This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are either products of the author's imaginations or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events are purely coincidental
In the aftermath of the unprecedented atomic bomb that devastated Hiroshima, Japan lay in ruins, its people grappling with the unimaginable horrors of war.
Amidst the chaos and despair, Senku, a skilled and compassionate war doctor, found himself amidst the wounded and suffering. It was in this desolate landscape that he encountered an unusual patient, Kohaku, a striking young woman whose scarred face bore witness to the cataclysmic event.
Day by day, Kohaku faced the grueling aftermath of the blast, battling against radiation sickness, hunger, and the loss of loved ones. Senku, ever the dedicated companion, scoured the barren landscape for scarce supplies, treating her wounds and doing his utmost to sustain her strength.
He tended to her injuries, while Kohaku remained silent, her eyes reflecting the haunting experiences she had endured. Days passed, and he patiently cared for her, hoping that with time, she would find solace and begin to heal, both physically and emotionally. Finally, as Kohaku's strength returned, she broke her silence and spoke to Senku.
It was the first time in months he had heard her speak and he can't help but wonder how Kohaku's voice was soft yet laced with an unmistakable intensity. "Doctor Senku," she began, her gaze steady yet her voice remained hoarse, "Death has become a constant companion to us, hasn't it? In the blink of an eye, lives are shattered, and futures are stolen."
Senku puts down the remaining bandages on her side table after wrapping it on her arms to avoid infection. He looks up at her with a somber expression on his face. "One can say, it's a grim reality we face in times of war. Death is a stark reminder of our vulnerability as humans."
He looked up at her, half of her head had turned bald, and the aftermath of the disaster left a deep scar etched on the right side of her face and scalp, Kohaku's eyes remained distant and lifeless, "But it's not just war, is it? Death is a part of life, always lurking in the shadows, waiting for its moment to claim us. I've seen it, felt it, and now, it feels so close."
Senku listened intently, he yearned to comfort her and in these dire times he will gladly do so, so with gentle hands he held her bandaged hands, his mouth turned grim recognizing the depth of her words. "You're right. Death is an inevitable part of our journey. But think of it this way instead, in the face of such uncertainty, we humans often find strength in the connections we forge with others and the impact we leave on this world."
In the stillness of the night, as the echoes of war reverberated in their hearts, Senku's mind turned full on alert when he felt her trembling but immediately caught up to the fact that Kohaku was merely confiding in him, and with a voice tinged with weariness and despair, she spoke again,
"When sleep evades me, I often find myself pacing, like a restless ghost trapped within the confines of this room and consumed by imaginary flames. I still dreamed about what happened. The smoke, though invisible, suffocates me. One thing that always reminded me of a constant reminder of the horrors I've witnessed."
Senku leaned in closer, wiping a solitary tear that grazed her scarred cheek, a silent pillar of support. "In times of war, even the greatest heroes often meet their end in solitude, the weight of their burdens crushing their spirits," he acknowledged softly. "But here, in this moment, know that you're not alone."
Tears welled up in Kohaku's eyes, reflecting how he understands her, "Indeed, my heroes may have perished in isolation, but in the depths of darkness, I have also witnessed the indomitable spirit of humanity, rising like a phoenix from the ruins. I've seen how our fellow countrymen strive to survive while here I am on my lonesome waiting to die."
Kohaku's expression softened, and Senku's eyes widened when he first saw her smile.
A pang of sorrow mingled with admiration surged through his heart. He had once thought that without the mark of the cataclysmic aftermath, she would appear more beautiful, her face would be unblemished by the horrors of war. But as time passed, Senku came to realize that the scar, with all its imperfections, held a profound beauty of its own.
The scar spoke of resilience, of a spirit that had endured the unimaginable. It was a reminder of the strength and courage she consistently showed as she battled for her life day by day until it blossomed amidst the darkness. Like a radiant sun breaking through the clouds, Kohaku continued to shine bright in his eyes, she didn't deserve anything that has happened to her.
In that moment, Senku found himself captivated by the way her smile lit up the room. It was a smile that carried the weight she bore, the memories of a war-torn Japan, and the hope that bloomed amidst the ruins.
True beauty lay not in perfection, but in the stories etched upon one's being. Kohaku's scar, a symbol of her resilience and unwavering spirit, had become an integral part of her beauty, a testament to the triumph of the human soul over adversity.
He watched her gazed out of a cracked window, where the first rays of hope in the form of sunlight peeked through the clouds.
"I want to make a difference, for my people, for those who have suffered…...But I fear my time may be limited." He notices her bowing down her head in despair, but Senku lifts up her chin and looks at her.
Senku's gaze fixed upon Kohaku's face, and his heart sank at the sight that unfolded before him. Half of her face that had borne the brunt of that disaster was scarred, its once smooth surface now marred by the remnants of devastation. The skin, discolored and rough, revealing the harsh realities she had endured.
A shiver ran down Senku's spine as he took in the sight of her torn scalp, a vivid reminder of the destructive force that had torn through their world. The exposed flesh, raw and jagged, served as a haunting testament to the horrors of war.
And then his eyes focused on her right eye, almost literally bloodshot, a stark contrast to the vibrant hue it once possessed. The blood vessels strained, etching a web of crimson against the white of her eye, a painful reminder of the trauma she had endured.
Yet, amidst the disfigurement, Senku saw something else. He saw the strength etched upon her scarred face. He saw the indomitable spirit that refused to be extinguished, despite the unimaginable pain and suffering.
In that moment, Senku's admiration for Kohaku deepened. He saw her not as a victim of war, but as a survivor, a testament to the unyielding human spirit that rose from the ashes of destruction.
As Senku met Kohaku's gaze, he felt a surge of respect and awe. She had faced the darkness head-on, and emerged with a fierce resolve to rebuild and find hope. It was in her scarred face that he saw the true beauty of resilience, a beauty that surpassed physical appearances and touched the depths of the human soul.
And in that moment, Senku vowed to stand by Kohaku's side, to help her heal not just physically, but emotionally as well. For he knew that her scars were not marks of weakness, but emblems of courage and triumph.
Senku's touch, gentle and reassuring, enveloped her hand. "That's the spirit. You really are a unique one, Kohaku."
"Sometimes the greatest courage lies in facing the darkness head-on. If we don't stand up against these horrors, who will?"
In that poignant moment, Kohaku found solace in Senku's presence. They would later navigate the arduous journey of healing, and bound by their shared resolve, they would etch a legacy of hope, lighting the way for a brighter tomorrow.
