All language subtitles for The.Face.of.Jizo.2004.JAPANESE.1080p.WEBRip.x265-VXT

Directed by Kazuo Kuroki

Hiroshima - Summer 1948

Tuesday

Daddy, I'm scared!

This way, over here, Mitsue, quick!

Get the cushion on your head!
Get in under there.

Daddy, so that's where you've been.

Of course.

You tell me where to go and
that's where I've been.

But...

it's ridiculous, I mean...

preposterous... I... you...

Quit babbling. Get in here.

Daddy!

I'm scared!

You've got me, the closet and
the cushion for you.

No flashes or booms
are going to hurt you.

But, daddy, I'm already 23.

A bit of thunder shouldn't scare me.

It's embarrassing and really gets to me.

Don't blame yourself.

I don't know...

You were the tomboy of
the athletics club.

A bit of thunder didn't stop you then.

There were only three of us.

I had to run everything
from the sprint to

Iong distance. Who had time to
worry about thunder?

So what happened to turn you
to such a scaredy-cat?

I don't know.

I just am.

Since when?

Since about three years ago.

The A-bomb, eh?

I guess.

Remember Nobu from the photo shop?

He took a lot of pictures of all of us.

He was a good photographer.
He took great pictures.

Yeah, if you call
those racy pictures great.

Racy?

You used our inn for army officers.

You let out the rooms to them and

got your hands on
a lot of goods that way.

So I did.

We had rice, sake

canned salmon, cigarettes,
caramels, everything.

Mom died when you were a little girl.

I didn't want you to be starved.
So I tried my best.

You would lure many women
with cigarettes and rice.

You let Nobu take
those nude photos of them.

He showed them to
those officers. And...

Nobu now sells little jellies he gets
from God knows where.

I know.

He wastes his talent,
peddling black-market jellies.

Serves him right!

Just listen to me.

Sorry.

Every time one of his...

magnesium bulbs popped,

he couldn't get the flash of the bomb

out of his head.

That's why he quit taking pictures.

So he says.

The flashes and the booming remind you
of the bomb, too.

I don't know...

You have to know.

You got your reason to be scared.

Nobody blames an A-bomb
victim for getting

shook up over something that flashes.

You got a right to be scared.

Is there a right for being scared?

There should be.

A bomb victim not afraid of
thunder is phoney.

I wouldn't go that far.

Well, maybe... okay.

The sun's come out.

Yeah, the sun!

Thunder seems to have moved on
out to sea.

That's a relief.

I've got some barley tea
I made his morning.

Want some?

That's nice.

Can't drink it.

I guess so.

Oh, my...!

What is it?

The sweet bean bun
Mr. Kinoshita gave you.

What if it's been squished?

Oh, no!

It's still okay.

He got it at a stall.

Buns like this are rare.

Mr. Kinoshita says he was
stopped dead in his tracks

when he caught sight of the buns.

So he bought one but
then his legs turned to lead.

He had to buy another before
he could finally get away.

This is one hell of a bean jam.

I was standing by the library
checkout desk. He walks up

and says, "Two are too much
for me, you take one."

Let's eat now.

I can't, you know.

Yeah, I forgot.

Kinoshita gave you the bun.

He teaches at the University
of Science, right?

Yeah, he's attached to
the physics department.

"Attached"?

A kind of teacher.

He wears glasses thicker than
two milk bottle bottoms.

He speaks so softly.
He's one hell of an intellectual.

He was a Navy Arsenal's
Institute teacher

till the bomb dropped.

He was a lieutenant there.

He's a bit rough for a navy man.

Not all the navy men
are like you think.

He studied again at
Tohoku University

for 2 years after the war ended.

He came back here
in early July, this month.

He says that...

just after the bomb dropped here
in Hiroshima,

all he did was wander about.

How old is he? 30 maybe?

Twenty-six.

He wrote so on his library card.

And you're 23.
So it's a perfect match.

What're you saying?

He's just a library-goer.

But he gave you the bun.

Ridiculous.
I'm not going on with this.

It's time for supper.

You going to stay?

Up to you.

Okay. Give me a hand with
the cleaning up.

Kinoshita gave you the bun
because he liked you.

You ought to get that straight.

