《of Nagasaki》 of Nagasaki The girl¡¯s dark hair whipped about in a brief waveofwind despite her best attempts to restrain the locks behind her ears. She stood alone in the grassy field, a large old tree shading her from the glaring sun. A few meters away idled some numberofpeople contrasting her isolation. Closest to herofthe group stood two young men, textbooks and satchels carried with ease whilst she, herself, struggled with gnawing hunger and the weightofa poorly made book bag barely supporting her texts. The combination amplified her impatience as she turned her gaze, mentally willing a blastofsmoke from the roaring engine pipes that would signify the arrivaloftheir perpetually late train. Nothing. In irritation, her hand slapped against her side and a few minutes passed before she sighed and began walking down the sideofthe tracks. The two males left behind glanced at one another upon noticing her exit, exchanging deliberative dialogue until oneofthem groaned in defeat and began jogging after her. He was the one who had just grown into his own with lanky strides, deep-brown hair, and old-style bangs hanging just over his eyes. There was a moment before the girl could hear footsteps, halting in her path to turn and regard her pursuer. Surprise flashed in her eyes ¨C a murky brown she had always found ordinary. He arrived in frontofher, asking a few questions as he caught his breath and invoked a few chipped responses before the girl turned abruptly and continued down the tracks. Burdened by his morals, and at the thoughtofcallous factory men in the area, he followed beside her at a quick, yet relaxed pace. It was the first dayofschool. They were late.
The train headed back to the hillsides was crowded, and few seats remained when the girl from the morning stumbled on board, having embarrassingly chased the steam engine before it granted her respite. The doors had barely closed behind her when the train jolted forward, flinging her with it. Barely managing stability, her fingers clenched an overhead pole, her face red and flustered as she adjusted to the momentumofthe vehicle. She timidly searched for an open seat until she noticed the boy who had walked to school. Lost in the window¡¯s passing sceneryofbustling factories and seaside, the boy was numb to the dull sensation on his shoulder until it intensified, finally drawing his eyes to the girl in the aisle who had been tapping. With an awkward smile across her face, a few words were exchanged before he slid over, transferring his original seat. Settled, she embraced the silence between them as the chatteroftired workers and business people filled the car. She mirrored the young man¡¯s viewofthe landscape, and though he didn¡¯t mind the silent companionship, he ignored the proximityofher unconscious nodding head as they neared their town¡¯s stop. He did look a few moments too long at her softened face before he tapped her shoulder, as she had with him, and woke her to the imageofthe setting sun behind his seemingly burdened expression. The following days cycled in a newfound regularity. In growing heat, both awaited the train. She, beneath the tree, and he, beside his friend. Always too hot, always too late, and - newly - always accompanied by her unrequited but appreciated bodyguard, the girl¡¯s mornings would go like clockwork.In their small and quiet conversations, he¡¯d never pry as to why she was often late, but there would always wait an empty seat for her on the train beside him. And she learned to trust he would wake her when the joltofthe train at its final stop did not. Naturally, over time, a comfort bloomed, while tension in the chatterofthe world around them built. It was all the same until one weekend came.
Her unremarkable eyes hung with hollow exhaustion as the girl walked through the sticky heat. She had lost countofthe miles past, overcast sky unchanging. And there was some time until she finally reached a building. A few hours passed before she withdrew from the center only to discover a downpour. The roads stretched into darkness, flooding under the onslaught, and somewhere in the distance a rag doll drifted through the waters. She hadn¡¯t brought an umbrella. A lock clicked behind her, the facility closed and denying her shelter. Her arms ¨C now soaked, a white slip in hand ¨C folded around her body to retain the remaining warmth beneath her clothing. Consumed by the terroroftraveling alone through the darkened streets, she contemplated her options, feeling more and more vulnerable with each mental journey. She turned to pummel the door in desperation.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. As the realityofthe chill upon her skin sank to her bones, her knocks slowly ceded. When the girl neared her second hour in the storm, she sank down, curling up. And against her better judgement, gave in to her fatigue.
