Submitted to: Contest #293

Left Behind in Fukushima

Written in response to: "Center your story around someone who realizes they’ve left something behind."

Drama East Asian Fiction

I’m sitting on a coach bus at 7 a.m., staring out the window, scanning the streets for tourists. This isn’t where I thought I’d be. Not after graduating with a Master’s in International Relations, fluent in two languages, and ready to take on the world. But here I am.

Outside, the street is quiet. I spot him—our last passenger, a foreigner in a blue T-shirt and shorts, looking as if he’s searching for something. I jump out of the bus, waving him over, holding my clipboard. It’s my way of taking control. A trick I learned from my manager.

He approaches with a bounce in his step, his enthusiasm almost too much for this early hour. “The bus to Tohoku, right? I saw the Misano Line sign.”

“Yes,” I say, forcing a smile. “And you are?”

He grins. “Just someone looking for adventure.”

“Miles, by any chance?”

“Yep, Miles, Miles Webb. Sorry I’m late. I hope you weren’t going to leave without me?”

“No, of course not.” 

We were going to leave in another two minutes. Company policy.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“My name?” 

“Yes. What’s your name?” he asks, chuckling.

“I’m Yuki.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

“Five months,” I say, acting disinterested. I glance at my clipboard, hoping he’ll get the hint.

“Do you like your job?”

“Yes. And you’re in Seat 12B.” 

He looks at me as if he has something else to say, but finally steps into the bus. I exhale. I don’t know why Americans feel it necessary to engage in pointless chit-chat with people they don’t know. 

The bus rumbles to life, the engine groaning as its heavy weight swings northward. The office towers of Tokyo are soon rushing past the window.

I pick up my microphone. “Welcome to the Misano Line’s Tohoku Tsunami Tour. There are 17 people joining our tour. Over the next two days, we’ll visit eight important sites in Fukushima, Miyagi and Iwate prefectures. Our first stop is in three hours. Enjoy the ride. If you need to use the restroom, it’s at the back of the bus.”

The guests nod politely, except Miles, who rolls his head.

With nothing to do for the next few hours, I happily sit back in my seat and pull out the book I’m reading: 3.11 Stories.

“When word of the tsunami arrived, students at Okawa Elementary School began to desperately ask to climb the nearby hill. Their teachers insisted they stay on the school grounds and wait for the principal’s decision, unfortunately the tsunami soon overwhelmed them…”

My mother called it heroic how those teachers stayed with their students instead of returning home to their own families. 11 teachers and 73 students died. One of the great tragedies of the tsunami.

“Excuse me!” Miles is standing out of his seat.

“Please stay in your seat while the bus is in motion,” I say, my tone firm.

He ignores me, gripping the tops of the seat backs, he makes his way to the front. “I don’t like that guy,” he points back toward his seat. “The one in 12A. I’m sitting over there instead.” He gestures to an empty row in the front.

“Changing seats isn’t allowed.” 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, and plops down in the empty row, backpack clutched tightly to his chest.

I sigh, and glance back. The man he was next to, Greg, meets my gaze and shrugs. I recite the mantra I was taught: Keep everyone together. Stay on schedule. The only things that matter.

On the drive, most of the passengers go quiet, staring blankly at the endless rolling hills, wooden houses, and brightly lit convenience stores that go past.

Three hours later, as we approach Fukushima, electronic displays of real time radiation levels begin to appear next to the highway. I pick up the microphone.

“Radiation levels in Fukushima are 0.35 micro-sieverts. Staying here for a week is the equivalent of getting a tenth of a chest X-ray. There are still 28,000 evacuees, mostly from the exclusion zone who—”

“—Excuse me.” Miles raises his hand. 

“Yes?”

“Can we do a pit stop, preferably not in a radioactive zone, I can’t use that toilet back there.” 

“We can’t stop just for you!” someone blurts out. I see it’s Greg in seat 12A.

“Easy there, buddy.” Miles says, then shuffles past me toward the bus driver and points toward a Circle K store. Soon the bus is pulling into a stop and he rushes out.

“I can’t believe this,” Greg mumbles.

In a flash, Miles is jogging back to the bus. “Mission accomplished. You’re welcome everybody.”

Moving again, the group grows quiet. The reality of the disaster is around us, in the empty buildings and unmaintained plots. I point out to a hilltop dotted with solar panels. “They’ve been rebuilding,” I say. “It’s slow, but it’s happening.”

We arrive and pull over at the Fukushima Observation Deck, just outside the exclusion zone. In the distance, the familiar rectangular silhouette of the Dai-Ichi nuclear plant juts into the sky. It feels surreal. The group scatters—some head for the vending machines, others wander toward the observation deck. Miles stays behind, sitting alone on the bus, his gaze fixed on something.

