Original subtitles

Over the river again...

Strangling kids with rope is the work of the insane.

It's such a worry.

I hope it's solved before the birth.

So do I.

More rice?

No thanks.

These pickles are a little too salty, no?

Really? I thought they were just right.

It's not just your body now.

Was that a kick?

Not yet. Too early.

Oh, I'll be late.

By the way, my father might come from Fukuoka next week.

What? He'll come here?

To stay with us?

Well, I guess so.

Why this time?

No idea.

He said something about repairing our old family home.

He should know I've a lot on at work.

So please prepare the guest room.

He had to come at such a busy time...

(Get fashion tips from silver-screen stars.)

Oh look, an American friend.

She's hooked another one...

Wearing a gaudy outfit like that.

What's an American?

You don't need to know. Go to school.

Just shut up and get going.

(1982 England)

(UNDER OFFER) (1982 England)

I’ve not seen many pictures of you in Nagasaki.

You look so young.

I found them when I was sorting through some boxes.

I wasn’t intending on putting them out.

It’s weird to think you’re selling this place.

It’s not like you come here very often.

Still, this house is full of memories.

Thanks.

When do you move out?

They were hoping to start renovating next month.

You’ve hardly started packing!

- Will you be ready? - I’ll be fine.

I’m planning on throwing most of it away anyway.

Are you sure you want to sleep in Dad’s study?

You can use your old room if I just tidy it up a bit.

It’s fine. Actually, I’d rather sleep in here.

I need to do some writing… I can’t really relax in that room, anyway.

You don’t like your room any more?

It’s not that. It’s because its opposite Keiko’s room.

Well, it might be the last time you’ll be staying here,

so you can sleep wherever you like.

When we were little, you used to make this for us after every piano recital.

I don’t make as much of it nowadays.

Really?

How's that?

That's good.

It was always Keiko who brought home the trophies.

And you’d sulk and eat all the shepherd’s pie.

There’s something special about your shepherd’s pie.

Surely you can get it in London.

It's not the same.

(Rebuilding NAGASAKI)

(To Etsuko Ogata)

I’ve spoken to the editor.

I told him what you are working on now. He was really enthusiastic.

- Hiroshima’s in the spotlight at the moment. - Nagasaki.

Right, sorry. Of course. Nagasaki.

Look, this could be a big break for you.

He really liked your Greenham common piece.

I think you’re the ideal person to write this, from your personal perspective.

Why don’t you talk to your mum and see what she says?

This is about where you come from. It’s your heritage. Don’t run away from it.

Right. Because I'm the one who doesn't face up things.

Huh?

I mean, have you left your wife yet? Because I’ve dropped out of university.

Look, I never told you to quit university, did I?

And I didn’t tell you to leave your wife. But you said you would.

You know how much I care about you. But

I’ve told you before, it’s not the right time.

And anyway, you need to focus on your career.

So you'll come here this weekend and talk to Mum with me?

I can’t.

You know I have to spend weekends with my daughter.

Despite what you promised?

I guess you didn't mean it after all.

Look. I've got to go. Sorry.

When you've written something send it over.

Doesn't have to be the finished article.

...in road accident in Gloucestershire last October.

Since the decision made by the demonstrators in February of this year,

that the protestors at Greenham common would only involve women,

participant numbers have grown by the day...

and now the U.S. military base is surrounded by more than twenty thousand women.

Whilst the movement began in opposition to the stationing of US nuclear missiles,

there are growing police concerns

that this is becoming an opportunity for further.

Let’s eat then, shall we?

Not for me

That's good.

Itadakimasu

How’s London these days?

Same old same old.

I read that unemployment is still high. You are eating properly, aren’t you?

Just because I’m a lowly writer, doesn't mean I’m starving, Mum.

I read your newspaper piece by the way.

My piece?

You know, that article you wrote about the women...

doing the sit-in at Greenham.

I need more salt.

I can’t believe you saw that.

That was just a piece for the local paper. And it was back in February, wasn’t it?

And?

What?

You did read it?

I wondered what you thought about Greenham.

Greenham is so close. Why didn’t you pop in?

I was just busy doing the interviews and writing them up.

There’s this friend of mine from university who works at publisher.