Through introspection and self-reflection, Kohaku emerged as a beacon of resilience for Senku, her spirit continued shining brightly. She rebuilt the shattered fragments of her identity, piecing together a stronger, more fortified version of herself. Senku witnessed her metamorphosis, admiring the way she found solace in her own existence.
Despite her own physical and emotional struggles, Kohaku also devoted herself to aiding her fallen countrymen. With unwavering determination, she ventured into the ravaged communities, offering whatever assistance she could.
Kohaku tirelessly worked alongside relief organizations, helping to distribute food, medical supplies, and aid to those in need. Her compassion knew no bounds as she listened to the stories of survivors, providing comfort and support in their darkest hours. She offered a helping hand to rebuild homes and infrastructure.
Senku observed as Kohaku used her knowledge of traditional healing practices, he taught her to provide medical care to those who lacked access to proper healthcare facilities. She became a beacon of hope, bringing relief and solace to those who had lost everything.
Senku marveled at Kohaku's selflessness and determination. Despite the pain and suffering she had endured, she remained steadfast in her commitment to helping others. Her actions embodied the strength of the human spirit, she is a living testament to the power of compassion and empathy in these dire times of war.
Sitting under the shade of a cherry blossom tree, Kohaku sat beside Senku who is now laying under it with his eyes closed.
"You know," Kohaku began, her eyes gazing into the distance, "when I look back at everything I've been through, it's like I am trapped in a never-ending cycle of darkness."
Her gaze fixed on the falling petals. "But we managed to find a way to escape, didn't we? We fought, we endured, and here we are."
A wistful smile tugged at Senku's lips. "It's not easy but long gone are the years we are in the clutches of war. We are now in a peaceful era. Metaphorically speaking, yesterday's escape paved the way for our present."
Kohaku's hand gently reached out, surprising Senku with its warmth and the sudden closeness between them. He sat up and stared curiously at Kohaku. Their fingers intertwined, prompting Senku to look into Kohaku's eyes, he noticed a subtle change. They no longer held the distant gaze he had seen when he first met her; instead, they now shimmered with a glimmer of hope and determination.
"And we'll keep escaping, Senku," Kohaku whispered, "We'll continue to rise above the ashes, to embrace what lies ahead."
Senku felt a surge of emotions welling up within him as he listened to Kohaku's heartfelt declaration. Her words resonated deep within his being, igniting a fire within his own heart.
Their intertwined fingers became a symbol of their shared resolve, a silent promise to stand together and face whatever challenges lay ahead. In Kohaku, Senku found a kindred spirit, someone who understood the weight of and the importance of finding hope among all the despair.
Their eyes met, a shared understanding passing between them. In that moment, they found strength in each other's presence, knowing that together they could conquer any remnants of their haunted past.
"No matter what lies ahead," Senku whispered, "Just remember you'll always have me. Yesterday's escape has made us stronger, and I assure you our tomorrows will hold the promise of a new beginning."
A blush spread across Kohaku's scarred face, her eyes widening in surprise. With a gentle squeeze, she held onto Senku's hand tightly, "Then what would you say in continuing our escape, Senku?" she declared, her words resounding with conviction. "To a future where the scars of yesterday become mere remnants of a distant dream."
With each word, Kohaku's voice resonated deep within him, igniting a flame within Senku's heart. As the warmth of their joined hands enveloped them, a surge of hope coursed through Kohaku.
Growing closer with each passing day, Senku gradually shared the wonders of his scientific studies with Kohaku. With fervent passion, he delved into the mysteries of the universe, revealing its boundless beauty that transcended the scars of war.
Through the lens of Senku's knowledge, Kohaku's eyes were opened to a world beyond the ravages of conflict. She marveled at the cosmic dance of galaxies, the intricate workings of atoms, and the grandeur of celestial bodies.
Senku's explanations flowed like a symphony, painting vivid pictures in Kohaku's mind. He spoke of the birth of stars, the forces that shaped the cosmos, and the intricate balance that governed life itself. His words resonated deep within Kohaku's soul, stirring a sense of wonder and awe.
With each revelation, Kohaku's perspective shifted. She saw that there was more to life than the battles she had fought and the wounds she had endured. There was a vast universe waiting to be explored, filled with endless possibilities and untapped knowledge.
As Senku continued to share his insights, Kohaku's thirst for understanding grew. She absorbed every word; her curiosity fueling a desire to learn and contribute to the world in her own unique way.
In Senku's teachings, Kohaku found solace and inspiration. Through the lens of science, she saw hope for a brighter future, a world where the scars of war could be healed, and where the pursuit of knowledge and discovery could lead to progress and peace.
In the midst of her harrowing journey, Kohaku's mind occasionally drifted to memories of her sister, who might have believed she was already lost forever in the chaos, knowing Hiroshima was almost erased from existence.
A glimmer of realization flickered within her, when she remembered that her sister might still be alive, she left home after getting married two years ago and was now residing in Osaka with her husband.
The revelation surged through her like an electric current, reigniting a dormant flame of hope. She implored Senku, with a fervor that bordered on desperation, to help her document her experiences in a memoir—her testament to a life forged from the ashes.
And so, with trembling hands, Kohaku recounted her story to Senku. Every agonizing detail, every heart-wrenching loss, and every fleeting moment of unexpected grace spilled from her lips. Senku's pen danced across the pages, etching her words onto the paper as if capturing the very essence of her existence.
It was a memoir of survival, the unyielding resilience of the human spirit—a testimony to the enduring power of hope in the face of unimaginable tragedy.
Senku meticulously transcribed her memories. In the quiet moments between recounting her journey, transcending the bleak reality that now surrounded her.
The room was bathed in a soft, dim light as Senku sat by Kohaku's bedside. Her once vibrant and spirited eyes now held a gentle, weary gaze. Her delicate frame bore the burden of the radiation-related illness, and Senku could sense the heavy weight of grief descending upon him.
"Kohaku," Senku whispered, "I wish I could take away your pain."
"Don't beat yourself up, Senku. I've long expected this." She showed him a smile to ease the pain but to him it only made him worse, "Thank you for everything. For being the light in my darkest days, for showing me the wonders of the world. I am deeply grateful to have met you, Senku." Kohaku mustered a weak smile, her voice barely above a whisper.
Tears welled up in Senku's eyes as he clasped Kohaku's hand tightly. "Promise me, Senku. Promise me that you will carry on, that you will continue to unravel the mysteries of this world, just as you have done. Tell my sister of my feats, let her know that I fought for a better tomorrow." Kohaku's voice trembled, her breaths becoming shallow.
