Struggling not to break down and cry on the spot, I turned away from the wall and looked toward the other side of the hall, which was lined with several glass display cases featuring keepsakes and mementos presumably left behind by the deceased. Among them was a large selection of letters and other documents, faded and tattered from having been read over and over across the years. My eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to them; I looked them over briefly one by one as I tried my best to keep pace with the rest of my group and not get left behind as they made their way down the hall.
There were diary entries written the night before the writer was sortied. Poems allegedly composed just hours before takeoff. Slogans like “SINK THE MOTHERSHIP” and “ONE PLANE FOR EVERY SHIP” written in bold letters on calligraphy paper. All of them were written in beautiful lettering in deep black ink. There were also quite a few letters that appeared to be a given soldier’s last will and testament. Many of these ended with stereotypical phrases like “LONG LIVE THE EMPEROR,” “GLORY TO THE EMPIRE,” and so on.
I wondered how it felt to write letters like this to one’s family. Or for family members to have to read them, for that matter. Presumably, the letters Akira and his friends had written to their loved ones and left with Tsuru were just like these…
Then, as I was absentmindedly looking around the display case, my eyes landed on some handwriting I recognized. I let out a gasp before leaning in to examine it closer. There was no doubt about it—this was Teraoka’s penmanship.
But try as I might to trace the letters on the page, they were too small and too indistinct for me to really make out what he was saying for the entire first page—aside from the fact that it was a long letter addressed to his wife, and the words Take care of Kayo for me at the very end. I assumed Kayo was their baby daughter.
Beside this first page, however, there was a second one, which was apparently addressed to said daughter and written entirely in big, clear katakana characters. Presumably, he wanted to make it easier for her to read—but fortunately, this meant that I could actually decipher this one as well.
To Kayo—please read this when you’re a little older.
Be sure to always take your schoolwork seriously and try to help your mother around the house. I’m sorry I never got to meet you, but don’t be sad. By the time you read this, your father will have become the divine wind that will protect our country. So if you ever feel lonely, just look up into the sky and know that I will always be watching over you.
…I couldn’t help but wonder if Kayo ever got the chance to read this. And if she did, what did she think of it, especially given that Japan would have long since lost the war by the time she was old enough to understand it?
I looked over at the next letter in the display case. This one was written by Ishimaru. His penmanship was equally good, but he didn’t write in cursive like Teraoka had, so it was much easier for me to read.
“Hello, everyone. It’s me, writing to you from up here in heaven.”
It was such an Ishimaru way of opening a letter, I couldn’t help but smile.
Come tomorrow, I’ll be heading off into the sunset. Mother, Father—thank you so much for raising and taking care of me these past twenty-odd years. I couldn’t have asked for a life more fun than the one I’ve already lived, so I’m leaving with no regrets. Oh, by the way, don’t worry—I won’t be leaving any debts or secret mistresses with illegitimate children behind for you to have to deal with either!
Anyway, I guess this is goodbye for now, but rest assured that I’ll be going out with a full heart and a smile on my face. See you all up there.
I chuckled at the part about debts and secret mistresses; leave it to Ishimaru to use his final will and testament as an excuse to crack one last joke. He really had been a merry soul—so cheerful and full of whimsy. I guessed he’d chosen to write his letter like this in the hopes that it might soften his family’s sorrows, if only a little.
I felt my lips curl into the slightest of grins as I reminisced about Ishimaru and his kindhearted nature, before moving on to the next letter in the display case.
The moment I saw it, my heart stopped.
For a brief second, everything went white, and I nearly lost my balance, having to hold on to the display case just to keep myself from falling over as I waited out the shock.
It was Akira’s.
Akira’s handwriting. Akira’s lettering.
I was so shaken, I could feel the taste of bile climbing up the back of my throat, and I had to suppress the urge to vomit as I looked down at the letters in disbelief.
There was one to his father. One to his mother. And one to each of his siblings.
I pitched forward, clinging to the display case like an insane person as I leaned in as close as I could to read the words.
Dear Father,
Words cannot express how grateful I am to you for giving me such a strict and proper upbringing.
While I was unable to repay your kindness in life, I hope I can at least bring honor to you in death, as tomorrow I carry out this greatest and most noble of missions that has been bestowed upon me. I will finally fulfill my childhood dream of scattering in the wind like a cherry blossom for the sake of our nation. I go now, steadfast in my belief that our great empire will live on for all eternity.
His words were strong and carried no hint of doubt. They conveyed his conviction extremely well. When I read them, I could almost feel that same unwavering confidence I’d seen whenever I looked into his eyes.
Dear Mother,
In my mind, you have always been the very image of an ideal Japanese woman—both strong and gentle—and it has been my distinct honor to be raised in the grace of your love. It is with great happiness that I go now to meet my death. Please know that your Akira has no lingering regrets or emotions that bind him to this world.
Please also forgive any prior disobedience I may have shown you in life, whether as a rambunctious child or a naive young adult. Know that I will be waiting patiently for you and Father in the afterlife—so live as long and as healthily as you possibly can.
His letter to his mother was much gentler and more affectionate than the one he’d written to his father—which made sense. It was all very like him. When I read these words, I could almost see his gentle, all-encompassing smile on the backs of my eyelids.
Dear Satoshi,
Your older brother has been selected to serve as a kamikaze pilot. It is an honor I scarcely deserve; the mere thought of being permitted to give my life for the sake of our country fills me with such elation, I still get chills. I swear to you that I will carry out my mission with great pride. By the time you read this, I will be at rest at the bottom of the sea, sleeping peacefully in the knowledge that I took one of the enemy’s ships down with me. There is no greater honor I could ask for as a Japanese man. Know that, although your brother’s life was short, his name will live on in everlasting glory.