“We will never come together as long as we hang onto nationalistic sentiments. We must instill in our future generations the importance of taking responsibility for our own actions. Only then can we speak as equals and contemplate the possibility of a world free of nuclear weapons.”

“My mother was killed by the atomic bomb on my tenth birthday. After being bedridden for two months due to severe burns and injuries, she took her last breath. From that point onward, I was thrust into a world of turmoil as a post-war orphan.

I witnessed numerous deaths and began to question the existence of God or any semblance of morality. Each time I encountered pain and hardship I fell deeper into a cycle of distrust and isolation. I begrudged the selfish adults that started this war and resented the US. I often wished to follow in my mother’s footsteps but was always turned away by her spirit, which told me to live on to tell my story.

Shortly before my mother’s death, my 18-year-old brother returned from the navy. When she passed away, we mourned her passing together. However, my brother soon spiraled out of control. He brought home intimidating strangers whom he called his ‘friends,’ though they often betrayed him. He went into large amounts of debt, and we sold many of our possessions or stole to survive. My brother was kind to me on his good days, but took out his anger on me in sudden outbursts. He often beat me over and over with a seishin chunyu bou (a large rod used to beat soldiers into submission).

I grew desperate. I continued to steal. Soon, my friends’ parents dubbed me a furyo shonen (bad influence), and my friends grew distant. I spent my formative years involved in petty crime.

Interestingly, ever since I’ve found stability in my life many years later, I’ve developed a keen sense of justice, of what is right and wrong. So strange, after all of those years I spent stealing to survive.”