I was just a guy trying to survive in this world. Living was hard, but I had managed until now by doing some labor-intensive jobs. In my 23 years of life, I felt like I had lived for a million years. I got kicked out of my house by my shitty parents right after I turned 18. I thought that maybe, now that I was away from them, I would be able to live a good life.
That was not the case. The life of independence that I dreamt of never came. What came were cold nights on the streets and hunger, but I did not give up. I tried to survive because I had ambitions and dreams; there were things I wanted to do. I wanted to prove to my shitty parents that I could survive in this world, that I could live without them.
That's exactly what I did. I continued fighting for my survival by begging on the streets and even stealing some things, but eventually, in 2-3 months, I managed to land myself a part-time job. The pay was not much, but it at least gave me enough to eat. Eventually, I landed another part-time job that finally helped me rent a small room for myself.
I couldn't even fathom the happiness I felt at the time when I finally had a roof over my head. Still, it took me another few months to get some basic things like better clothes, a mattress, and other stuff, but I was content with my life. It was around that time that I discovered another world: the world of anime and fiction.
In that lonely room and with all those part-time jobs, this fictional world became my source of enjoyment. After every shift, I would run back home, watching something new on my tiny phone screen until I eventually got myself a television. Watching those animations on TV became even more enjoyable.
Life was better now. After some years, I managed to get out of that small room and into a nice rented apartment. I now had a job at a cold storage warehouse; the work was hard, but the pay was good. I had quit all other part-time jobs and focused on this one.
My hobby of watching anime had not changed at all; in fact, it became even more prominent. I started reading manga, manhwa, manhua, light novels—everything you could think of. I was enjoying my life by myself.
So there I was, a single 23-year-old male with a cheap second-hand car. It wasn't the best out there, but it was good enough for me; it was enough to commute to work and back home. As I drove into the workplace parking lot, I saw people entering through the front door as usual; they were talking among themselves, and there was Mike, my friend at work. After parking my car, I got out and called him.
"Yo, Mike, how are you doing, man?" I said as I extended my hand for a handshake.
He turned towards me and stretched his hand. "Hey, dude, I'm doing alright, but what are you doing here today? Isn't it your day off today?"
We shook hands, and I spoke up, "Yeah, but Rob asked me to come, and you know, I need some money."
"Yeah, that's true. Anyway, do you know there are going to be some health and safety inspections today? So be careful," he said, walking beside me.
"Oh, really? But what does that have to do with us? The sanitation department should be the one worrying," I replied.
"You're right," he said, nodding his head as we went to change into our work gear. Then we clocked in and got to work.
Everything was going smoothly so far. Then I saw Homer, one of the staff responsible for sanitation, hurrying towards the Zamboni floor cleaning machine. Seeing him in a hurry, I yelled out, "Hey, Homer! What happened? Why are you in such a hurry?"
Hearing my voice, he turned toward me midway and replied, "Your friend Mike spilled an entire aisle of milk. Now I need to clean it up."
Before I could reply to him, he hurried ahead. But hearing his words, I went to check on Mike. He was right there on the forklift, holding up a milk pallet that was broken on one side, with a few gallons on the ground. I went near him.
"Damn, dude, why are you spilling your milk here?" I joked with him.
"Yeah, yeah, very funny, man. I am here thinking about what I'm gonna tell Steve, and you are here joking with me," he replied, clearly flustered.
"Calm down, at least bring the pallet down; it's gonna fall otherwise," I said to him.
"Alright," he replied as he started to slowly move the broken pallet of milk down, while I tried to move out of his way.
But that was the moment that everything changed for me. I moved back, but I slipped on the dropped milk. Hearing the noise of me falling, Mike lost focus. As he turned to me, he accidentally lost control of the forklift. And then the entire pallet of milk came crashing down as it landed on top of me.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!" I yelled as I felt that massive force slam into me, and before I could realize anything, everything went black, and the voices of Mike and others faded in the background.
---
I didn't know what happened after that incident. I couldn't feel anything; there was nothingness everywhere. It was as if I existed and didn't exist at the same time. I had no idea or awareness of what or where I was. Then, suddenly, my sense of self returned. I could feel myself again, as if I were coming back into existence. It was like something missing was returning to me, something lost was finally found.
A sudden feeling surged in my heart, making me both happy and sad. At first, it was the joy of being alive, followed by a grief whose source I couldn't pinpoint.