You see too much in a little bun.

Even buns can carry a lot of weight.
Remember that.

He gave it to me to thank me,
that's all.

More than just thanks in my book.

Oh, daddy!

Please come here and sit down.

Four days ago,
on Friday last week...

Excuse me.

Objects related to the A-bomb...?

A city hall clerk said to ask here.

Even if we gather
information on the bomb,

the occupation forces
forbid going public.

Besides...

as an A-bomb victim myself,
I'm trying to forget it.

But...

Nothing about what happened
that day in August...

will make a story, a picture,
a poem, a novel...

or a subject to be studied.

One instant pulverized
people's whole world.

That's why we don't
collect things on it.

Not only that.
If there were such things,

we'd destroy them for good.

I've burnt everything
that'd remind me of my father.

The bun was only to
thank me for that.

You got two checkout desks

at the library, with one girl at each.

That's right,
Miss Takagaki and me. So...?

Since the bomb,
you've not been yourself.

You keep everything to
yourself. You smile

only after you come home.

While Miss Takagaki is a cheerful girl.

Yeah, so? What are you getting at?

What makes a fellow like
Kinoshita go for you

instead of someone
more approachable

Iike Miss Takagaki?

It's his privilege.

That's what I'm saying.

Kinoshita has a head on
his shoulders.

And you always knew
what was what.

You graduated second in your class.

Kinoshita saw the real you
and took notice.

That's what's behind that bun.

That's enough. Stop it.

Your stories have nothing
to do with me.

Another meaning in that bun...

Stop bringing up that bun!

This is crucial for you.
I'm not going to stop it.

You come out of the blue and
go on about some stupid bun.

I can't think straight any more.

You fancy Kinoshita, too.

You won't have eyes
for anybody else.

Hard on the outside
but sweet on the inside.

Your heart is like a bun.

Not on your life!

I don't let myself get keen
on anybody and that's that.

Then why didn't you push
that bun back in his face?

Absolutely quiet.

That's the main rule at my library.

"Hi! Have a bun."

"No thanks."

"Please. I insist."

"It's against the rules to
accept a bun."

Think we can blabber away like
that at the library?

The library staff eavesdrop on
everything that happens.

All I could do was take the bun.

But you'll meet him

during your lunch break tomorrow.

I wanted to say no, but...

But you can't blabber away?

So I just nodded okay.

That means...

You watch me tomorrow.
Watch me tell Kinoshita

never to speak to me again.

Why do you always
turn everything around?

No harm in fancying him.

You like each other.

Get yourselves together
and live happily.

That's what the bun really means.

I can't be happy.

So just stop talking.

I'm head of your fan club.
I won't let you go.

My fan club?

Yep. Think about it.

I started showing up
last Friday, right?

That day, your heart
started throbbing

when you caught sight
of Kinoshita.

Isn't that right?

My torso was born of that throbbing.

When he started to approach
the checkout desk,

a soft little sigh slipped
from your lips. Right?

My arms and legs
grew out of that sigh.

Then you made a wish
that he would choose

your desk to come up to.

My heart came to
life out of that wish.

Excuse me.

Objects related to the A-bomb...?

A city hall clerk said to ask here.

Is that why you've been

hanging around to get me
to fall in love?

Love is out of the question.

Stop pestering me about it.

Stop suppressing your feelings.

Or you'll end up living a dull life.

Keep your nose out of my business.
I'm busy:

A supper to make, things
to prepare for tomorrow.

We have a Children's
Summer Storytelling Club where

we tell stories to kids.

Every day 30 or 40 kids
get together in a pine forest at Hijiyama.

There's a cool breeze there.

They love our voices

mingled with the sound of the breeze.

They look forward to it every day.
I've got to be prepared.

Wednesday

"The city of Hiroshima

"has been known as the beautiful city

"on water straddling seven rivers.

"These seven rivers flow into one,
the Ohtagawa, in the

"north of the city.

"My classmates and
I took great pleasure in

"traveling to the villages along
that river where

"the people there told us stories
handed down to them.

"The truth is, our real reason
was not the stories

"but the oysters in miso,
the pine mushroom rice,

"the yam jellies in miso

"and treats like that..."

