Hotaka can feel the tension in Sakura as they cross to the harbourfront.

‘You’re right I’m on a crusade. And you should be too. We all should be – me, you, Osamu, Tarou, everyone young and old in the Tōhoku region, but especially us – our generation.’

‘Why?’

‘Because!’ Sakura shouts, as if that word alone is enough. Her eyes dart about – along the marina, out into the bay, to the town, the hills, the sky. ‘Oh my god, there are so many becauses. Tarou and the many thousands suffering like him are part of it. But the problem is much bigger and deeper, Hotaka, particularly because it’s not even seen as a problem by those in power.’

‘Sorry, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

‘Let me spell it out, then. If we’re not careful the whole Tōhoku area will be the centre of a man-made disaster that will make the 3/11 tsunami look like a picnic. And it’s all happening under the guise of reconstruction. Our so-called big recovery is in fact a big con trick.’

‘Oh, come on.’ Hotaka points to the scene of reconstruction ahead. ‘It looks ugly now, but it’s rebuilding what was destroyed. Isn’t that what recovery is about?’

‘Of course we need the roads, the bridges, the streets, and all that stuff. But so much of it is happening in the wrong places. Down here is the past.’ Sakura points to the slopes rising from the coastal flats. ‘Up there is where we should be rebuilding. Down here should be for agriculture, for storage and warehouses, maybe even industry. Not somewhere for people to live, not in large numbers anyway.’

‘But this is where the town has always been, for centuries.’

‘Exactly. And how many times has it been washed away? Three that I can think of in the last one hundred and fifty years. We’ve got recorded tsunamis in this area going right back to 869! They’re part of our history. You’d think we’d have learned our lesson by now.’

‘That’s why we’re building the seawall.’

‘Aahhh!’ Sakura glares across to where construction of the wall has begun. ‘That is the worst bit of all. Those three concrete panels might look harmless now, but that wall will stretch right across the bay, cutting off any view of the sea. What’s the point of living by the ocean if you build a wall that stops you seeing it? And this is happening all along the Tōhoku coast. Hundreds of kilometres of ugly concrete walls costing billions of yen. For what?’

‘To stop the next tsunami, of course.’

‘Hello! We wouldn’t need any walls if towns were built higher up. But in any case the seawalls are crap. Most of them were useless against the 3/11 tsunami. Even the biggest walls failed, and some made the effects of the tsunami worse. I’m talking facts here. Only one of all those walls actually saved the community behind it. The wave just went over the top of the others, or smashed through them. And one of the reasons so many people died is that they thought the walls were fail-proof. They weren’t.’

‘Yeah, well that’s why they’re building the walls bigger this time, and stronger and higher.’

‘It will never be enough, Hotaka. Never! Nature will always make fools of us if we try to beat her that way. We have to be smarter, not bigger and tougher. We have to learn from our mistakes, not repeat them. What we’re doing here is plain stupid.’

‘But the experts and the government all say—’

‘Experts? Government? You don’t honestly believe them, do you? They’re liars. Look at what’s happening around Fukushima – endless lies as poisonous as the radiation leaks. And it’s no different here. The crazy part is that we keep believing them, we the ordinary people of this country.’

‘Hey, Sakura! It’s not that bad.’

‘It is! In fact it’s worse. The Tōhoku region is living a huge lie. The seawalls aren’t for the people. They’re for big business, and for all the politicians in league with big business.’

Hotaka has never seen Sakura so fired up. She’s been angry plenty of times before, but this is different. Her voice is pitched with urgency, the words pouring out, her finger jabbing the air. He stares at her in amazement. People in the street stop and stare too. When Hotaka sees this he can’t help smiling.

She’s just like a politician herself, he decides, the very sort of person she’s ranting and raving about. He holds back a chuckle, but it’s no good; the picture has lodged itself in his brain and won’t go away. He can just see her in the national parliament, the Diet, shouting her views, shaking her fist and laying down the law. And before he can stop himself, he’s laughing.

Sakura glares. ‘What’s so funny?’

‘You.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Sorry,’ Hotaka splutters. ‘I can’t help it, honest. You see, I’ve got this mental picture of you, and, and…’ He doubles up with mirth.

‘Stop,’ Sakura shouts, her face bright red. ‘Stop it!’

Hotaka manages to keep a straight face for a few seconds. But one glance at Sakura sets him off again, gripped by fits of laughter.

Sakura’s face drops, the colour draining from it, and Hotaka knows he’s gone too far.

‘How dare you,’ she whispers, her lips quivering, eyes glistening.

‘I didn’t mean—’

‘How dare you treat me like a fool, a child throwing a tantrum.’

‘It’s not like that. I wasn’t—’

‘I expected more of you. I’m pointing out a terrible crime here that’s being committed against our generation – all these old politicians spending mountains of money that we will have to work like slaves to pay back. I thought you would at least listen, maybe even try to understand. Isn’t that what friends do for each other?’

‘I am your friend, and I—’

‘No.’ Sakura fights back tears, her voice faint and distant. ‘You’re so blind you can’t even see what’s in front of you. These people are stealing our future – yours, mine, Tarou’s, Osamu’s – and all you can do is laugh. That’s terribly sad.’

She turns and walks away.

‘Sakura! Wait!’ Hotaka calls, but there’s no point. All he can do is watch her go.