Senku nodded, his voice choked with emotion, "I promise, Kohaku. I will dedicate my life to the pursuit of knowledge, to honor your memory and the sacrifices you made. Your legacy will live on, and your story will be told."
The room was enveloped in silence as Senku grasped Kohaku's hand, their connection surpassing the need for words. In that serene instant, they sought comfort in one another's company.
As her final moments drew near, Senku leaned in closer, planting a soft kiss on her lips, his voice barely a whisper. "Thank you, Kohaku. Thank you for showing me the beauty of life in these darkest of times. Rest now, my love."
Her skin was growing more pale with every second. Her hand already lost its strength and slid off his hand. The glow in her eyes started disappearing as they started to become dry, but she kept smiling. Time came, she took her last breath, a sense of dread washed over Senku. He wanted to scream, but all that came were a quiet shriek. All he could think of doing was pulling her closer to him again, holding her against his chest as he choked on his tears and looked to the distance with sorrow written all over his face.
He remained by her side for three days until Byakuya told him they needed to bury her. Senku stood lifeless in front of the newly dugged grave of Kohaku, Byakuya just handed him a letter that she told him to give Senku once she's gone.
He stared at the letter, and he was sure he would've cried again but his eyes were too red and too dry to let out anymore tears, so instead he just stood there. Staring blankly at her grave—as if hoping that it wasn't happening. That it was all a hallucination because of how tired he was.
He would do anything if it meant that this girl wouldn't have to end up dying, if it meant saving her from her dreadful fate. But the disaster happened… and there was no taking it back.
Gathering up all his resolve he tore open the envelope and began reading her first and last letter for him.
Senku,
My love I made this letter knowing all too well that I don't have long left, and I might regret in the afterlife not saying all these words to you. I hope you won't have to see this, but I've made my resolve to not see you suffer more before I die and gave it to your father instead of giving it to you, if you are ever reading this right now, I just hope you are not reading it with a heavy heart.
Easy to say, right? Because I am the one feeling it.
Senku, I know it hurts, and it will continue to hurt… but I know the pain will not stay forever. You can be mad at me, curse me, and hate me for leaving you too soon… but we would be lying if we say that we never expected this to happen. I know you did, and… I did too. The aftermath of that harsh disaster that befallen our country five months ago really took a toll on my body. I know you want to see me alive nd healthy but knowing we are in the scarce era of a war-torn Japan and knowing there is nothing you could do to stop this…is heartbreaking.. because… this is reality.
I cannot escape it, Senku. There will be times when I will think to myself if it is worth my life to experience that… but thinking of the victims who strive to survive, hearing them, seeing them, makes me want to continue. I cannot give up just because I fear for my life… knowing all too well there are others who strives to survive no matter how bleak the situation is.
These past five months, I can truly say I am happy being with you, Senku. Truly happy. I make sure to do the things I needed to do to aid our deeply scarred and wounded body and soul countrymen in the best way I could. There is nothing left to do but to finish the fight I had with death. I know how much it hurts…I am hurt too while writing this letter, physically because my hands are going numb and hurting as my brush stroke every word to convey everything I wanted to say. Most of all, I am hurting while writing this letter because I know, deep inside, that I still want to spend more time with you.
Remember the time I spoke to you about death? I kept on telling you I was not scared of death… but on the inside I hoped that I wouldn't have to face it eventually. But after witnessing how my father committed seppuku(suicide) when he heard about the grotesque way my mother died. I wish it would not come sooner and even dread the day that I would be next. There are probably a lot of things I could have done differently to prevent this from happening, that you wouldn't met me like this– a scarred version of me that neither beautiful nor ugly just scarred, but in the end, I still couldn't. I couldn't escape my fate.
Our country is still in ruins… but we strived to move forward. We started somewhere but there should be no more lives to spare. There should be no more war like this. This is the country we want to live in… where people would just enjoy going to festivals instead of being blasts into oblivion. Where people like me do not have to end up in a tragedy.
I know everything comes to an end, and it does not have to be a happy ending… but for me, just being able to spend time with you before I left… is already a happy ending for me. The world is not totally cruel to me, because I got to be with you. That is enough.
I do not need pity because things happened. I may not have known what was about to happen that day and still walked down that road. Do I have a choice? Maybe…. But there are people who do not have the luxury to choose if they want to live or not, being blasted into oblivion with no remains left to bury is surely not one of them.
Senku, you can do it right? You will keep on walking. You will continue your journey until you get old and live a fulfilling life, even without me. It hurts now… so feel all the pain and use it as your motivation to move forward. Time…as you said "is commonly treated as a continuous and linear dimension, represented by a real number line" meaning it is moving forward, and is running, right? It does not stop for anyone…. But it did stop for me.
No, cross that out. It did not stop for me. It was put to a halt… because I believe this is not over yet. We are not over yet. We are going to meet again, in a different universe, at a different point in time, with different versions of ourselves. I will find you… or you will find me.
I love you. I will always love you beyond forever, beyond time. I will love you even in the afterlife.
I hope you start living your life without sorrows, pain and regrets. I hope for you to live a life you can be proud of… because you know you did what you wanted to do.
Like me. Though how tragic and brutal. I am still proud of the life I lived… because I fought well.
This is not the end. This is a pause for us.
I'll see you in yesterday,
Kohaku
With trembling hands after reading the entirety of her letter. He vowed to be a guardian of her memory, vowing to carry on her legacy and ensure that her story would be etched in the annals of history.
Senku parked his car on the side of the road, a cloud of dust settling as he turned off the engine. He stepped out, his eyes fixed upon the house that stood before him, nestled near a vast cornfield.
The gloomy midday sky cast a somber aura, adding an eerie touch to the scene. The house, reminiscent of a Showa-era style, stood proudly, its wooden beams and tiled roof showcasing years of weathering. Its walls, a faded shade of gray, bore witness to the passage of time. The windows, adorned with delicate paper screens, whispered secrets from the past. A small porch adorned the entrance, its wooden steps creaking under Senku's weight as he approached.
A sense of nostalgia filled the air as he clutched the letter in his hands, a missive from a departed soul. He stood there, gazing at the house, knowing that within its walls lay answers and revelations waiting to be discovered.
Senku's knuckles rapped gently against the wooden door, echoing through the silent air. The sound drew the attention of a man with brown hair, wearing a yukata. As the door swung open, the man's wide eyes took in Senku's attire—a stark contrast to his own traditional garb. Without hesitation, Senku introduced himself, "I'm Senku Ishigami. I'm looking for Ruri and I've come here to deliver a letter."