They’ve asked me to write about my family’s memories of Nagasaki.

But you don’t know anything about Nagasaki.

So it’s a good opportunity to ask you about it…

You never told me why you left.

Who’s going to be interested in reading something like that?

Everyone!

Now is exactly the right time to tell people about it.

Greenham and Nagasaki are completely different.

Sorry. Did I wake you up?

No, it’s not that.

You’re sleeping on the sofa?

I sleep better this way.

I’ve been having a lot of bad dreams recently.

What kind of bad dreams?

Just bad dreams.

- About Keiko? - No.

No.

What, then?

Just bad dreams.

It doesn’t matter what they’re about.

Mum, why did you decide to let go of the house?

It’s too big for one person.

And this way I’ll be able to leave you some money.

I don’t need the money.

It won’t hurt you to have it.

Did you think I’d be there?

At Keiko’s funeral.

No, I didn’t.

I never expected you to come.

Can't even see her face clearly any more.

All I remember is that

whenever I saw her, I always felt miserable.

That’s the only memory I have.

You should understand.

It was hard for Keiko when we arrived here.

Mum,

will you tell me about your lives before, in Nagasaki?

I need to hear about it while we still have this house.

I've been dreaming about a woman I knew

back when I lived in Nagasaki

Her and her young daughter.

Hang on.

Long before I met your father.

I was already pregnant with Keiko

There was a war on in Korea,

so there were still a lot of American soldiers around,

but things were much quieter in Nagasaki by then.

It felt like...

everything was about to change.

(Don't let your child go out alone.)

That cat's dirty.

It's as trashy as your mother.

- Show us! - For an American cat, it's filthy.

Yee-ow!

Run! She bites!

Are you alright?

Don't you go to school?

This cat's gonna have babies.

Oh really?

That's nice.

Want a kitten?

Thanks. I'll think about it.

But I'm sure a nice family will probably adopt them.

A lady I know said she wants one.

Is that so? Where does that lady live?

Over the river.

But, no one lives over the river.

Only trees grow there.

That lady said she'd take me home with her.

Don't touch me!

So... where do you live?

How do you do?

This girl was fighting near the bridge.

Against several boys.

Never seen kids fight?

But given those awful crimes, she should be careful...

How neighborly of you.

She said a lady's taking care of her.

Over the river though...

Don't take her seriously.

We don't know anybody around here.

Mariko made it all up.

When you become a mother, you'll have to get used to it.

I see...

It seems I've been interfering. I'm sorry.

As long as you know.

Where are you from?

Sorry, I live at that housing estate.

I'm Etsuko Ogata.

Etsuko.

Care for tea? Just come inside.

Don't bring that dirty cat in.

Silly girl adopted it herself.

You're from Tokyo?

I noticed your accent.

Yes, but on the outskirts.

You've just moved here?

Hardly. I've been in Nagasaki since before the war.

I lived near Shiroyama.

Shiroyama...?

The bomb blew everything away, so it was tough for a while.

I had to do anything to get by.

You met him then?

Who?

Your friend.

You know...

You've got me all wrong, Etsuko.

I met Frank, my friend as you called him,

interpreting at the base.

Sorry, I meant...

It's fine, I'm used to it.

Frank and I, we're planning to move to America soon.

America?

Yes, America.

Don't tell me you've never heard of it.

What will you... do over there?

What'll I do?

I can do anything in America.

It's true. Especially for us women, it's like heaven.

In America, Mariko can find a proper job one day too.

No... She might even become a movie star.

That sounds wonderful.

That sounds wonderful.

Sounds like you're keeping your distance.

Actually, I'd like to ask a favor.

You see, Etsuko, I'm in need of money.

Well, but...

My savings are only a pittance...

You're a soft touch. I wasn't asking you to lend me money.

I'm just hoping you could help me find work.

Come in.

You surprised me. The guest room's not ready...

Oh no, don't worry about me.

I'll make tea.

Mr. Headmaster, please put your bag down and sit.

Don't call me Mr. Headmaster. I'm just an old retiree now.

I'm sorry. Force of habit.

Even so,

calling you Father-in-Law doesn't feel right.

Then don't. Call me... Mr. Ogata.

Etsuko, don't you teach music anymore?

