[Short Story] The Classroom on August 16th

August 16th.

A quiet morning, one day past the end of the war.

In the international exchange room of St. Falcio Girls' Academy, Mirai Takase, Sora Umikaze, Shiori Yumeji, Haru Kirishima, and Hibiki Asagiri had gathered.

On the desks were records of August 1945 from the perspectives of various countries and regions, including not only Japan, but also Korea, China, Hong Kong, and the United Kingdom.

Today's theme was,

"What kind of day was August 15th for whom?"

.

Haru stared at a photograph.

The streets of Seoul.

Young people were raising their hands and shouting for Korean independence.

"In Japan, it's the 'day the war ended,' but..."

Haru said.

"In Korea, it's also Liberation Day."

Mirai nodded.

"Because Japan lost, there were people who were liberated from colonial rule."

"So, even though it's the same August 15th, the scenery being seen is completely different."

Shiori was reading a record from Shanghai, China.

It was written there that people who learned of Japan's defeat cheered in the streets and raised toasts.

"We learn that 'many Japanese were also victims of the war.'"

"That is important."

"But, if that's all..."

Shiori searched for the right words.

"It means that what Japan did in other countries will disappear, doesn't it?"

Sora continued quietly.

"Even in Okinawa, people often say that just talking about the damage from the war isn't enough."

"The fact that Japan committed aggression and colonial rule in Asia."

"Unless you look at both, you can't understand the war as a whole."

Hibiki stood by the window and read the document aloud.

"'We must work hard to restore what has been lost and establish peace'...."

After finishing reading, he thought for a moment.

"Peace isn't something that is completed the moment a war ends."

Mirai replied.

"That's right."

"Facing the responsibility for starting the war."

"Facing those we have hurt."

"Creating systems to ensure the same thing never happens again."

"I think the postwar period only begins once we have done all that."

That afternoon, the five of them were shown old newspaper materials prepared by their social studies teacher.

August 1945.

Articles from within Japan.

An article about the Korean Peninsula.

An article about China.

An article about Hong Kong.

Even though it is the same date, the words are different.

"The war has ended."

"Japan has surrendered."

"We have been liberated."

"The path to independence has opened."

When lined up one by one, it was as if multiple stories existed at the same time.

Haru murmurs.

"History shouldn't be viewed from the perspective of just one country, should it?"

Shiori nods.

"It's the same as how the way a story is perceived changes depending on who the protagonist is."

"But in the case of history, I don't think we should make just one of them the true story."

Hibiki stopped in front of one passage.

A call directed at the people of Japan from a public assembly held in Hong Kong after the war.

It was a message about acting together to ensure militarism is not revived.

Hibiki read that passage over and over again.

"It's strange, isn't it?"

"What is?"

Sora asks.

"People who suffered under the Japanese military occupation are calling out to ordinary Japanese people, saying, 'Let's oppose militarism together.'"

Mirai answers quietly.

"I think they didn't see the government and the people as the same thing."

"Holding an invading nation accountable is different from making the Japanese people themselves the enemy."

"That is why they called for building the future together."

Haru felt a little relieved by those words.

Facing the responsibility for past aggression is not about continuing to blame ourselves.

Rather, it might be about joining hands with people from other countries to ensure we do not repeat the same mistakes.

Evening.

The five of them decided to create a new corner for the academy's peace exhibition.

The title is,

"Each of Our August 15ths"

Japan.

The Korean Peninsula.

China.

Hong Kong.

Southeast Asia.

The West.

Lining up the records of the same day.

Mirai writes an explanatory text.

"For Japan, the defeat in the war was also a liberation for the countries and regions that had been invaded."

Sora continues.

"Facing not only the damage suffered by one's own country, but also the damage inflicted upon others, is the starting point for peace."

Shiori thinks for a moment, then writes:

"History cannot be read with only one country as the protagonist."

Hibiki adds:

Hibiki adds:

"Reconciliation begins with listening to each other's different memories."

he adds.

Finally, Haru picks up the pen.

After staring at the white panel for a while, he writes slowly.

"Acknowledging the past does not mean losing the future. It is precisely because we face the past squarely that we can choose a future where we do not repeat the same mistakes."

By the time the exhibit is finished, it is dusk outside the window.

In the schoolyard, students who have finished their summer club activities are starting to head home.

Laughter.

Bicycle bells.

The sound of a train heard from afar.

An ordinary, everyday life.

Sora says.

"August 15th isn't just the day the war ended."

"It might be the day we started thinking about how to live from here on out."

"And not just for Japan."

Mirai continues.

"For the people of Asia, too."

"And for people all over the world."

Hibiki stared at the display panel.

"Then, what about August 16th?"

Haru smiles a little.

"The day we start a promise."

"A promise?"

"Yeah."

"The day we decide not to forget what happened until yesterday, and to make sure we don't repeat the same things starting today."

The five of them walked out of the academy gate.

The sunset sky stretches on forever, connected everywhere.

Cross the sea, and there is Korea.

And beyond that, China.

Hong Kong.

Southeast Asia.

There, too, just the same, there are families, schools, jobs, and people wishing for a future.

War pushes each individual into the broad category of an "enemy nation."

And it makes the human face invisible.

That is why learning history must mean recalling those faces once again.

Who was hurt?

Who took away?

Who resisted?

And who reached out their hand toward the future?

As she walked, Haru remembered the "baton of peace" she had received yesterday.

Inheriting the baton does not mean remembering only Japan's suffering.

It means listening to the memories of those whom Japan harmed as well.

It means not glorifying the past and never repeating the same mistakes.

And it means building peace together with those who were once considered enemies.

Perhaps that is the true meaning of a "vow of non-aggression."

Under the evening sky of August 16th.

The girls of the Poetry Performance Squad quietly took a step forward to walk into the future together with people who hold different memories of history.