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Brrrrrrm.
Brrrrrrrrrrm.
BRRRRRRRRRRRRM.
The sea breeze and the rumbling of engines filled the island as construction vehicles roared everywhere.
And at the center of the island she sat, her eyes gently closed.
She was quite young—still only in elementary school, from her looks.
With her arms wrapped around her knees and her face looking up, she slept.
As though the rumbling that shook the island was nothing more than a soothing lullaby.
Perhaps the term ‘island’ did not fit the place where she slept.
A dull grey mass expanded inorganically outward. Construction machinery was everywhere on the flat, measured land, and materials were stacked in endless piles.
Though the materials were to be turned into the buildings on the island, the countless steel beams almost looked like piles of rubble.
Because only the construction vehicles brought in by ship were on the island, the street that passed through the center of the island had neither traffic lights nor guardrails. But once the island was completed, it would be the best road on the entire facility.
“From here, it looks just like the reclaimed land in Odaiba.” A man in work wear standing in the middle of the crossroad muttered to himself, looking down the street.
The tire-marked street seemed to run forever, but the blue seas unfolded just as the road reached the horizon.
The man, who was almost middle-aged, turned slightly.
“But that’ll change once the island is finished. With the Etsusa Bridge as the turning point, Niigata, Sado, and even Japan’s economy will improve instantly.”
“Hah hah. That’s a very bold claim.” Replied a suit-clad man standing next to him. “Mr. Sahara, you’re almost sounding like an Ishin-shishi(1) patriot.”
“Heh. So I’m being conceited, now?” The man in work wear replied with a chuckle, sounding like an ordinary salaryman. “Then again, I suppose it’s not something a construction manager is really qualified to say. That’s for higher-ups like you, Mr. Kirino.”
“Please, I’m only an architect. This bridge and the island carry the hopes of everyoneinvolved—equally.” Kirino replied. Sahara gave a toothy grin, embarrassed.
“I suppose that’s true. Once they’re finished, I’ll have more than enough to brag about to my daughter.”
He slowly turned to a pile of materials nearby.
Kirino followed his gaze and saw a small truck parked there.
The engine was on, and in it the girl sat hugging her knees. In the din of noise, she alone seemed to be cocooned in silence.
Her face was pointed upwards, but she seemed to be asleep. Kirino watched her curiously, then turned to the construction manager.
“That would be your daughter, then?”
“That’s right. She begged me to take her along so she could see, but she fell asleep. Damn. People always say she acts like a borrowed cat(2), but now she’s really curled up like a kitten wrapped up in blankets.”
Sahara’s tone was a little rough, but he wore a loving look.
He then changed the subject, turning to Kirino.
“Come to think of it, didn’t you say you had a daughter, too? Why not bring her over so she can watch her father in action?”
“Ah, my daughter’s still a bit young for that. It’s too dangerous to bring her on site, but my wife is taking good care of her, and they’re watching from the mainland.” Kirino said, also laughing proudly, and looked in the same direction as Sahara.
On the southern side of the island, they could see the mountains of the mainland and the sea between, and the cityscape on the shore.
The foundations of the massive bridge dotted the gap between the mainland and the artificial island.
“I see… so they’re watching from there.” Sahara said, fixing his helmet awkwardly.
“Then we’ll just have to make sure they get to visit the place someday. Put our backs into it and finish up this island.”
The architect nodded silently. Sahara began to walk toward the work site.
“I can’t wait. Until the day children our daughters’ age chuckle together on this island we built.”
“I’m not so sure about ‘chuckle’, but I feel the same.” Kirino said with a wry grin, looking over the island once more.
The world’s largest, longest bridge, was to stretch between Niigata and Sado.
And at the center of the bridge would be the artificial island. On that as-of-yet unnamed structure, the men dreamed of a brighter future.
Like fathers watching their children grow.
At the center of the island, the construction manager’s daughter remained cut off from the world around her.
Even in the din of noise, she was as docile as a borrowed cat.
So long as the engines continued to rumble, the girl’s state of peace remained unbroken.
Until the moment the commotion spread, cutting short the sound of construction on the island, she continued to entrust herself to the rumbling air.
Even to the moment of her father’s death.
Even when her father was pulled into the massive engine that formed the core of the island.
And time passed—
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Note:
(1) Japanese political activists from the late Edo period.
(2) An idiom referring to someone who remains alone and reserved even in the midst of a lively crowd.
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