Translator: The Clown
Fire pouring from the sky like rain… that’s the first scene I remember.
My mother’s hand, that I held so dearly, seemed far too light.
I was afraid to look above it.
The napalm bursting in the air turns my surroundings into a sea of flames.
Should I run someplace?
Everything is covered in fire…
Izawa Shizue was slowly drowning in despair.
And then, she felt she was bathed in strong light…
Ah… so this is where I die…
She was just a young girl, but that much she could understand.
She was four at the time.
With no relatives, she lived alone with her mother.
Her father was drafted, and his face she could not recall.
She felt neither blessed nor unfortunate. That being the norm, she could do naught but accept.
“Do you wish to live? If you desire life, answer my call!”