The man in the yukata, known as Chrome, returned the introduction with a polite bow. Despite his youthful appearance, his eyes held a wisdom that seemed to surpass his years. Lines etched across his face revealed the toll of hardships endured in war-torn Japan. Chrome's worn-out countenance was a testament to the harsh realities he had faced.
He exuded a sense of maturity, tempered by the experiences that had shaped him. In contrast, Senku carried an air of sophistication, reflecting his profession as a doctor amidst the chaos of war.
Chrome graciously invited Senku inside his humble abode, where a woman of younger age, resembling his deceased friend, caught Senku's attention. As he clutched the paper tightly in his hand, memories of her untimely demise flooded his mind.
The woman, named Ruri, noticed his presence and immediately reassured him, her voice trembling with emotion. "We're fine. There's no need to trouble yourself, we don't need doctors because we don't have any money to pay you."
Senku, his gaze fixed on Ruri, shook his head gently, "I'm not here as a doctor. I've come simply to deliver a letter from your younger sister, Kohaku."
At the mention of Kohaku's name, Ruri's eyes filled with tears, her sobs shaking her fragile frame. Chrome moved to her side, wrapping his arms around her in a comforting embrace. Senku watched the scene unfold before him, his heart heavy with sympathy for their profound loss.
Once the storm of emotions had calmed, Senku carefully retrieved the letter from his pocket. Its worn pages contained the memoir Kohaku had him written before her passing. With a somber yet determined tone, Senku began to explain its contents.
"Kohaku entrusted me with this memoir, a testament to her life and experiences as a survivor of war. Think of this as an elegy because she…"
Ruri, still wiping away tears, looked at Senku with a mix of gratitude and curiosity. "I expected it, doctor, the moment you mentioned her name. I apologize if I misunderstood your intentions but … Please, read it to us. We want to hear it."
And so, in that humble house, Senku began to read Kohaku's memoir, his voice weaving the words together, breathing life into her memories. Chrome and Ruri listened intently,
"On the 6th of August, 1945, when I was merely 19 years old, in my second year of junior high, the atomic bomb reduced Hiroshima to a ghost of its former self. I had been sent to live with my father and had to commute by train to Toyo Kogyo, on the fringes of Hiroshima City.
This came to pass due to the "building evacuation" policy during the Second World War, a drastic measure that sought to bulldoze vacant houses in city zones to prevent the uncontrollable spread of fires from relentless air raids. Under the stringent directives of the military, my entire class gathered at a predetermined spot in Hiratsuka-cho. It was a dreadful stone's throw away, a bare 1.5 km, from Ground Zero, the Industrial Promotion Center (Atomic Bomb Dome).
An air raid siren wailed as we trekked towards our destination, forcing us to take refuge under the cold, concrete underpass of Hiroshima Station. As the alarm subsided, we hesitantly emerged and resumed our journey.
Then, without warning, an explosive flash of tormenting light knocked me off my feet, and an unbearable heat devoured me as if I was an offering to an infernal deity. Darkness ensued, and my memory faltered. Awakening to a world forever changed, I found my clothes reduced to cinders, my face and hands grotesquely swollen to twice their size, blisters festering on the raw skin.
Chaos reigned. People, consumed by terror, were screaming, running aimlessly in a grotesque dance of survival. Many bore horrific burns mirroring my own; others were soaked in their own blood, glass shards lodged mercilessly in their flesh; countless had lost their hair in the firestorm, rendering their identities ambiguous. As the magnitude of the catastrophic event began to seep into my mind, I stumbled towards Hiroshima Station, encountering the grim tableau of a living nightmare.
People were trapped under piles of debris, crying out in desperation; others were engulfed in roaring fires, their cries piercing the smoky air; injured souls, including wailing children, lay haphazardly along the path. I reached a hill behind the station and sought refuge under a tree, joining a huddle of other injured survivors with no place left to run. As morning transitioned to midday, the sky darkened, and a deluge of thick, poisonous mud began to rain down.
Later, I would learn that the mushroom cloud had drawn up the earth's dust, spewing it back as radioactive rain. With no shelter in sight, I was covered head to toe in the toxic sludge now known as Black Rain. Around noon, we received word of the unthinkable - a new type of bomb had been unleashed, and Hiroshima was obliterated from existence.
As nightfall descended, a kind old man who had shared my tree refuge invited me to his home, a gruelling 4 km away. Eventually, after multiple pauses, I arrived at his dwelling. The journey had revealed an unspeakable vista of charred corpses and bodies strewn about like discarded toys. Two days later, the old man set out on an extraordinary 40 km quest to find my father, armed with the address I provided.
Upon hearing of my plight, my father hurried to retrieve me with his cart. Yet, when he arrived, my grotesque disfigurement prompted him to ask, "Are you really Kohaku?" I confirmed my identity, and despite his shock, he welcomed me home.
It was over three days post-bombing when I reached the safety of my father's house. Had I not been found by that old man; I would have undoubtedly met a grim fate. While I was undergoing my ordeal, my mother had been tasked by the neighborhood association (the 'Tonarigumi') with assisting in the building evacuation near the Industrial Promotion Center. My father, who had been conscripted to work at Toyo Kogyo like me, made haste to the city center to find her. But the landscape was a horrifying sight beyond comprehension.
People were horrifically burnt, their skin swelling grotesquely, resembling hideous caricatures of human beings. Their seared flesh hung off them in grotesque drapes. The stench of death was so potent that we had to dampen towels and cover our noses just to breathe. Amidst a grotesque mound of unrecognizable corpses, the only way my father could identify my mother was by her distinctive gold teeth.
He came back to the old man's house–whom I would later know his name was Byakuya-sama (I stayed with him because my father trusted him enough to look after me while he searches for my mother) three days post-bombing and shared the harrowing tale of his gruesome search, prying open each charred mouth in a futile attempt to find my mother. Yet, when he saw me alive and breathing, tears of joy broke through his grief, but it did not last long because after two months he committed suicide without my knowing.
In the days that followed, we faced a dire predicament. Medical help was a distant dream; there were no doctors, medicines, or treatments to be found. My rudimentary first aid kit was woefully inadequate, housing only antiseptic, bandages, iodine tincture, cotton wool, Seirogan, and burn medicine.
My burns had been left untreated for three days, festering and infected. Applying iodine to them felt like a searing poker was being driven into my wounds, agony radiating from the exposed nerves. By August 15th, Japan had surrendered, and we were left in the ruins of our lives, contemplating our inevitable demise.
