Goto Dengo, for some reason, watches the bomb instead of the airplane. It does not tumble from the plane’s belly but traces a smooth flat parabola above the waves, like an aerial torpedo. He catches his breath for a moment, afraid that it will never drop into the ocean, that it will skim across the water until it hits the destroyer that stands directly across its path. But once again the fortunes of war smile upon the emperor’s forces; the bomb loses its struggle with gravity and splashes into the water. Goto Dengo looks away.