"That's why we traipsed around there.

"The story you are about to hear is

"one told to us by an old man
at that time.

"I remember grilled sweetfish
was served with it.

"In the mountains just
a stone's throw from the river...",

"There lived an old man and woman.

"The old man was a miser and loafer.

"He would rather die than
a decent day's work.

"The two were able to get
by thanks to the old woman:

"She did everything from
washing clothes to grilling fish.

"One day...

"the old woman went to catch
some sweetfish. She was thirsty.

"She took a drink from the river.

"Then all the wrinkles on
her face vanished.

"She took another drink and
her back went straight.

"One more drink and

"she turned into
a ravishing young beauty.

"She told the old man the news.
He hollered:

" 'You're not the only one
to get youth back.

" 'Just wait and see
the handsome young man I'll turn into.'

"So yelling, he ran out of the house.

"And he didn't return though night fell."

Daddy?

Will this heat never let up!

So you're here?

I sure am. Haven't seen you
for a whole day.

Can you stop that rumbling?

I can't rehearse my story!
What are you doing?

I got some small fry.

And I'm adding miso.
I've ground it up good.

How did you guess what
I was planning to make?

You had the small fry
and the miso here.

Now, in goes the miso
just like this...

And now we mix in
the finely chopped chillies.

And you have it, small fry
in miso, our speciality.

Not bad at all.

I'm still a good cook, eh?

What happens next
in that story of yours?

What becomes of the old man?

Even though night fell,
he didn't return home.

The old woman goes out looking
for him with a lantern.

She gets to the bank of the river.

She sees a little baby bawling.

Kids these days won't like it.

I'm not forcing them to.

You must put a bit more spice into it.

Make it like this:

The old geezer doesn't come back.

The old woman goes out to find him.

All she finds is a pair of dentures.

The old geezer drank too much water.

He got himself unborn.

I get that point.

It's a lot funnier, eh?

Don't touch a story.

You must relate the older
generations' stories as they are.

That's the philosophy of
the Folktale Research Club.

Remember what the inspector said
six years ago?

"Forget folktales and
work at the factory.

"We got a war on.
This is an emergency."

Your club broke up in 1942,
if I recall.

But the spirit of that club
is still live inside me.

That's what you and
Kinoshita had an argument about, eh?

It wasn't an argument.
It was a debate.

Out of the question!

You answered so sharply that
Kinoshita was jolted.

Kinoshita first got interested
in the bomb when

he found a burnt roof title.

Yeah, he told me.

That year,

he came here to Hiroshima to catch
a train home to Iwate.

He roamed around the burnt-out city.

He sat himself down where
there'd been a temple.

He opened his lunch box. Then...

he felt something like needles
under his buttocks.

He sat on a roof tile
thrown there by the bomb.

The tile is covered in thorns,

all sticking out in the same direction.

The tile's surface had melted to form it

in that instant of heat.

He thought he had to know
more about the bomb:

What happened in that intense heat.

He picked up all the tiles
he could find,

on his way back to the station.

He told me that too.

You took one of the tiles
for safe keeping.

I didn't take it.

He forced it on me and left.

The sliver of glass from
the bomb victims.

It's inhuman.

The roof tile.

It's so sharp.

A twisted medicine bottle.

Awful.

Kinoshita says he's got beer bottles
twisted like this.

And big sake bottles warped into
the shape of a horn.

A standing stone lantern whose
surface is foamy bubbles.

And a burnt grandfather clock.

The landlady of his
boarding house is trying

to kick him out.

Really?

Every time he comes back
with more objects,

she complains,
"They give me the creeps.

"They'd go through the floor.

"I'll have to up your rent."
She's on his back all the time.

She really gave it to him when
he came back with more tiles.

She cut the amount of
food for his supper.

What a landlady!

Kinoshita came to me today and said:

I know I'm asking a lot.

But could you keep my stuff
in the library?

It's impossible, eh?

One word from MacArthur
and we could.

I felt sorry for him and asked
if I could sleep on it.

So I must see him again tomorrow.

He's a real pain.

Your handkerchief...

Handkerchief.

Small fry in miso for Kinoshita.
Give it to him tomorrow.

Daddy!

Men like girls' handkerchieves.