This feeling lingered for a while, but then something else emerged—a familiar yet unfamiliar sensation. It was the feeling of having a physical body, both known and alien to me. The senses of a living body returned one by one: first, smell, hearing, and touch.
Then, other sensations came back, ones I had forgotten even existed, like hunger. Where was this feeling coming from? Why was I hungry? Finally, my sight returned, though I wasn't seeing anything yet because my eyes were closed. For some reason, I lacked the courage to open them. It felt as if opening them would take me somewhere from which I couldn't return.
I assumed I was likely in a hospital after the incident, perhaps having been in a coma for a long time. But my intuition told me that might not be the case. I didn't know why, but I had a strong feeling that my life had changed.
So, I gathered a lot of courage and opened my eyes. What greeted me was not what I expected: there was no hospital or anything like it. Instead, it looked like I was in some kind of cave. Groggily, I sat up and looked around. I was indeed in a cave-like structure, but it seemed inhabited. I was lying on some floor bedding, surrounded by a few scattered items, and enclosed within a mosquito net.
Thoughts raced through my mind: *Had someone kidnapped me? Was this hell?* To understand my situation better, I stood up, and that's when I noticed a young child, no older than five, sleeping nearby.
*Who was that?* I wondered. *Who could this child be? Was she kidnapped with me?* I glanced around to see if anyone else was present, but it seemed we were alone. Carefully, so as not to wake her, I slipped out of the bedding and stepped outside the cave. It was nighttime, and we appeared to be on the bank of a lake.
A stove lay there with some utensils and other items. I didn't realize why, but everything felt strangely familiar, as if I'd seen it all before.
That thought triggered something in me: a memory. It wasn't mine, but that of a boy who lived in 1940s Japan during World War II. Memories of him living happily with his parents and little sister warmed my heart, but the warmth didn't last. Images of war flooded my mind—losing his mother and home to the conflict.
He had lived with his aunt, enduring daily humiliation. There were feelings of hunger, his little sister's sadness, and the fading hope of his father's return. These emotions swirled in my mind, as if I were living every moment of those memories.
This lasted for what felt like a long time. When it settled, I was crying, overwhelmed by grief and sorrow. I now knew where I was and what life awaited me. I was in the world of a Studio Ghibli movie I'd seen before, *Grave of the Fireflies*. My tears wouldn't stop—not as my past self, but as Seita, a child who had endured unimaginable hardships.
The part of me that was Seita felt unbearable pain at the thought of his sister and himself dying, compounded by the crushed hope of his father's return. I sat there crying for who knows how long, wondering what I would do in this new life. Would I die like the original Seita, or could I survive this world?
Dark thoughts echoed in my mind, even ones that disgusted me, like abandoning Setsuko. But they vanished as quickly as they came. Neither my past self nor my new self could bear such an idea.
I realized I had to survive this world and ensure my new little sister survived too—not just to live, but to give her a childhood she could enjoy, one that could bring her happiness despite losing everything. My mind was made up; there was no turning back. I would survive, even if it meant stealing or working. I would get through this, no matter what.
With my resolve firm, I returned to the shelter and lay down beside the sleeping Setsuko. As I tried to sleep, I thought about my next steps. Based on the movie's timeline, we were somewhere in the middle; we'd only moved into this shelter a few days ago.
Lost in these thoughts, I soon drifted to sleep.
---
### Next Morning
"Wake up, Seita, I'm hungry," a voice roused me in the morning. I recognized it as Setsuko's.
I opened my eyes, turned to her, and said, "Good morning, Setsuko. Did you sleep well?"
"Yes, I slept well," she replied in her innocent tone.
"Are you hungry now?" I asked.
"Yes, Seita, I'm hungry. Can you make breakfast?" she asked, rubbing her stomach.
"Of course, Setsuko. Just give me a moment; I'll get everything ready, okay?" I said cheerfully. She nodded happily and ran outside the shelter.
The sun was already up, and thankfully, the sky was clear. Looking around the shelter, I knew there were many things to fix, starting with drinking water. From my memories, I recalled that the siblings had been drinking rainwater or lake water directly. That could be full of germs, so my first task was to boil some water for us to drink later.
I did that first, then prepared breakfast: rice porridge, since we didn't have much to work with. I finished cooking while Setsuko played nearby.
When the food was ready, I called out, "Setsuko, food is ready. Come eat."