Not now.

Is that so? I must say, it seems like a waste.

All I can do is play the violin a little.

I only became a teacher thanks to you.

Not true. You were a good teacher. Very good.

We expected you next week.

The week of your class reunion, I said.

My class reunion's next Friday.

You're welcome here anytime,

but I work late for days on end, so I feel bad that I'm not here.

I'm the one who barged his way in. Don't fret about it.

I'll try to take time off.

Yeah, sounds good. But listen, if you've got work, forget me.

No, I should get Sunday off at least.

You caught me at a busy time. I'm sorry.

Are your old teachers invited to the reunion too?

Well... I'm not sure.

Students these days easily forget the people who taught them.

Indeed. You're quite right.

The other day, strangely,

I found a magazine at a library in Fukuoka.

The New Education Digest, I think.

Then I noticed,

your friend, Shigeo Matsuda,\ wrote a piece for it.

Matsuda?

You know, he became a high school teacher.

Oh, right... I remember now.

The thing is, I got a shock. His essay mentioned my name.

I didn't know I was such a famous figure.

In Nagasaki,

people still remember you. So many do.

His essay was quite startling.

If I'm not mistaken, Matsuda alleged

that me getting forced out of school was justified.

That's not all.

He even suggested I should've been purged as soon as the war ended.

Was it truly the Matsuda we knew?

Unmistakably. He teaches at Kuriyama High.

I'll have a word at the reunion.

Sorry, I need to go get some rest.

Or I'll sleep in.

Oh, right. Of course.

Off to bed.

(The New Education Digest: Militarist Education...)

Hey.

This morning,

I think I... felt it moving a little.

Really?

I'm sure it'll be healthy.

Yeah.

But,

that day,

I'm glad you weren't at Shiroyama Primary when the bomb hit.

They say radiation isn't good for unborn children either.

Mr. Ogata, heading out?

My word. Superbly done.

Leftovers alone aren't enough.

To tell the truth,

I was waiting for you to say you'd pack a lunch for me.

Such roundabout ways don't always work, you know.

Lucky you. I'm in a good mood.

That egg dish you made, what's it called?

An omelette.

An omelette. You'll have to teach me how to make it.

Is it difficult?

Very difficult indeed.

Learning it so late in life is probably impossible.

Well, I insist that you teach me.

Wait, what did so late in life mean?

You'll become a chef now?

Actually, lately, I've come to understand the value of cooking.

It's an art.

A rival to painting and poetry. Genuinely artistic.

Once you learn how to make it, you won't think it's an art anymore.

Does Jiro treat you well?

He does.

So, you must be happy.

I couldn't be any happier.

Here you are.

- Sachiko, wash the bowls. - Sure.

Sorry to keep you waiting!

I'm sorry too, for bothering you when you're busy.

Is she doing alright?

Well, she'll be alright.

That reminds me. I was convinced she's from Tokyo,

but she got exposed to the bomb here too.

Did Sachiko tell you herself?

One look at her scars, and you can tell.

I guess she...

...went through hell too.

Oh!

Your cat gave birth safely? That's good news.

Mrs. Fujiwara, the liquor store bill.

Oh, it slipped my mind! They came to collect!

Mariko, come help bring food from out back.

Welcome, Etsuko.

You're working hard. How's the job?

The job? How is it...?

Etsuko, working at an udon noodle shop is so fascinating.

Who knew I'd ever clean tables at a place like this?

What the hell?!

You burned me... Apologize, damn you!

Don't give me that look!

I'm so sorry!

What did Mariko do?!

What did she do?!

That dirty brat slammed my noodles to the ground!

I'm so terribly sorry!

Did you, Mariko?

I'll make you a new bowl now!

Come on! Mariko, bow and be sorry!

I'm truly sorry.

Don't let some dirty brat bring food out.

Damn right.

What if her radiation rubs off on us?

You stuck-up bitch!

I won't serve scum like you.

Hey!

Come back, brat!

Mariko!

- My deepest apologies! - Fuck this!

I ain't ever coming back!

was Sachiko a friend of yours?

I didn't have many friends in the neighbourhood. So...

yes, I was very glad I met her. . .

But I never really understood her.

But it's got something to do with why you left Nagasaki, doesn't it?

