Shadows of Nagasaki

The long, boring summer days stretched endlessly, each one blending into the next like the slow, languid waves kissing the beach shore. The heat in Tokyo was oppressive, a heavy blanket that smothered the city and its inhabitants. Keiko, ever resourceful, had fashioned paper fans for her three younger sisters. Their laughter and chatter filled the small, cozy home, a lively contrast to the muffled murmurs drifting from the kitchen. There, their mother sat, a newspaper clutched tightly in one hand and the corded telephone pressed to her ear, her voice low and urgent.

"Girls, we are going to visit your grandparents for a few days. Pack light and don’t forget your swimsuits," their mother announced with distant eyes. The younger sisters erupted in excitement, dreaming of the ocean and the freedom it promised. Keiko, however, had her own secret plans. Her heart raced at the thought of seeing Haruki again, the boy she liked. Her first love. She had been writing to him for months, ever since he transferred to another school. Their letters were filled with innocent dreams and unspoken longing. This trip to Nagasaki was her chance to see him and finally bridge the gap between their words and their hearts.

The train ride south was a blur of green fields and fleeting glimpses of a world at war. Keiko caught sight of a military convoy on the road beside the tracks, a stark reminder of the reality they were living in. She turned away, focusing instead on the rhythmic clatter of the train and the warmth of her sisters’ laughter.

Nagasaki, when they arrived, was a welcome relief—cooler, quieter, and filled with the scent of salt and pine. Their grandparents’ house, perched on a hillside overlooking the bay, felt like a sanctuary. The younger sisters wasted no time, racing downhill toward the beach with their swimsuits in hand. Keiko lingered behind, her heart pounding as she made her way to the town square.

There, under the shade of a towering camphor tree, stood Haruki. He looked nervous, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. His eyes softened when he saw her.

"You are here," he said, his voice unsteady but filled with relief.

Keiko showed a timid smile, then tucked a stray hair behind her ear, her fingers trembling slightly. The weight of the moment was almost too much to bear, but she forced herself to meet his gaze. They walked through the narrow streets, passing vendors selling sweet bean cakes and cold barley tea, children chasing dragonflies with nets, and the familiar sights of everyday life in the city.

Their conversation was light, innocent, and youthful. When they reached the hilltop shrine, Haruki stopped and his expression hardened.

"Keiko," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "I..."

She didn’t let him finish. The sun was dipping low, casting a golden glow over the bay, and the scent of the sea filled the air. In that moment, everything else faded away. Keiko leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a kiss that was soft, uncertain, and achingly brief. When they pulled apart, she searched his face, memorizing the curve of his jaw and the way his dark eyes seemed to hold the entire world.

Keiko's diary entry

August 8th, 1945

Today feels like a dream. I can still feel the warmth of Haruki’s hand in mine, the way his voice softened when he said my name. We met under the camphor tree in the square, just as I asked him. He looked so nervous, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, but when he smiled at me, it was like the sun breaking through the clouds.

We walked through the town, talking about everything and nothing. The war feels so far away here, even though I know it isn’t. I saw the way his eyes darkened when we passed a group of soldiers, but he didn’t say anything. Neither did I. I didn’t want to ruin the moment. When we reached the shrine, I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. He started to say something, but I couldn’t wait. I kissed him. It was quick, and maybe a little clumsy, but it was perfect. His lips were so soft, and for a moment, the world stopped. I could hear the waves crashing below us, the wind rustling through the trees, and I thought, this is what it means to be alive. I hope we’ll have more days like this, more moments where the world feels quiet and safe.

Haruki's diary entry

August 8th, 1945

I don’t know how to write this. My hands are still shaking. I saw her today. Keiko. She’s even more beautiful than I remembered. She was wearing a light blue dress, and her shiny hair was tied back with a ribbon. When she smiled at me, I forgot how to breathe. We walked through the town, talking about everything; school, books, her sisters. She laughed at something I said, and it was the best sound I’ve ever heard. When we reached the shrine, I tried to tell her how I felt. I wanted to say something meaningful, something that would make her understand how much she means to me. But before I could find the words, she kissed me. I was so surprised I almost didn’t kiss her back. But then I did, and it was like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I keep thinking about the way she looked at me, like I was someone worth remembering.

The next morning, Keiko awoke to the sound of cicadas and the distant hum of a plane overhead. She stretched lazily, the memory of Haruki’s smile warming her thoughts. Her grandmother was already in the kitchen, boiling water for tea, while her mother prepared rice balls for the children. The radio murmured in the background, its words fragmented and distant. Keiko caught snippets—war, soldiers, America—but none of it seemed urgent.

"Keiko, help me with this," her mother called, breaking her reverie. Keiko moved to the table and began rolling the warm rice in her palms, shaping it carefully. She wondered if Haruki was awake yet and if he was thinking about her, too.

Then, without warning, the world turned white. A blinding, searing light filled the room, followed by a heat so intense it felt like the sun had fallen from the sky. The force of the explosion tore through the house, shattering windows and scattering debris. Keiko was thrown to the ground, her ears ringing, her vision blurred. She tried to call out, but her voice was swallowed by the chaos. When the dust settled, there was only silence.

Keiko never felt the impact. One moment, she was there, thinking about Haruki’s smile, the salty breeze, the way her sisters had splashed in the water. The next, everything was gone.