A glimmer of hope emerged when I heard about a doctor from another province visiting a nearby primary school, to which he turned out to be Ishigami Senku-san, Byakuya-sama's adopted son. The scene that greeted me was of decay and suffering. The auditorium, classrooms, and corridors were a sea of broken bodies, their wounds infested with writhing maggots. The putrid stench of rot was suffocating, making my stomach churn.
After receiving some medication, I returned home. Miraculously, my wounds began to heal over the months, thanks to Senku's herbal treatments, one of which included a diet of nutrient-rich pumpkin. Yet, the physical scars of that day persisted. I developed keloids, thickened, raised scars that served as a constant reminder of my ordeal, making me reluctant to face the world.
In the wake of the atomic bomb, a dire shortage of food loomed large, and people feel like dominos, succumbing to malnutrition and radiation-induced illnesses.
After receiving some medication, I returned home. Miraculously, my wounds began to heal over the months, thanks to Senku's herbal treatments, one of which included a diet of nutrient-rich pumpkin. Yet, the physical scars of that day continued to persist day by day. I developed keloids, thickened, raised scars that served as a constant reminder of my ordeal, making me reluctant to face the world.
I was motherless and fatherless, as father most likely committed suicide because he has also contacted some kind of radiation related disease, then there's also the problem we had with minimal access to food and medical supplies. Despite the insurmountable challenges, I somehow clung onto life during those harrowing months.
Reflecting on that fateful day, August 6, 1945, I am overwhelmed by a profound sense of dread at the existence of such devastating weapons. My earnest hope is that the world never forgets the horrors of Hiroshima and Nagasaki and strives towards a future where nuclear weapons remain dormant, forever unused."
With a heavy heart, Senku bid farewell to Kohaku's sister, leaving them with the precious memoir that held the essence of her beloved sister.
As he stepped out of their humble abode, tears streamed down his face, blending with the raindrops that had begun to fall from the somber sky. He climbed into his car, the engine's purr the only sound breaking the heavy silence that engulfed him.
Without a destination in mind, Senku found himself driving aimlessly through the misty streets, his mind consumed by memories of Kohaku. Each passing streetlight illuminated his tear-streaked face, a portrait of grief and longing. The weight of loss settled upon his shoulders, threatening to pull him deeper into the abyss of sorrow.
Driven by an inexplicable force, Senku's car navigated winding roads until it came to a halt at the entrance of a serene cemetery. The rain had transformed the landscape into a glistening tapestry, the droplets gently caressing the gravestones that stood as silent sentinels.
He stepped out of the car, his footsteps barely audible amidst the quietude. The mist wrapped around him, shrouding him in a veil of melancholy. Senku's gaze wandered, landing upon the countless white graves, nameless and forgotten by time. He walked amidst them, his footsteps muffled by the wet grass, until he stood before a solitary grave adorned with vibrant yellow flowers.
Time seemed to stand still as Senku stood in front of the grave, his eyes fixated on the delicate petals swaying in the rain-soaked breeze. He never thought he could cry after someone, even when his eyes first bore witness to the countless horrors he had encountered as a doctor on battlefields of war. And yet now he stood there in front of her grave and tears went down his cheeks in never ending streams. He reached out, his trembling hand hovering just inches above the flowers, as if yearning to touch the ephemeral beauty that mirrored his own fleeting existence.
In that sacred moment of silence, Senku found solace amidst the overwhelming grief. His heart whispered unspoken words, a dialogue between the living and the departed, between love and loss. The yellow flowers, symbolic of hope and friendship, whispered their silent support, as if carrying their burdens on their fragile petals.
"I fulfilled my promise to find your sister and gave them your memoir…." His somber gaze seemed to reflect the drops of rain that's flowing on his body, his clothes already damped and his hair already framing his face, but he didn't care.
"I've been an empty shell since you left... but the pain has faded away now... so please don't worry about me. I've been dedicating myself to my research because I know you had faith in me. I'm taking my time, not rushing myself. Lately, I've been exploring various things... And now, in the aftermath of this war, with no more conflict, I can finally say that I am living the life I've always wanted... a world of peace... the life I once dreamt of... So, don't concern yourself with me anymore. I am happy... genuinely happy that no more people will suffer."
Memories of Kohaku flooded his mind. He remembered her words, the doubt in her voice when she spoke of communicating with the departed. Thinking they won't hear a thing because they're already dead. Yet, he couldn't help but hope that somehow, in the vastness of the universe, his words would find their way to her.
"I don't know if you can hear me, this seems illogical for me to do but… I just need to let this one out," Senku whispered, his voice so quiet that even he could hardly hear himself. "I want to believe that you're in a better place now. A place where pain and suffering no longer exist."
He took a deep breath, his words hanging in the air, hoping they would reach the depths of the unknown. "I wanted to protect you, Kohaku. I wanted to ease your pain and offer you a future filled with happiness. But fate had other plans, and I couldn't change the course of your journey. I'm sorry for the times I couldn't do more, for the moments when I felt powerless."
Tears welled up in Senku's eyes, blurring his vision but not dampening his resolve. "I promise you, Kohaku, I will carry your memory with me always. I will continue striving to share my knowledge and make a difference in this world, just as you believe I would do."
He reached out, touching the cold stone of the gravestone, as if seeking a connection, a bridge between the living and the departed. "Rest well, Kohaku. Until we meet again, my friend."
Time slipped away as Senku lingered, his thoughts swirling like the mist around him. And in the depths of his contemplation, he found a semblance of peace. It was a realization that life, like the delicate flowers adorning the grave, was a fragile and fleeting gift. It was a reminder that despite the pain of loss, the beauty of existence persisted, urging him to embrace the moments that remained.
With a heavy sigh, Senku took a step back, his gaze lingering on the grave that held both a precious soul and a piece of his heart. As the rain continued to fall, he retreated, his footsteps carrying him away from the cemetery, but not from the indelible mark left by the life long gone that he had once cherished.
The grand hall in Stockholm was filled with esteemed scientists and dignitaries as anticipation hung in the air. Senku, now a renowned physicist, stood on the stage, his heart a mix of gratitude and melancholy. Ruri and Chrome, his dear friends, sat in the front row, their faces beaming with pride.
The audience erupted in applause as Senku received the prestigious Nobel Prize in Physics for his groundbreaking research on quantum mechanics and the discovery of a planet around a Sun-like star.
Senku received his Nobel trophy and after shaking hands he stood in front of his fellow scientists, basking in the adulation and anticipation of the audience, his gaze swept across the sea of faces before him.
The weight of the Nobel Prize around his hands felt both exhilarating and humbling, reminding him of the immense responsibility he carried.