They're just dreams.

For some reason after I decided to sell the house

I remembered about Sachiko after all this time

that's all.

...after all this time.

(You think you may be pregnant, but how soon can you be sure?)

- Hi, how are you? - Very good.

Can't you walk a bit slower, Niki?

Why?

Why? Because I want to enjoy the walk.

You grew up here but you don't appreciate the joys of the countryside, do you?

This isn't the countryside. It's just a place where rich people live.

Mrs Sheringham!

I thought it was you. How have you been?

Mrs Waters! It's lovely to see you after so long.

Well hello, Keiko.

Fancy seeing you here!

No, this is my younger daughter, Niki.

I'm sorry. Yes, Niki, of course.

And you're all grown up.

Hello, Mrs Waters.

What are you up to these days?

- Me? I'm in London. - Oh lovely.

And are you keeping up with your music?

No. I haven't touched a piano in a long time.

What a pity. And what do you do inLondon? Are you studying?

I'm not doing anything in particular. I just live there.

You just live there? But you're at university?

- I dropped out. - Oh really.

That's a shame, after all the work you put in.

And how is Keiko? Is she well?

- Oh, Keiko. . . - Keiko lives in Manchester.

Oh, lovely. Manchester's nice too. So I'm told.

Does she still play the piano?

I expect so. But she hasn't written in a while.

Well, no news is good news, as they say.

Look after yourselves.

It must be hard to talk to other people about it.

What happened to Keiko, I mean.

It's easier to say what I said just now.

She didn't even come out of her room for Dad's funeral, did she?

Why are you bringing that up again now?

I'm just saying, that's the kind of relationship we had.

Keiko never tried to be part of our lives, did she?

My life, or Dad's.

You even tried to keep her away from me, didn't you?

I never did that.

I was always left out.

You're just imagining it.

You must have been annoyed with how I spoke to Mrs Waters earlier.

Why would you think that?

Maybe I should have said I'm planning to do postgrad or something.

You can say whatever you like, it doesn't bother me.

Right. It doesn't bother you.

You didn't say anything when I gave up the piano, did you?

Or when I dropped out of university?

I didn't.

I'm not ashamed of you, you know.

But you're not interested in what I'm doing.

It would be better if you were ashamed.

When the neighbours ask about me, do you just fob them off like you did earlier?

Don't be silly.

So what about Keiko?

Why did you lie about her living in Manchester?

Because you couldn't bring yourself to say that she'd hung herself,

all alone up there!

You're ashamed!

(Gone to the cemetery Back this afternoon.)

Hello. I'm from Collins Estate Agents.

Yes?

You weren't expecting me?

No.

The potential buyer has asked for some more photos.

My mother's out at the moment.

I just need a quick look in each room, really.

Okay.

It’s just through here.

Any dogs or cats or anything. . .?

No. No pets.

That's one beautiful garden.

This is what makes the property unique.

The oriental feel is very popular at the moment.

...Have you always lived here?

For as long as I can remember. My father was a journalist in Nagasaki,

my mum spoke a bit of English and...

she was his interpreter for some interviews he did out there.

Then they moved here together.

I see

It was brave of your mum to up sticks and come over to England.

I mean I suppose at that point

a lot of people would still have been

upset with Japan.

I guess that's why they wanted to leave London and build a home here.

- Right. - Happy?

The room at the end of the hallway.

It was locked the first time I came.

They want photos of all the rooms.

Of course, that's fine.

Nothing to hide.

Thank you.

(The Associated Board of the Piano Awarding Body Keiko Sheringham)

Oh, Etsuko. I found this in the closet.

Don't look so worried.

I was careful.

Play something for me.

You play better than me.

Goes without saying.

But now, I barely lay a finger on it.

That's no good. You used to be so devoted.

You'd suddenly start playing late at night, often,

waking everyone up.

Don't you remember?

Waking everyone up?

Did I do that?

A long time ago.

Jiro hadn't come back from the war yet.

Are you sure?

- Late at night, suddenly? - You did.

It was when you'd come to take refuge with us,

and we lived together in our old house.

But you don't have to fret about it. It was no big deal.

Let me think, who was the composer you were obsessed with?

Mendelssohn?