Hearing me, she jumped down from her swing and ran over. "Wow, what are we eating today?" she asked excitedly.
"We're eating rice porridge," I replied, knowing she didn't like it much.
"I don't like rice porridge. We've been eating it for so many days now," she said, pouting, which melted my heart.
"I know, Setsuko, but don't worry. Very soon, I'll get you a big dinner, okay? Please eat this until then," I said.
"Okay," she replied sadly, but she still ate everything.
After breakfast, I cleaned the dishes and set the boiled water aside for later.
I knew I had to act, or we'd soon run out of rations. Two options came to mind: stealing or withdrawing my mother's savings. I had about 5,000 yen left in her account, which I needed to manage carefully.
For now, stealing was my only immediate choice. I remembered that the original Seita had done the same, though his childlike morals kept him from going too far.
With this in mind, I told Setsuko, "I'll be back soon. Behave and wait for me here, okay?" She agreed, and I headed into town.
It wasn't time to steal yet; I was scouting. I looked for wealthier houses, noting how to enter them. After a round of the town, I picked my targets, planning to act during the next air raid. I wouldn't repeat Seita's mistakes from the movie—stealing worthless items. I'd take enough food to sustain us.
After scouting, I returned to the shelter and played with Setsuko. She was so cute and lively, and it pained me to see her suffering. I wanted to give her the world, but I couldn't even offer a decent meal yet.
We spent the afternoon playing, and soon she napped, perhaps tired. With no lunch to spare, we drank water to ease our hunger. All I could hope for now was an air raid.
I sat there while Setsuko slept, waiting.
Around evening, my prayers were answered as alarms blared. I stood up as Setsuko stirred from her nap. "Setsuko, stay inside the shelter, alright? I'll get us some tasty food for tonight," I told her.
"But, Seita, the bombs are coming," she said, nervous.
"Don't worry, Setsuko. Your big brother is very strong, okay?" I reassured her.
"Come back safe, Seita," she said. I nodded and sprinted toward town.
People were rushing to the bomb shelter on the outskirts, and I weaved through them unnoticed, heading for the houses I'd scouted.
Soon, I stood before a large house. It seemed everyone had evacuated. I slipped through the front gate, checking for occupants. It was empty.
I dashed to the kitchen—an old Japanese-style one—and found utensils with food. I grabbed containers of rice and set them aside. Then I found meat, likely meant for cooking, and added it to a container, along with some spices in my haste. I laid everything on a cloth, tied it into a backpack, and slung it over my shoulders.
At another house, I hit a jackpot: eggs—a rare find in these times—and fruits like apples and pears. Setsuko would love them. Though tempted, I took only enough for a few days.
With my haul, I raced back to the shelter, bombs threatening every corner. Thankfully, this part of town was still safe, and I made it out unharmed.
I ran to our place, a huge smile breaking across my face, as if I'd achieved some grand feat. Others might call it cowardly, but for me, it was the best way to keep us alive.
Excitement fueled me as I ran with the heavy load. I had real food for Setsuko—something to make her smile after a proper meal.
Near our shelter, I saw villagers fleeing to safety, their eyes reflecting the same desperation for survival that had driven me. It hit me again how cruel this world was to the weak. While we starved, others had meat and fruit. Once naive, I now felt only resolve—to live.
With these thoughts, I reached our cave. "Setsuko, I'm here!" I called, setting my haul down.
"Seita!" she cried, running out.
"Look, Setsuko, see what I got for you," I said, showing her the apples.
"Wow! Apples! Setsuko loves apples!" She snatched one and bit into it.
"It's so sweet and good," she said, her smile melting my heart.
I watched her eat, and halfway through, she offered, "You can have the rest, Seita."
My heart ached. At her age, a starved child shouldn't know sharing, yet here she was, giving me her food. I hugged her. "It's okay, Setsuko. Finish it. I brought plenty."
"Really?!" she exclaimed, devouring the apple.
I handed her a pear. "Have this too, Setsuko," I said, taking one for myself.
We sat in our little home, eating fruit, while the world outside burned with war's anguish—horrors I swore would never touch her as long as I lived.
Exhausted, we fell asleep there after eating. For a moment, the war paused for us, leaving just the two of us in peace.
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A/N: Hello there, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Anyway I just rewatched this movie and had the sudden thought of writing this fictional, so show some support. Also this will be a more slice of life story.
Enjoy.