"Ladies and gentlemen. Today, I stand before you as a humble recipient of the Nobel Prize, a recognition that fills me with immense gratitude and a sense of profound responsibility. It is an honor to be standing here, representing the relentless pursuit of knowledge and the boundless potential of human intellect.
When I embarked on my scientific journey, I never could have imagined that it would lead me to this remarkable stage. From the depths of a war-torn country, we emerged with a vision to rebuild and redefine our understanding of science and technology. Moreover, I stand before you not only as a physicist but as a witness to the strength of the human spirit in the face of unimaginable devastation."
The room fell into a reverent silence, hanging on to Senku's every word. His eyes glimmered with a mix of determination and profound sorrow as he continued, "Five years ago, my beloved country, Japan, experienced a cataclysm that shattered lives, homes, and the very fabric of our society. The atomic bombings unleashed unfathomable destruction, leaving scars that run deep and wounds that may never fully heal."
A collective murmur rippled through the audience, but Senku's voice grew stronger, infused with a resolute resolve, as he continued to pay tribute to the countless lives lost and the countless dreams shattered.
"In the midst of this darkness, amidst the ruins and the tears, I saw the unwavering spirit of our people. I witnessed acts of heroism and sacrifice that defy comprehension. I stood witness to the undying hope that flickers even in the face of despair."
"It might felt improbable as a Japanese citizen that I would stumble upon this groundbreaking revelation. Yet, against all odds, I have ventured into the depths of the cosmos, unraveling the enigmas that define our very existence. It is with great pride that I proclaim this achievement as a testament to the indomitable resilience of humanity."
He paused for a moment, letting the weight of his words sink in, before continuing, "So today, as I receive this prestigious award, I dedicate it not to myself, but to the resilient souls of my fellow countrymen and women. It is a testament to their courage, their tenacity, and their unwavering spirit in the face of adversity."
Silence hung in the air; the audience were gripped by the profound sincerity in Senku's voice. But in his heart, there was an unspoken dedication, a silent vow made to a dear friend whose absence he still deeply felt.
He knew what he would say next would-be words that carried the weight of the memories he held close to his heart. His mind drifted back to the image of Kohaku's scarred face, etched in his memory. He knew that it was her unwavering faith in him that had propelled him forward, even in the face of adversity.
"I also would like to dedicate this honor to a dear friend who showed me the true meaning of resilience and determination. It is for her, and for all those who have faced hardship, that I stand here today. A brave soul who walked this earth with unwavering courage, whose scarred face bore witness to the horrors of that fateful day." Kohaku, your spirit lives on within me. "She has forever changed my life, and I will continue to carry her memory with me as I strive to continue in making a difference for our world."
"Today, as we celebrate the strides we have made, let us not forget the responsibility that comes with this recognition. The Nobel Prize is not merely a symbol of achievement; it is a call to action. It reminds us that our discoveries have the potential to shape the course of humanity and forge a brighter future.
From the pursuit of renewable energy sources to the quest for cures to the most debilitating diseases, we must channel our knowledge and passion towards addressing the pressing challenges of our time. We owe it to ourselves, to future generations, and to the very spirit of scientific inquiry."
A soft sigh escaped Senku's lips, a mixture of grief and determination. "So, I implore you to remember this day not just as a celebration of scientific achievement, but as a reminder for us to continue pushing the boundaries of knowledge, to inspire young minds, and to build a future where the marvels of science are accessible to all. Together, let us unlock the limitless potential of human intellect and create a world that truly thrives on the wonders of discovery. Thank you."
The hall erupted into thunderous applause, tears mingling with smiles on the faces of those who bore witness to Senku's words, applauding not only his scientific achievements but also the humanity and compassion that shone through his words.
In that moment, he felt a profound connection with the audience, as if his dedication had reached not only their ears but their very souls. And as he stepped down from the stage, a sense of purpose enveloped him, knowing that he would continue to honor the legacy of those who had suffered and sacrificed, silently carrying Kohaku's memory with him on his journey to make a better world.
After the ceremony, amidst the jubilation and congratulations, Senku sought a quiet moment of reflection. It's been five years since that day. In fact, he knew it was exactly five years and seventy-seven days and two hours since she gave her last breath.
He should've forgotten by now, but he couldn't so he now found himself standing in front of a familiar grave. The sun cast a gentle glow upon the well-tended cemetery, its rays filtering through the lush greenery that surrounded the hallowed ground.
Senku approached the weathered tombstone adorned with delicate flowers. Time had etched its mark upon the stone, yet its presence remained a testament to the enduring memory of a beloved soul.
He knelt down and once again a rush of emotions swept over him, memories of every time he does his research, he would remind himself of how she loved to marvel at his experiments or how she would always make sure to leave a freshly cooked shoyu ramen for him when he becomes engrossed in his work. And then he would find himself going to this place every year of her death anniversary.
He traced the engraved letters of Kohaku's name with his fingertips, his touch light and reverent. A pang of longing filled his heart, as he wished for the impossible—a chance to see her once more, to share his triumphs and failures, and to seek solace in her presence.
The whispering breeze carried his thoughts, a silent conversation with the departed. "Kohaku," he murmured, his voice a gentle caress against the stillness of the cemetery. "It's been so long… since I last stood here…"
Senku's gaze shifted to the empty space beside the gravestone, his mind conjuring images of the vibrant, spirited and resilient woman he had come to admire. "I've accomplished many things since we last spoke, Kohaku," he continued, his voice filled with a mix of pride and sadness. "The world has recognized my contributions, but deep down, I know that none of it would have been possible without you."
The weight of his accomplishments, once a source of pride, now bore heavily upon him. "I've dedicated my life to unraveling the mysteries of the universe, to understanding the forces that shape our existence, but in the pursuit of knowledge, I often find myself longing…. For you."
"Kohaku, I hope you can hear me. This award is not just for me, but for the unwavering belief you had in me, even until the very end. I hope you are happy and healed wherever you are. You said…. you were ready for it, ready to die… but I am not. If I could, I still wants to spend more time with you… create more memories... But there was a pause in everything. Yes… a pause."
It was just a pause for me too. A temporary halt.
It might seem illogical considering I just received my nobel prize… but I am still hoping to be with you in another life. He smiled to himself… "Indeed, loving you was never wrong…"
A profound stillness settled over the cemetery, as if the very air held its breath in reverence. Senku's eyes glistened with unshed tears, his heart heavy with the weight of his longing.
With a final, lingering touch to the gravestone, he rose to his feet, a mix of determination and bittersweet acceptance in his gaze.