Why didn't you stop me?

It was only for the first few days.

You... must have thought I'd lost my mind.

Of course I didn't.

Well, let's drop that subject. Yes, let's drop it.

What was I like back then?

You were... in deep shock.

That was no surprise.

Everyone who survived was in shock.

Etsuko. Just forget about it.

It's my fault for bringing it up.

Sorry. It was wrong of me.

I should never have touched your violin.

On that day...

...this was all I could save.

But the children...

Don't blame yourself for the children.

- It wasn't your fault! - It was!

It was... my fault!

It was my fault!

It was my fault...

- I'm home. - Hello dear...

Good evening.

Well, come on in!

- It's alright? - It's alright.

- Sorry to intrude! - Hello.

Bring us something.

It's alright, just sit.

Oh, sorry to intrude.

Not at all. Don't worry about it.

- Hey! - Please see who that is.

I'm sorry.

Who are you?

Excuse me. I live nearby. I'm Etsuko's friend...

Coming.

Oh, Sachiko.

Sorry for this, Etsuko.

I thought Mariko might be here.

- Mariko? - You haven't seen her?

No. You can't find her?

What is it?

Don't look so serious.

She's just not at home, that's all. She'll turn up soon.

That's a worry.

Shouldn't you call the police?

No need for that.

But there've been nasty incidents...

It's fine. I'll find her.

I'll look with you.

It's dark outside.

Mariko?

Mariko!

Just in case, we should check the river as well.

The river?

I already looked there.

The other side? Might be there.

She wouldn't go there.

Why are you so sure?

(Keep out)

Mariko?

I need to tell you something.

What?

It's finally set. In a few days, we'll leave for America.

So soon?

Why not ask Why go? Or Who'll you go with?

If you're going, I'm truly happy for you.

I'm not ashamed at all. I have nothing to hide...

Finding Mariko comes first, that's all.

We can talk after that, can't we?

Mariko!

Mariko!

Mariko!

Mariko! Mariko!

You hear me? You're hurt?

Anyhow, fortunately, her injuries aren't serious.

Sorry for all the trouble.

No one came tonight?

No. Who would come?

What about that woman?

Who?

Mariko said a woman kept trying to take her over the river.

Do you still think she just made that up?

Isn't this connected to those abductions?

It's not. What Mariko said isn't possible.

After all, that woman died.

Shiroyama was especially close to ground zero.

You know how horrific it was.

At the war's end, survivors lived in shelters and burned-out buildings.

Debris strewn everywhere.

Everyone who lived there saw hideous things.

I'm sure.

It must have been awful.

That woman, the one that Mariko talks about,

she was someone Mariko saw where we stayed.

She saw all kinds of other gruesome things there too,

but she only keeps remembering the dead woman she saw there.

Did that woman... die of radiation sickness?

She killed herself.

Slit her throat. At least, that's what I heard later.

One morning, Mariko ran outside.

It was early dawn, with no one around.

I chased her into an alley, with a ditch at the end.

That woman was kneeling, holding something underwater.

She was young, and oh so thin.

I immediately sensed something was wrong.

She turned around, and smiled broadly at Mariko.

Then she lifted both of her arms, showing what she'd held in the water.

It was...

...a dead baby.

She'd been holding her baby underwater.

I grabbed Mariko, and ran frantically out of the alley.

From then on, Mariko began to constantly bring up that woman.

Mariko, shouldn't you still be resting?

Where's my mum?

She won't be long. She went to find Frank.

I don't like that guy. I hope he dies.

Naughty. You mustn't talk that way.

You'll go to America soon.

Good for you.

Mariko, don't do that. It's dirty.

I used to have a pet cat.

That cat caught spiders and ate them.

Really? Leave that one alone.

- It's not poisonous... - Stop. Leave it alone.

It's dirty.

If I ate a spider, what'd happen?

Would I get sick?

I don't know, but I doubt it'd be good for you.

Like radiation?

Mariko!

Don't be stupid!

Oh hisse!

Where are you going?

Put it here.

Thank you.

That's a pretty colour.

What do you call this Japanese maple, again?

Momiji.

Maybe...

Don't you think it goes better here?

Look.

Stand here.

It's better.

Is it better?