The boy watched as she laid, unconscious, in pilesofsheets upon the floor in the cornerofhis room. Splattersofwater spilled into a pail beside her as his sister angrily wrung a towel and wiped its damp surface across the girl¡¯s blistering forehead. Latching a lockofher long hair behind her ear, his sister dumped the towel in the pail and stood to retrieve fresh water ¨C stomping with aggravation at the extra mouth to feed. In her absence, questions ran through the young man¡¯s mind as he stared at the sickly companion he had come to know, her dark hair streaking his old pillow. His chest wrenched as she winced in pain through the sleeping softness he had become accustomed to seeing. Depleted were the funds their parents had left after their death, thus forcing the boy to search for work at the steel plants as his sister had begged. Andon his way home, he had found the young woman¨C frail and sweltering with fever ¨Con the stepsofthe government office. Rain water fought against his legs as the boy carried her to his sister who was studying to become a war nurse and subsequently struggling to provide for the two. Now, as he regarded the girl¡¯s frailty, he thoughtofthe paper he had found in her hand. Quite familiar with ration slips, it was becoming rare to find anyone in the town who was not under some formofassistance. But as orphans, the government took even less interest in their plight. He empathized with the girl as he watched her,allowing himself to truly acknowledge the frigidityofneglectfor the first time in years, and the emptiness associated with a war for a country that had forgotten them. As the illness consumed her, anger pulsed through his veins. He imagined an empty seat beside him on the train that would be filled by another faceless citizen, another number: a soldier, a nurse, a student. As long as it didn¡¯t affect the food supply, she wouldn¡¯t matter, nor would anyone care. But he would not abandon her. In an instant, he had bolted from the room, returning with oneofhis only pencils and notepads. His handwriting and grammar were horrible, with yearsofschooling repeatedly disrupted by death and war. Yet he could still write what he had long wanted to say. He left the note beside her, pausing to take a long look at the young woman he could not help but care for. He was a blur as he threw on his shoes, and on his rusting old bike he sped away from the shoutsofhis sister in the receding doorway behind him. As the sun began to rise, both the boy¡¯s bike and his faith slowly broke down. The little money he had wouldn¡¯t fix his bike, get him to the medical college, and pay for a doctor. His inadequacies plagued him, with mental imagesofhis parents on the rosterofthe dead blurring into the overwhelming listofnames lost to the war. He could do nothing then and, despite his passion, he could do nothing now. Infuriated and defeated, he slammed his bike to the ground, screaming. The sun was higher in the sky when his head finally cleared. He thoughtofthe girl, and wondered if his sister had managed to get a telegram to anyofthe doctors she knew. But their hands would be full assisting those injured in the bombingsofa nearby town the day before. Beaten,he kicked the broken bike, and turned to begin walking home. The boy could only support her now and hope.
The girl jerked up, confused and weak, woken by the sound of a wail a few kilometers away. A cold, damp washcloth plopped onto her lap. Though it was dim, cracks of sunlight through the windows illuminated a clock ¨C halfway through morning. Re-examining her surroundings, she noticed the note beside her. Thinking it to be the slip from the office she picked it up, briefly scanning its contents before she froze with her heart in her throat. Retracing each sentence, her eyes swept back and forth, eyes prickling over words she had never been given. She removed her hands ¨C now slick ¨C from her eyes, and lightheadedness overcame her as she mustered the strength to stand and leave the room. Shivering with rampant emotion, she called the boy¡¯s name, wandering throughout the three small roomsofthe residence. She discovered a message left for him on the table, his sister having gone to request medicines from a neighbor after her inability to reach a doctor. The girl coughed in the silence, body rife with aches. Disappointment abound, she drifted to the small kitchen window, staring at the perfect summer sky. The girl spent a moment, thoughts tangled in her mind. But as she fought the weakness threatening to overcome her, she noticed something in the distance approaching the small house - It was a figure. Her heart pounded in anticipation. She could not shake herself from the spell pulling her from the room. Terrified he''d disappear, she raced to the door to keep sightofthe visage. And absentmindedly, she stepped on a flyer, too focused to regard its ominous details. As she clutched the door frame, reveling in the fluttering of feelings she''d been afraid to face throughout their summer, there was a brief moment when she thought she caught a glimpseofsomething in the sky. Yet nothing else mattered as she finally confirmed the faceofthe figure who had broken into a jog towards her. The boy. The girl stumbled into a run ¨C pain abandoned ¨C yearning for the familiarity of an embrace she had waited the summer to feel. And her eyes sparkled as his pace quickened to match hers, his lanky strides emboldened by the fact that she was alright. He sped faster to lessen the distance she had to travel to him. And as she came closer, he could hear the words he''d waited a summer to say spilling from him. Overwhelmed by happiness, her body flew into his arms, entranced by the drummingofhis heart. But as his fingers tangled in her dark hair, the world filled withawesome light ¨C as white and blinding as the sun itself. For an instant - Time stopped. The world ignited in flame where they stood, burning heaven and earth away until only shadows remained onscorched dirt under a sickly sky. Through the forsaken firesofa pre-mature autumn, silence followed the extraordinary moment of two beings lost to time, frozen in their embrace. And forgotten in a summerofwar,their ordinary, faceless love was OfNagasaki.