"I will continue to carry your spirit with me, Kohaku," he vowed, his voice filled with quiet resolve. "In every discovery, every breakthrough, I will honor your memory and I will strive to make a world that would have made you proud."
Leaving the cemetery, he carried with him a renewed sense of purpose. Though the years had passed, and the pain of loss had carved its mark upon his soul, he knew that the legacy of their connection would endure. With each step, he continued walking down the road…he lived the life he was proud of. He did what he wanted to do. He explored a lot of things, made a lot of memories. He was happy to live once more.
And after a long life, he finally ended up in paradise…
In a bustling museum in 2230 modern Japan, three individuals, stood before a captivating display. Their eyes were drawn to a large wall adorned with a striking image of a renowned scientist, his piercing gaze seemingly reaching out to the onlookers. Surrounding the picture were words that encapsulated the extraordinary life and accomplishments of the man who had left an indelible mark on the world.
"Senku's life was a multifaceted journey, marked by unwavering determination and remarkable achievements. As a renowned physicist, respected professor, and compassionate doctor, he left an indelible mark on science and medicine. Guiding and inspiring students, his passion ignited a thirst for knowledge. His groundbreaking research revolutionized our understanding of the cosmos. With precision and compassion, he healed the sick. But even as Senku's achievements grew, his focus remained firmly rooted in the betterment of humanity. He never lost sight of the core values that drove him—a thirst for knowledge, a compassionate heart, and an unwavering belief in the power of science to transform lives. Senku's legacy was filled with wisdom and compassion and would endure for generations to come."
"What a remarkable life, isn't it?" remarked the man with his distinct greenish white hair.
The man with brown hair leaned in, his brows furrowing as he attentively absorbed the intricate details before him. "Take note of this, Kotomi," he exclaimed, gesturing towards the text prominently displayed on the wall. "So this is Dr. Senku Ishigami, the brilliant mind who revolutionized our understanding of the universe. It says here that he overcame immense challenges and contributed significantly to scientific breakthroughs."
Kotomi, her eyes fixed on the image, whereas a man beside her with a greenish white hair nodded in awe. "It's incredible to think that someone from our own country achieved such heights of knowledge and innovation. And look at the date, his work spanned several decades, impacting generations to come."
As they delved deeper into the description, their fingers traced the lines that spoke of Dr. Senku's humble origins and his unwavering dedication to his studies. The wall displayed images of his laboratory, filled with intricate instruments and bustling with the energy of scientific inquiry.
"He was quite the visionary, isn't he Seima?," the man with brown hair mused, his voice filled with admiration. "To think that he emerged from a world ravaged by war, only to rise above the ashes and unlock the secrets of the universe. Now that's what you call amazing!"
Kotomi nodded, her gaze lingering on the picture. "Chihiro it also says here, it's not just his scientific achievements. It's his unwavering spirit, the way he believed in the power of knowledge and the pursuit of truth. He truly lived a life dedicated to pushing the boundaries of human understanding."
Kotomi, Seima, and Chihiro stood before the description of Senku's achievements on the museum wall, marveling at the breadth of his accomplishments. As they admired the displays, a thought crossed Kotomi's mind, and she turned to Seima with a quizzical expression.
"Seima," she began, her voice laced with curiosity, "have you ever wondered why Senku remained single throughout his life? With all his accomplishments, you'd think he would have found someone to share it with."
The man pondered the question for a moment, his brows furrowing. "Actually," he replied, "I once stumbled upon an online article that mentioned something about Senku's beloved. It stated that she passed away prematurely, but there were no details about how, when, or even her name. It remains a mystery."
Kotomi's eyes widened, intrigued by the revelation. "A lost love," she whispered, her voice filled with sympathy. "Perhaps that's why Senku chose to dedicate his life to his work, unable to move on from the pain of losing someone dear to him."
Their friend Chihiro, who had been quietly listening, chimed in with a thoughtful expression. "It's possible," he said, his tone tinged with a hint of sadness. "Sometimes, a loss like that can shape a person's entire life. Senku may have poured his heart and soul into his achievements as a way to cope with his grief."
Kotomi continued to gaze at Senku's image on the museum wall, she couldn't help but feel a deep sense of empathy for the brilliant scientist. There's a lingering theory in her head that perhaps behind his incredible mind and extraordinary accomplishments, there lay a hidden sorrow that had shaped his journey.
And so, as Kotomi stood there, surrounded by the echoes of Senku's legacy. Her gaze shifted to her boyfriend, Seima, whose features bore an uncanny resemblance to the great man in the image. Her mind couldn't help but wander to improbable thoughts—was Seima an ancestor of Senku, or maybe even a reincarnation?
She shook her head, dismissing such fanciful notions as she let out a soft chuckle. "What am I thinking?" she mused, glancing back at Seima. "It's just a striking resemblance, nothing more. After all, what would I know?"
Seima noticed Kotomi's distraction and playfully nudged her shoulder. "Hey, what's got you so deep in thought?" he asked, his warm smile bringing her back to the present.
"Oh, nothing really," Kotomi replied, attempting to brush off her musings. "Just my mind wandering, you know."
Seima raised an eyebrow in amusement, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Wandering to any interesting places?" he inquired playfully.
Kotomi shook her head with a laugh, choosing not to mention her fleeting thoughts about his resemblance to the great scientist. "Not really," she replied, leaning into him affectionately. "Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you."
Seima wrapped his arm around Kotomi's shoulders, pulling her close. "And I'm the lucky one," he whispered softly, his voice filled with genuine affection. "To have you by my side, making every moment brighter."
"Hey you two! Our research in history won't finish by itself you know! And here I thought I could rely on you for help, Seima!" a man with brown hair took them out of their stupor.
"Calm down, Chihiro. We're just talking about uhm… our research thats all..."
"As if I would believe that… anyway I'm done taking my notes here let's go..."
Their curiosity piqued, continued their exploration of the museum, their eyes scanning the exhibits until they stumbled upon a display that held a worn, weathered memoir. Its pages, yellowed with age, spoke of a harrowing time in Japan's history—the atomic bombing that had scarred the nation.
Kotomi's eyes widened with both intrigue and trepidation. She delicately reached out and turned the pages, her fingers careful not to damage the fragile paper. The words that unfolded before them painted a haunting picture of the horrors unleashed upon Hiroshima—the blinding light, the destructive force, and the aftermath of unspeakable devastation.
Delving into the harrowing accounts, she was deeply moved by the profound impact of nuclear weapons on humanity.
"You know, this was a fantastic memoir. I believe anyone who jokes about nuclear weapons should read this and fully grasp what horrors these weapons have caused. This provides a firsthand account of the devastating events during that period," Kotomi remarked.