It's better.

What more can I tell you?

Everything...

I mean, it can't have been easy back then, taking your child and leaving Nagasaki.

Too many women live miserable lives, tied down by children and useless husbands.

But not you. That's why I want you to tell your story.

How many times have I told you already?

But you haven't told me. Not really.

Why did you come here?

Because I met your Dad.

Not true. Dad wouldn't have minded staying in Nagasaki.

It wasn't that simple.

That's what Dad said.

It was for Keiko.

For Keiko?

How?

I thought England was full of possibilities;

and Keiko would have more of a future here.

So what did you think Keiko would be able to do in England?

Do?

Anything. She might even have been a pianist, flying all over the world.

Sounds wonderful.

It really does sound wonderful...

Mum

what about you?

You wanted to leave Nagasaki, to leave Japan, didn't you?

What is it you wanted to be free from, Mum?

Three tickets,

- and binoculars. - Thank you.

Thanks. Enjoy.

Thanks for waiting.

Thanks.

For you.

No, Etsuko...

It's just a toy.

But it might help you see more.

Say thank you, Mariko.

I'm glad the weather cleared up.

So am I.

I hope today'll be a lovely memory of Nagasaki for her.

Where are you from?

I'm from a small town near Boston in Massachusetts

Oh, really? Wasn’t little woman also set in that area?

Yes, as a matter of fact it was!

I'm so jealous. Little Women is my favorite.

What brought you to Japan.

Oh it's the deck.

Isn't it hard for you to stay in this town? I don't see any English signs here.

Your daughter is quite the character.

She's always like that.

Is that safe?

Never seen kids climb trees before?

Is it really safe? A broken branch could be dangerous.

Children are quite aware of that.

Pardon me, are you...

Yes, due in spring.

How wonderful! Will it be your first?

Yes.

Avoid the cold. The risk of miscarrying gets greater.

Avoid Nagasaki vegetables too. Radiation poisoning's scary.

I love music too.

You do?

Akira!

Akira!

I told you! It was too dangerous!

This girl kicked me! She tried to kill me.

She kicked you? This girl kicked you?

She tried to kill me!

This girl kicked you?!

Your son... only slipped. I was watching the whole time.

He wasn't high enough to fall.

She tried to kill me!

You only slipped.

Is that true, Akira?

She tried to kill me!

I was watching the whole time, but she didn't kick him at all.

Anyway, you didn't climb high enough to fall.

You trembled in fear, and slipped. Stop whimpering!

Aren't you ashamed of blaming someone else?

Don't go to the edge, Mariko.

It's almost as if it never happened.

Everywhere I look, it's so full of life.

I mean, looking down over there...

That whole area was devastated by the bomb.

But look at it now.

You're in fine form today, Etsuko.

I'm just so delighted to come here.

Mrs. Fujiwara says, we have to have hope in the future,

and she's so right.

- Sachiko. - What?

I must have said many things you may have found rude.

But I truly believe you'll be fine in America.

Which is why I think you should go.

Mum! Look at those big ships over there.

When I was little, going to America was my dream.

To become a movie star there.

I loved studying English.

My father bought me A Christmas Carol in English.

But I never made it.

My husband forbade me to study.

That was such a waste.

My husband was like that.

But I never even complained.

I knew... it wouldn't do me any good.

Sachiko...

There's something I haven't told you.

The day the bomb hit... you were there too, weren't you?

I can tell.

We have such a lot in common.

We do.

You'll be alright. No need to worry about your child.

Mariko's fine, isn't she?

Hearing that from you is encouraging.

Moreover, Etsuko, don't use your child as an excuse.

We women must open our eyes.

In the war, we went through hell,

but there's still so much hope.

Yes, Etsuko. Hope is...

Hope is all around.

Alright! Well done, well done!

Come and drink!

Come on! I've got plenty of booze!

Etsuko! Eat this.

No, thanks. Keep it for them.

Looks fun, doesn't it?

Beer? Don't be greedy!

Now then, cute miss.

Shut your eyes tight, and think hard about that big bear over there.

I don't want the bear.

No bear?

Oh, my goodness. What would you like, miss?

That yellow box.

This? This yellow wooden box?

You want this?

Well... Alright.