I climb back onboard, pretending to check my clipboard. 

“Everything okay?” I ask, keeping my tone light.

“Yeah,” he replies, “I’m just thinking.”

“About?” 

“Nothing,” he says, offering a faint smile. “But thank you for asking.”

That afternoon, we make two more stops in Fukushima to observe the lingering effects of the radiation and the evacuation. I tell the guests how animals died here after no one was left to care for them. 

After an afternoon of sightseeing, by 7 p.m., we’re seated at Umi no Kagayaki, a local seafood restaurant. The mood lightens as plates of grilled fish, tempura, and steaming bowls of miso soup are handed out at the table. Overseas tourists are often surprised to learn most seafood in Japan is eaten cooked, not raw.

Stuffing fried shrimps into his mouth, Miles launches into a monologue about American politics. I hear something about Trump. It doesn’t take long for Greg to chime in, and counter Miles’ points. The tension between them is palpable.

I make up an excuse to squeeze between them. “Have you tried the squid yet?” I ask, pushing a plate toward Greg. “It’s amazing.”

The conversation shifts to Japanese food, and the tension eases.

Miles is about to order another Asahi Draft, his third, when I step in. “It’s time to go,” I say, looking at the time. “We need to check-in to the Asanoya Inn.”

“You’re no fun,” he says.

I ignore him, and soon with the others we grab our belongings, and get back into the bus, with Miles reluctantly following.

Ten minutes into the drive, Miles stands up. “We need to go back. I left something,” he says, his tone urgent.

I turn in my seat. “What is it? What did you forget?”

He hesitates. “I can’t say. We just need to go back.”

Greg grunts. “Tell me, we’re not going back! We have a schedule.”

“Please,” Miles looks at me, his eyes pleading. “Just go back.”

Out of idea, I tell our drive to do a U-turn, and an eternity later, we arrive back at Umi no Kagayaki. Miles rushed toward the door.

“I’ve got to see this,” Greg says, then gets out to follow Miles into the restaurant.

Not knowing what to do, I follow Greg following Miles. Before we reach the door, Miles returns holding a small Tokyu shopping bag.

“We went back just for that?” Greg grunts.

Miles whirls around, his face flushed. “Fuck you!” he snaps.

“Your shopping?” Greg asks derisively.

“This,” he says, “is my girlfriend’s ashes.” His face flushes.

I usually steer clear of emotional outbursts and conflict. But this time, I step forward, placing a hand on Greg’s shoulder and gently pulling him back. “Enough,” I whisper. He shoots me a look but relents, turning away with a resigned shrug.

Back on the bus, after we depart, I take a seat next to Miles. Eventually, he starts to open up. He tells me about his plan—how he’s carrying his girlfriend’s ashes to her hometown in Iwate Prefecture to release them into the ocean.

“To Iwate?” I ask, trying to piece it all together.

He nods, his gaze fixed on the package in his hands. “I don’t know if it’s the right thing. She never really lived there. Her family moved to America when she was a kid. I just thought… it’s where she belonged.”

I don’t know how to respond, so I stay quiet. Sometimes, silence is the best response.

The next morning, to my surprise, Miles shows up on time, smiling politely at all of us. We make our way to the remains of Okawa Elementary School. The thought of children losing their lives is too much. I try to think of other things to take my mind off of it while I go through the motions. Honestly, I don’t know why people would want to go on a tour like this one.

As we gather on the bus, getting ready to leave, Miles stands up from his seat.

Again. I brace myself for whatever is coming next.

“I have something to say.” He gets everyone’s attention. “I’ve changed my mind. My girlfriend never lived in Iwate. I want to do this,” he gestures toward her ashes, “release her ashes with all of you today.” 

Sheepishly, he looks toward Greg.

Greg nods. “I get it. You’re doing something important, for you.” Another guest nods, and soon all the others follow suit.

Sometimes schedules are made to be broken, is something my dad might have said.

I speak to the driver, and we take a detour to Sohama Beach. 

We shuffle out of the bus onto the narrow beach. Clouds hang low over the bay. Across a narrow causeway, the Arashima Shrine hovers in the mist on the top of an islet. We walk there to a red tori gate, built next to the remnants of the one destroyed in the tsunami.  

Miles steps forward, a small urn cradled in his hands. He pauses at the water’s edge, shoulders trembling. I move to stand beside him, placing a hand on his back. Greg takes the other. One by one, the group gathers around him, forming a semicircle.

Miles opens the urn, and the ashes scatter into the ocean, the tide slowly carrying them away. No one speaks, the moment feels too big for words.

