wanted to say—both in protest and in reassurance—and so much I wished I could make him understand that my heart felt like it was going to overflow from the tempest of emotions now swirling inside my chest.
But I couldn’t think of a single word I could say that would convince these men to abandon the fate they’d chosen for themselves. Instead, I just turned on my heel and walked out of the room, gripping my serving tray tight.
I was irritated. And upset. Woefully, terribly, helplessly upset.