This can be first prize.

Try to hit this.

All yours! Go for it!

Here.

Wish her luck, kids.

She hit it!

Too bad! You nearly did it.

Looked like you hit it. Too bad.

Come again.

Mariko, come now.

I want another try. Just one.

Etsuko has to go home.

Just one.

Great. Great!

Lucky you!

Go!

Aim just a little bit higher.

I won first prize.

You did. You're amazing.

It'll be a great kitten house. Some rags'll make it a home.

Will your cats like it?

Mum, I can put my cats in?

I suppose so...

Let's do that.

Can my cats go to America?

Yes, they can. I doubt Frank would say no.

Then we can all raise them.

Sure we can.

They'll go in here, right Mum?

Sure.

Someone you know?

No. My mistake.

Matches? In here.

Shall we finish this game? We're on our third day.

I could've sworn you won already.

Well, you are backed up into a rather tight spot.

Even so, there's still a way for you to get out.

What's wrong?

Father, I'm sorry.

Mind if we pick this up another time?

Work's thoroughly exhausted me.

Sure, sure. Of course.

Never mind shogi. Your work means a lot to you.

Sorry.

Off to the bathhouse.

Alright. I put a fresh hand towel there.

Still no winner, I see.

I'm sure this looks silly to you.

Jiro's toiling and sweating at work,

yet here I am, my eyes glued to a shogi board.

I must look like a little boy awaiting his daddy's return.

Even after the war ended,

you waited just like that,

for Jiro to return from the front.

Do you think your father is happy with the way we treat him?

I couldn't say.

If you're worried, you could take him somewhere.

I'd prefer not to spend time with him.

When I left for the front...

...he shouted Banzai! so proudly, and I'll never forget that.

(Class Reunion: Unfortunately, I cannot attend. Jiro Ogata)

I hope you can close your deal at last today.

I want my black tie, but you've lost it.

Your black tie? It's with the others.

I looked, but it's not there. Don't mess up my wardrobe.

Your black tie's in there. I ironed it two days ago.

Look. It's here.

Father?

He's still asleep.

Is he planning to stay for good?

Isn't that a bit mean to your father?

You seem to be having a grand old time.

He wants to talk with you so much.

You could at least play shogi with him.

I don't have time for that.

I'm working myself to the bone.

Our baby'll be born soon. I wish you'd act more like a mother.

Act more like a mother how?

By giving up on everything I've done till now?

I won't use our child as an excuse.

Today's an important day for us. Let's hope it goes well.

Well... It's nothing to fuss over.

Where are you off to?

The sights of Nagasaki?

Well, sort of.

I'll join you.

Etsuko, this won't take long. Would you mind waiting here?

Not at all.

It won't take long.

This too.

Oh, Shigeo!

Doing well, Shigeo?

Well well, Mr. Ogata. What a surprise.

How are you, sir?

What unfortunate timing. Lunchtime is almost over.

Still, will you come in for a while?

No no, I mustn't disturb your work.

I just happened to be in the neighborhood.

Is that so?

So, is your mother in good health?

Yes, fortunately. Thank you for asking.

So,

actually, the other day, I read something.

An essay in a magazine. The New Education Digest or something.

Now I get it.

When I read it, I was a little surprised.

No, perhaps I should say I was astonished.

Yes. I'm sure you were.

I was truly surprised, Shigeo.

Shigeo, please tell me honestly.

Why write something like that?

Would you mind explaining?

In the last few years,

every single thing... has changed.

Yes, of course. It absolutely has.

Even I'm aware of that.

Nevertheless,

how does change justify that?

The world may change,

but why does that necessitate what you wrote?

Mr. Ogata.

I most definitely...

...believe in every word I wrote. That remains so to this day.

In your heyday... the children of Japan

were taught to believe appalling lies.

That wasn't education.

It was brainwashing.

That's why Japan rushed headlong towards its worst disaster ever!

Japan...

...lost because of the atomic bomb!

Mr. Ogata.

Please be honest with yourself.

Surely, deep in your heart, you understand what I'm saying.

Mr. Ogata.

This is... a new dawn.

A new dawn?

What on earth are you saying?

Well, I must be going.

Sorry I can't talk more.

Shigeo.