Reading through the passages detailing the chaos and destruction, tears welled in her eyes. "It's unimaginable," she murmured, her voice filled with a mix of sorrow and empathy. "The pain, the suffering, and the profound loss experienced by so many innocent lives."
Chihiro whose been reading beside her, sniffs his nose dry from sobbing a bit after reading the graphic retelling of the horrors the survivor endured, "Kohaku's graphic retelling sure offer a raw glimpse into the dark side of our history, reminding us of the enduring impact of war and the importance of striving for peace."
They continued to read, engrossed in Kohaku's personal account of survival and resilience. Her words told of the strength and courage exhibited by her fellow citizens in the face of unimaginable adversity as well as the capacity for hope through her retelling of the events that occurred on the ashes and ruins of a devastated city.
Silence enveloped Chihiro and Kotomi as they reached the final pages. Kohaku's reflections on the power of unity, forgiveness, and rebuilding resonated deeply within them. Her poignant words served as a reminder that healing, both individually and collectively, was possible even after enduring such unimaginable tragedy.
With heavy hearts, they closed the memoir, their minds and souls forever touched by Kohaku's story. The weight of her experiences remained within them prompting them to reflect in a deafening silence.
Seima grabbed their shoulders, startling them after walking around the nearby hall on animal exhibits, "You two can be so dramatic. While it's true, the devastation and suffering inflicted by such weapons are unimaginable, what's important is that we remember these lessons and strive for a world free from such destruction."
"Yeah right…" Chihiro sniffled between light sobs.
Their conversation took a lighthearted turn when Kotomi pointed out a painting on the ceiling depicting Senku as a war doctor. "Look, Seima," she said playfully, "doesn't he look a lot like you? Same hair and everything!"
Seima chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, come on, Kotomi. Don't tell me those reincarnation light novels are getting to your head?"
Kotomi pouted playfully. "I'm serious! The resemblance is uncanny. Maybe he's your ancestor!"
Amused, they read the description beside the painting, revealing that Senku was a war doctor before becoming a physicist, but details about his appearance were vague, except for having a greenish spiky white hair and red eyes.
Chihiro chuckled, "You never know, Kotomi. It's been a few decades since Dr. Senku's time, and genetics can play fascinating tricks. Perhaps there's some distant connection." He playfully elbowed his friend on the side that earned him a frustrated groan.
However, intrigued by the idea, Seima rolled his eyes at his friends and decided to explore the artifacts section from old Japan. Wandering through the exhibits, his attention was caught by relics and tales of ancient ancestors. He listened as he heard a museum guide explained everything and its history.
After walking around by his lonesome away from the prying incessant teasing of his friends. Seima joined Kotomi again, curious to hear her findings. He was frustrated to hear they're still at that topic that he looks a lot like Dr. Ishigami.
Chihiro explained, "Genetics can mutate in surprising ways over time. Although not directly related, there can be a convergence of features that make someone resemble a long-lost ancestor."
Seima heard to which he just heaved, silently wishing they would just drop the topic and continued their exploration of the museum when he unexpectedly bumped into their friend, Ruriko, Kotomi's older sister. Chihiro seemed excited to share their discoveries, they beckoned her to join them.
"Hey, Ruriko! You won't believe what we've been discussing," Kotomi exclaimed, a spark of enthusiasm in his eyes.
Curious, Ruriko tilted her head and asked, "What's got you both so intrigued?"
"We were reading Kohaku's memoir and stumbled upon a painting of a war doctor named Senku. Seima here bears an uncanny resemblance to him!" Kotomi eagerly chimed in.
Ruriko's eyes widened with curiosity as she examined the picture on her sister's phone of the painting in question. "You know, I can see the resemblance," she admitted with a smile. " So, is he your ancestor or something? Who knows what stories lie within family trees?"
Seima disinterested, rubbed the back of his neck and nonchalantly groaned and said, "Just drop it you guys, please." but his plea fell silent amongst the excitement of his friends particularly his girlfriend, Kotomi.
"It's really fascinating how genetics can cause individuals to resemble their ancestors, even if they're not directly related. It's like a thread connecting us to our past."
Chihiro nodded in agreement. "Our lineage carries so much history and untold tales. It's amazing to think that we might bear physical similarities to those who came before us."
While wandering through the museum, Kotomi, Chihiro and Ruriko, except for Seima who chose to remain silent and just listen, as they delved deeper into conversations about their own family histories. They shared stories of their ancestors, discussing their triumphs, struggles, and the shared values that shaped their lives.
Seima put a hand on his head to push past his greenish white hair with frustration, "All these talks about ancestor this and ancestor that just because of a painting," he sighs, "I still have research to do so please let's just go home Kotomi."
They eventually bid their goodbyes to Chihiro and Ruriko. The setting sun painted the sky in hues of gold and orange as Kotomi and Seima strolled along the familiar path. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of nearby trees, whispering secrets only nature could understand. The setting sun casting a warm glow upon them, Seima spoke out of the blue,
"You know," he began, his voice gentle, "No matter what mysteries lie in the pages of history, some of which are not written, I'm just grateful that we have each other in this moment."
Kotomi's smile radiated as she tousled her blonde hair swept away by the wind. "I couldn't agree more," she responded, and entwined her hand with his "The past may hold its secrets, and though we've left many yesterdays behind, some of which as brutal and grotesque what truly matters is what we share in the present." She leaned in, pressing her lips against his, a gentle affirmation of their shared journey. "There are countless tomorrows waiting for us. Will you walk with me?"
Seima smiled and held Kotomi's hand tighter, "Always."
Tomorrow, today and yesterday. Until the next escape.
i have no idea how i came up with this, i guess i just like to make people suffer... jk... truth is, this is just my attempt at writing one shot since I usually writes a multichapter story and my idea for this is all over the place and writing a tragic story is something I've been avoiding in writing for a long time because I cry write... like a lot (i guess it might be a little weird i cried too when its my fault when i kill a character as a writer, yeah it happens 😔)
i also got the idea while watching that one film about the creator of atomic bomb and boy it got me hooked! so in this case writing this story, the idea i mean gosh i trace it back to like, imagining myself as a kid in the 1940s Japan (its that easy since I basically grew up in that country), while people were at war with one another and civilians thought this is the end of the world and like we are all gonna die in a nuclear Armaggedon... yeah something like that...
I know I've ranted long enough so, if you reach the end and appreciate this, thank you
Feel free to left a a favorite & a comment if you want, it will be much appreciated 😊