Stop imagining things and
reading everything into them.

Then give it to your boss.

My boss's wife is a jealous woman.

It might cause trouble.

Then give it to Kinoshita.

Don't do anything like this again.

Now, what were you arguing

about with Kinoshita?

Before we parted, he asked:

Isn't it a good idea to use my objects

in trying to tell the children

about what happened?

He sure has a head on his shoulders.

I told him it was impossible,

we couldn't touch the original stories.

There you go again!

It's one thing to stick to
the original stories, but...

He kept on pushing the stuff
he collected on me.

He wouldn't take no for an answer.

Out of the question!

Then I started shouting, I guess.

That's about it.

I just had a brilliant idea.

Your big ideas for things
can't be counted on.

You often started up some
new business and failed.

You lost everything but
the little inn granddad left.

Anyway...

everything left to me would
have gone with the bomb.

I saw past things.

That insults all people who
work their guts out.

Okay.

You'll end up arguing
if you just repeat those stories.

Why not slip
Kinoshita's material in them?

He'll be tickled then.

The storytelling is for children.

Sure it is. Look...

Just take a fairytale.
Any one you like.

And work the atom bomb into it.

How?

You figure it out.

The occupation forces keep
an eye on everything.

You just don't know how powerful
the occupation army is.

Got it!

I have to memorize my stories.

You can leave any time.
Do visit again.

You'll be telling your stories
to the kids.

The wind will carry
your words everywhere.

They'll enter the kids' hearts.

They'll turn into little rainbows.

There'll be no proof.

The Hiroshima wind is
fighting for you.

May not do you any good,
but listen to me.

Everyone knows...

the story of the Little Inch-High
Warrior in Kyoto.

He hops into the red ogre's mouth
to save a princess.

He sticks a sewing needle to
the ogre's tummy.

The ogre surrenders at last.

The Warrior's powerful.

But the Little Inch-High Warrior
of Hiroshima is even more powerful.

Of Hiroshima?

Come to Mitsue's Apron Theater!

Apron Theater?

Apron pockets can help
dramatize a story.

He does hop into the ogre's tummy.
But after that...

the story goes differently.

Having found himself inside
the ogre's belly,

he pushes the tile to it.

"Hey, ogre!

"In my hand I have a tile burnt by

"the A-bomb in Hiroshima.

"An A-bomb was detonated at
a height of 580 meters

"above Hiroshima on that day.

"There was a fireball with
a temperature of 12,000¡ÆC.

"Get that? 12,000 degrees!

"Twice as hot as the sun!

"That day, the sky was split up with

"two suns at 580 meters
above the ground.

"Two suns, for one second then another,
up in the sky."

"Everything on the ground,

"the people and the birds and the bugs

"and the buildings,
they all melted in a flash.

"Then the atomic blast.

"It arrived faster than the speed of sound.

"The melted tiles were blasted, too.

"They grew little needles.

"They cooled into jagged
thorns like icicles.

"They were like the blades of
a grater or iron spikes.

"With these terrifying spikes,
I'm going to grate

"your liver into slivers of pulp!"

The red ogre's writhes in pain.

His red face just gets paler and paler.

The Warrior of Hiroshima took
a twisted medicine bottle.

"Hey, ogre! I'm going to
shove this bottle

"up your bumhole from the inside.

"Drop dead from constipation!"

"Hey, ogre!

"This is a piece of glass that
pierced human flesh.

"Every window in Hiroshima
was blown out by the blast,

"shooting slivers

"of glass into human bodies."

Stop it!

"With this sliver, I'm going to
make mincemeat out of

"your guts and appendix!"

I said stop it!

It was so inhuman:

What people did to...

people was to line up...

two suns in the sky.

It might be too much for
the people of Hiroshima...

to take slipping things
from the bomb...

into a story...

any story.

Keep that in mind.

I wanted Kinoshita to be keen on you.
But I was wrong.

Just another of my big ideas.

Be content with the small fry in miso.

Give it to him tomorrow.

Thank you, daddy, for everything...

you've done for me.

Daddy?

Thursday

Yesterday's rain was clever.

It came down at night and
stopped in the morning.

This rain doesn't have the brains
it was born with.

