This is a little boy's world. The so-called good and evil, right or wrong is only the conjecture of adults. For him, the war brought a life of displacement, and he stayed true to his roots while adapting and changing.
He loves flying, loves the blue sky, and loves everyone in his life. However, no one loves him who has left his parents, and he wants to prove his worth knowing that he is being used. And everything is wrong with him, he is the victim, who is not? The boy who had the same dream of flying as him, the "friend" who used him, they all used their own ways to survive in the smoke of gunpowder.
Is it the Japanese fault? When they ran over the streets with tanks in the attitude of conquerors, the scattered refugees were like insects. They look down on all living beings and move refugees to repair the runway. This is their imperial dream.
And the way to end their tracks is the same as when they came. The artillery fire continued until the sun went down, as mothers and children screamed.
They are evil, wage wars, and deny human rights. Yet they are innocent, and they, like you, have people who love him and are loved. They, like you, went to battle with the justice they all believed. You also hold your own justice at gunpoint.
Kill with justice!
And that little boy, even in the sky of bombing, only had his plane in his eyes, not the intrigue that was written into the annals of history. If he could dream, it would be sharing mangoes in the blue sky with that friend who doesn't speak the same language.
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