Miles stays quiet for the rest of the tour, blending into the background. On the last day, the guests disembark in Tokyo and say their goodbyes. Some exchange hugs. This group has become closer than most.

As the crowd begins to thin, Miles approaches me. There’s a thoughtful look in his eyes. “You handled this trip incredibly well,” he says. “Very professional.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a business card, holding it out. I see the name of a well-known media company. “If you’re ever looking for a new job. I’d be happy to make an introduction.”

I take the card and bow slightly. “Thank you. I will contact you after my contract ends.”

He smiles. “A loyal employee! I love it. Take care,” he says, then turns around and disappears into the afternoon crowd milling in front of Tokyo Station.

I stand there for a moment, watching the busy crowd. Everyone is on a journey.


Posted Mar 13, 2025
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43 likes 36 comments

Marty B
18:04 Mar 21, 2025

The temperature of the passengers anger rose right along with their proximity to the radioactivity. I though that back story added a lot to the drama, as well as Yuki's own story.
Really good one!

Thanks!

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09:55 Mar 25, 2025

Thanks marty!

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Felix Le Chat
17:40 Mar 20, 2025

I liked the Fukushima tour setting. The details really helped us being immersed in the story, and the ashes revelation was moving, especially how it brought the group together! (I was afraid how Greg would react but the subtle nodding was a nice show of characters not being all black and white).

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04:26 Mar 21, 2025

Thanks for reading! I worked for a while to get the right balance on how these antagonist characters might compromise in the end. IRL a lot of times, ppl will just agree to disagree to keep the peace.

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15:45 Mar 20, 2025

I was completely stuck in this story! The turn of Miles from an annoying passenger to a heartfelt man-was amazing! I enjoyed this a lot.

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04:56 Mar 21, 2025

Thanks so much for your nice compliment. Happy I got through how complicated people can be.

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Kate Winchester
12:57 Mar 20, 2025

Wow! The combination of the sad facts about Fukushima and Miles’ antics are juxtaposed really well. I like how both of your characters grew and came to an understanding. You really never know what someone else is going through.

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04:58 Mar 21, 2025

Thanks, that's for sure, never really knowing what people are going through. Happy the character had some growth. I tend to write plot heavy, so try to remember that when the plot moves from a to b, the characters can also have a journey to a new world outlook.

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09:14 Mar 20, 2025

Always enjoy your stories Scott and this is no exception. Lovely character development in the two leads in such a short space of time. Once again your stories make me pine to return to Japan!!

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04:24 Mar 21, 2025

Thx! Yeah I'm happy to have squeezed an actual character arc into this one. Sometimes I focus so much on plot and world building, the character (the most important bit) can feel like an NPC. And we should all write more stories set in japan! its an evergreen unique setting for fiction.

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Jo Freitag
06:39 Mar 20, 2025

I appreciated the way the characters developed and we saw deeper layers. It was indeed a sobering story - very well told.

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05:00 Mar 21, 2025

Thanks so much, fiction is really about characters in any genre. Happy you appreciated it.

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Maisie Sutton
16:59 Mar 19, 2025

What an engaging, thoughtful story. I always enjoy your wonderful scene-setting, makes me feel like I'm there. And such a powerful reminder that even the most obnoxious people deserve our grace, as hard as it is to give sometimes.

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05:05 Mar 21, 2025

Thanks! I feel using really specific places and details can work sometimes to make things feel more real. And you make a good point about how hard obnoxious people can be, I guess they just want to be heard. The movie A Real Pain is so brilliant in portraying this sort of character which kind of inspired me to give it a try.

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Maisie Sutton
14:51 Mar 21, 2025

I'll have to check out that movie, although it sounds like it might be hard to watch, LOL.

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Dennis C
18:27 Mar 18, 2025

I really felt Yuki’s quiet frustration and how Miles shook her out of it—your story captures that push-pull between routine and raw emotion so well.

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05:01 Mar 21, 2025

yuki's frustration is something I had in mind. How university tells us we're preparing for some awesome future to do great things, and then usually we just need to do something tedious for a very long time until we figure things out where we are going by ourselves.

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LeeAnn Hively
00:50 Mar 18, 2025

Both Yuki and Miles evolve naturally through the narrative, with their changes feeling earned rather than forced, and this is a difficult thing to accomplish. I also appreciate the way the conflict builds and resolves organically. It makes it easy to become immersed when the flow is smooth and not stunted. Well done :)

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10:06 Mar 18, 2025

Thanks so much for reading and commenting;)

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Sandra Moody
00:03 Mar 17, 2025

Loved the idea that important things can happen when we're willing to put plans aside. Good work!