It started in the morning.

It hasn 't stopped yet.

Rain, rain, go away!

Your old man 's a brute.

Your old mum 's a floozy.

"Mr. T adashi Kinoshita...

"care of Mrs. Takizawa.

"Dear Mr. Kinoshita..."

"Dear Mr. Kinoshita"?

"Thank you for visiting the library...

"...always busy when you kindly appear...

"...this is such an important matter...

"...the things from the bomb zone...

"...if you have nothing against my home...

"...as I live by myself, there is room...

"...it does have a few leaks but...

"...as it is stiflingly hot these days...

"...take good care of yourself...
yours truly."

Home already?

Daddy?

I'm here all right.

What're you doing here?

The rain spoiled our storytelling.

It should've rained at night.

Poor kids! Come back
to get something?

I left work early.

Feeling sick?

You aren't nauseous, are you?

Is it the dizziness,
the ringing in your ears?

Is it the radiation sickness?

Not recently.

That's a relief.

The only place it aches is here.

Is that all?

Maybe that monster of
an illness has finally gone away.

When you believe he's gone,
he catches you by surprise.

You can't relax so easily.

It's really awful, eh?

Look!

We did it!

It's finally stopped raining.

I was all but out of things
to catch it in.

So everything work out?

Meaning...?

The small fry in miso.

Was Kinoshita happy?

Oh, that.

Didn't he say,
"Oh, this is my favorite food"?

I still have it.

Here it is.

Why is it here?

I didn't go to see him.

Why not?

It was raining for one thing...

You got an umbrella.

I could slip on the paths.

You have good clogs.

Besides...

What?

It's best not to see him again.

Stop saying that or you'll
become a laughingstock.

I stayed at the library instead of going.

You still have time.

Then I saw Kinoshita walking
toward the library.

I left so as not to meet him.

What a girl!
I'd smack some sense into you!

Daddy...

It's best this way.

I mustn't fall in love with anyone.

Mind you don't lose all heart.

I'll be fine!

Let me be, okay?

You can't fool me.

What's up?

I know you're lying.

Don't pretend you don't fancy him.

Look, all I said was...

It's obvious.

"Yours truly." It's all here, right?

All women write that.

"As I live by myself..."
Do all women write that?

It's a joke.
I planned to throw it away.

I'll keep it.

Daddy...

Why insist you can't fall in love?

You may not be a ravishing beauty.

But you've got respectable-enough
features.

Ridiculous.

It's a good enough face for Kinoshita.
Why worry?

That's not the point.

The radiation sickness?

You can't fall in love,
because it may hit you again?

But he said

he'd take best care of me
if it came to that.

You two seem to have it all sewn up.

Are you worried about your future kids?

Radiation sickness does
get passed down to babies.

If that's our fate, we'll
bring them up best as we can.

Did he say that?

More or less. Not so straight, though.

Whether it's more or less,
you've gone that far.

You don't need me.

And it's all the more reason
I can't go on seeing him.

You're close to him now
but you don't want to be?

More or less.

Stop this nonsense or I'll get mad.

You change your stories so often.

What you say is topsy-turvy.
I can't tell which end is up.

Kindly be seated, father.

I will.

There are many other people who
should have been able

to lead a happy life.

Who am I to elbow
my way past them and

make a claim on happiness?

If I did, I'd never be able to
look them in the face.

Who are you talking about?

People like Akiko Fukumura,
for instance.

Akiko Fukumura? Her?

We went through schools together.

We always sat next to each other.

Because of family names:

They both started with
the character for "Lucky."

So everyone called us Lucky One
and Lucky Two.

When you were both absent,
the teacher called it "unlucky."

We started up the
Folktale Research Club at college.

With Akiko as president and
me as vice president.

We made the strict policy:

Original stories are not to be touched.

And you stuck to it?

That's right.

You two competed on grades, too.

I could outrun her, but
I never outdid her on grades.

I always came in second.

It's your fault.

Don't blame me.

Besides that, she was really pretty.

Everybody called her
the prettiest around.

Because her mother
was a goodlooker.

And she was a widow to boot.

One look at her and I got so thrilled.

So you wrote her a letter.

You sent it with some food.

