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Her father lifted his bowl. “All I want to say is that it was strange to find out my parents were Korean. I’ve been Japanese for forty-one years—my own parents’ colonizer.”
“You make it sound like nothing has changed. As though identity is a choice. It’s not a choice.”
Some days, watching all those boys huffing away over me, I couldn’t help but wonder if Seiji could have, would have…And then I’d wonder what he would’ve done if he ever found out his own mother…And every time, I was grateful he never got that chance. Awful, isn’t it? To be grateful for such a thing.
Like I said, the kid’s whole. His mind doesn’t float like oil on top of his watery heart. He lives for one thing: love.
Indeed, dawn has broken over our ruined country, but far from illuminating a new society repentant of modernity’s excesses, it has revealed the modern brutality of our civilization, consumed as ever by how to profit off another human’s back.
