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After
a
little
less
than
an
hour
of
running
,
I
planted
myself
on
the
edge
of
the
seawall
.
I
’
d
covered
about
eight
kilometers
,
putting
me
about
halfway
to
Tateyama
.
My
sand
-
colored
shirt
was
dark
with
sweat
.
The
gauze
wrapped
around
my
head
was
coming
loose
.
A
gentle
sea
breeze
-
refreshing
after
that
hot
wind
that
had
swept
across
the
base
-
caressed
the
back
of
my
neck
.
If
it
weren
’
t
for
the
machine
guns
,
props
stolen
from
some
long
forgotten
anime
,
intruding
on
the
real
world
,
it
would
have
been
the
very
picture
of
a
tropical
resort
.
The
beach
was
littered
with
the
husks
of
spent
firework
rockets
-
the
crude
kind
you
put
together
and
launch
with
a
plastic
tube
.
No
one
would
be
crazy
enough
to
come
this
close
to
a
military
base
to
set
off
fireworks
.
They
must
have
been
left
by
some
bastard
on
the
feed
trying
to
warn
the
Mimics
about
the
attack
on
Boso
Peninsula
.
There
were
anti
-
war
activists
out
there
who
were
convinced
the
Mimics
were
intelligent
creatures
,
and
they
were
trying
to
open
a
line
of
communication
with
them
.
Ain
’
t
democracy
grand
?
Thanks
to
global
warming
,
this
whole
strip
of
beach
was
below
sea
level
when
the
tide
came
in
.
By
dusk
,
these
fucking
tubes
would
be
washed
away
by
the
sea
and
forgotten
.
No
one
would
ever
know
.
I
kicked
one
of
the
melted
tubes
as
hard
as
I
could
.
"
Well
,
what
’
s
this
?
A
soljer
?
"
I
spun
around
.
It
had
been
a
while
since
I
’
d
heard
anyone
speak
Japanese
.
I
’
d
been
so
lost
in
my
thoughts
,
I
didn
’
t
realize
anyone
had
come
up
behind
me
.
Two
figures
,
an
elderly
man
and
a
little
girl
,
stood
atop
the
embankment
.
The
old
man
’
s
skin
would
have
made
fine
pickle
brine
if
you
set
it
out
in
a
jar
on
a
bright
day
like
today
.
In
his
left
hand
he
clutched
a
three
-
pronged
metal
spear
right
out
of
a
fairy
tale
.
What
’
s
he
doing
with
a
trident
?
The
girl
-
she
looked
about
the
right
age
to
be
in
elementary
school
-
squeezed
his
right
hand
tightly
.
Half
hidden
behind
the
man
’
s
leg
,
the
girl
looked
up
at
me
unabashedly
from
under
her
straw
hat
.
The
face
beneath
the
hat
was
too
white
to
have
spent
much
time
cooking
under
the
sun
.
"
Yourn
an
unf
’
milyar
face
.
"
"
I
’
m
from
the
Flower
Line
base
.
"
Dammit
!
I
’
d
run
my
mouth
before
my
brain
.