"Miss Fukumura, may I accompany you
to view cherry blossoms?

"Very kindly yours.
Takezo Fukuyoshi."

How did you find it out?

Akiko showed it to me.

She said, " 'Very kindly yours' is weird."

How so?

It's the sort of thing women write.

She showed it to her daughter?

What a nasty widow!

She treated me like a
real mother very tenderly.

And she should've been your mother.

She should've married me.

Akiko should have had
a chance at happiness.

Why's that, then?

She was prettier than me,
more clever and more popular.

And she saved me from the A-bomb.

Saved you from the bomb?

If it weren't for her,
I wouldn't be alive today.

Absurd! You and I were
the only people in our garden then.

What are you talking about?

She saved me with a letter.

A letter?

Akiko was teaching at a girls' school.

She had gone to an airplane factory
with her pupils.

I had received a letter from
her the day before.

I soon wrote a reply.

Be careful!

Daddy.

They're dropping something.

Funny, there's been no air raid warning.

Wonder what they're dropping.

Propaganda flyers again?

Oh, no!

Everything under the sun
turned pale white.

I saw it full on, a huge fireball
as bright as two suns.

Blindingly white at the center

with a weird kind of yellow
and red outline.

I was shielded from the heat

by the stone lantern.

That big stone lantern?
It was worth its cost.

Because I got a letter from Akiko,

I was kneeling down by the lantern.

That's why I said she saved my life.

What is it?

Akiko had taken

the first train
from Mizushima to Hiroshima.

She was on her way to
the school to fetch things for

her evening tutorial:

Mimeograph things and stuff.

What did she do then?

She stopped off at her mother's,

then set out for school at 8.

She was hit by the bomb
near a Red Cross office.

Akiko's mother didn't find her till
a whole day after.

She had been...

Iaid out on the office's dirty floor.

Oh, my God... the poor little girl.

Her buttocks were completely exposed:

The back of her pants burnt off.

And there was a little patch
of dried stool...

I've heard enough.

Now I think I know why you feel

you can't seek out happiness.

But, why not live out
Akiko's happiness for her?

I can't do that!

Why not?

Because I promised her mother.

Her mother?

Something...

akin to a promise.

What promise?

I met her mother three days
after the blast.

In the early evening of August 9.

I had run off to
Mrs. Horiuchi's house.

I stayed there till
the morning of the 9th.

Mrs. Horiuchi?
The name rings a bell.

My flower arranging teacher
from school.

Oh, that old Mrs. Horiuchi?

Lucky for you to have
such a nice teacher.

I left that morning and
got home around noon.

The whole city smelt like
grilled fish then.

Yeah, grilled into oblivion.

I cried picking up your bones.

I know.

Thank you.

Then I went to Akiko's.
But I found...

everything was burnt to the ground.
I saw her mother.

She was lying in a tunnel dug
into the garden.

She was on her stomach
because her back was

covered in enormous blisters.

Oh, the poor woman.

She looked...

really happy to see me.

She got to her feet and
hugged me really tight.

She thanked me for coming.

But when she started
telling me about Akiko...

she turned white as a ghost.

She glared at me and said...

Go on.

"What are you doing alive?"

"Why are you alive when
my daughter isn't?"

She was dead...

by the end of the month, too.

This may not help but...

I'm sure she didn't mean it.

No, it was unnatural for
me to have survived!

I don't deserve to live.

Don't say a thing like that!

Listen to me!

No, I won't!

Almost all of my friends are gone.

Etsuko died while standing
in a fire-prevention reservoir.

Kaori just walked along.

Her tongue swollen out of her mouth,
like a huge eggplant.

Fumiko'd gotten married
just after graduation.

She died with her baby
at her breast.

The baby, too, went to
the other world,

without even an inkling of
what this world is like.

Machiko at the telephone exchange...

Two of her coworkers

were too scared to move.
She put her arms around them.

She told them to be brave.

But they all died there, too.

It's been three years since.

But some are still missing.

And there's you, too, daddy...

You and I have our old agreement.

Remember that.

That's wrong.

To die in Hiroshima was
the natural thing.

To survive here is unnatural.

That's why my being
alive now is wrong.

Dead people don't think so.

