"Tanaka Tsubasa."

"Yes ma'am!" Tsubasa stood tall and proud, chest puffed out, at attention, other than the lack of a salute. That was usual for her. Her father, retired military, ran the Tanaka household rather rigidly, to the point Yumiko rarely felt comfortable visiting their home. Both of Tsubasa’s older brothers were serving in the Army somewhere in China, drafted over two years ago, though further details remained perpetually out of date.

"You are also assigned to the aircraft factory on Harbor."

Snatching her bag up off the floor, Tsubasa marched to the front of the classroom and bowed sharply. As she straightened she flipped her short-cropped hair back with a jerk of her head. "Well, this is NOT goodbye,” she toned firmly, her eyes sweeping back and forth. Because we're going to win this war." How could she be so strong and brave? "Don't cry about this. Instead, think, now we finally are allowed to help win this thing!"

"So, everyone, when I walk out-" she indicated room's exit with her left hand, index finger fully extended, "-that door, I'm not walking out thinking about how bad of a situation this is. No! I'm walking out thinking, this our chance for us to accomplish something great, together!" Tsubasa pumped her left hand into a fist. "I'm going out that door . . . to build the best airplanes I can! I'm going out that door . . . to win! We can't cry! If you cry, you’ve given up already. Don’t do that! Rather, you need to think positive, give everything one hundred percent, and I know . . . I know, we will win!"

No one spoke. How could Tsubasa know that they would win, with such certainty?

Smiling she turned to Miss Sato and bowed. "Miss Sato, we shall meet again." A grin of youthful certainty held her lips up as she nodded to the class and exited, leaving silence in her wake, save for one muffled sob.

Finally, a voice. "Ahem." Miss Sato coughed gently as she composed herself. "Let us all strive to have such passion. Stay strong, for your parents, for your brothers. We must not lose hope, not show doubt, or those who fight for us will lose heart." Her eyes returned to the paper. The names and their assignments resumed.

One by one the class exited. Yumiko stood at her desk, watching as the class dwindled down, fewer and fewer, then to none. She was the last. Someone had to be.

"Kajika Yumiko."

"Yes ma'am?" she answered in a whisper.

"You are assigned to the aircraft factory on Harbor."

"Thank you." Thank you? Well, that was all she could think of. Stooping to take her bag, Yumiko approached Miss Sato and bowed.

"Shouldn't you address the class?"

"W-why ma'am?" Yumiko turned around halfway, eyeing the empty room. "Everyone is gone."

"This is your chance to say goodbye."

Yumiko stood in silence, considering her teacher's words. It seemed silly . . . but she was right. Yumiko turned to face her class. She tried to smile and bowed, closing her eyes as tears welled up anew. As she straightened, her eyes opened. Every desk suddenly sat occupied, her entire class present. Each imaginary face, male and female, her entire class whole again, for the moment.

"I-I’m afraid I don't have anything memorable to say. Not like Tanaka." She nodded to her best friend at the back of the class. "B-but I-I'll try my best to help us win. I-I don't know if it will be good enough, but I won't stop fighting for you, for your parents and your friends, for the Emperor, for Japan. I will do everything I can within my ability to help push us towards victory. I will not disgrace you, and I h-hope I can make you all proud. Thank you and . . . goodbye."

Yumiko wiped the onslaught of tears away with the back of her right hand before turning in place to face her teacher. "Was that good enough Miss Sato?"

The young teacher smiled gently.