Yoshio straightened his kimono and sat down at the tatami table, slowly lowering himself to his knees. His wife, Etsu, served him breakfast on a rectangular cherry wood tray. There was miso soup, fish with pickled vegetables, and a raw egg. Since the war days, food had always been scarce; on the other hand, today his tray was amply filled for something special was in store. Yoshio had been appointed principal at the elementary school where he was a teacher and was to officially take up his new post that day. He was gently sipping his cup and enjoying his hot green tea when his mother and daughter entered the room.

"Good morning okâsama," Yoshio greeted his mother Kiyoshi.

"Good morning, Yoshio," the old woman replied kindly.

Yoshio then looked to his daughter "Good morning, musume," he greeted her as well.

"Good morning, outo-san," Aiko replied, leaning forward respectfully.

"What time do you have to be at school," he asked.

"At 10:00, otô-san," she replied.

"Sit down and have breakfast with me," he offered her politely.

"Thank you father, but I have something to do for school," Aiko replied, waiting until her father agreed with a slight nod of his head. She sat down in a corner of the room, took out her textbook and read it.

There was a knock at the door. It was Mr. Benjiro. He bowed politely to Mrs. Etsu, who had opened the door. "Come in, Benjirosan," Etsu invited the guest and stepped aside, bowing.

Mr. Benjiro bowed again in thanks and asked, "Is kōchō-san ready? I came to pick up our new principal."

Yoshio indicated a bow as he sat. "Benjirosan, go ahead. I will follow to school."

The man bowed in agreement and left. Yoshio drank from his tea. He had not yet touched his breakfast. For some reason, he didn't feel hungry today, but instead he felt an oppressive feeling gripping his body and mind. The excitement, Yoshio thought. He looked at his wristwatch: it read 8:15. He wanted to be at school by nine, but the loss of appetite and the constricting feeling in his chest were reason enough for him to get up from the table to get ready for work. On the wall hung a well-worn calendar. It showed August 6, 1945.

Mrs. Etsu quietly cleared away. Aiko was reading in her textbook and his mother, okaa-san, had sat down next to her granddaughter and was watching her. Yoshio strode to the window and looked out. Everything seemed to be going on as usual. It was a beautiful sunny August day in Hiroshima. Yoshio noticed a plane just passing high in the cloudless sky, dropping something."