I'm perfectly at peace with
what happened to me.

Listen.

I don't deserve to be alive.

But...

I have to live like this.

I'm just going to live a quiet life.

I'll leave life...

quietly when I get the chance to do so.

Daddy...

It's been three very hard years for me.

Please at least give me credit
for managing to stay alive.

Going out?

Back to the library.
I have some books to repair there.

Maybe Kinoshita...

Hold on a minute.

Take this to the post office
on your way.

Special delivery!

Ridiculous...

That's an order!

Friday

Daddy...

Did you call me?

You've been here?

Yeah, more or less.

Will Kinoshita bring more things?

This is a half of what he's got.

Quite a collection, eh?

You can't blame his landlady.

How far did the driver say...

his boarding house was from here?

5 kilometers one way.

With six traffic signals and
one railway crossing.

Then I'd estimate that

he'd be back in 30 or 40 minutes.

Thank him for everything and
offer him a bath.

A bath?

It's the best treat on a hot day.

Preparing for it?

You bet.

You're thoughtful.

I'm used to things of this sort.

How does he like it?
Boiling hot or tepid?

How should I know?

I'll aim for something in between.

You'll have to give him
something cold too.

I've bought beer.

Good going.

The driver'll have to content himself
with cold water.

I've bought ice too.

And you'll have to ask the driver
to leave early.

He will. He's busy.

That's good.

Have you got new towels ready?

I've bought them.

Soap?

Bought.

A sponge?

Bought one.

A man's bathrobe?

Bought...

No, why should I?

It'd be scandalous to
buy a man's bathrobe.

And it's premature for
you to wash him up in the bath.

That'd be scandalous, too.

Put more firewood...

I know.
What'll you serve him for dinner?

Beer and small fry.

Sardines.

And rice.

Anything to go with rice?

Chopped carrots and
then deep fried Tofu.

Sounds delicious.

Topped off with a slice of melon.

Can I eat them, too?

Nothing'd make me happier than
to see you eat.

Summer vacation...?

Vacation?

Kinoshita said it'd be nice

if you could go with
him up to Iwate

during his summer vacation.

Said his folks'd be happy to see you.

I guess I'd get time off if I wanted.

Then go with him.

I've always wanted to go to Iwate:

Kenji Miyazawa came from there.

Who's he?

A poet and children's story writer.

His books are popular in our library.

I like his poems, too.

What poems?

"The Morning of Last Farewell" and...

"Once Around the Stars."

"Once Around the Stars"?

The Scorpion with red,
burning eyes.

The Eagle with wings
so gracefully unfurled.

Little Dog his eyes
so blue and bright.

The long Snake of light shines
in its own world.

The poem has lots of
constellation names in it.

I too wrote a poem about
the stars as a kid.

You did?

The night has come again tonight.

Three, four... seven stars.

And dozing off I count the stars...

I'll go check on the fire.

The teacher gave me a B
for it and pinned it on the wall.

Kinoshita's asking you to go
with him was a proposal.

You got that?

In the heavens the stars twinkle.

On the ground the burglars burgle
in the forest.

Through the trees
the ragged owl bumps.

While the temple raccoon pounds
his belly like drums...

Daddy...

He has a little beard.
You'll have to get a razor.

I don't keep razors in the house.

Too many bomb victims
killed themselves with them.

Some cut their left wrist and
stuck their arm in the bath.

Are you packing or something?

Doesn't look like you'll take
a summer holiday.

I'll help Mrs. Horiuchi with
her flower arranging.

If I leave now, I'll be able to
catch the 7:05 train.

Give it another thought.
Kinoshita'll be back.

You invite him and kick him out?

How rude!

I'll leave him a note at
the front door. Don't worry.

What about the dinner
you cooked up for him?

He can have it all to himself.
I'll write so.

But the bath!
Is he to take it by himself?

After that...

"Close the shutters when you leave.
Lock the door.

"Leave the key with
the next door neighbor."

And the last line is...

"I'll keep your invaluable
objects for you.

"But please forget about me.
Sincerely yours..."

The library...?

I won't go.

The old sickness again?

No!

Yes! The sickness!

I came out of the throbbing
of your heart,

from the heat of your sighs
and your faint wishes.