We educators dedicated ourselves to doing all we could.

You've got no idea.

You were only a child back then.

You know nothing of our efforts, and achievements!

I know plenty!

For example,

those five teachers from Nishizaka.

What you call

efforts and achievements caused their imprisonment!

It was April of 1938, wasn't it?

However, those teachers have now been freed.

Those are the people who teach us...

...to believe... in a new dawn.

Wait...

That's strange.

This should be the right platform for Fukuoka.

Sorry. I'll go check.

I'll say this.

Knowing that you're living happily with Jiro

makes me truly happy.

Mr. Ogata, I owe you so much.

Honestly, I didn't know then if you wanted to get married or not.

I was completely clueless.

Those days... and these days are different.

In those days,

I couldn't stand on my own.

We all held each other up,

and made it through somehow, didn't we?

But now,

it's not like those days.

That's why...

...you need to change, Mr. Ogata.

We all need to change.

You're right.

I should at least learn how to make an omelette.

Jiro.

If I'd been exposed to radiation...

What now?

If I had been, you wouldn't have married me?

What difference would it make?

It's ridiculous.

(My apologies for staying so long. Come visit Fukuoka. From Ogata)

Mariko, was someone just here? A woman...

Oh, Etsuko! Why so startled?

Sachiko, was a woman just here? In black mourning clothes...

Black mourning clothes? No, no one was here.

Sachiko, you're packing?

I am. This time, we're really set to move to America.

Not tonight, surely?

We're finally set to go. Can't be slow, or we'll miss out again.

We'll meet Frank in Kobe, then travel to America.

Really?

Even so, you're taking so much.

Will you be in Kobe long?

There's no hope for us in Japan.

But Etsuko, in America, we'll get by.

Smile. Everything's turned out for the best.

Yes, surely it has.

You... think I'm an idiot, don't you?

I know it'll be tough. Even if we do make it to America.

- I didn't mean... - Alright. I know.

But that's fine too.

Staying here would be for nothing. I'd just sit here and get old.

Even you must know that.

But what about Mariko? What's best for her?

Mariko?

Mariko'll get used to it. She'll have to.

Mariko, get ready. Forget those cats.

I won't go to America. I don't want to.

Frank said this morning, no cats!

He can die for all I care.

Why make a fuss over cats?!

You said I could take them! You forgot?!

We don't have time for this.

- You said I could! - No! Leave them!

If you like, Mariko, I'll come sometimes and feed them.

They'll find homes eventually.

You said we'd keep them!

Stop being a little baby!

Now, bring me that one.

This is Atsu!

Look, this is Atsu!

Mariko, bring it to me!

No!

Sachiko. Sachiko.

Mum! Wait!

Wait for me here!

Set them loose! Someone might want them!

Etsuko. They're just cats. Pay no mind.

(A CHRISTMAS CAROL)

(Keiko, 5 years old)

What are you doing out here?

Why are you sitting out here?

I don't want to go.

Not to England.

Don't worry. It'll all go well for us.

What are you holding?

This?

It caught on my sandals.

- But why are you... - I told you.

It just caught on my feet.

Keiko, what's wrong?

Why look at me that way? Nothing to be afraid of.

Why look at me that way?

(November 20th, 1958 Niki is born)

Mum?

I knew from the start, you see.

I knew that even if we came here,

Keiko wouldn't be happy. But I mad the decision all the same.

That's not true.

There's no way you could have known that.

You did everything you could for Keiko.

I don't think I'll ever understand

About you, or Keiko, or how things were back then.

But I do know one thing.

It's not your fault that Keiko died.

I won first prize.

You did. You're amazing.

It'll be a great kitten house. Some rags'll make it a home.

I suppose so...

Let's do that.

Yay! Thank you, Mum!

Don’t forget the chutney I made you!

I won't be able to eat all that by myself.

Don't you have anyone to share it with?

No. . . Not anymore.

No plans to settle down?

What difference would getting married make?

I'm just asking.

Women need to open their eyes, Mum,

there is more to life than getting married and having babies.

Is there?

At the end of the day, there isn't much else.

Mum. There is so much you could do.

Is that right?

Of course. You need to change, Mum.

We all need to change.

I'm never going back to London.