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10:00 Mar 18, 2025

Thanks so much for reading and commenting;)

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Helen A Howard
15:32 Mar 16, 2025

The story keeps scratching beneath the surface. At first, Miles was an irritant for the tour guide and this was where his expedience in handling people came in useful, more than a case of him being “no fun.” However, Miles was on a different kind of journey and this was revealed when the coach had to go back and collect his girlfriend’s ashes. There was also the background of the tragedy of war and nuclear fallout.
A lot to this story.

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10:00 Mar 18, 2025

Thanks Helen. We often hear aggressive people usually have something they are dealing with. I wanted to try to write one of those character, and combine it with a lot of things I've read and seen about the tsunami.

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Audrey Elizabeth
12:52 Mar 15, 2025

Felt like I was right there on the tour :)

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09:58 Mar 18, 2025

Thanks, happy to hear the story was engaging.

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Dora Chen
11:34 Mar 15, 2025

This hits hard—what starts as just another tour unravels into something deeper. Grief, unexpected connections, and a reminder that sometimes the most meaningful moments come when plans fall apart. Great story!

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09:58 Mar 18, 2025

Thanks for reading, and so true how unexpected event often bring people together.

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Rebecca Detti
08:43 Mar 15, 2025

I really enjoyed this Scott. It’s funny as my aunt is currently planning a trip to krakow and plans to visit the camps which had created a lot of conversation around ‘why would she want to do that?’ in my family. I see in your comment below you saw A Real Pain. I watched the film recently and your story reminded me of that and how tour guides probably aren’t expecting all of the life issues that comes with a tour.

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09:48 Mar 15, 2025

Thanks for your nice comment! I wanted to try writing something different, and my short story is def a bit of an homage to that film. I also wanted to focus on the tour guide, and my experience learning from my multicultural daughters on how different perspectives can be between people in different cultures. Yeah, these tragedies like the holocaust and the tsunami, are so overwhelming we mostly keep them out of our mind. Personally I'd rather try to respect their memories and not visit such places but its a very ambigious topic I can see.

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Mary Bendickson
05:56 Mar 14, 2025

Perspective.

Thanks for liking 'Love Letters'

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09:57 Mar 18, 2025

Thanks!

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Jack Kimball
16:48 Mar 13, 2025

Hi Scott. The MC is right. Why would anyone go on a tour to see a disaster, unless studying the site to prevent another? Better if they’d left Greg behind.

For some reason, I kept thinking of the novel, On the Beach, by Nevil Shute. The radioactivity I guess, and the idiocy of human nature (A fascinating novel, written in 1957, touted as the saddest and most emotionally affecting novel ever written).

Maybe, “You’re no fun” and not “Your no fun,” he says.?

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01:20 Mar 14, 2025

Thanks for commenting. Yeah I feel people can be so disrespectful sometimes when they are tourists in other countries. Having lived in japan, I could feel like I had everything figured out, and then my half japanese daughters could tell me a perspective that I simply could never have thought of myself. Like not bothering people at shops with chit-chat, which us english speakers love to do and just think as being friendly.
I've never read On The Beach, the synopsis sounds interesting. War is alwasy a possibility. Europeans seems to wipe each other out in a world war every 75 years, say they'll never do it again and then after 3 generations forget that its a bad idea and start waving flags and banners around again. I had thought the southern hemisphere was safe in a nuclear war, but I guess its not. I was most inspired by recently watching A Real Pain, and wanted to try to write that sort of, what I heard described as a "cluster b personality" character. Its a really good film. I had driven through Fukushima about 5 years ago and it was surreal and just more normal than one would have imagined.

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Tommy Goround
15:54 Mar 13, 2025

Yep
1) I never know if Japanese items will translate well. This worked.
2) interesting that miles didn't lose his americanisms while obviously working in Japan.

The contrast of the foreigners, the story insert and ashes all worked.

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04:28 Mar 14, 2025

Thanks, sort of amped up the contrast more than I normally would. The youtube writing video I was watching this week said the most important thing is to make the reader feel some emotion. Good point about #2. Sometimes I need to have things make sense better, I wanted him to have some good quality at the end of the story. Extroverts can be annoying, but at the same time, might be the people who will actually help someone else with something.

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02:30 Mar 14, 2025

Inspired by a road trip I took through Fukushima on the way further north. I didn't stop at any tsunami sites, but there is a lot of information online:

What happened at the Okawa Elementary School:
https://www.theguardian.com/world/2017/aug/24/the-school-beneath-the-wave-the-unimaginable-tragedy-of-japans-tsunami

Local groups do offer tours of the Fukushima nuclear sites:
https://real-fukushima.com/

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