I won't allow you to write this!

Give me back the pencil!

It was Akiko's.

She gave it to me before
the bomb dropped.

You're sick.
There's a name for what you have.

The symptoms appear in people

who have survived their friends.

It's called "Guilt-ridden Survivoritis."

I know how you feel.

But you're alive and
you must go on living.

Get over this sickness right away.

The person I feel so awful
and guilty about is...

You, daddy.

What?

Of course I feel really guilty about
Akiko and others too.

But I was just trying to
cover up and deny...

what I did with the sense of guilt.

I left you where you were
and ran away. That's fact.

Your face was so badly burnt then.

It was melted away like
the face of this Jizo.

And I did nothing.
I left you and ran away.

We've been over that.
It's settled.

I thought so, too.

That's why I didn't remember
what happened until now.

But seeing this face

brought it all back to me so clearly.

I'm the daughter whose father fell into
a sea of flames.

And I ran away from it.

A human being like that
has no right to be happy.

That's totally absurd.

Remember, daddy?

I came to and the house was
collapsed on top of us.

I knew something terrible'd happened.
I didn't know what.

I just knew I had to get out
from under there.

I managed to wriggle my way out.

But you couldn't budge.

You just lay there

on your back with pillars, beams,

and all these pieces of wood

everywhere on top of you.

"Somebody, come and
save my daddy!"

So I screamed.

But nobody came.

The same sort of thing was happening
all over Hiroshima.

I had no saw or ax, not even a mallet.

I tried to lift up a big pillar.

I tried everything but it didn't work.

You did all you could have.

Then I smelled this acrid smoky smell.

I saw our hair and eyebrows were...

on fire, crackling...

You tried to cover me.

Over again, you put out the flames
that came off me.

I was grateful.

But I knew we'd both die
if you kept on doing that.

So I said, "Get out of here!"

You said, "No, I won't!"

So we repeated "Get out!"
"No, I won't."

Then you said, "Okay, let's play
scissors-paper-rock.

"I'll put out a rock.
You don't have a prayer for winning."

Ready or not, here I go!

There you go again.

I see through you.

Since I was a kid...

You've let me win like this.

You were so kind...

Why not put out paper?

Can't you see I want you to win?

Show a little respect for me
and run away.

Do as your father says for
this one last time.

If you don't run away,
I'll die on your right here and now.

You see?

Both your surviving and
my dying were

based on a mutual agreement.

But the fact is, I left you ther

I should've died beside you.

You're so stupid!

How did you ever get so stupid, eh?

What did you learn at schools?

Uh, I...

Listen to me!

When you were next to me,
you cried and told me

how inhuman it all was

that we had to part like this.

Remember?

Then I said to you...

"A parting like this should
never happen again.

"It's not human."

Maybe you were able to hear
my last words...

"Live my life for me too."

So you will go on living
because of me.

Go on living?

Yes.

So that the world will remember...

too many people have had to
say goodbye like that.

Isn't your library to
tell people those things?

Isn't your job to tell people
sad things and happy things?

If you don't even know that...

there's no way
I can ever depend on you.

Have some other child instead.

Some other child?

A grandchild...

A great grandchild.

When will I see you again?

Depends on you.

Might be a while.

I forgot to top up the firewood.

Daddy...

Thank you!

With:

Rie Miyazawa

Yoshio Harada

Tadanobu Asano

From a book by Hisashi Inoue

Planned by Seigo Fukada

Executive Producers:

Tomiyasu Ishikawa
Kazumi Kawashiro

Hajime Harie
Ryuichiro Kanazawa

Yoichi Matsumoto
Wataru Suzuki

Producers:

Satoshi Kono
Natsuko Kitani

Masanao Kuwajima
Masaichiro Omura

Akihisa Nara
Takafumi Ohashi

Screenplay by Kazuo Kuroki
Shinya Ikeda

Director of Photography: Tatsuo Suzuki

Art Director: Takeo Kimura

Music: Teizo Matsumura

Production Companies:

Eisei Gekijo

BANDAI VISUAL

Nihon Sky Way

TV Tokyo MediaNet

Aoi Advertising Promotion

PAL Entertainments Production

Directed by Kazuo Kuroki