“Yep, see you in a bit,” I said. “Take care.”
In the end, I couldn’t summon up the courage to go and see them off.
I knew that even if I could bring myself to go, I’d probably try to dive in front of his plane or something and beg him not to leave. I knew I’d get too emotional again, so I was content with the note we’d ended things on last night—it was a simple, but elegant goodbye. I didn’t want to ruin it. More than anything else, I just didn’t want to cause him any more trouble or inconvenience.
I sat in a corner of my room, hugging my knees to my chest as I glared down at the tatami mats. It was a beautiful day—but an absolute scorcher. With the windows wide open, the cicadas sounded even louder and more obnoxious than usual. That was one thing about summer I was fairly certain I’d never learn to love in any time period.
Suddenly, a gust of wind blew in through the window, and the old wind chimes hanging from the eaves outside danced and sang in the breeze as a stack of envelopes that had been left lying on the low dining table was blown to the ground.
Oh, shoot, I thought to myself. I’d better get those.
I walked over and picked up the envelopes—but for whatever reason, I decided to give them a once-over before setting them down again. At the top of the stack was a note in Tsuru’s handwriting that read, “Please post these as soon as you possibly can.”
I flipped through the envelopes and I quickly realized they were all letters addressed to the family members of the kamikaze pilots. Their final wills and testaments, most likely. All of them were sealed tightly, with the recipients’ names written in jet-black ink.
I assumed the men had given them to Tsuru to deliver last night; she’d told me how they’d sometimes use her as a proxy for sending letters home to their families, since doing so through the proper military channels meant their contents would be inspected and even potentially censored.
Unable to help myself, I flipped through the envelopes. I quickly recognized the one with Teraoka’s meticulous handwriting; I didn’t know the names it was addressed to, but I assumed they had to be his wife and daughter.
Next, I recognized the ones with thick, emphatic handwriting as Kato’s; there seemed to be one addressed to his father, as well as one addressed to his junior high students. He was a devoted instructor to the very end.
Ishimaru’s penmanship was surprisingly good—he seemed to have written one letter to his entire family, and signed it, “From Satoshi, in Heaven (please don’t try to return to sender!!).” He even found a way to crack a joke here—but this one hit a little too bittersweet for me.
Finally…I came to Akira. His writing was delicate and refined. It seemed he’d written separate letters to each member of his family. I thought it was just so like him as I flipped through them all—one to his father, one to his mother, one to his younger brother, and one to his little sister.
But then I paused in confusion, noticing one more letter at the bottom of the stack. Curious, I pulled it out to see who it was addressed to, and—
“…No way.”
The envelope read simply: “To Yuri.”
I felt my heart skip a beat.
It was for me. A letter from Akira, addressed to me.
I could hear my pulse pounding loudly in my ears.
Moving on their own, my lips mouthed three syllables: Akira.
Akira. Akira. Akira.
Voicelessly, I called his name over and over.
He really was a cruel man—he’d captured my heart with his kindness and refused to let go, all the way to the very end.
Before I knew it, I’d started running.
I burst out of the house, cutting through alleyways out onto the main drag, where I started sprinting as fast as I could—not even acknowledging the number of people I was bumping into. I ran through entire blocks of burned-down houses, still in ruins from the recent firebombing, as I made a beeline toward the base.
I’d never run so fast in my entire life. Not even the night of the air raid.
I could feel the scorching hot sun beating down on my skin, and the sweat running down my back like a waterfall. My sides hurt, and my throat was bone-dry. My legs felt like feeble little twigs, and I tripped over my own toes, falling down again and again and again.
But I refused to slow down.
I had to make it in time. Had to.
I prayed as hard as I could—to whatever god might be out there listening.
Whatever deity had created this cruel, messed-up world in the first place.
The cruel celestial being who saw fit to let Akira die for no good reason.
If you’re out there, whoever you are—at least grant me this one last wish.
Eventually, the airfield’s runway came into view.
I was struggling to breathe.
My lungs were on fire.
My whole body was in pain.
It hurt. God, it hurt. But I had to power through.
Had to get there—just one minute, just one second faster.
The planes were already lined up on the runway, taxiing into position.
Wait, no… Don’t go… You can’t leave yet…
Just wait one more minute… Please…
A huge crowd of people had gathered along the side of the runway. There were old men saluting the kamikaze pilots, and little boys trying to follow their example. There were old women dabbing their tears with pure white handkerchiefs, and schoolgirls holding bouquets of flowers high above their heads.
Beyond the crowd of onlookers, I could see the pilots smiling and waving at them from their cockpits. Some of them were holding up gifts from their family members or the townsfolk, flowers or stuffed animals or what have you, and trying to shout out a few words—but the engine sounds drowned out their voices. I could at least make out the words thank you from their lip movements. The men were all dressed in brand-new military uniforms, with white scarves around their necks that shone brilliantly in the sunlight—as bright and beaming as their indefatigable, unclouded smiles.
I pushed my way through to the front of the crowd and searched for Akira, scanning the planes one by one as they passed right before my eyes for takeoff, the men flashing the crowd one last smile as they headed off.
“Oh, what bravery… So radiant, so divine…” said an older woman standing next to me, before placing her hands together in prayer. “Go now, ye gods among the living…”
I watched as Kato’s plane passed in front of me. He wore a headband adorned with the bright red dot of the Japanese flag that read “SINK THEM IN ONE BLOW.” Next was Ishimaru’s plane. Even as he accelerated for takeoff, he turned to wave at the crowd with his usual, effervescent smile. And following immediately after him—
“Akira… AKIRAAA!”
I shouted at the top of my lungs.
I had no idea if he could hear me.
But I had to try.
“Akira! Akira! Akira!”
My voice was swallowed by the cheering crowd and the roaring engines. Even still, I cried out for him, waving my hand as hard and as high as I possibly could.
Whether my voice actually reached him or not, I didn’t know—but eventually, his gaze landed on me, and his eyes widened in surprise, before relaxing into that gentle smile I loved so much. Then he took one hand off the plane’s control stick and grabbed something—something that was sticking out from a corner of his jacket’s chest pocket, nestled right against his heart—and tossed it out to me.
Startled, I fumbled my hands out to catch it.
It was a single lily flower—perfect and in full bloom.
Its sweet fragrance wafted up into my nose.
I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer.
I lifted my head and tried to call out his name one last time, but the voice wouldn’t come. All I could do was watch in dumbfounded disbelief as he waved and passed me by, wearing the most beautiful smile I’d seen in my life.
He was the last one in the line; up ahead, I could see the first plane slowly lift itself off the runway and begin rising up into the air. Then the next, and the next—until eventually, Akira’s plane began climbing upward into the sky as well.
Upward and upward they soared, as if to pierce the ether itself, before the planes got into formation. Then, as if to make one last show of gratitude to the gathered crowd, they circled around and did one final flyby directly over our heads, before turning and heading due south.
I stood there unblinking as I clutched the lily to my chest and watched them go—their planes growing smaller and smaller until they were no more than tiny pinpricks of light heading off into the vast blue expanse, never to return.
Just then, a force like a violent wind washed over me like a wave.
My body lurched forward, and I fell to the hard earth.
That was when I lost consciousness.